Here we are. New year, nearly ended story.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Kegi Springfield
Chapter 98
If someone had asked him a little under a year ago, he'd have said things were going poorly. Atlas was now officially at war with the Grimmlands, the secret of his identity was out, he was a feared figure and the chance of him ever being able to attend Beacon again was slim to none. Then again, times had changed. His ideals had changed.
The war with Atlas was going well, which was to say that Ironwood was pushing out and taking back territory nebulously owned by the Grimm, winning a few early skirmishes as per their agreement. Soon, he'd reach a wall of Grimm he couldn't fight through and at that point would push for peace. The treaty was all but written already, the only thing remaining being to let Atlas think they'd earned it themselves.
The same for Vale.
Ruby and Pyrrha had done well, playing the easily manipulated guests and letting the Council win a peace deal, despite that it was what they'd come for in the first place. Again, the importance, at least on a political scale, seemed to be in making the politicians look and feel like they'd done all the hard work. It was petty and silly, but also undeniably human. He supposed he wasn't much different at the end of the day.
The sheets rustled behind as bare feet padded across the tiled floor. An arm was lazily slung over his shoulder and a face pressed into his neck, the chin leaning atop his shoulder blade. "What'cha looking at?" Yang asked blearily.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Hm." She yawned prettily, which was to say not very much at all, but it was Yang, his girlfriend, and so somehow cute nonetheless. "Was it worth it? Sneaking into Beacon, getting outed, starting a war with Atlas. You wanted to live a normal life, remember? You're not going to be able to do that anymore."
"Neither are you," he pointed out.
"Eh. I always knew I'd live a spectacular life. I mean, have you seen me?"
"As royalty?"
"Hey, when I was a little girl I read stories about princes sweeping young women away. Never thought it'd be literal, but there you go." She yawned again.
"You can go back to bed if you're tired."
"It's cold now you left."
That brought a smile to his face, and a little warmth as he leaned into her. "Last night was amazing."
"You make it sound like we slept with one another."
"We did."
Yang snorted. "I meant a little more than that." She broke away, padding past him. True to her words, she still wore her pyjamas, as he did his own. "When most people talk about sleeping together, they don't literally mean falling asleep next to one another."
"It was still amazing."
"You…" Yang laughed and looked out towards the horizon, smiling brightly. More amused than anything, she leaned on the black-stone balcony, her golden hair wafting in the breeze. "I guess after being stuck in that white cell for days on end, it felt good for me as well. You never answered my question, though. Is this worth it? Is the way the world is worth losing the chance to ever be normal again?"
"Maybe. I'm not sure."
Weiss remained his eyes and ears on the goings-on across Remnant, supported by Ren and, to his surprise, Ilia. They watched the news, the newspapers and any other outlets they could get a hold of, identifying what the Kingdoms' opinions of him were and where he was seen well or poorly. Weiss would then present to him each morning over breakfast. Not an official presentation per se, but rather a lecture he paid attention to because the alternative was her batting him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper. For some reason, his mom seemed to love seeing that. He thought she just liked seeing other people, being around other people.
After so many hundreds of years in forced isolation, suddenly being surrounded by excitable children was good for her. It helped that they were all slowly getting used to her eccentricities. Nowadays, Weiss would only sign when she suggested he might need a concubine, and Ruby would smile and laugh awkwardly instead of spluttering like a tomato when Salem would make a note of how men loved twins, and how while Ruby wasn't a twin per se, it still counted.
They didn't understand her, but they'd become inured to her, and, importantly, there was no fear.
Atlas hated him. They hated him, but were convinced they could fight him, which at least meant that they didn't fear him. In time, they'd lose some of that once peace was achieved. They might be arrogant in thinking they'd won against him, but if that was what it took for peace, so be it.
Vale, Vacuo and Mistral were more reasonable, along with Menagerie. Some of their people were worried about the goings on in Atlas, but he'd had his ambassadors – and the term still felt odd – assure them that the war was contained and would not spread. Being in charge of Atlas' forces, General Ironwood had also made a point of not calling for international aid, citing Atlas' superiority. It prevented any of the Kingdoms being forced to pick sides.
Some people were angry at what they saw as him breaching the democratic process to save Yang. Some were intrigued that he'd go that far for the woman he loved. Some saw it as romantic, others as arrogant or needlessly aggressive. Some even questioned why Atlas had been so defensive and unwilling to give her up.
The important part was that people were thinking. They were using their minds. That meant, as Weiss so easily put it, that people saw him as a force that was within reason. They could understand his motives, his decisions, and that made him predictable. Predictable was boring, but boring was good when the alternative was terror. It meant that they'd pause before classing him as a mindless beast that needed to be put down. The news was already portraying him as a person, something the Grimm had never before been seen as.
But… that wasn't what Yang had asked.
Did he regret it? Not the peace, no, nor the efforts they were making, but perhaps deep inside he regretted that any chance of going back to the life they'd had was lost. He was too important now, too well-known, to ever go back to those heady days sleeping in a cramped room with his team, laughing over homework or chatting in the cafeteria. Those days were over.
"But I don't regret what we've achieved," he said, am honest smile spreading across his face. He moved over to stand next to Yang, his hands on the balcony but his fingers brushing against hers. "I'll miss being just a normal person, but I don't miss the constant fear of being discovered, all those moments when I didn't know what to do and couldn't ask Ruby, Weiss or Pyrrha for advice for fear of them figuring out what I am. I don't miss the lies. And…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "I think what we've done is good for the world."
"Heh. That's undeniable. If someone like you had existed twenty years ago, Mom might not have died. I think there's plenty of people who'll feel better knowing theirs won't. Even if they never realise it."
"I'm sorry about Summer…"
"Don't be. It wasn't you that did it. Mom died doing what she believed in, fighting for me and Ruby."
"If I have my way, no one else will have to."
"It won't be that easy," Yang said. Her voice took on an annoyed quality. "Some people won't change, you know. They'll fight the Grimm even if they become peaceful, and the Grimm will defend themselves. There'll still be deaths. But I think that's not our problem. People die all the time, some hunting wild animals, others climbing trees or driving while drunk. If people want to ignore the warnings, there's not much we can do about it."
Jaune let out a sigh. "Talk about complicated…"
"You think that's bad? Things are about to get worse." Yang grinned and nodded towards the landing pads, where three large Bullheads had come down to rest. Nevermore swooped about but made no motion to attack, while the people who stepped off looking around nervously.
"Please tell me those aren't tourists."
"Okay." Yang said with a wide smile. "They're not tourists."
A moment passed, a moment in which bright flashes of light below heralded the taking of photos. Jaune groaned and brought his hands up to his face.
Yang took pity on him. "To be fair, they're not tourists. We sent Ambassadors to the other Kingdoms and, well, they wanted to send some back. All except Vacuo for some reason. Sun says that's normal. Anyway, it's up to someone to welcome the first visitors to the Grimmlands in its history."
"First visitors apart from all of you, you mean."
"Semantics."
It really wasn't, he felt. Even so, he stepped forward, placing his hands on Yang's hips and feeling a warmth blossom inside of him when she allowed it, shifting her body closer to his. "Or I could stay here with you," he said. "Let someone else handle them."
"You could." Yang smiled. "But that would mean your mother talks to them."
Jaune sighed.
"I'll get dressed…"
/-/
Jaune was in his royal robes – an ensemble of black cloth, silver highlights and a red cloak with a golden broach – and downstairs in less than twenty minutes. Enough time for the visitors to have been shown around, hopefully not by his mother. Not for the first time, he was grateful for Tyrian's absence. The last thing they needed was his uncle giving the guests an enthusiastic tour of the torture chambers. Not that they were used for that much anymore. More like Mom and Dad's sex dungeon.
"There you are," Weiss hissed, trapped as always in a perpetual state of `in a rush`. She strode up to him, looking him up and down once, and then adjusted his cloak like the second mom he neither had nor needed. "You're cutting it close, dolt. Do you have any idea how bad it will look if you're late to greet the ambassadors?"
"Almost as bad as it would for them to see you calling me a dolt?"
She slapped his arm, unimpressed with his witticism. "You'll always be my idiot partner, and no, I do not mean that in a romantic or affectionate manner."
"Mom been on your back?"
"When is she not?" Weiss sighed and rolled her eyes. "Regardless, Ren and Pyrrha are giving the ambassadors a tour and taking them for a late breakfast. They should be eating about now. Time enough for you to get on the throne and look busy."
"Busy doing…?"
"Handling the war for one. Do keep in mind that coup-in-the-making or not, you should at least pretend this war is a real thing."
"Right. The throne, though… Mom's still the Queen."
"That may be, but she's hardly the best person to talk to the ambassadors. She agreed to let you handle that and let you use the throne for the day."
He whistled, impressed. While his mother was hardly married to the concept of being in charge, she did guard her chair with the passion of someone who didn't own a lot of material comforts. It was also impressive because he'd been sure Salem would want to meet the ambassadors, if only to drive home how powerful and impressive she was. "How did you manage to get her to agree to that?"
"I got Ruby to ask her if she had any photos of you when you were younger."
"Ah." Jaune winced. "That'll do it."
"Yes. I wouldn't expect to see either of them again until this evening. Your mother looked happy if nothing else."
"I can imagine." He made his way towards the throne as they entered the main hall, now brightly lit thanks to a little interior decorating from the girls. It was a lot warmer, something he was sure Uncle Tyrian would despair about later.
"The atmosphere. You've killed the moody and evil atmosphere!"
More importantly, someone had snuck a cushion onto the stone seat, saving his ass and earning his unending love and gratitude. "So, these ambassadors. Are they going to be staying here? Permanently?"
"Not permanently, I'm sure, though you never know. In time, a city might even spring up around the tower. For now, I expect they'll stay here for a couple of months and then shift over with new ones. But if you're asking whether ambassadors being here is going to continue, then yes."
"Forever?"
"Unless you kick them out." Weiss paused. "Don't kick them out. I shouldn't have to tell you that is an extreme political move. Not a good one, either."
Jaune slumped in his seat. Near-permeant was close enough, and likely meant he'd never have a moment's peace to just be himself. He'd always need to keep up a mask, a visage, and to let that slip for even a moment would be to weaken the Grimmland's presence on the global scale.
Weiss noticed his expression and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It won't be quite so bad. You can act as you always do around us, and they'll be limited in where they can go. Some degree of acting will be required, but that's part and parcel of growing up. No one can stay a carefree teenager forever."
"I'm eighteen."
"Well, none of us are where we thought we'd be. At least we're doing this together." Weiss froze, face twisting as she realised what she'd just said. "Ugh. That was entirely too sentimental."
"I thought it was nice."
"You would." Weiss snorted and moved away, checking through an itinerary on her scroll. "We'll get this meeting out of the way and let them rest and talk among themselves for the day. You won't have to deal with them for more than two hours."
"Yay," he cheered, weakly.
"You wanted this, Jaune. Remember that."
"I wanted peace."
"Peace requires negotiation, negotiation requires discourse, discourse requires wasting a whole lot of time pretending to like people. Making enemies is easy; making enemies into allies is far more difficult."
That was the story of his life. Jaune sighed and leaned back, taking what time he could to be lazy before he'd need to sit ramrod straight and talk with all the pomp and regality he didn't have.
"I do have one small surprise for you, though," Weiss said.
"Oh?"
"She should be arriving about-"
The door slammed open and Yang stormed through, eyes blazing. "Weiss, I know this is your fault," she hissed. "When I'm done with you no one will find your body!"
It wasn't Yang's temper that made him stare, nor her threats. Rather, it was the long, flowing black dress she wore, hugging her body, accentuating her curves. It reached up towards her shoulders but didn't make it all the way, somehow clinging to her arms, leaving her shoulders and neck bare. Split on one side to show a little leg and with heels beneath, it was something more suited to a formal dance than casual wear, but he had to admit that Yang looked gorgeous.
The anger helped somehow. It was so suitably Yang, even if Weiss was easily able to keep her distance, skipping back before Yang could catch her on her high heels.
"Who stole my clothing?" Yang snapped. "Was it Ruby? No, she wouldn't be that stupid. It was Blake, wasn't it?"
"Nora, actually," Weiss remarked.
"Damn her! What happened to teammates over everything?"
"Necessity. You're as much a public figure as your fiancé at the moment-"
"We're not actually engaged!"
"To the public, you are. I had Nora leave you a tiara. Where is it?"
"Pft. Floating in the Grimm pools at the bottom of the tower. Don't know if you figured this out or not, Weiss, but Yang Xiao-Long does not wear a tiara."
Weiss sighed but didn't appear surprised. She reached into her pocket and brought out a sparkling silver object. "Fortunate I thought to have a spare made."
Yang crossed her arms. "Nuh-uh."
"Yuh-uh," Weiss mocked, "We had to stage a coup to rescue you. The least you can do is wear this."
"Jaune staged a coup. You did nothing."
Weiss' eyes narrowed. "Let me rephrase. Wear the tiara, or I will implant it in your skull."
Yang raised a brow. "You and what army?"
Footsteps sounded outside the main doors, along with voices – chiefly Ren and Pyrrha's, although there were others among them. The ambassadors were approaching. Yang looked to the door, equal parts horrified and in panic.
"That army," Weiss said, holding out the tiara. "Now, you can either support your fiancé – or boyfriend, I really don't care – or you can cause a scene, weaken our cause and potentially ruin any chance of-"
Yang snatched the gaudy object before Weiss finished talking, rammed it onto her head and hoisted her flowing gown up to her knees as she raced up the three steps onto the throne that sat behind his. Tossing herself down, she worked the fabric back down around her legs, scowling the whole time.
"Soon as this is over, Weiss. I swear."
"Yes, yes, I'll fear for my life." Weiss moved over to adjust the tiara so it sat atop a crown of Yang's golden locks. As if to make matters worse, she took out her scroll and snapped a quick picture of the two of them, causing Yang to growl like a wild Beowolf.
"Delete. That."
"Are you kidding? The next time Jaune's mother asks to talk to me I'll throw her this photo and run. She'll be distracted for hours."
"Weiss, I swear I will end you."
He never got the chance to see how that would come about thanks to the doors opening, Yang sitting back prim and proper, one of her hands gripping his so hard he could feel his bones grating together. Weiss was already in position, stood with her hands linked behind her, one step down and to his right, her ceremonial position as his… well, his chief of everything, really. Right-hand woman? General fixer of problems?
Basically, the Grimmlands was going to implode if Weiss ever got tired and left.
"And here, the Crown Prince of the Grimm," Pyrrha orated for the gaggle of well-dressed, but awe-stricken men and women. "And the Crown Princess," she added, as surprised to see Yang as Yang was to be present.
/-/
Somehow, he'd expected the peace process to involve less work. That was the thing about dreams. While they remained dreams, they were nice and easy, conveniently tantalising you with the promise of everything you'd ever wanted without warning you of the effort involved.
"I think that wen well," Pyrrha said as they – that was to say the core groups of Team RYBN and WJRP – sat at a more private dinner table, resting after the hard day's work. Ruby looked particularly spent, having catered to Salem's stories for over six hours straight.
He'd fight a hundred wars with Atlas over that.
"Did it?" he asked. "I feel like nothing was achieved. I sat there, they introduced themselves, they said some random things about how they hope our agreements bear fruit and then everyone chatted awkwardly."
Pyrrha laughed. "That's kind of how these things are. It was the same when I was still on the tournament circuit and talking to fans."
"Really?"
"Hm." Pyrrha bit into some of her salad, crunching it for a moment and swallowing before speaking once more. "Having fans isn't as easy as people think. You have to always be nice, always be smiling, even when things are so out of your control that you don't know what's going on anymore. It's always a mask."
That sounded so close to what he'd been through that he couldn't doubt her. "Does it get easier?"
"Sometimes. At least you won't have to visit young children dying in a hospice and be expected to be cheerful, happy and confident. And then walk away after, knowing they'll die and knowing that your Agent only arranged it because they saw some material gain in the PR." Pyrrha looked disgusted as she said it, shaking her head. "Never mind. It shouldn't be the same for you. And besides, you have everyone to help."
"And I'm grateful for that. I need to start actually paying you guys."
"Yes, you kind of do." Pyrrha flushed a little as she said it, but he didn't mind. He knew they were with him because they believed in him and his cause, but the truth at the end of the day was that Remnant ran on lien. They couldn't hope to retire, raise a family or even visit their own without money to pay for things.
"Once the dust deposits are being sold, I'll be able to."
"We know you will. It's not looking like any of us can go back to being huntresses." Pyrrha thought for a moment and then laughed. "Although, maybe huntsmen and huntresses won't be needed at all."
"Makes you wonder what everyone will do."
"People will find a way. Maybe the schools will train mercenaries or become part of a military academy. Maybe we'll repurpose huntsmen to deal with criminals. It's not like bad guys with aura and Semblances are going to disappear if the Grimm do. They might even become sporting academies. Even if they didn't, no one is going to instantly trust us and drop all weapons. Huntsmen and huntresses will keep being taught for a few more decades at least. Maybe forever, on the off-chance the Grimm ever turn on them again."
That was good. Sort of. The lack of trust not so much, but at least they could rest assured they hadn't tanked an entire industry and even if they had, it was probably one they shouldn't have felt too badly about.
"Things sure have been exciting of late," Pyrrha giggled.
"That's one way to put it."
A commotion outside the room caused a lull to fall over the dinner. Loud, boisterous and full of laughter, Jaune doubted it could be the ambassadors. For one, they'd been confined to their rooms, the floor those were on and a couple of communal rooms to decorate and use as they wished. They couldn't even go outside alone for fear of them getting lost or angering some Grimm. They certainly weren't allowed on the upper levels where they slept and were currently having dinner.
"Pizza?" Ruby asked hopefully.
"To the Grimmlands?"
"It could be…"
"It's not pizza, you idiot."
The door slammed open, a tall, grizzled man with a lightly-dusted golden beard stepping through. He wore a breastplate like Jaune once had, and the face was so similar it would have been impossible to mistake them as not being related. Older, more weathered yet sporting a wide smile, Nicholas Arc looked over the assorted people before him, before his eyes focused on Jaune's.
"Dad!"
"Jaune." Nicholas pulled him in for a one-armed hug. "There's my little conqueror."
"Daaad," Jaune whined piteously. "Not in front of my friends."
"It's a father's job to embarrass his son." Nicholas brought his other hand around, holding a few flat, rectangular boxes. "I brought pizza by the way. Know how much your mom loves it."
"Whoooo!" Ruby cheered, somehow missing the `mom` part of the sentence. She darted past with Semblance-enhanced speed, flickering back to the table to lay the boxes on them.
Sun and Nora quickly appeared at her shoulder. "You realise you're my favourite non-Blake person, right?" Sun asked.
"Same," Nora added.
"You idiots," Weiss huffed. "That came all the way from Vale. It's bound to be cold."
"Cold pizza is still good pizza," Sun mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, tomato and crust. "Hm. This is good pizza. I could get use-eeeee!" Sun's words turned into a high-pitched shriek as a barbed tail stabbed over his shoulder, impaling a single slice and drawing it back up. The prehensile tail wrapped back, past a happily munching Ruby's face, to the eccentric figure behind.
"Hm. Just the right amount of venom," Tyrian said, taking a bite.
"If you poisoned the pizza, I'll poison you," Cinder snarked, appearing behind him. She helped herself to a slice and sat in the seat Jaune had abandoned. Beside her, Pyrrha looked like she wasn't sure quite what to say to the woman who had attacked, beaten and kidnapped her. Weiss was shooting Cinder evil looks as well, but having mastered those long ago, his Big Sis was unaffected.
"Dad, what are you doing here?" Jaune asked, leaving them to it. "Are the girls here? Is it safe?"
"Your sisters are settling back in. They went a little wild with the shopping in Ansel and have a few souvenirs to store. Fair warning, we may have three puppies now."
"Wonderful," Blake groaned, forehead falling to the table.
"Puppies?" Weiss asked, breaking her staring match with Cinder while trying not to look too excited.
"Three?" Jaune asked.
Nicholas shrugged. "They badgered me to get them one, but there was a litter of three remaining and none of them could decide which to adopt. They kept begging until we ended up taking all three."
"Did you try saying no?" Cinder drawled from the table.
"You know I can't do that," Nicholas chided. He leaned in to stage-whisper, "One of them loves Cinder by the way."
"The sentiment is not returned," she growled.
"As for it being safe, well, things were beginning to look a little un-safe in Ansel as well," Nicholas admitted. "What with the whole `Arc` name not exactly being a secret, your sisters being about as subtle as your mother, and an incident where Amber's new friend was being bullied, so she called a flock of Nevermore to scare the bullies away. You know, little things."
"Little things?" Weiss said, eyes flat. She turned to Jaune and sighed, "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but apparently your attempts to act normal in Beacon were not the worst I've ever heard of. Only nearly the worst."
"Aw, thanks Weiss."
"That wasn't a compliment!"
"But escaping the media and panic mobs wasn't the only reason we came back," Nicholas went on. "There was another reason…"
Nicholas made a show of looking behind him and gesturing with one hand. He stepped aside, leaving the doorway empty as a figure far shorter stepped through, their cane tapping on the floor with each step. Coming to a halt, expression blank, Oscar faced them once more.
"Ozpin," Yang growled.
"Miss Xiao-Long," the young boy returned in a voice far too old for him. "Mr Arc. Everyone." He held up a hand to forestall Yang's rise, and the inevitably apocalyptic retribution she had in mind for the ordeal Ozpin had put her through. "I would ask you not to, Miss Xiao-Long, not for my sake but for Oscar's. He does not deserve to suffer the consequences of my mistakes."
The words were flowery and spoke of contrition, but Jaune found himself moving between Ozpin and his friends nonetheless, and not to protect the mind-hopping man. Their parting had not been on the best of terms, and while he'd been willing to let it go, Ozpin's actions after in orchestrating Atlas' attack on the tower had proved him wrong to believe their problems over. He'd made a mistake and Yang had nearly paid for it. They all had.
"What are you doing here, Ozpin? Where have you been?"
"I have spent the last few weeks with your family."
Jaune's hand moved to a sword that wasn't strapped to his side. Even so, Nicholas caught his wrist, moving far faster. "Peace, son," he whispered. "Hear him out."
"But Dad-"
"I would not have brought him here if he was a threat to you or your mother. I would not have allowed him to spend time around your sisters, let alone sleep in the same house."
"In a separate room, of course," Ozpin felt the need to add. It was probably a wise choice. "I'd remind you that while I may currently be in the body of a fifteen-year-old, my preferences remain as they always have." He paused. "The same cannot be said for Oscar, however." Ozpin winced, no doubt getting a telling off for revealing that information.
Reluctantly, Jaune relaxed, taking his hand back when his father released him. He didn't trust – couldn't at the moment – but he would hear the man out.
"Fine. You get one chance, Ozpin. One chance and one only."
"That is all I ask of you." Ozpin's eyes trailed over those at the table, noting an absence. "Might I ask where Qrow is?"
"Being broken in by his girlfriend," Yang drawled.
"Ah, I see." Ozpin looked amused for a moment. "He's done well for himself, I see. You all have. Crown Prince and Princess, Ambassadors, some of the most influential people on Remnant now, and at so young an age. It is an impressive accomplishment from each of you."
"Thank you," Jaune said. The others mumbled something similar.
"Of course, some of your recent actions have been reckless. That is to be expected, I suppose. A lack of experience, the haste of youth or-"
Nicholas coughed meaningfully.
Ozpin paused. "Ahem. Yes. My apologies. What I mean to say is that despite my misgivings, you have not been a force for complete evil upon Remnant."
"Complete evil?" Weiss asked, offended.
"The war in Atlas is not necessarily a good thing."
It was Jaune's turn to cough.
"And I realise I hold some responsibility for that," Ozpin allowed, "Which is why I wasn't going to bring it up. You made the best of a bad situation. Not the direction I would have taken, but one that has, for now, minimised casualties."
"Is this going somewhere, Ozpin?"
The elderly child sighed. "You are not making this easy, Mr Arc."
"Gee. I wonder why."
"Yes, I deserve some ire, I will admit. I may have been hasty myself, although I may add that your mother's history before she met your father warranted such a response. I was doing what I believed to be best for the people of Remnant."
Jaune scowled. "You're not making me like you any more here, Ozpin."
"I can see that, Mr Arc."
In the end, it was Ruby who stepped forward, placing one hand on his shoulder to hold him back. "I think what Ozpin is trying to say is that he was wrong," she said. "Isn't that right?"
"It is," Ozpin agreed.
"Then why doesn't he just say it?"
"When you get as old as me-"
"I don't think you have to explain why," Ruby rebuked, though not without a small smile. "Just a yes or a no. You got Yang arrested and put in danger. Things turned out okay, but they might not have."
Ozpin let out a heavy sigh. "You are correct. And yes, I have made mistakes. I would like to apologise for them, including inciting General Ironwood to attack the tower."
"Why did you do that?" Yang asked.
"It may mean little now, and I don't expect you to understand, but I truly believed you had all been fooled. In my mind, the thought of you all being brought before Salem was something I could not countenance. I believed your lives to be in danger. Or, if not yours, those of other people back in the Kingdoms."
There were mutters of discontent and anger across the table. No one appreciated the reason, even if it was the only one Ozpin had. Even if he knew his mother had been intent on world domination of a sort. Ozpin's mistakes were understandable, but the scale of them still grated.
Sadly, Ruby was giving him that look, the one that was half-smile, half-question, subtly asking whether he was going to do the right thing, convinced he was and ready to cheer when he did. The thought of not fulfilling that expectation and shaking her faith in him was too much. With a sigh, Jaune wondered if this was how his dad felt trying to say no to his sisters.
"I'll accept your apology, Ozpin." He waited for the man to begin to smile, "But, only if you stay out of our way in the future. I don't mind what you do with your life – or what Oscar does; it's his life after all – but all the games, all the schemes, they come to a stop."
"So long as you stick to your goal of peace, they shall," Ozpin promised. "I've no reason to interfere, nor a desire to. And in fact, I have brought a gift that might aid you in your goals."
Curious despite his misgivings, Jaune watched as Ozpin reached behind his back, unhooking something from his hip. It was an odd blue orb or liquid, surrounded by golden filigree in the shape of a cask with two handles. More ornamental than functional, it was a princely gift and Jaune took it carefully.
"Wow," he said, turning it over. "It's a…"
Ozpin waited.
Jaune began to sweat.
"It's a thing."
Ozpin sighed.
"No, it's amazing," Jaune said, trying to rescue the situation. "I've always wanted one. It'll go pride of place on my… uh… coffee table?" Ozpin looked unimpressed. "My desk." Irritated. "My kitchen counter?"
"It is the Relic of Knowledge, Mr Arc."
"Ah," Jaune said with an understanding nod. "On my bookcase, then."
"Jaune was not privy to every little thing we were doing or focused on," Cinder taunted from the table, an oozing slice of pizza dangling from one hand. Her other was held out, summoning a small flame that she was using to heat it up. "He has no idea what the Relics are."
Jaune blinked and looked down at the item again. "This thing is important?"
"Yes, Mr Arc." Ozpin grumbled, "Give a man one of the most important artefacts on the planet and he wants to use it as a paperweight. I really should have seen this coming." He recovered with a cough. "The Relic of Knowledge is an artefact that contains the power of the Gods. It was left behind specifically to help assist humanity in dealing with your mother and has the capacity to answer any question you ask it, so long as the answer relates to something in the present and not the future. With this, you can gain an infallible answer to one question. It is my hope that it will assist you in bringing peace to the Kingdoms."
"Question!" Tyrian called, hand in the air.
"This isn't a classroom, Uncle Tyrian." When the faunus continued to hop on the spot, waving his hand, Jaune sighed. "Tyrian. Yes?"
"Isn't the Relic supposed to have three answers?"
Everyone else looked back to Ozpin, who managed to look embarrassed. He brought his hand up and coughed into it, hiding his eyes. "I may have utilised two of them."
"Typical," Cinder snarked. "Even when he offers a gift, it's two thirds spent."
"I prefer to think of it as one third full. And besides, it refills."
"It does?" Jaune asked, excited. "How often?"
Ozpin coughed.
"Yes, Ozpin," Cinder simpered. "How often?"
"Once every century or so…"
Jaune's expression darkened. He looked to Ruby, who for once had an equally deadpan look on her face. For a moment, he considered slapping his forehead, before he remembered that spent or not, it was still a gift, and one of immeasurable value. More than that, it was a peace offering, and peace was something he was trying to be all about. With Ozpin on board, there would be no one left to work against them.
"Thank you, Ozpin. I appreciate the gesture, and the help this'll bring. Once we figure out what to ask it…"
"I would suggest you think carefully on the question, and how it might be subverted," Ozpin warned. "The being inside is not in herself malicious, but a foolish question begets a foolish answer. You might want to run it past me, if only so I can point out any holes. I will understand if you do not, however. Even then, I'd suggest running the question past Salem."
"We will," he said, looking back to the others at the table. They all looked incredibly interested, many of them staring at the Relic with wide eyes. "Um. Will you be staying the night?" Jaune asked Ozpin. "Do I need to find you a room?"
"Thank you, but no. I wish to meet with Salem one last time."
Jaune winced. "Is that wise?"
"Is it wise? No. Is it a conversation that needs to happen? Yes." Ozpin looked even older than he had before. "We have made many mistakes, she and I. It is about time we addressed some of them. And you are not the only ones I wished to apologise to. I must speak with Qrow as well. He deserves an explanation for my actions."
"I'll be going with him," Nicholas said. "Make sure nothing goes wrong."
Jaune nodded, relieved. "Good idea."
The two of them left, closing the doors behind them and leaving all of them in contemplative silence. Contemplative but for the sound of Sun munching away and Cinder trying not to burn her pizza. With great care and reverence, Jaune carried the Relic to the table and placed it down, careful to keep his hands nearby lest it toppled.
Everyone leaned in to take a closer look, Nora practically clambering on top of Ren, her chin on his hair, to try and see. The turquoise liquid inside the Relic remained still but glowed with an unusual intensity.
Weiss broke the silence, "So, what do we ask it?"
"I'd be open for suggestions," Jaune said.
"Hear me out. How about `How do we efficiently kill everyone in Atlas`?"
"Suggestions from other people," Jaune added, ignoring Uncle Tyrian.
"How to achieve world peace?" Ruby offered.
"Keep doing what you're doing," Cinder answered distractedly, licking some melting cheese from her fingers. She paused and raised an eyebrow when she realised everyone was watching her. "What? It's the obvious answer and likely the one it would give. You have to be more specific."
"How to earn a billion lien!" Nora crowed.
"Kill people and take their money." Cinder replied.
"How to stop all conflict." Blake tried.
"Kill everyone. No people, no conflict."
"How to end discrimination?" Ilia said.
"Genocide on the discriminated race would remove the need for it. Alternatively, kill everyone."
"World hunger?"
"Kill everyone and no one goes hungry."
"Will you stop suggesting `kill everyone` as a solution to the world's problems." Yang demanded, slamming a hand down on the table.
"Hang on," Tyrian said, "I think we should give her opinion some more weight…"
"I'm simply pointing out what answers the Relic might give," Cinder explained. "It must provide an answer, but there is no guarantee on how detailed or flippant it will or won't be. If you want a definite answer, you need to ask it a yes or no question."
"That would be limited," Ren countered.
"Indeed. Which is where the problem lays. Ozpin had access to this thing for centuries and failed to stop Salem. I doubt that was due to a lack of trying on his part. Your question must be worded perfectly."
"Didn't realise we were dealing with the douchebag genie here," Yang grumbled.
"I'm told the Relic also has some limited sentience," Cinder offered, "So good job on potentially offending it. I'm sure that won't have any ramifications. Try to use some brain cells next time, moron."
Yang bristled. "Ahem? You realise I'm technically the Crown Princess of the Grimm now, right? I kind of outrank you."
Cinder's smile fell. She scoffed. "Jaune could do better."
"Screw you," Yang growled.
"No thank you. I can do better as well."
"Yang, Cinder," Jaune laughed nervously as he stepped between them. "We're all friends here, right? All friends. Why don't we put the whole wish-question thing on hold? Sleep on it. Maybe something will come to one of us overnight."
"You could always ask where Hazel is," Cinder suggested. "I've not seen him in months."
Jaune paused, surprised. That… was a surprisingly good point.
"Oh, he's out looking for unicorns to dunk in the Grimm pools," Tyrian said.
Jaune, Cinder and just about everyone else looked at him, confused.
"Why?" he dared to ask.
"Eh. We were having an argument over which Uncle Amber loved best. I said it would be whoever found her a Grimm unicorn. That was… about five months ago, I think."
Cinder groaned.
Jaune sighed. "And he's been out looking for a unicorn ever since?"
"Yep." Tyrian popped the P.
"He's aware unicorns do not exist, correct?" Weiss asked.
Tyrian crossed his arms. "Do you know that?"
"Yes… Yes, I do. They're fantasy."
"Sure, and a few months back you probably thought intelligent Grimm, a Grimm Queen, wizards, mind-parasites and magical artefacts were fantasy as well, right?"
Weiss floundered.
"He has a point," Ruby whispered.
"Ooh, ooh. Blakey. Let's go hunt a unicorn."
"Nora, no…"
"We can put black bows in its mane~"
"No."
"You'd escape the three new dogs in the tower."
"…" Blake's hand came up to her chin.
Jaune groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to handle the smug grin on Tyrian's face. No doubt Uncle Hazel was scouring Remnant, leaving Tyrian behind to win his niece's affections the more traditional way. Traditional for Tyrian Callows, anyway.
"You're some kind of asshole," Cinder said. "You know that, right?"
Tyrian shrugged. "Sure. But the important thing is that you do what you love."
Damn it, Tyrian.
Some things being wrapped up, the final little things taking place. I won't say how many chapters, etc, but we're coming to the end of White Sheep. And yes, Hazel has been absent because he's just been running around doing nothing. I never really had any plans for his character as his motivations are just too vague at the moment. I know why he hates Ozpin, but nothing about anything else re him. Why `my sister was killed by Grimm` leads to `so I joined the Grimm`, etc.
I'm sure there is a believable reason for it, I just haven't seen it yet and didn't feel he was particularly necessary for this story. He appeared right at the start, but that was it. He'd have also gotten in the way of Ozpin's little redemption here, as his reason to hate Ozpin is based on more than a lover's spat.
Next Chapter: 10th January
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur