A/N: Apologies for not updating for so long, but I'm back from the hiatus I took to revise my original novel. That's done, and my literary agent has started pitching the story to publishers, so right now I'll have more time to spend on Queen of Air and Darkness. As it's been more than two years since this fic started, and you might not remember everything that has happened so far, do consider re-reading from the start – it'll be worth your time!
-(=RWBY=)-
Chapter 22
-(=RWBY=)-
When the sun set, and night fell, Vale remained bright, lit as it was by streetlamps and starlight – but in the tunnels beneath the city, things were a different story, for in the depths of the earth there was only darkness, and a dead air that portended something worse.
The enormous terminal they were in had once been used to load goods for transport to Mountain Glenn, but since the outpost's fall, the train tunnels had been sealed by concrete and shuttered by law – leaving behind only unwanted cargo like giant blocks of steel, sacks of gravel, and more.
Taking a deep breath, Jaune cleared his mind of distractions, reaching instead for the fire in his soul that was his semblance.
Professor Cinder Fall, standing to the side with her arms crossed, had been watching silently thus far, but now she spoke – one single word, icy cold.
"Begin."
And Jaune moved.
From his ready, standing position, he blurred into motion, his body twisting, and his right leg extending with his right knee leading – so that he slid into a forward lunge, even as his right arm came out to punch –
Fire exploded from his fist, white hot and searing as the sun, a powerful blast of flame lancing out to strike the giant steel block that was his target.
!
The immolating flames lasted but a second, and as the heat faded and light died, Jaune saw the effects of his semblance.
A circular hole, a meter in diameter and fathomless in depth, stretched through the giant block, whole swaths of steel vaporized in an instant. Said vapour billowed out to the sides, a huge glowing cloud of gas that Jaune knew was utterly toxic.
Before either of them could breathe that poison in, Professor Fall acted. With an almost negligent wave of her hand, she called upon her magic as a Maiden, and seized control of the billowing gas.
The gas stopped moving, held in place as it was by a Maiden's aerokinesis – and then, the billowing reversed, as Cinder forced the gas to flow back into the gaping hole within the remnant block of steel. Once back in place, the gas began transforming into a liquid, and thereafter back into a solid, as Cinder used the Maiden's pyrokinesis to drain the steel of its heat.
By the end, the block of steel was restored to its original state, immaculate and unblemished.
Seeing this, Jaune couldn't help but feel some awe – here was what was possible, when the power of a Maiden was wielded by one of the most skilled dust sorceress on Remnant.
The woman in question had not even been remotely winded by the casual exertion of such power. Coolly, Cinder Fall only ordered –
"Again."
Jaune hastened to obey, and got back into his starting position.
Twice. Thrice. Four times. Five. Jaune repeated the initial exercise, blasting out fire at the block of steel. Each use of his semblance drained him, costing him one-tenth of his full reserves every time, and by the time that Cinder Fall called a pause, he had only half of his aura left, and was panting heavily besides.
Under Ozpin's orders, Professor Fall was training Jaune in the use of his pyrokinesis semblance. There was no one better to do so, given the Professor's rather similar semblance of Scorching Caress – and given that the Maiden power allowed her to reverse any damage and prevent any harm arising from these practice sessions.
Right now, they were looking to develop his basic attack – a lancing blast of fire – that would burn through any defence to eliminate the enemy; and his basic defence – a spinning shield of flames – that would immolate any incoming attack and protect him. Naturally, all this required generating sufficiently hot flames, but Jaune had gotten that part down. All that practice, down in the basement of Junior's pub, was paying off – and for that he was thankful, since Cinder Fall had no patience for incompetence.
The Professor was giving him some time to recover his breath; meanwhile, she prepared for the next set of exercises. Striding up to the block of steel, she engaged Scorching Caress – heating and carefully reshaping the metal to form a huge blade in the shape of Glynda Goodwitch's own double-bladed Judgement.
Levitating it, much as Goodwitch would have done, Cinder Fall pointed the blade towards Jaune – and that signalled the end of his break. The Professor directed him to get into position, and then she warned –
"Ready? Three, two, one –"
The blade shot at him, and Jaune reacted.
His left arm darted out, his fingers splaying as if warding off something.
Fire shimmered into existence, an alabaster mirror of the sun's own scorching heat, a whirling shield of flames three meters in diameter, to intercept the steel blade coming for his head.
!
The blade vaporized upon contact, but Jaune held the shield for as long as he could – about ten seconds, no more – before letting it fade. It was good practice, if nothing else; in real combat, he would likely need to absorb an extended barrage of attacks.
As the shield dissipated, the steel vapour from the immolated blade began condensing, and then solidifying. Professor Fall, not missing a beat, used her powers to summon the now-misshapen steel back towards her. It didn't take long for her to utilize her semblance to reform the blade, and to command –
"Again. Three, two, one –"
Four more times, they did this, each attempt draining another tenth of his full reserves, and by the time practice was over, Jaune's aura was all but exhausted.
Letting his final shield fade, Jaune fought to not collapse to his knees. Such weakness, openly displayed, made Cinder Fall frown, and say,
"You need more practice. New semblance users like yourself are unaccustomed to the significant aura drain."
That much was obvious, and Jaune nodded, too exhausted and out of breath for words.
Unfortunately, there was no rest for the wicked. Shooting him a frown, Cinder Fall lectured –
"It is not enough to be able to perform a particular attack or defence with your semblance. You must also know what is can achieve. For example – "
The Professor checked one of the scientific instruments she had set up earlier, for the purpose of observing Jaune's semblance in action. Jaune wasn't sure where she had gotten the instruments from – borrowed from the University of Vale, possibly, using her authority as a Champion – but there was something reassuring about how seriously the Professor was taking his training.
And though Jaune had long stopped attending Beacon, Cinder Fall had never stopped being his teacher. Once more, she tested him –
"If your blast of fire has the temperature of one point five seven kelvins to the power of seven, while the amount of fire was generated from five two three point six cubic meters of air, how much steel is each of your fire blasts capable of vaporizing?"
Jaune grimaced upon hearing the question posed. He considered himself fairly clever, all things considered, but such a mind-bogglingly technical problem was beyond him. He opened his mouth to protest –
– but then shut it, when he saw the glare Professor Fall was levelling at him. And as if anticipating his objection, she snapped,
"Before complaining, try using your brain to answer the question, Arc. And as for why I'm asking you to think about this – you'll see, once you get the answer."
The Professor, it seemed, was not in the best of moods, and so Jaune chose to comply, over antagonizing her even further. Suppressing a sigh, he pulled out his scroll – which thankfully still had reception, deep underground – and began searching the internet.
He looked up the scientific equations and parameters he would need to use, and then began punching some numbers into his scroll's calculator app. The whole process made him feel like he was back in civilian high school, doing some dry-as-bone physics assignment.
If I multiply the density of air with the volume the Professor mentioned, I get the mass of air my semblance affects. Then, taking the specific heat capacity of air, and multiplying it with that mass and with the temperature, I get the amount of energy in joules each fire blast contains. Then...
Jaune's head was hurting, but he powered through.
... then I take that energy in joules and divide it by the following – the specific heat capacity of steel multiplied by the minimum temperature of steel vapour, plus the latent heat of fusion, plus the latent heat of vaporization – and I get the mass of steel I vaporize. Taking that, and dividing through with the density of steel, I get...
"A hundred and fifty cubic meters of steel..."
Jaune spoke aloud, and for all that he was now nursing a headache from the complicated maths, that was nothing compared to his mounting horror.
Looking at the Professor, who stared grimly back, Jaune was at loss for words. Professor Fall, however, spelled out the implications of the result.
"Your semblance is powerful, and you are lucky to have it. You could potentially blast through any defence to kill an opponent – even they manage to rip an entire mountain of steel out of the ground to use a shield. And you can keep yourself safe from virtually any attack – no matter what elemental barrage your enemy hurls at you; earth or water, air or fire, it doesn't matter. But –"
And there was a "but".
"– use your semblance carelessly, and you will kill thousands, easily. Imagine that blast of fire going off in the city centre, and travelling in a straight line – killing everyone it touches, and vaporizing walls and pillars so that whole buildings collapse. The same concern applies to that shield of yours – use it indoors, and you may evaporate some important load-bearing structural element, and cause the building to come down."
It was utterly sobering. And driving the point home, Professor Fall asked,
"Why do you think I brought you down here? The roof and walls here are aura-absorbent, yes, so no one else can detect our training. But the priority was using these blocks of steel as a backstop, so that practising your semblance won't inadvertently get someone killed."
And for that, Jaune was eternally grateful. How horrifying it would have been, to accidentally burn a dozen bystanders to death when pushing the limits of his semblance.
On that note...
A thought occurred to Jaune, and he asked, uneasily,
"Actually, won't the radiant heat from the flames alone kill anyone nearby? I mean, we're fine, because we both have heat-based semblances that automatically protect us from the side-effects, but anyone else..."
He trailed off, at which point the Professor stepped in to answer,
"A good question. No – your semblance limits the amount of light produced. The pyrometer –"
She tapped one of the nearby instruments
"– confirmed this, and besides, nothing here has yet caught on fire."
She was right, Jaune realized – it wasn't as if any of the wooden crates nearby had spontaneously combusted.
With a ragged sigh, Jaune sat down on a nearby sack of gravel which had fallen over. At the same time – with their training session was essentially over – Professor Fall began powering down the instruments and returning them to a pair of briefcases.
Left along with his thoughts, Jaune reflected on how lucky he had gotten, with his semblance.
His ability was far more powerful than he had ever dared hope for; certainly, it was far stronger than the other Beacon students's, and was even comparable to what Jeanne d'Arc had – that legendary pyrokinesis, which his namesake had used to annihilate the First King's enemies, and restore Vale to peace and tranquillity.
It was immense power, the sort of which meant that, save for fights against the very best, he would never again have to truly risk his life in combat – never have the chance to show self-sacrificial courage, as Blake had.
His jaws clenched –
– and it took real, conscious effort for him to push aside his emotions before they could overwhelm him; and to banish that original corrosive thought, dwelling upon which was futile and for naught.
"Is something the matter, Arc?"
Cinder Fall's voice made Jaune look up. She had finished packing up the instruments, and from the appraising look in her eyes, it was clear that she had noticed his brief agitation, even if she seemed less concerned and more curious about it.
Not in the mood to discuss so personal a matter, Jaune opted to say, non-committally,
"I was just thinking about my semblance."
Professor Fall arched one perfect eyebrow.
"And yet you seem strangely upset, for someone who has just discovered the immense power of their semblance."
Jaune frowned – the Professor was clearly probing him, for some reason or another; and wanting to terminate this line of conversation, Jaune came back with –
"Didn't you tell us, Professor, in your very first lesson with us, that power has its limits, and that there are some evils which strength alone cannot vanquish?"
Hearing this, the Professor's lips quirked up in a shadow of a smile, and there was amused edge to her voice when she replied,
"I am glad that my lessons did not fall on deaf ears. And yes, it remains true – power alone cannot guarantee victory, whether against Salem or in life more generally. But even if power is insufficient, it is still necessary."
Her amusement had faded, and now she evinced only seriousness. Without a trace of levity, she said,
"You Beacon students... whether the idealistic sorts like Miss Rose, or the world-weary ones like Miss Belladonna, you all fundamentally want the same thing – to be heroes. And that's well and good – except that idealism isn't enough; you need strength, too. Power is the difference, between a hero and a victim; without power, you can't save anyone, and anything."
Professor Fall spoke, with a quiet intensity – and Jaune could only listen, silently. There was, he had to admit, a weight to her words; but more than that, he could tell that they were coming from her heart. Cinder Fall didn't just believe in the importance of strength – she lived it, and knew it, the way the sighted knew light and the blind knew the night. The truth of the matter was burned into her soul, and for that to be the case...
"You speak like someone who knows what it's like to be utterly powerless."
That comment slipped out of Jaune's mouth, before he could stop himself.
He immediately regretted it – but far from rebuking him for the inappropriate remark, the Professor only gave a thin smile.
"Yes, Mr. Arc. I do indeed know what it's like to be helpless."
She perched herself on a nearby crate, and crossed both her arms and legs, before continuing.
"I was born an orphan of Mistral. There are plenty of us – just ask your friends Mr Ren and Miss Valkyrie. Our country has always been a lawless place, where men and women die without warning, leaving children behind to struggle for a future not worth having. My own parents died in some bandit raid, or so I am told. From birth, I lived in an orphanage, and life there was vile. The violent bullying, the oppressive and arbitrary rules, the perennial lack of food – our life was hell, and hopeless to boot."
Cinder Fall gave the slightest of shrugs.
"So it felt like a fairytale, when a wealthy Atlesian hotel owner appeared at our orphanage, and picked me out from the crowd – chose me, for adoption. She regaled me with stories, of the wonderful palace-like hotel she lived in; and she promised me, that my life would be safe and carefree and happy once I was her daughter. Hearing all this, I was so elated... and so deluded. For it was a fairytale –"
Here, she gave an ironic smile bordering on the bitter.
"– just not the sort where the princess is swept off her feet by the prince, so much as the one where the little matchstick girl freezes to death in winter. My new stepmother saw me as little more than a slave, useful only for cleaning the floors and waiting upon the guests. And as if an endless parade of brutal chores weren't enough, there was all the bullying from my step-sisters to deal with. But even worse awaited – unsatisfied with just me doing chores, my step-mother wanted more."
Fall's eyes narrowed, and her golden irises seemed almost to glow, as cold rage writ itself across her face.
"She wanted me to service her male guests. Her hotel, the Glass Unicorn, was that sort of establishment – that kind of place, where the powerful and wealthy could purchase their wildest perversions. I refused, of course... but she had the hotel security guards beat me bloody. Then, she gave me a choice – death, or defilement. I chose... defilement."
Jaune closed his eyes.
He could feel the choking horror welling up in his chest, so strong it left him speechless.
But the dark fairytale was not, as it were, over. Cinder Fall continued, saying,
"One of the hotel's frequent guests was a huntsman, Rhodes. I remember begging him to save me, but he was too afraid to help. My step-mother had connections to the Atlesian security establishment – they turned a blind eye to her crimes, and in return she abetted their spying on those foreign diplomats who stayed at the hotel. All said, Rhodes would only consent to train me – to give me the power to defend myself, he claimed, even as he failed to lift a single finger to actually protect me. A real hero, that man."
She snorted, her contempt clear.
"But I am grateful to him... for teaching me this one lesson – that power is at the heart of everything. Why was I a slave? Because my step-mother was powerful, and I was weak. Why was Rhodes too afraid to help me? Because Atlas is mighty, while any one huntsman is puny. Power – with it, you are something; without it, you are nothing. Power – it is your sword, and your shield; the only way to protect yourself, or anyone else. And so I sought it. I trained, each day, every day, until my hands bled and my fingers burned. Until I judged myself strong enough to do what I needed to do. As for what I did –"
Cinder Fall smiled. It was a full blown thing, all dark glee and delectation, all sin and schadenfreude.
"– I killed them – all of them, every last one. I slaughtered my step-sisters first, and made my step-mother watch – before burning that witch herself to death, as slowly as I could. After that, I hunted down the men who had used and abused me, and proceeded to cut off their manhoods, before watching as they bled out in exquisite agony."
Jaune had seen a lot of horrible things, and done his fair share of them as well – but in sheer viciousness, what Cinder Fall was describing outstripped them all.
And even so, all he felt was savage satisfaction – for justice done, and the wicked receiving their punishment.
His approval must have shown on his face, for Cinder Fall rewarded him with a pleased look.
"I am glad that we are of one mind here. Others, more naive, might see things differently, might think peaceful resolution possible – think that going to the authorities and trusting to the law would have worked. Please. As if the Kingdoms would ever sacrifice their national interest for the sake of a few people, let alone one little girl."
On that much, they were agreed. Quietly, Jaune asked,
"And what happened afterwards? You killed so many people, including some rich and powerful men. Didn't Atlas hunt you down?"
Cinder uncrossed her arms, and started pacing about. As she paced, she said,
"They did. I ran, the huntsmen chased; I killed them, but always, more came. I never regretted what I did, even for a moment, but I knew that sooner or later Atlas would succeeding in kill me. It was then I met Hazel Rainart – and, through him, her."
Salem. And Jaune could guess easily enough why Cinder Fall had joined up with the Queen of the Grimm. Levelly, he commented –
"Salem offered you power if you would serve her, and you accepted."
Cinder Fall had stopped pacing, and was now looking at him. Without either hesitation or remorse, she responded,
"Of course. I wanted power, power enough that no one could ever hurt me again – and who better to get it from than the immortal Queen who could subjugate even the Grimm?"
And that was at this point that Jaune had to part ways with Cinder Fall. Letting the judgement seep into his voice, he expressed his disapproval.
"You agreed, even though helping her would mean destroying the world?"
His words elicited nothing but a roll of the eyes from his former Professor.
"Don't be foolish, Arc. I didn't know she was out to destroy Remnant. I told you before, didn't I? Salem promised me, as she promised everyone she sought to recruit, that she wanted to conquer the world so as to make it right – to put an end to war and oppression and inequality, and to create a paradise. I recall she whispered you the same sweet lies."
Jaune turned his mind back to that brief and terrifying encounter with the immortal Queen of the Grimm, when the seer had attacked him at Rothenburg.
Almost as if she were reading his mind, Salem smiled, kindly and without deceit,
"I am not a monster, child, no matter how I might look. For all intents and purposes, I am human, same as you.
"And I want the same things you do.
"A world at peace, Jaune Arc; a world without suffering; a world without orphans, where every child has their parents, and parents, their children. Such a world is within reach, if you will but help me. Take my hand; and be the hero you were always meant to be."
Nodding slowly, Jaune said to Professor Fall,
"I can see how someone might be taken in by such promises. But you saw through the lies in the end, didn't you? Wasn't that why you ultimately defected?"
The Professor gave a short, sharp nod.
"Correct. In truth, I never trusted Salem even from the start. She reminded me too much of my step-mother – in the way she made such vast and unrealistic promises, and in the way she sought to use me. Even as I trained under Salem, and even as I carried out her missions, I kept a close watch on her. Eventually, I discovered the truth, of how she was seeking to destroy the world."
Jaune was curious.
"How did you discover that?"
Professor Fall waved him off.
"That's a story for another time. Suffice to say, as soon as I discovered the truth, I abandoned Salem. After all, why would I aid a woman in her quest to kill me and everyone else? Of course, betraying her was a death sentence, so I went over to Ozpin, offering my services in return for his protection. He accepted, and here we are today."
Despite the Professor brushing off his previous question, Jaune could not help but interject again – for there was yet another issue he couldn't quite understand. A slight frown creasing his brow, Jaune asked,
"Why did the headmaster believe that you were a sincere defector, rather than an agent of Salem trying to infiltrate his ranks to steal the Relics?"
His question made Cinder Fall train those golden eyes of hers on him; they appeared thoughtful, as she said,
"I cannot speak for the headmaster, but this what he probably thought. If Salem was truly intending to send a spy into his cabal, she would have sent an unknown agent – not me or any of the other known inner circle members. Moreover, if an inner circle member had to be sent, she would have sent Rainart or Watts – certainly not me, since my death would risk the loss of the Fall Maiden's powers. And finally, if I really had to be sent, Salem would not permit me to divulge critical information like the fact that she seems on the verge of acquiring the Relics – since this would only lead Ozpin to engage countermeasures, of which your own spy mission is but one. Overall, therefore, it probably didn't seem likely to Ozpin that I was an infiltrator.
"And on balance, the headmaster probably judged that the benefits of taking me in outweighed the costs. Not only was I likely loyal, but keeping the Maiden powers out of Salem's hands was all-important; had he just killed me, it risked me transferring the power to the Queen out of spite. Meanwhile, the risks were minimal – not simply because I was unlikely to be a spy, but because I could be closely monitored and watched for potential disloyalty regardless.
That makes sense.
Jaune nodded in understanding – he had a better grasp of the situation now, where before he had access only a small part of the picture. On the issue of disloyalty, however, Jaune observed –
"The headmaster seems to trust you quite a lot by this point, no? He chose you to help me, while the other members of his cabal have been kept in the dark."
His remark only caused Cinder Fall to tilt her head.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps the risk is necessary, since he cannot trust anyone else."
Ah. Of course. The possible traitor in our ranks.
Jaune grimaced, and asked,
"Has one of the headmasters and Champions really defected to Salem? Why would they possibly betray the world to the forces of Grimm?"
The query prompted Professor Fall to exhale quietly, even as her brows creased ever so slightly.
"Well, that's the billion lien question, Arc. Ozpin thinks there's a traitor, and I'm inclined to trust his judgement.
"As for what possibly motivates them to help Salem... They may not even think it a great danger to the world. It is possible they do not even believe that the Queen wishes to destroy humanity. Or perhaps they think that their own betrayal will not meaningfully undermine Ozpin's war against the Queen.
"Meanwhile, the rewards for turning traitor can be fairly substantial. For example, Salem could help Mistral take back bandit-controlled territory, by using her hordes of Grimm to overwhelm the outlaws; or she could assist Atlas with their White Fang problem, by instructing Tyrian Callows to stop supporting the Fang's more extremist elements. Really, the possibilities are endless, and the other headmasters know that Salem would be more than happy to strike a deal – the Queen has all eternity to find her path to victory, and it makes sense for her to try everything and anything, including bargaining with humanity.
"To put it plainly, someone within Ozpin's cabal might well consider the advantages of a deal with the devil to be well worth the price. More fool them –"
Her lips curled, her words bleeding contempt.
"– as if you could ever come out on top in a faustian pact."
There was certainly no disagreeing with that. However, Jaune was less interested in judging the traitor, and more concerned about who they were. His brows knitting together in unease, he asked,
"So the traitor is probably one of the other headmasters, then? Selling out to Salem to secure the safety of your Kingdom is selfish, but can make sense if you've fooled yourself into thinking that the Queen of the Grimm doesn't want to kill everyone. In contrast, I don't see what Salem has to offer Professor Goodwitch or Mr Branwen that could make them betray our cause."
Professor Fall inclined her head.
"That's my view too, and Professor Ozpin's as well. So watch yourself, if you ever have to interact with James Ironwood and the others."
"I understand."
Jaune shifted uncomfortably, upon the upturned sack of gravel that was makeshift seat.
He had been getting a whole lot answers this evening, to questions he had been long been pondering – and that was making him suspicious. Professor Fall had always been reserved, and distant, and definitely not the sort to hand out personal details about her past – yet that was precisely what she had done. She had also spilled some fairly sensitive information on why Ozpin trusted her and why a headmaster might turn traitor – even though such knowledge would prove dead useful to Salem, and him knowing any of this increased the risk of Salem finding out; he could easily be captured in the course of his mission, after all.
Something just wasn't adding up, and he was moved to ask –
"Professor –"
He began broaching the topic, albeit carefully.
"– it's not that I don't appreciate you trusting me, but is there a reason you're telling me so much, even down to the fairly delicate personal stuff?"
Cinder Fall looked at him – looked at him, and then laughed.
Her amusement was clear, even if there was an edge to it.
"So, you noticed. Perhaps I should have expected it – you were always a clever student, and a pleasure to teach. Well, I'm no longer your professor, and even this training session will likely be our last. I have an extended mission coming up, and won't be around to babysit you. So consider this our last lesson together, and this question your graduation exam. You tell me, Jaune Arc, why I am confiding all this in you."
Jaune's eyes narrowed, as he examined Cinder Fall in new light, and considered the question she had posed him.
In so doing, he asked himself a further question – the critical one, for puzzling out someone's motives.
How does she gain from me knowing all of this?
And once he thought about that, the answer started dawning on him. Slowly, but with increasing certainty, he said,
"You shared your past, because it made you sympathetic and likeable. You explained why Ozpin trusts you, so that I would trust you too. And finally you laid out who amongst the cabal is likely a traitor, so I would be wary of them. Putting this all together –"
Jaune made the final connection.
"– you want me to take your side in the future, if you ever come into conflict with one of the other Champions or headmasters."
"Bravo, Jaune."
Cinder Fall's eyes gleamed in the darkness, as she brought her hands together to give him a light round of applause – even if it was half condescending, and only half genuinely admiring. Her voice like silk, she continued –
"Consider my position. The Queen of the Grimm does not suffer treason lightly – she wants me dead, and has certainly tasked her traitor to kill me. I have Ozpin's protection for now, but his current host body is old, and liable to expire in the decade to follow. In the interregnum between his death and resurrection, Salem will strike – she might attempt an outright titan-class Grimm invasion, or perhaps her agents will step up the terrorism. In the resulting chaos, the traitor will sow dissent and division. They will accuse me of being a double-agent, and of causing the catastrophe – so as to turn Goodwitch and the others on me. None of them trust me as it is, and when push comes to shove, they will be more than happy to kill me – and to take back the powers of the Fall Maiden, which they see me as having stolen.
"When that time comes, Jaune, I hope to have your help. Not just because it is the right thing to do, but also because it is in your self-interest. Remember –"
Her eyes bore into his.
"– it can take years for Ozpin to reincarnate. If and when he dies, then for however long it takes him to return to life, I will be the only one who knows of your undercover mission. If I die as well, then the truth dies with me – and that you do not want. How many people have you hurt, and how many crimes have you committed? Terrorism, incitement to terrorism, arson, and conspiracy to rig an election... if you are ever caught and exposed by the authorities, you will be looking at life imprisonment, if not extrajudicial execution.
"You need me, Jaune – for my protection, and for my testimony about your mission. Fail to support me, and, well..."
She smiled, and it did not reach her eyes.
The threat was hardly even subtle. His loyalty, for his life.
And for the first time ever, Jaune saw – saw, not the professor of Beacon, or the Champion of Vale; but the woman who had chosen to serve Salem, the monster who had killed her predecessor for the powers of a Maiden.
And he knew – that this woman of golden eyes and raven tresses had no ideals save for power, and no loyalty but to the person she saw in the mirror.
Said woman spoke once more. Her smile still insincere, but with genuine mirth now colouring those twin orbs of amber, she said,
"We criminals must hang together, or we will hang apart. Which will it be, Jaune Arc?"
-(=RWBY=)-