Coming together is a silent process. The wisps hum through the transfer, nothing from the passenger. Urbosa opens her eyes.
Throws her head back and laughs.
"What are you supposed to be?" she asks, strutting atop the sand. An endless desert, an attempt to force her guard down. Familiar, real, and yet the biggest mirage she's ever seen. Urbosa does not hesitate to snap the item off its pedestal. A lamp, golden, shiny. The part of her that is threaded to Vah Naboris sings of claiming such a treasure.
The once-leader of the Gerudo runs a finger on the precious metal. Flicks it. The thing rocks back and forth, and silent. Being a spirit gave the woman a quirk of knowing what is alive. The ties to the Divine Beast of hers grow fainter, the tugs creating wisps. Urbosa plants her feet for moments more, smirking at the object that grows and shrinks as it is shaken. "I know you're in there."
No one comes out, and Naboris yanks. The threads snap and fall away one by one in the silence. All that is left is Urbosa and the lamp, standing in a forest at the base of a cliff. Howls echo, one after another, of things waking up at the scent of magic in the air.
Urbosa gives a bloodthirsty grin and clicks the stolen object to her hip. There is nothing tying her to the dead, nothing to stop her retribution. Reckoning. Punishment.
Fury.
She may not have a weapon, may be unable to call an area-wide lightening strike, but Urbosa has never been useless. She was the greatest warrior of her people, the greatest leader. These positions do not come without cost and sacrifice. In heels better suited for sand then forest floor, Urbosa struts toward the red-eyed creatures coming between trees. No fear. No mercy. No regret.
It is wonderful to feel again.
;;;
(We Gerudo have no tolerance for unfinished business.)
;;;
The first person to see her alive in over a century, halts. The group with them follows. They see:
A person shaking black dust off their hands.
Red hair like a mane, frizzing in the humidity.
Just enough clothing to be covered.
A woman, tall like only the huntresses with the strongest auras grow to be. Thick, muscled in a way few with strong auras ever show to be. Pointed features – pointed ears – but a deep laugh and easy, warm smile.
Urbosa, of course, had seen them first. Seen how they were dressed much too warmly for this moisture-rich air. Their bright outfits would not hide them, their weapons not subtle. One young man's boomerang does not look all that effective, especially not with two hands clasping out front like it's a bent knife.
"Are these monsters normal for this area?" Urbosa asks, hands on hips as she turns to face them. Her sheath may be empty, but that doesn't stop her reaching for a handle. Brushes against the blue glowing lamp instead. It's too silent for something that felt alive.
"They are," answers the leader. "But normally they stay away from Mistral."
"Mistral?" a lone eyebrow flicks up at the unfamiliar name. "I do not believe I know where that is. How far are we from the Gerudo Highlands?"
The smallest of the flashy group pokes out from behind them, curious, "Gerudo?"
In Hyrule, everyone knows the word. The race of all women, those who were once banished to the desert. The once-thieves, the murders.
The survivors.
Urbosa puts that title to use and survives her first day in Remnant, where everyone knows the words Human, Faunus, and Grimm. Here, there are no Hylians. No Gorons, Rito, or Zora. Most importantly, no Gerudo.
No curse of producing a male once every hundred years. No law that forces their suffering in the desert. In fact, these people seem to enjoy her company. Many children run up to her as they walk through the strange cliff village. They 'ooo' and 'ahh', hanging off or sitting on her arms. It may take longer to reach the destination, but the so-called Hunters and Huntresses appear to enjoy the attention along the way.
Many eye her enviously, and similarly there are those who scatter at her sharp glances. Urbosa is taller than most, thicker than many of the twig-sized people. They remind her a lot of the princess.
Zelda, free and alive thanks to the power of the Triforce. A new queen in a land that will not recognize her monarchy, and maybe it is better that way. Her little bird never wanted that responsibility, never strove for the life of living for her people. So unlike her mother. If only she could have lived a bit longer.
At least she'll have Link with her. He may not be as alive as he used to be, but the young man knows the land by now. They will be fine.
Urbosa needs to focus on herself and this strange new place. She'll need people to guard her back, to help her gain power. The wealth of the truly upper class in this village gets more and more noticeable as they climb for the licensing school. So far, this place does not seem like it can tear her down, but she'd rather not risk a chewing out. She was the Chieftain of her people, the pilot of Vah Naboris, and a Champion of Hyrule.
Being alive makes her no less strong, no less wise or compassionate. The Gerudo do not leave things half done. Urbosa vows to leave this world better than when she came to it, same as the conclusion to the century of fighting for control. In her veins crackles the strength of lightening. On her hip the lamp sways, silent.
While she walks, the 'No Faunus' signs begin to smoke.
;;;
(Do your worst.)
;;;
"And what is this called?" Urbosa cheers as her next order comes in a bottle.
"Gin and tonic," slurs the man next to her.
Honestly, the liquor content is too weak here. The Gerudo can barely taste it, hasn't even gotten lightly buzzed after several of their heaviest drinks. At least she isn't the one to pay, everyone else does that in exchange for stories of her life. The Yiga as neighbors, a race dependant on her decisions, sand everywhere, Urbosa knows she's lived an exciting life compared to most. It will only be more exciting in this new land; there are plenty of challenges ahead that will keep her occupied from missing her world. The Gerudo grow up fast, live slightly longer than the Hylians, and with life threading itself into a body for her, she'll have time to have fun once again.
There is a card – a licence – tucked snuggly in her breastplate. These people not only encourage their children to fight monsters, they idolize those who do. It's tantalizing to think about the power, especially with how pitiful their test for the authorization was. Even the youngest woman in her tribe could have passed. What's especially important is the subclause about criminals they read to her, as Urbosa feigned ignorance to their written language.
With a smile that softens her face, shows a row of disarming teeth, the woman raises the bottle, "For gin and tonic, I'll tell y-"
In a moment, she's on her feet, grabbing a discarded knife from a boozy patron. The world before her is frozen, men and women caught between sentences and expressions. Some drinks are stuck in a beautiful display of splashing out of their tankards and bottles. Her own bottle is frozen in the air, not dropping even as she tries to nudge it down.
The only reason she notices the change, is the gentle tugging at her hip. Urbosa deftly unlatches the lamp, shuffling back and readying on her feet as it suddenly grows in size. In the place where time is slowed, where magic pricks at the once-leader's skin, Urbosa is all warrior again under the blue glow of old other.
"I mean you no harm," says the woman made of the blue magic, who shrinks to appear only slightly shorter than Urbosa. This new person floats, not flinching when the knife lowers back to the table with a loud snap. "I am Jinn, a being created by the God of Light to aid humanity in its pursuit of knowledge." She watches closely as Urbosa returns to her seat, watches the red maned woman pull out the one chair every person in the bar's been too scared to take. "I've been graced with the ability to answer three questions every one hundred years." She takes the offer, hovering just above the seat and counter. Not human, but neither is the woman next to her, "At current, I still have three questions to answer."
"Well," Urbosa reaches over to grab an empty glass. She swipes the gin and tonic bottle from the air, zapping it enough the cork flies a bit before freezing in the air when the magic fades, "I best be careful with what I say. But after I use all three," she pours into the vaguely stunned woman's glass, yellow zapping to keep it spilling, "our talks will be normal. None of that chaining magic holding you back."
"It does not hold me back," Jinn retorts. She raises a hand to grasp the glass, pausing as the chains around her wrist rattle, supporting the wrong argument. She glares at Urbosa's smirk. "It powers me, allows me to complete my duty."
"Duty!" Urbosa snorts. "Take it from someone who's been chained by another," the echoes – the screams – of what powers a Divine Beast, "if it is not your own ability, it is a crutch. Do not ever let someone else's gifts define who you are."
Thickness – tar – can't breathe – wisps – fightfightfight.
"I am Jinn," the woman who's only ever known this life clenches her fists, glaring. Urbosa has seen the defiance, the need to believe a situation is good, before. Too many of her fellow Gerudo have fallen into it, thinking they have to abide by it all because of love. That word – that emotion – is as unpredictable as the desert to them all. "I was made to give knowledge, that is my only purpose."
"First thing we're doing after this is getting you a hobby."
"Ask. Your. Questions."
Urbosa slowly licks the dull taste from her lips. "What are the top ten detailed ways for me to become a successful mercenary in this world?"
It is always the details people forget. Words that connect sentences like 'and' or 'however' can lengthen the talk, make airtight agreements, or bore others in their ramblings. The Gerudo are a blunt race, but also polyglots at their best and bilingual at their worst. They are wordsmiths, had to be to survive all their neighbors. As their leader, it was her job to know how to be the smoothest talker in the room.
Urbosa laughs as list goes on, Jinn unimpressed that this doesn't trigger her can't read the future clause. The Gerudo woman is already forming a plan with the answers, details sewing themselves in her mind with the power of this otherworldly magic. At the same time, she sips the liquor and debates each word of the next question.
When Jinn finishes, the silence is broken quickly, giving the blue being no time to find a loophole. The second question, wordy and demanding, sums up to: what are all the ways to free you, so you can experience life as a person?
Jinn's face sours; hate is in every word as she answers honestly and thoroughly.
Urbosa gives her no time between the answer and her last question.
"It is not possible," Jinn smiles cruelly and fades, job over. The blue of the lamp dies down, dropping into Urbosa's hands. It is clipped on and the woman back in place as the time moves forward again.
"-tell you about the days I lured and fought the Molduking!"
;;;
(Have the two of you been getting along all right?)
;;;
It is not easy finding a place in Mistral if you aren't already set. Urbosa knows she cannot take a hammer to the situation, no matter how wildly she stands out from the locals, and so begins with learning the layout. Where she is, the 'safe' paths, strongest Grimm sightings, who are the bandits and thieves and murderers, the spread of the underbelly of a Kingdom, what her plan is for the future.
Who the Faunus are. Who the Humans are. Why she's sickeningly accepted that it's best none of the other Champions had appeared in this place with her.
It takes one mission clearing out Grimm to get enough currency for a bladed weapon. No one sells her favourites, but a knife and shield are just as effective.
Lightening runs through her veins, saturating the air with it.
Time to move on.
Jinn is silent, glow dulled as Urbosa walks the trails alone. The Gerudo singing tunes in her native language, calling forth the weakest of the dark creatures with her noise. They are defeated easily enough, and she thinks about the creatures with bounties so large no one would touch them alone. Not even the most skill vai and voe would face such creatures head-on. Link, with his sword made to dispel evil, was the only person she knows to face the boss-level monsters and win with minor injuries.
If Urbosa is to go against these harder creatures, she will need the backup. Too bad that most of the Hunters and Huntresses she's met so far are cowards at the face of something greater than them. The bandits she's heard of might listen to bribes, but the ones Jinn had made mention of are on the other sides of this Kingdom. It might have been a loophole, though. She's learned since Jinn's answers that the knowledgeable being left out all mentions of Faunus. It would make sense if one or two Faunus groups wouldn't help a Human-like being, but not a single person?
The Gerudo woman isn't ignorant enough to locate and request an audience with Remnant's possible Yiga Clan variant, even if their new leader is supposed to be a pacifist. From what she's heard, the White Fang has become a terrible mixture of radicals and people trying to do good. There have been a lot of death made in their name the past few decades, setting back any peace talks or legislature work favouring the Faunus because of the actions of their radical members.
Atlas may be more blatant in their abuse of labor rights, but in Mistral the Faunus can barely afford to live. They have it much worse than Urbosa; even the Hunter and Huntress Faunus have access to only the less desirable jobs and are loaded with pay deductions. As sickening as it would be to prey on that vulnerability, Urbosa knows she can keep them safe and spread the money equally. She looks human enough - for once annoyed her ears aren't the shape of her ancestors - and she's spotted the other warriors struggle with monsters she can take down with a punch.
Urbosa isn't quite ready to move past surviving this world into living with it. It isn't the kind of place she enjoys – air too humid and people so two-faced – but it is where she stands now. Better to make the changes than to wander endlessly. Even if she were to live, safe and cozy away from all harm, Urbosa knows she has a maximum of eighty years left in her lifespan.
To die in battle is how nearly all her people go. She, like most Gerudo, never got a chance to hold their grandchildren. Unlike most, she still got to see several of her descendants, and it is a wound that will scar deepest of all.
Urbosa is all hard angles, battle-made and battle-weary, a ruler of her people, and a pilot of a Divine Beast. Even if she is not yet ready to live for herself, she will survive to make the changes for others. Even if Mistral is not the banished plains of the Faunus, she will reform the Kingdom so they are not hated here.
So that if Mipha, Revali, Daruk… or any others arrive…
Electricity shoots from Urbosa's skin, frying the young adults sneaking up on her. She turns, weapon unsheathed and shield at ready, "Now, just who might you cowards be?"
Scuffed up and tattered, hungry by the looks of thin arms and hollow faces, but bared teeth as they tremor to their feet. The Humans look more feral than any Faunus she's seen. How… poetic.
"Are you a part of the bandit tribes I've been hearing so much about?" Urbosa wonders, teeth bared in her smile.
"What if we are?" snaps one of them.
On Urbosa's hip, Jinn continues her silence.
;;;
(I understand their fear)
;;;
It starts out small, as things do in order to survive. Urbosa slips into the Kingdom of Mistral's unlawful society like she was always there around the same time as rumors of her begin to kick up. A new mercenary group, the leader a woman who looks like she'd belong in Vacuo. Hunters and Huntresses who were falling off the radar, popup in the group looking better than they have in ages. A few people from different bandit tribes fill in the last of the fighting roles, and wherever she goes the bandit tribes seem to disappear. Either she leaves the old tribes as a new village, or as corpses.
There is talk about Mistral's rich choosing to move from their defended cities into a village where they would rule. There is a network of informants starting, marked by their spider tattoos. There are less bandit tribes. There is a mercenary group constantly stalked by Grimm. There is less ability for trafficking, all those involved rounded up or slaughtered depending on the merchandise. There are more Faunus getting jobs, and smaller towns are no longer daring to post anti-Faunus propaganda lest their businesses catch on fire or their homes be overrun by Grimm.
One way or another, most of these things are connected to the Gerudo Champion.
Three years in and walking through her group's fair-sized encampment, Urbosa is almost ready to make a base for the families and non-combatants who run the inner workings of the camp. Give it another year or so, and they'll be too large in numbers for the constant travelling. She has experienced nearly half of this kingdom, her changes taking root with the charged airs she leaves behind. She cannot stay too long or risk a storm they are not yet prepared for. She cannot keep going north for risk of meeting the Atlas devoted who watch and stranglehold trade to the kingdom.
South, Urbosa thinks, kicking at the snow on the ground. Her powers keep her warm, years tempered by the desert night keep the Gerudo people from freezing but even they could not wear as little as she does in sub-zero temperatures. After this, we go south. To the farmlands and warmer spaces.
To the places where Faunus discrimination isn't as bad because of the close proximity to Menagerie and lack of Atlas' influence. It also has higher mortality rates, but Urbosa believes they are ready to bring that statistic down.
The snow begins to fall slower, she draws her knife and shield in a flurry. Urbosa stares, unamused, guarded.
For the first time since the questions, Jinn watches from outside her lamp. Hovering and chained, the small looking blue woman hesitantly asks, "Your songs… what do the words mean?"
Urbosa sheathes her weapons, thinking of what she's recently been humming, "The heat will not soften us, in the cold we shall not freeze. The desert welcomes all, fight every day against its embrace."
A flicker of emotions passes across the face of the shackled person, "Did you live in a desert?"
"Yes," Urbosa does not blink as a link crumbles from the immortal person's chains. She holds out a hand, "Would you like to be introduced to the others?"
The snow falls faster, the being made to answer humanity's questions has vanished. Not yet, Urbosa knows the signs of someone not ready to make the jump into the rest of the world. For all they teach the Gerudo how to interact with others, plenty would never leave their town. Right now, they have time to do this dance. It's just too bad the lamp seems to attract Grimm. Jinn could gain some better social interaction if she could be left in the eventual settlement.
A walk through the current village leads to a space of forest littered with tents and camping pits, "Pepper, Cotton, Emerald! Map tent in fifteen!"
"Yes Chief!"
;;;
(The rest is up to them.)
;;;
"You are… Urbosa, correct?"
She glances away from the bounty board, Grimm and criminals alike scrolling down it. Cotton's rabbit ears twitch, but Urbosa waves her off and goes over. The newcomer is tall and built for taking blows rather than attacking, though his hidden clawed fingertips would certainly do some damage. He looks young, but not nearly as young as one of his two shadows. The kid ready to pull a gun can't be more than eighteen.
"I am," Urbosa smiles, more teeth than niceties. "You are Ghira, leader of the White Fang."
"Erm," he looks bashful at being recognized. His guards sneer. "Yes. I heard you were going to travel through the Wood Path. We have a shipment going down through there. If it isn't too much trouble-"
"How much are you willing to pay?" Urbosa interrupts, hands going to her hips, amused.
Gun kid looks ready to take her head off, meanwhile the feline-eared adult looks more peeved at the interruption. Ghira proves to have sense as a leader, giving her a decent sum for their protection.
Urbosa calculates it, the risks and rewards, before humming, "What's your transport look like?"
"A couple vehicles of supplies, all legal," he forces a smile and chuckle.
Urbosa looks over to Cotton, "Wrap up here and go see which Faunus would be willing to provide protection, since I don't think-" she purposefully eyes the guards with disdain, "-everyone would be willing to be guarded by Humans." They bristle but she's listing a price back at him, per person, "I trust my people to deal with anything – person, Grimm, or obstacle – you come across. Moriyama shouldn't give you any trouble, but Silva wasn't very kind to Faunus last time we passed by. How far are you planning on going?"
They work out details until Cotton returns with five of the nearly twenty Faunus that make up their mercenaries. Urbosa knew none of her members truly liked the White Fang, but she expected more support for an escort mission. Pepper, unsurprisingly, leads the group even with her outspoken opinion of the White Fang's decent towards a terrorist organization. The woman with rat facial features toys with her pipe staff the same way the gun teen toys with his handle.
Ghira takes the five bodyguards, the details are hashed out, and Urbosa leaves to plan how to mitigate the impact of her decision when it reaches the spider's ears. She doesn't hear the cruel words sung by the radicals of their human oppressors. She doesn't hear the honey-soaked words trying to draw her five mercenaries into the fold. She doesn't bare witness to the fractures inside the White Fang: Ghira vs. Sienna; the potential loose cannons vs. the minions who only want to be treated equal to humans in the eyes of the law.
A week later, the protection detail and main group meet up. Pepper explains to her Chief and the other seconds about the attack from the people of Silva. They now have two new members who wanted nothing to do with the White Fang after Sienna hailed gun kid a hero for killing someone. Ghira asked for each of the five's opinion on his organization and he got their responses and then some.
"I never thought all those talks we had would pay off," Pepper slurs, resting on the bar's table. "Did you plan this?"
"I can't see the future," Urbosa laughs. "It doesn't hurt to prepare for any scenario. We do travel enough for it to be possible we'll meet anyone."
Emerald huffs behind her glass, the only Human and the youngest at the round table, "Did they say anything about Chief?"
"Not after I corrected them about her race," Pepper giggles. "Gun boy doesn't believe Gerudo exist. He thinks you're trying to get attention or something."
Cotton snorts into her glass, "What'd you do?"
"Told him that when he's cursed to only give birth to females, he can name his own race too."
They laugh and clang glasses, enjoying the last night before a long trek south.
On Urbosa's hip, the lamp hums with wonder.
;;;
(Which means that finally… we can complete what we started years ago.)
;;;
Before them, stretches of untouched land. The extra funds go to supplies as houses are built and plots are farmed. A library, then a schoolhouse. Smithy, tailors, a guild. Every person learns how to shoot an arrow, handle a knife, and use their metaphysical shields. Urbosa returns with her squad in time to witness the first birth in their village.
"People will start investigating this soon," Emerald says, leader of the homestead, a year into their settling for a base of operations, "with the path made and everything. What do you want to name this place?"
Urbosa laughs, sharpening a dagger that's rounded like her preferred weapon, but still not quite what she yearns for, "I thought you had all decided it months ago."
Emerald grins, giving her small, sly look, "We wanted your confirmation, Chief. We couldn't have done this without you, after all."
Urbosa grins a sharp thing in return to hide the roll of emotions in her. Only a few have ever heard the full story. Only her seconds have seen her regret. "Riju sounds wonderful."
While Urbosa keeps her daughter's name and memories tucked close to her heart, they all know of her favourite descendant. The only gift she can give a family member she gave nothing else to. In her mind, the greatest Chieftain the Gerudo would ever have.
Emerald jots a note, unaware of the buzz rippling across the lamp her leader always carries, "We'll put a sign up right away."
It's not much later that one of their scouts runs up to the town's boundaries, looking as though they've aged from horrors. Urbosa hurries over when she's signalled, taking in the sight of one of her best, "Desmond, what is it?"
He gulps for breath, eagle eyes trained on her, "Found. Branwen. Camp."
"Why the hurry?" The order is to watch the most feared bandits in Mistral. See if any could be persuaded to join them before they wipe out the group.
Someone finally gives the young man some water. He takes the reprieve, collecting enough of a voice to explain, "They pit newcomers against others. Each other. Whoever wins joins the camp."
The others die.
"They kill kids, Chief," he spits, desperate. "Have them kill each other. For sport."
Urbosa nods sharply, barks orders over her shoulder as she hurries to her own things. For all the crimes she's seen and heard throughout this Kingdom, the Branwen Tribe has a list of the worst and the leader a bounty and cruelty streak no one would choose to go near. Even the slaughter of children is not the worst on their rap sheet, but it is still a terrible reason as to why there are never any young bodies left in the places they raid.
If they can save one innocent from a death battle, then she'll consider it a success even if they don't get the leader's head.
;;;
(And that… will make this victory all the more satisfying.)
;;;
"Pepper," Urbosa calls, head lifting just as her second in command drops on the branches above, "report."
"Seventeen survivors," Pepper falls into step with her, gazing at the body of the leader with disdain. "Thirteen are below adult threshold, six are child age…"
It is odd for the other woman to hesitate, and it's not the proof of kill that's doing it. Urbosa snaps another picture – the only thing she really knows how to do on her Scroll – before motioning her guards to start looting. "What is it?"
"There are two… well, supposedly they're the leader's kids. I don't see the resemblance; they were probably being groomed to take over though."
Urbosa cusses, a harsh enough Gerudo curse that the others haven't heard it before. She thinks of the Yiga Clan's children, of Zelda, of even her own daughter. She thinks of Link and how he was forced into the role of Legendary Hero. Adapt or doom the ones they care for. Very few heirs choose to be so. "Take me to them."
A boy and a girl. No older than fifteen by the looks of them. They are the only underaged in handcuffs, which Urbosa undoes immediately. The boy tries to fight the moment they're off, and Urbosa picks him up by the scruff with ease. He's the scrawnier of the two, waving thin and boney arms wildly in the air. The girl watches with anger and defiance, black hair with more volume and few signs of being better fed. Not by much, though.
When he's exhausted, Urbosa drops him back on the crate beside his 'sister' – twins if they really are and do not just happen to be the best fighters in the camp – and sits on the crate her people have dragged over. The other survivors – not a single Faunus, which will mean a talk is required if anyone kicks up a fuss – are shooed away to be interrogated further about what they want with their new freedom from the bandit life or recent capture.
The boy is the first to break, head bowed and aura shield flickering as he struggles to pull up any defence, "What now?"
"That depends on the two of you," Urbosa rests her forearms on her legs, leaning enough to be eye level and not that threatening. "We can deliver you to a city. Let you run off alone from here. Or you could come with us."
"Why would we want to go with you?" the girl sneers. "You've all just killed our entire family."
The boy flinches, and somehow Urbosa thinks he doesn't agree with the idea of inheriting a group of nomadic antagonists. She can understand his view, but knows the girl's far more intimately. All Gerudo Chieftains are taught about the Exile. Adapt and survive, "If you have any ideas about revenge, we can fight. If you want to die as well, all you have to do is ask. But I don't think you want to die, and I don't think your hearts are set on revenge. So, what is it you want?"
The girl jerks her head away, angry tears spilling over. Her brother looks at her under his bangs before curling further in himself, "I don't want to die."
"Only the strong survive," the girl snaps.
"And how do they survive?" Urbosa scoffs, startling the two. "If you mean strong as in a fighter, there will always be someone stronger. If you mean knowledge, there will always be more to learn. If a predator does not die struggling alone, they die from a betrayal. Survival is not living. Wanting something is not the same as needing it. I asked what you want," she and the girl stare at each other, "not what you think." Turns to the boy, "We can protect you for as long as you're with us. What else do you want?"
"Food," the girl snaps for him, "water, shelter."
"We can give you that for as long as you're with us. What else? Do you want to go somewhere? See someone? Learn Something?"
"I want to be a Hunter," the boy blurts, and then cowers under the hissing glare his sister shoots.
"Minimum age is seventeen if you want to go to school for it," Urbosa continues on. "I can recommend you to a school, have you trained up for the practical exam if you'd like. Or wait until you're older and take the exam without all the classes. What else?"
"I-" and the girl stops. Glares full of conflicting emotions. "I-"
Taking some pity on her, Urbosa nods and stands. Offers a hand to both of them, "Come to our settlement. Help out with some odd jobs, read a book or whatever, and take some time to decide. I can promise you won't ever have to fight for survival in the village."
The boy hesitates to take her hand when the girl spits, "You can't promise that."
"I can," Urbosa says, so full of convictions and plans, that it's almost as though her words are the law of the world. "I don't tolerate traitors and thieves, and I make sure all my people can defend themselves. If there's no supplies, we buy it. If anyone is in need, we help each other. Stick with us, and I can promise you'll get a chance to figure out how you want to live."
The boy takes her hand.
The girl hesitates but her grip is firm, "I will kill you if you lied to us."
Urbosa laughs, "That's the spirit."
They take her fake last name and the spare rooms in Urbosa's barely lived in house. The three of them turn it from a storage area into a more livable space, the kids only trusting her out of everyone in the village, and only just so. For the first time since its creation, Urbosa spends months in her village, making sure the teens are settled. Thunderstorms roll on and off for weeks, scattering to other villages and towns, drowning the Grimm who have never experienced this kind of weather.
On the break of a staticky and charged day, Urbosa hugs tightly to Qrow and Raven Naboris as she returns to hunting down the worst of Grimm and people across the Kingdom of Mistral.
;;;
(You have my word.)
;;;
It isn't that Urbosa is unaware of politics. On the contrary, she understands the laws and unspoken rules of Mistral better than the average politician or Huntsperson. It just happens to be that this world is big, much bigger than her desert or Hyrule. The Gerudo does not have the time or energy to learn everything about places she'll never see, so the most up-to-date she'll ever be about the other Kingdoms is enough to make sure no one has plans for an invasion or war. Urbosa's CCT presence consists of her name and completed jobs.
She isn't great with technology and doesn't want to talk about it thanks.
Apparently, the idea of the rich building a village for themselves is gaining more traction. She personally thinks it's a terrible idea, but if they can afford constant guards then all the more to them. Urbosa struggles to close out of her 'Messages' while debating on holding off for a year after the rich-village's completion. If it's survived that long, then maybe she'll offer her people's services. If they think they can buy open-ended protection, they'll be in for a rude awakening soon.
A scream passes through the swamp they walk in, faint enough the others don't hear. Urbosa turns a pointed ear to place it better, handing off her Scroll to the second-in-command of their current group, "Keep going and let me know if there are any jobs posted for the next town. There's something I need to check on."
Used to their leader's odd habits, the group continues without a fuss, only taking note as how the air grows heavy and storm clouds appear on the horizon. Urbosa's heels barely make a dent in the marsh lands, a zapping of yellow and orange beneath her feet as she walks. The screaming is more like grunting. There are taunts from another party, and it certainly is not from the Grimm that attack. A woman wearing a skull mask backflips away from a swiping claw, her scythe twirling and steadying the motions. Then there are tentacles shooting at her, the taunter cackling.
The tentacles, horrifying light-eater appendages reminiscent of the Grimm, comes from the taunter's back.
Urbosa bends low with gritted teeth, eyes calculating the moment to strike. Skull Woman is holding her own well, but no person's stamina is forever, and the odd eye-light attack doesn't appear to work while she moves. The woman jumps. The horde of sharp-clawed Grimm push in. The tentacles shoot out-
There.
Urbosa leaps for the opening. Lunges her way through. Muscle memory has her striking out with her shield, pushing the tentacle woman back, and then shooting past to cut away the things made of the Grimm-like substance with her knife.
Only, it isn't a knife in her hands. The Scimitar of the Seven does more, cuts easier, than any measly knife could hope to accomplish. Urbosa spends no time thinking about it, about how empty her hip feels, and jumps at the nearest Grimm, fighting her way to the Skull Woman. The monsters flinch at the overwhelming ozone smell, those not falling to dust are paralysed with the lightening hitting them through the curved blade.
The Skull Woman, who had been poised to run, rushes at Urbosa. Making a face at the betrayal, Urbosa jumps out of reach of the scythe. Only then does the mercenary chief realize she was saved, the larger and more curved blade shredding the new Grimm tentacles.
The human-like enemy screams again, and this time Urbosa can see the Grimm-like appendages growing back. She twirls the way around a claw, heel sparking as it holds against the wetlands, and then lunges forward. The hilt of her scimitar knocks the enemy out in one hit, leaving the tentative allies with only a few Grimm.
When it is all over, the women face each other, weapons drawn and at ready. If she were any less a professional, Urbosa would have rolled her eyes at the gun barrel trained on her.
Skull Woman demands, "Who are you?"
"Urbosa, leader of the mercenary group passing by. And yourself, Ms. Grimm Reaper?" The woman's voice hitches. Urbosa smirks. "My son is a big fan."
"Well," not to be outdone, the woman returns her scythe, flicking her hair back as she turns to the unconscious enemy. Urbosa huffs and lowers hers, smirking. "I've heard of you, of course. Bandit Killer. Mercenary King." The Grimm Reaper does a sweeping glance over her shoulder. "I expected you to be smaller."
"I expected a scarier mask."
"Pah, people in Mistral are terrified of their own shadow. I could have worn a jester's mask and they'd still quake in their shoes."
Urbosa sheaths her scimitar into a gold-plated sheath behind her back, one that wasn't there earlier. She had thought that the sheath had gone missing years ago. Not the time to ruminate, "Do Grimm-people come after you often?"
"More then you'd think."
They stand over the knocked-out woman, feet digging into the reforming tentacles to keep them from moving. "Any idea who's sending them?"
"Unfortunately not," Skull Woman levels her gun at the enemy's face. "I do know they aren't the only ones being sent, just the most recent."
"Are you up for some nice officer, cruel officer?"
Sarcasm drips off the so-called Huntswoman, "Strangely enough, I'm not in the mood to see the people hunting me get off easy."
"Good," Urbosa grins, digs her heel into the writhing mass of light-eater. "I also have no sympathy for those who side with malice."
Sparks dance through the metal-plated soles. Their prisoner awakens screaming, any Grimm nearby answering the call.
;;;
(I accept your proposition without hesitation.)
;;;
"So," Urbosa places the Scimitar of the Seven on her rented bed, "you've finally made your decision."
Jinn hovers above the sheets, manacles gone yet she appears lost at their absence. Small. Gaze firmly on unshackled wrists, "My creator will not be happy once He has realized what I have done."
"When was the last time you saw your creator?"
Jinn knows it's a rhetorical question. Can feel hurt within herself now that she is no longer bound. Urbosa sees it all too clearly.
"It won't be an easy road, but we will all help however we can," Urbosa holds out her hand to the child-like woman. "Let us get you some clothing and introduced to the others."
The blue-skinned, newly fully corporal immortal being takes the offer, magic around her shifting into an outfit like Urbosa's. The Gerudo laughs, a howling sound, and hugs the other as she takes her first steps. Sturdy, solid, supporting.
Jinn gasps against her friend's chest, tears coming for the first time, "I have so much to tell you."
"Later," Urbosa pets her hair, calm and humming a tune she's chased nightmares away with. "Right now is about you."
Jinn is introduced to the party, and the Chief's missing lamp is never correlated with her arrival. While everyone is getting to know each other – because knowing of is much different from knowing a person – Urbosa sits with the snarky Grimm Reaper and shares a round of non-alcoholic drinks, "Are you planning to stay?"
"After what we heard?" the Grimm Reaper scoffs and shakes her head. "I'd best be skipping out of Mistral. Maybe Vacuo next, once all the fuss of the tournament dies down."
"Right. That fighting thing," Urbosa can feel herself make a face.
Her table partner howls at it, "I would never have guessed you'd be against it. What's the problem, too flashy for ya?"
Urbosa hums, scowling, "More so how they pit children against each other."
"They're training to be Huntspeople."
"Then have the adults fight. Instead we're watching the next generation beat each other black and blue for sport…" Urbosa's hands are more like claws around her glass. The young fighting the young in other kingdoms, all in the name of peace… Bets placed on which still-a-child will win in physical combat… Yet all she's seen it do is upsell the academies and draw in more students. The majority of the civilian populace do not even know basic self-defence.
The Grimm Reaper looks at her oddly. Wisely, she doesn't stay on the topic, "You mentioned a son."
Urbosa huffs, but smiles like a proud parent, "He and his sister refuse to go to the academy in Mistral, no matter how much I assure them I'll straighten out anyone who bothers them. They'll be the best of their generation, I'm sure. He wants to build a scythe like yours."
"It's a very dangerous weapon to master."
"Don't I know. We worked together for ages to figure out what to do."
"Oh?" the Grimm Reaper gives a coy smile. "Then maybe we can try together sometime. Scythe users normally cut themselves in half if they start from scratch. It would be fun to compare notes."
Urbosa smiles, softer and toothy, leaning forward with a response.
"Excuse me," comes the soft, hesitant murmur of the young woman who now stands a few feet from their table. "The others said to come talk with you, Chief Urbosa."
The Gerudo woman leans back from her tablemate, smile fading into something amused at how similar the young woman is to her. Volumized, bright red hair, tucked into a ponytail. Green, piercing eyes behind a set of glasses. In contrast to Urbosa's healthy skin and appearance, this new woman could be a ghost. However, there is a strength to her meek demeanor that reminds Urbosa of the few men and woman in her company who have joined in a last stand against the tolls life has taken. "What do you need?"
The woman – except, on closer looker, the ghost-like person is truly young; world weary and likely younger than the twins – draws her shoulders back and softly explains, "I want you to take me on as your apprentice."
The Grimm Reaper chokes while Urbosa leans back. Arms crossed and smile growing, "I'll do you one better. How'd you like to be adopted by me?"
Now the table partner laughs while the teenager looks taken aback, "I- my parents are still alive."
"You can be my apprentice either way," Urbosa says, because the Gerudo can be harsh and cruel but also trustworthy and accepting, no matter what others or history may claim. The person in front of her is asking a lot, but is also the first to do so. It doesn't hurt to see makings of a Gerudo in her, even as Urbosa accepts being the one and only in this strange world. Also, if this person wants to be her apprentice, then Urbosa has a way to avoid this empty nest syndrome people keep warning her about. "I just thought it'd be easier since if I adopt you then I won't have to get permission from your parents-"
"Deal," is the swift reply.
Urbosa grins – there's a story with this one – and taps a lien card on the table for the Huntress she's leaving, "Chat with you later. I'm going to introduce this one to the rest."
"Are things always so crazy with you?" the Grimm Reaper laughs.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Then I think I will visit sometime. Can't let you have all the fun."
Urbosa smirks and stands, throws an arm over the teen's shoulders, careful to notice how they flinch before relaxing, "What's your name, tiny?"
The teen huffs at the jab about her height, taking the woman's hand like a lifeline. "Tophee Nikos… I guess it's Naboris now."
"You can keep the last name if you'd like."
"No, no I want it. I want the new start. And no one can pressure me if they know I'm part of the Riju Chiefdom, right?"
"That's the spirit- wait, what?!"
So, it turns out Urbosa's home base has expanded to include protecting towns in the mostly southern parts of Mistral.
Somehow, probably via Emerald, there are few and far between rumors of the lands in the south are being claimed in the name of the Mercenary King: Urbosa. Which, through a misunderstanding, now means those southern towns believe themselves to be a part of a new up-and-coming Chiefdom, soon to be Kingdom when Urbosa is officially there to take up the mantle and declare their sovereignty from the Kingdom of Mistral.
In hindsight, Urbosa thinks in the early morning, everyone still fast asleep, it would have been better to hear Jinn out before the party.
To add more chaos to an already exciting week, Urbosa begins choking when the opening speech for the Vytal Tournament by the Headmaster of Shade Academy begins playing on the screen in the corner of the inn.
"Mipha," Urbosa gasps and strides over. There she is, the fellow Champion, only… the Zora is older. Taller. Still as kind as ever. The Headmaster's full name crosses the view at the bottom. Urbosa wobbles back and takes her seat, trying to settle the disappointment and excitement. Disappointment, because Urbosa had believed that if anyone else were to come to this world, they would be in Mistral as well. She's kicking herself for that assumption now. Mipha has obviously been here a lot longer if her age is anything to go by, has done well for herself in a place that's said to be mostly desert and cruel to the kind of heart.
Excitement, because Urbosa now knows she isn't alone. Going by the last name, or even just the given name, it shouldn't be hard to find the others. Urbosa's CCT presence doesn't even hold a photo of the Gerudo, but after thirty minutes of struggling she pulls up more than enough to confirm that it really is Mipha. Another fifteen minutes to get information on Revali and, by the time she searches for Daruk, Urbosa believes she's getting a handle on this search engine.
Reading about the formerly only other adult of the Champions really hits home just what she must do next; for all of them and the people who believe her their next ruler. Unfortunately – or fortunately – there is no Link or Zelda who may have come from Hyrule. Instead, Urbosa returns to Daruk's contact information. Some catchup would be nice before enacting her plan, and it seems Mipha and Revali are just barely better than Urbosa with their CCT presence. She knows how to call someone, having called her kids every night whenever she's in a place with good connection. Setting it up takes some fandangling, but she's successful in her application.
Urbosa turns to the coverage of the tournament as her group members finally start to arrive for breakfast. The Scroll rings in her hands for a long time, but she expected that.
Click. "Hello, this is the Headquarters of the Schnee Dust Company. How may we direct your call?"
Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda or RWBY franchises. All rights belong to their respective owners.
A/N: Thank you for reading!
If anyone is interested, this story takes place in the same universe as another one-shot I did: Even Just Once More which follows Mipha's time in Vacuo. If you've already read it, I hope you enjoyed it!
I hope everyone is well and has a fantastic day! Please take care