Valence

by Cowjump

With the end of their first year at Beacon Academy having come to pass, Team RWBY must contend with the next three months of their summer break. Follow this eclectic bunch as they are thrown into a situation that utilizes neither their combined combat prowess nor their acquired knowledge on all things battle-related during their adventures in the city of Vale.

12. Chapter 12: Library of Shadows

Welcome back!

I feel as though these beginning author's notes are decreasing in importance, but this is probably for the best as it decreases the distance between you and the story. However, I should give a warning before this specific chapter begins. As with the disparity between chapters six and seven, this chapter will have a different tone than chapter eleven. The contrast should be expected, but this warning is to set the expectations for those who may believe that the fluff of the last chapter will carry on far into this chapter.

With this said, I hope that you enjoy chapter twelve of Valence.

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Chapter 12: Library of Shadows

"Yang," Blake yawned contentedly, neither fully awake nor truly needing her girlfriend's attention at the moment. The name simply resonated with her and she desired to say it while she pulled herself closer to the form that was decidedly not a pillow. It was only because of a cool morning's breeze that the young Faunus had been roused from her wonderful slumber. Not once had their outside sleeping location factored into any form of discomfort because her of partner's aura that had protected them long into the night. She loved Yang and knew that she was loved back, judging by the strong, warm embrace she was wrapped in. After the events of last night, she couldn't help but grin affectionately into her partner's shoulder, silently thanking and appreciating everything Yang stood for. Yang. How Blake adored the woman who held her tight and accepted her—the former stray—faults and all. She did not want to open her eyes yet as she was too content with her current position, but the sun had begun to rise and had forced them open.

The first sight she was met with was of Yang's shoulder. She could see a few strands of flaxen hair in her vision, but her sight was mostly trained on the thin, gold chain that rose and fell with its new owner's slow breaths. Blake could not be indifferent at that moment nor could she force a frown or neutral expression after Yang had said those three words. It was still strange to her, being in this position, relationship, and state of mind. She was not used to this happiness—perhaps at one point she had, but not since joining the White Fang—but smiled nonetheless. She trusted Yang, enjoyed simply being beside her, and loved her; she loved her jokes, her attitude, her outlook, and her warm, sunny disposition. The White Fang had taught that positivity would be hard to find until the world met their standards, but Blake was happy now—she thought the moment and company to be perfect—and believed that Yang felt similarly, judging by her continued wear of the necklace. Of course, the blonde did not have a moment to herself to remove the jewelry last night, but Blake knew that she would have kept it on regardless. She still could not believe her partner felt the way she did. It was incredible, astonishing, and as though it was Yang's gift back to her. The young Faunus nearly laughed, thinking that it was yet another instance of her girlfriend being selfless at a time that she did not need to be. Blake happily watched Yang's unconscious expression and unwitting smile as she brushed a stray bang away from her partner's face.

Her gaze eventually moved to the sky. The bleak, icy grey of the overcast atmosphere told her that the hour was not as early as she would have liked, but there was still the possibility of sneaking back into the house. Her parents seemed fairly tolerant of their relationship for the most part, but the young Faunus believed that any parent who saw his or her child being held by another as they slept under the stars would likely believe their actions to be less innocent than they actually were. Her mother was certainly the type to overanalyze a situation and her father would spot even the slightest detail that might alter his appraisement for better or worse. Blake understood what their situation looked like and was slightly afraid.

However, one look at the peaceful expression of her usually energetic, upbeat partner made Blake's frown disappear entirely. There was nothing wrong with their situation at all; everything was as right as it could ever be. Unfortunately, she was certain that her parents would think differently, even her father who readily supported their relationship. Blake did not want to extinguish her partner's comfortable demeanor, but she knew that they would have to move into the house before her parents awoke. She was torn between falling asleep again in Yang's arms and waking her, but quickly understood the rationality behind the latter action and made her decision. Before she began, Blake would look at the exuberant youth in this calm state just one more time. All she could think about was how she loved this woman as she put a hand to the blonde's cheek and emulated last night's action of Yang's thumb catching her tears. Yang had said that she never wanted to see Blake in pain again and the Faunus would try her hardest to keep anything from happening to her partner as well. She moved the hand to her arm, lightly shaking it as she whispered, "Yang."

The girl in question surprisingly reacted to this first attempt, shifting and loosening the hold as she mumbled, "Good morning, beautiful." Blake smirked, not once taking offence at the blush that had spread across her cheeks. Even in a mostly unconscious state, Yang still had a way with words. It would take a few moments before the blonde's eyes would flutter open, but once they did, the partners found themselves locked in yet another impromptu staring contest. As amber gazed into lilac, the two seemed to wonder the same things: Did last night actually happen? Did I really say that? Did she say that, too? Yang was obviously happy, but her grin was not as powerful as it could be. Perhaps she had this fear of rejection as well and was wondering whether or not she would be pushed away after what had been said and done the night prior. This is what Blake thought would happen, but she was caught off guard by Yang's hesitant greeting of, "Hey."

"Hey," Blake responded in a manner that was equally as awkward. It felt as though they were children meeting each other for the first time. They were girlfriends, they had kissed, and they had said "I love you." How they had managed to regress to such an unsure point was beyond the young Faunus' present understanding, but she was timid nonetheless. They would not say anything for a while, simply watching one another's expressions for any small, telling changes. Blake was happy to make this eye contact with her partner, but believed that last night had been perhaps too good to be true. Suddenly, she saw something change in Yang's eyes; her expression did not shift, but her gaze somehow turned from curious to inquisitive—she was asking if last night had happened. Blake, being unsure herself, gave a similar look in kind. It took but a moment for the couple to understand that last night truly had occurred, causing Yang to lose any appearance of tiredness for a colossal smile. Blake felt that her own smirk conveyed happiness well enough, but Yang's expression was excited, jubilant, and outright loving. The arms wrapped around the Faunus tightened as she was pulled closer to her partner, causing her small laugh.

Yang's aura flared, ridding the area around them of any pesky breeze and allowing benevolent warmth to fill its place. "For a second there, I thought all of that was a dream. I'm glad you're here, though. Thanks, kitten."

Blake did not know specifically what she was being thanked for, but accepted the sentiments nonetheless, nuzzling closer to show her appreciation. She was aware of the eventuality of convincing the blonde to sneak back into the house, but she just wanted to bask in the reality of the situation for the moment. She felt Yang slowly rub her back while her other hand held her in place. She, herself, absent-mindedly played with the mass of golden hair behind her partner's back. Yang happily sighed—an odd action for her which was normally replaced by a short laugh or a grin. "You know," she began, moving the hand that had been rubbing the Faunus' back into her hair, "you really are the best. I'm not gonna try to say anything poetic or anything 'cause I'm still out of it, but," she was interrupted by a yawn, but powered through it, "but I want you to know that what I said last night still holds true." Blake closed her eyes again, smiling warmly all the while, feeling Yang hold her close to convey the sentiments more than adequately.

She was loved and she loved back in kind. "Thank you," was all the uncharacteristically affectionate Faunus could manage to say. She felt the hand running through her hair scratch the area behind her ears. Normally, she loathed the action, thinking that anyone who did this was purposefully forcing her into an unfortunately submissive state, but at this current juncture with her girlfriend, she was relaxed. Yang wouldn't hurt her and she knew this for a fact. In that moment, Blake lost all sense of purpose and time as she simply melted into the ministrations. They would remain in this state for some time, Blake lying against her warm partner while Yang kept the all of her attention on the Faunus' ears. When the blonde eventually ceased her actions, Blake was slowly able to recall what she had woken her partner up for. It took a fair amount of effort to reset her priorities, placing security over comfort, before she asked, "Yang?"

"Yeah?" the girl whispered, neither completely awake nor alert, but entirely focused on her inquiring girlfriend.

"We need to head inside before my parents wake up. I'd rather them not find us out here like this. Even if we aren't doing anything wrong, I still don't think they will like the idea of us sleeping together." Yang pulled away and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. Initially, Blake thought the expression voiced indifference towards her parents' thoughts, but quickly found that the surprise had come from her unfortunate phrasing. Blake shook her head and corrected, "I don't think they would like the idea of us sleeping with each other." Yang quietly laughed—a relative guffaw for the tired state she was in. This caused the Faunus to send an impatient look her way, halting the noise and bringing the blonde's attention back in full. "Yang, I'm serious. My parents probably believe what you're laughing at as fact—or they will if they see us out here like this."

"So, what are we going to do? Break into your own house?" Blake sighed, questioning the morality of the unavoidable action but understanding its necessity nonetheless. Yang hummed in acceptance. "It's always a party with you, isn't it?" She yawned, "All right, I'm game. How do you want to do it?"

"Quietly," Blake simply said. She hoped her partner would accept and play her part well. She trusted Yang, but far too many times had the blonde proven that silence was not her forte.

Yang unlatched an arm from the Faunus so that she could roll onto her back and stare lazily at the overcast sky. "Well, I never said your parties were always fun. They're more box socials and book club meetings than raves." She laughed at her own joke. "But we'll do it your way. Kicking in your parents' door might not leave the best impression."

Now it was Blake's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Was that supposed to be a pun?" She would not be angry if it was the case—far from it, actually. Blake was simply curious if Yang had realized the joke she had made in her latter statement.

Yang turned to face her girlfriend, a tired look in her eyes. "Blake, I wish I was awake enough to know what you're talking about. But I'm not, so I'm just gonna say 'Yes', take credit for it, and try to grasp how early it is." Her gaze returned to the grey clouds before she sighed. "Sorry, Blake. I'm up for breaking and entering and all that, but don't ask me to think about anything. All I can think about right now is how you are able to wake up this early."

Blake rolled onto her back as well, the arm wrapped around her waist continuing to hold her close. The blanket of clouds above floated gently and gradually—noticeably if one were to pay attention yet invisibly to Blake whose focus rested on her girlfriend. She waited a moment for the unintentional question Yang had asked to diminish in necessity. "If we are going to do this, we need to move soon. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Yang sighed. At this, Blake stood, quickly finding her balance and looking back at her supine partner. "Help me up," the girl asked. Blake rolled her eyes and extended a hand which was immediately accepted. Yang was pulled up with no small effort on either girl's part, but once she was, she smiled. Blake smiled back before she was suddenly wrapped in a hug. "Thanks, Blake. No matter what happens—if they find out that we didn't do anything or not—I'm gonna stick by your side. I like your parents, but if they get in the way of me and my Blakey…well, I might not like them as much after that."

On one hand, the statement was reassuring and sweet, but at the same time, Yang had all but promised that if the situation with her parents went awry then there would be some form of conflict. Blake doubted this conflict would be physical as Yang had a respectful integrity about herself, but if the conflict came in the form of conversation or argument, then the Faunus would have reason to fear for her girlfriend. Yang was smart enough, but not in the same way Lilian and Cole were. The blonde understood diplomacy and how to mollify a situation through conversation alone, but could not contend with the combination of logic, reasoning, pragmatism, and experience that her parents could bring. Blake's fears on this matter could not be said to be unfounded as she had yet to reach a point where her knowledge was able to surpass her parents'. It was this inability to adequately argue against the combined acumen of her mother and father that originally spurred her mistake in joining the White Fang. Individually, she had been able to best them in battles of wit and reason, but only after she had returned from an absence of ten years. She didn't expect to come into conflict with either parent, let alone both of them, but if Yang was to follow through with her claim of protectionism, then said conflict could plausibly occur.

Blake sighed. "Come on," she said, purposefully dismissing the defensive assurance and refocusing her girlfriend on their objective. Yang complied, slinging an arm over the shorter girl's shoulder for apparent assistance. It should be noted that Blake believed that Yang did not need assistance at that time and that the blonde was more than capable of standing on her own, yet neither girl could complain. Together, the partners moved from the lawn to the house's back door. As they went, they each brushed off a few stray blades of grass that had stuck to their persons; Yang had to even pull a few out of her hair, but did not seem discontented in the least. Before they reached the door, Blake disengaged from the tired, if not affectionate hold.

She expected her parents to have locked the house's doors—that is what they did when she was a child and what Yang did at her house every night. As such, Blake prepared herself to pick the door's lock. It was not a skill that she was proud of learning and had only used it twice when she was in the White Fang—once to reach a piece of intelligence in a locked room and once to reenter her own sleeping quarters. However, she still felt confident that she knew how to exploit a lock and moved to begin. It is a popular misconception that the first step in the lock-picking process is to retrieve the necessary tools or to evaluate the lock itself. Instead, Blake began by testing the door's handle and thankfully found that it turned, allowing her to open the door without incident. This was fortunate because she lacked any tool that would have aided her in her efforts and because this spared her the guilt of breaking into her parents' house.

With the door ajar, she looked back to Yang, motioning her to follow. The blonde blinked a few times, took a deep breath, and began to move as silently as she could. The two entered into the kitchen and found the room dark, spare the grey light that spilled in from the windows. From where she stood behind a counter, Blake could see that nobody was in the living room, but could only assume that the kitchen was in the same state. She looked to Yang, silently telling her to stay quiet once more before she nodded towards the doorframe that led into the living room. Yang returned the gesture, expressing agreement with the plan before they both moved forward. Unfortunately, a nonchalant "Good morning" alerted them to another presence in the room.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen's center was Blake's father, staring blankly at the window while occasionally taking a sip of coffee. He was not his regular, cheery self—nor should anyone be at this post-dawn hour—but he seemed alert and attentive, having spotted the two girls without having to turn his head. This validated Blake's fear of her parents seeing what she and Yang had done; if he believed that their simple slumber was something more, then her other fear would be realized. In a desperate attempt to appease the situation before assumptions could be rationalized or accusations could be made, Blake replied, "Good morning." This seemed to allow Yang to relatively relax and accept their current position.

Cole turned his head to his daughter, looking at her with appraising, yellow eyes. He did not smile nor did his expression give off any indication of happiness at this point in time; instead, he seemed to watch for even the smallest of telling insecurities or nervous habits. It was a very alarming situation to Blake as she had experienced this side of her father's personality only once before. He had always been the supportive, cheerful type who made her feel accepted, but when it came to her desire to join the White Fang, a more deductive, observant figure took the place of her warmer parent. His flat-yellow irises did express care, but through skepticism and patience rather than the immediate recognition Blake was used to. She felt stiff under his gaze, as though anything she did would tell him a story which did not occur. In an attempt to pacify the situation, she asked, "How long have you been awake?"

His eyes lingered on her for a second before moving to Yang. The blonde froze, her eyes widening in barely concealed fear. Eventually, he shrugged and looked out the window again. "About an hour," he hummed. Blake had to force her expression to stay neutral and not show any signs of shock. If he had been awake for an hour—and she was assuming that he had begun counting this hour once he reached the kitchen—then he most likely saw her and Yang laying together outside. If this was the case, it was possible that he could assume something had occurred. However, he spoke again. "Don't worry, you're not in any sort of trouble. Although, your mom does want to go out for breakfast to discuss what happened."

They wanted to take her and Yang to a public place where any sort of unrestrained emotion would be considered irresponsible. Her parents had already strategized and this did not bode well in the young Faunus' mind. To Yang's credit, she seemed far calmer than Blake felt at the moment, being unreactive and still. It had been implied that her mother knew about "what had happened", likely causing some degree of dissent to take hold of her mind. This was surprising because Lilian had already informed Blake of how she would support whatever actions she chose because she was "her own woman" now. Unfortunately, full support had not been given for the relationship with Yang. Blake did not believe her mother hated Yang nor the relationship; rather, she disagreed with and doubted the relationship and this was the possible cause of her desire to head to a public location and discuss "what happened."

Of course, this could have been her parents' one final attempt to reconnect with Blake's life before she returned to Vale the day after. If this was the case, then the breakfast would be a somber one indeed. This was rationalized when Cole spoke again with a hidden tone of kindness shallowly buried beneath the neutral expression that seemed to pain him. "Go get changed. I'd bet sleeping out there wasn't the cleanest of experiences, so I can't fault you if you feel like you need to change into something else." Blake watched him for a moment, attempting to gauge his level of sincerity. Unfortunately, his expression remained statuesque, unchanging for everything other than the obvious discomfort he had about concealing his emotions. Her only way left to measure of his trustworthiness was to recall the time she had spent with him as a child—a single bad memory appeared amongst a sea of positive visions, forcing her to nod in acceptance before motioning Yang to move into the living room. "Take your time," he said. "We'll be ready to go when you are." At this, the couple left.

"Blake?" Yang whispered, losing all sense of tiredness in exchange for concern. "What was that about?"

"Come on." Now was not the time to answer as there was still the potential for her parents to hear them. "We'll talk upstairs." Yang frowned but nodded nonetheless. At some point during their short walk to the stairway, their hands connected. Blake was not sure if it was Yang's doing or if it was her own subconscious to blame, but the action eased a great deal of stress from her mind. Whatever was going on with her parents was disconcerting but Yang was with her and made the situation tolerable. They ascended together, neither allowing their bond to break until they reached the top of the steps. When this point was reached, Blake sighed. "Yang…" She did not know how to phrase the explanation without provoking her girlfriend's temper. Yang had stayed calm about most things this summer, but she had been perhaps over-protective—verging on hostile to others—in the past and had nearly promised to treat her parents similarly if a situation such as the one they were in now were to occur. She looked into her partner's eyes, silently telling her that something neither of them wanted to hear was about to be said. "Yang, I believe my parents are going to try to convince me to end our relationship."

Yang simply frowned. "Is this about your mom being worried about your name not being passed on?" Despite the apparent indignation, she was handling this news quite well.

Blake shook her head. "I don't know what's causing them to do this, but…" She felt as though she had something to say, but the thoughts fell away because of the cruel idea of her and Yang having to separate. They were her parents and though they held considerable leverage over her morality on the issue, she could not see past their presumed motives as being similar to the White Fang's at her time of departure. While the operations of the organization were incomparable in terms of morality to her parents' assumed forceful desire for her to find someone else in a relationship, it was the principle of not wanting someone else to control her actions and future for their own personal preference that upset her. She sighed again, choosing to say what was on her mind instead of what she had been trying to say before. "I don't want them to separate us. I don't want them to plant seeds of doubt in our mind or yell at you for our being together."

A hand was placed on Blake's shoulder, stopping her impending tirade. Yang's concerned look lingered. "I don't want to lose you either, Blake, and I'm not going to. We'll listen to what they have to say and argue if we have to but I'm not losing you. I know they're your parents and I'll treat them respectfully, but bowing's just not in my nature. And it's not in yours either, I don't think." She smiled, melting the fearful cold that burdened Blake's mind. "Everything's going to be okay. They can try to pull as apart, but I don't think they'll be able to. I'll never leave you, Blake. I promise."

Doubts blackened the mind of the young Faunus. They could try to fight back with their words and keep their integrity, but Blake believed that in the end they would fail in their endeavors just like the original White Fang had. However, her thoughts were interrupted by Yang suddenly moving closer and kissing her. The action lasted only a moment, but it was able to pull her back up from the shadowy abyss of hypothetical negativity. When Yang pulled away, Blake knew that her partner's conviction had no cracks in it and that they would remain together no matter what her parents had to say. "It's going to be all right," Yang assured. The kiss had bolstered Blake's confidence in the blonde and allowed her to smile. "They're your parents and I don't think they're going to risk losing you again. No matter what, you're not going to lose me and you're not going to lose them."

Yang's point in saying this, Blake believed, was to introduce the idea that the impending discussion was not a battle like she had been preparing for, but simply a discussion. Her mother was the type to speak figuratively, but seldom did she spin the connotations of a word to fit a threatening end. When her father said that they were going to "discuss" the situation, Blake believed that he had been quoting what her mother had said. If this was the case and her assumptions about her mother's manner of speech proved to be correct, then she could believe that they were not heading into a battle. Blake sighed. "Thank you," was all she managed to say.

"You're welcome." Yang grinned, destroying the somber, ponderous atmosphere that had settled over them. "Now go get ready. I've gotta pull some of this grass out of my hair so I can look presentable while you take care of whatever you have to. I'll be in my room if you need me." Yang winked as the hand that gripped Blake's shoulder dropped before she began to move towards the door opposite her partner's room. However, before she opened her door, she looked back. "Hey, are you going to need your jacket? It looks like it's going to rain out there."

So, Yang had brought her spare jacket with her? Furthermore, she was referring to it as Blake's? The young Faunus smiled but declined. It was a compelling offer, but her parents did not need any more subjects to talk about. She was calm about the situation, but feared the remaining possibility that could lead to her parents' outright denial of their relationship. Yet Yang had told her that they would continue to care for her and because of this, she was not afraid. "I'll be fine. A little rain won't bother me."

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Antiquity was the apparent effect this restaurant desired to achieve and did so without the slightest of cracks in its illusory veil. Wooden walls, floorboards, and tables topped with kerosene lamps made this dimly lit establishment seem initially comfortable and warm but ultimately foreboding when coupled with the dour grey of the early morning and the disgruntled consciousness of the nameless masses. The faces of those around the four were obfuscated by flickering, uneven shadows created by the lanterns, leaving the many patrons to see only each other but hear everything around them. Despite her low-light abilities, Blake could only bear to see her partner and parents—her mother across from her, her father next to his wife, and Yang thankfully beside the young Faunus. None here were tired as proven evident by the small flame that burned between them, this fear beneath façades of hesitant sternness. Blake could not say that she was unafraid; she had been holding onto Yang's hand beneath the table so that she would not feel alone in this situation. Yang held on as well as she alternated her gaze between Lilian and Cole. This was not a battle, but Blake could not stop thinking as though it was.

Yang and Cole all but jumped in surprise when a waiter arrived to place their ordered drinks down. Blake and her mother, however, remained still and relatively calm. Two coffees, an orange juice, and a water were set down in front of the parents, Yang, and Blake respectively. Cole shooed him away afterwards, saying that he would be called over once they were ready to order and that he wasn't to approach until then. Blake's parents had brought them to this public place and had asked to be seated at the room's centermost table. Nobody was likely to see them in the dining area's darkness, but Blake could feel eyes being trained on her and she feared that those at the other tables had begun to presume who she was due to her Faunus traits remaining unbound. There were not too many people here, but they were a nameless, faceless group nonetheless and she was afraid. Fortunately, Yang was there and had managed to ease some of her discomfort with a squeeze of a hand.

Her mother and father looked to each other, silently conversing for a moment before they turned back to the young couple. "I believe it would be best to forego small talk and get right to our purpose in bringing you here." Lilian's gaze bored into Blake as she said this. "You are leaving tomorrow for Vale. This timeframe does not allow for much of what we could say to be instilled and be properly appreciated. Blake, Yang, we are concerned for you. We are concerned about you."

Cole shifted in his seat and moved his hands to cradle the cup before him. "What your mother is saying is that we care for you and don't want to see you get hurt—either of you."

"Blake," her mother began, "you have been away for a very long time. Three days is hardly enough for us to learn who you have become, but it is what we have had to work with; and though our conversations during your visit have been rather enlightening, we are still unfortunately in the dark. Your entire early adult life is gone from us and we admittedly feel cheated. However, you are your own woman now and all we can do at this point is ask you to let us into your life once more. We are not asking you to stay in Sierra and are we asking you to give up your ways; rather, all we ask is that you allow us the peace of mind and reassurance we have been looking for since you left us."

Blake looked down at the table, trying to process this request. They were not asking her to give up her relationship with Yang, but they were asking her to reconnect with them. She thought that her obvious answer should have been an agreement of some kind, but she doubted that this would be appropriate. They were her parents but at the same time they were strangers to her. She had lived away from them longer than she had lived with them and while sentiments still existed, many of the bonds inherently formed between a child and her parents had been broken. She cared for them, admired them, and respected them as individuals, but could not bring herself to love them. Yet she was certain that they loved her and she knew that to disregard this fact would be wrong. They had a parental right to retain some form of contact and connection with her, but she was not entirely certain that either party would truly want this. "Sweetheart," her father called, bringing her gaze back up from the table, "we just want to know what happened and what went wrong. We don't expect you to come running into our arms or anything like that, but we'd like it if you just talked to us."

That had always been the problem, hadn't it? Lack of communication had forced her into joining the White Fang, leaving the organization, and had even caused numerous conflicts with her teammates simply because she could not bring herself to speak. Yang looked to her with an expression that was either pleading or concerned—whichever sentiment it proved to be, she could not tell. "Fine," Blake sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Simply who you are," her mother answered. "But to learn this, we must have an idea of what you have done and where you have been. You must understand that we lack the perspective that you have and can only speculate so much. Our knowledge of you ended ten years ago and only returned once your school called us."

The latter statement momentarily piqued Blake's interest. It was two days after she had arrived in Sierra and she was still unsure of how her parents had found her after all these years. The brief mention of someone in Beacon calling them confused her. At this point, she could only assume that some member of the faculty had called a couple of months ago to inform her parents that their daughter's summer break was approaching. This assumption led her to believe that some correspondence had occurred between her parents and the school, eventually leading to their call to the sister's home. However, how the school had found her parents was still unknown as she had not supplied their names or address. Belladonna was not a common surname—for all she knew, the name belonged only to her and her parents—so it was likely some research into the kingdom's records could have found her parents. This raised the issue of an invasion in privacy, but now was not the time to debate this; her parents still expected information. "What do you want to know?" she repeated.

Her mother took a sip of coffee before initiating eye contact. "Why don't we begin with the most pressing issue of all?" Blake sighed. "The White Fang." It seemed to her as though the restaurant's patrons shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the mention of the organization's name. Whether or not this was true or if they could have heard Lilian was yet to be determined, but the subject made Blake somewhat uncomfortable regardless.

Yang tightened her brows, reacting to the words far more enthusiastically than the former member of the organization did. "Don't you think it's a little early to be talking about that? She won't even talk to me about that stuff and we've had to fight them."

Lilian's gaze turned to Yang, making it apparent that she intended to speak, but Blake squeezed her partner's hand first. "No, it's all right," the young Faunus said. "They deserve answers—they have deserved answers—and so do you." She turned her gaze to the blonde. "Sooner or later, you're going to have to learn this, so why not now?"

"You know you don't have to do this, right? I'd be fine with not knowing."

"Yang," Blake pleaded, "this isn't about what I want. Being kept in the dark is painful and you know this, but being kept in the dark for as long as I have been away can destroy a person." The blonde's reactive frown was not out of disappointment, but out of uncomfortable acceptance. "You need to know this as much as they do."

Blake could only hope that her partner would understand why she was willing to entrust them with this knowledge. The information she had suppressed and repressed was at its best incriminating and at its worst able to evoke painful, crippling memories. Due to the pain that this information could cause, Blake did not take its dispersal lightly. Her parents deserved to know because they had raised her until the point that she left and because she did not want to keep them in a state of unknowing stagnancy such as she had been while in the organization. At a fundamental level, they were her parents—the only biological family she had—and they cared for her; they had every right to know. Yang's involvement was more for their future together than their past. If they were to fight together in the years to come, Blake believed that if anyone deserved to know who she was, it was her partner. This stance was only supported by her love for the girl. Yang continued to look critically at the young Faunus, before her expression dropped altogether. "Fine," she resigned.

With this said, Blake turned her attention back to her parents. "I am willing to tell you what has happened since I left, but I warn you that I doubt you will like what you hear."

"We could not have expected the opposite," stated Lilian.

The girl's amber gaze shifted to her father. He looked nervous despite the confident expression he forced. He nodded, accepting his daughter's warning before she asked, "Where would you like me to begin?"

"Well," Cole began, "why don't you start off from when you left?"

Blake looked back down at the table and sighed, "Okay." She felt Yang's hand grip hers reassuringly, making this story only just easier to tell. Without looking up to her parents, she began. "To be honest, I don't remember much of that night. I remember shouting at you and you telling me that I was 'just a child' and that it wasn't safe out there. I thought you were talking about the world the Faunus have to live in and how it wasn't safe to exist, let alone succeed, but I was mistaken. I was shouting propaganda—sayings and mottos printed on the flyers I had stacked in my room—but I never understood why. You seemed to be in the wrong and when you said that I wasn't allowed to leave, my urge to flee only became stronger. I know I probably should have stayed and spared some of the pain that would eventually be inflicted to me, but I cannot change that now nor would I want to if I had the chance."

Cole stared into his coffee, potentially as a means of distracting himself from the memories that he and his pained daughter shared. Her mother continued to watch her, giving no indication of a desire to speak. Yang, on the other hand, asked, "So, how did you get into the White Fang—like, how did you actually join them? You were what, eight at the time?"

"I…" Blake watched her mother's expression, knowing that it was likely to change after the stories she would be told. "I read about a White Fang outpost in the mountains and it turned out to be true. I tried to walk there, but I was young and not ready for the distance. I had to hitchhike to the outpost, but nobody was willing to drive close to it because they knew." Her mother's brows knitted, revealing barely concealed consternation on her part. "As to how I got to the outpost, I don't remember. All I know is that I slept on the way and awoke in the middle of nowhere with the man who had driven me pointing in the direction of the town where the outpost was located. I had to walk the rest of the way, but it was a manageable distance. When I reached the town, I realized why the White Fang had placed an outpost there.

"I guess they were there for the Faunus refugees from both Mistral and Vale—the ones who had fled to find safety from discrimination—because the amount of hate running through the crowd was…influential to say the least. They weren't bad people, not all of them. There were a few who were shameless murderers, but the people there were scared for the most part. It seemed to resonate with me, that fear. They were afraid for the same reasons I wanted to join the organization and it only made my decision all the more clear." Blake had begun to absent-mindedly draw in the condensation of her glass, always forming the pattern of three parallel lines. "As you said, I was eight years old, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. I had made it to that run-down shack they called an outpost by myself and I wanted to fight. Perhaps due to my fatigue, my will to fight manifested in a more physical sense than conversational, judging by how I dealt with the guards who tried to keep me out." She did not intend on describing the situation with the guards, fearing that what she could say would shock her parents and make them see her in a different light. However, her mother's gaze remained even and her father seemed somberly rapt because of this story. She sighed, knowing that they wanted to hear what happened even if she did not want to say it. "They tried to keep me out, telling me that I was too young, but I was tired and angry and I had seen the hate of the refugees. Somehow, I managed to break one of the guard's legs and the other's nose before I was knocked unconscious. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but…" She trailed off.

"But you had to," her father completed. "We all make mistakes, some of us worse than others, but that doesn't mean we're bad people because of it."

"That's exactly what I thought about the White Fang at first." His kind expression faltered before he returned to looking at the liquid in front of him. In this pause, Blake's unbound ears perked at the light pattering on the building's faraway windows. This new sound momentarily distracted her from the unfortunate recollection so that she could look to those around her. With the coming rain, the room had darkened, leaving the only helpful lights to be those meager flames in the dusty lanterns. The indistinct figures at the surrounding tables seemed tired and quiet—distracted if she was to be optimistic. Lilian had an odd look about her. It was appraising as per usual but she seemed as though she was struggling to accept some great truth. Cole, despite seeming more interested in distancing himself from the conversation, frequently looked to both Blake and Yang, watching their expressions until he found some telling change. It was likely he did not enjoy what he was hearing, but he was bearing with the discussion for his daughter's sake.

Yang had taken only a single sip of her juice since it had been delivered apparently troubled like everyone else. She didn't say anything during the elaboration, but communicated with Blake during her entire soliloquy that she was supported through the warmth of her aura and the grip of her hand. When the Faunus had remarked upon the injuries she had both given and sustained as a child, the grip changed. Blake did not know if it was out of amusement that would be expected from her partner or out of sober respect for an otherwise traumatic incident. Whatever the case was, Blake was thankful that she had reacted when her parents did not. It is not to say that she thought poorly of them, but she believed that their reactions were based more on parental principle than personal sentimentality which Yang had found over this past year. In this cold, dark environment, Yang's warmth and presence kept the normally reserved Faunus composed and willing to continue.

Before she began again, Blake made use of the water she had ordered. Speaking was not a problem for her, but speaking for as long as she had without pause could present difficulties later on, seeing as how she still had a great deal to explain. "When I awoke, I found myself on a cot in the outpost." She was about to go on, but realized the next subject she was to cover and shuddered because of it. "Apparently, because I put up such a fight, the guards thought it would be best to keep me prisoner, but when I awoke, I met the commanding officer of the outpost." She still remembered the officers' coats—their black coats when all the others wore white—and their swords. Swords were for the strong, they said. For those who could prove their worth in close-quarters, uncomfortable, personal combat. She pried herself from the thought and resumed. "I was told that I would fit well in the organization and that I had the spirit of no member he had ever seen despite me injuring his guards. He," she remembered his face, "told me that they would welcome me into their cause if I allowed him to train me. I didn't know what to think—I didn't know what to do because I was a prisoner without knowing the true meaning of the word—but I accepted." She remembered his horns.

"From that point, I learned how to debate and uphold the White Fang's ideals. I learned claims and concepts that would counter the ideologies of those against us. I learned how to read between the lines with purpose you could never instill in me." This was directed at her mother. "They taught me how to stand up for my…for their beliefs and how to defend myself. After they accepted me, I learned how I was able to incapacitate the guards. At ten, I learned infiltration and espionage techniques so that I could subvert our enemies. At thirteen, I was given a gun. When I was sixteen, I built my own and began my training in how to wield a sword."

Cole looked up at her. "They were training you to become a leader," he concluded.

How he had been able to come to this conclusion with the information given was surprising. Of course, he had been watching her, but this did not explain how he was able to connect her timeline with her conditioning. Unfortunately, the young Faunus did not realize the vehemence she had spoken against her training with. However he had figured this out, he was correct, causing Blake to nod. "When I joined the White Fang, I believed we would be protesting, speaking in forums, and sharing our rationale with the world. Do you remember the information I had on them before I left? All it talked about was either a gathering or a protest. I wanted to reason with people and express my thoughts through words. When he accepted me, I thought he would teach me how to do this effectively. I never wondered why they taught me how to defend myself and I did not question his logic when he handed me a gun. I thought that the operations and protests we went on were for peace or to acquire information that would further our rights.

"He led me to believe that we were peacefully helping our cause, allowing me to be the one to gather information and simply observe our unnamed enemies. Meanwhile, he and the others were destroying the foundation of the organization. I didn't realize that what they were doing was wrong until I was given a sword to train with. By then, I had already forsaken my beliefs."

Tears would not have been the appropriate for this story. Instead, Blake's free hand balled into a fist as she shuddered with frustration. The young Faunus did not initially react when Yang disconnected their hands to pull her and her chair closer so that a comforting arm could be placed around her. Cole seemed to focus on this display of care while Lilian asked, "Did you voice your opinion on the matter? Did you stand up for what you believed when the organization strayed from its original goal? Did you fail to realize that the White Fang is not a stable organization but a sinking ship that you voluntarily bought a ticket for? Did you not listen to what we said when you left us?" She seemed as though she was going to continue asking rhetorical questions, but a sudden wave of heat stopped her.

For a moment, the room was fully illuminated due to the momentary increased strength of the fires in the lamps. Both of Blake's parents looked to the light on their table, finding that its flame had quickly reduced to its regular size while the other patrons continued to look for the case of the flash. Blake turned to her partner, more concerned for her wellbeing than her own integrity. Yang was sending a scarlet glare Lilian's way as she growled, "She was eight. There was no way she could have known how bad they were. Give her a break."

Lilian did not so much as flinch as she returned with an even stare. "I am aware of this fact. However, I am not critiquing her past actions as those cannot be changed. Surely you must be aware of how she continues to defend the organization? Her speech is never absolute and fails when referencing any action that may be considered wrong in her eyes."

Yang continued to glower at her. "Maybe her speech fails sometimes because her time with them was traumatizing. I've been through some bad times and from what I hear, you have too. Don't get on her case for something she has trouble talking about."

"Well," Cole interjected, drawing the searing look his way, "I don't think she has trouble talking about what she has told us. If Blake is still the same girl as she was when she left, then she won't talk about something if it's really bothering her. She agreed to talk about this, so I think on some level she's okay with telling us about it." Unfortunately, he was the only one at the table who was reading Blake correctly. The reason why this was unfortunate was because he had this knowledge and had shifted the conversation with it.

"This implies that there are events beneath and between what we have been told that are more troubling than what she has said to us already." Lilian remained calm, never raising or lowering her voice. "I believe you are confusing the trauma that both you and I have received with Blake's betrayal. I assume that you are equating your past to mine because you fell victim to a circumstance beyond your control at a formative age." Yang's expression contorted to one of confusion, removing the red tint from her irises. "Blake volunteered for the organization and showed dedication to its beliefs when she was still a child. She was able to retain that naïveté when she joined the organization. She spent her latter formative years alongside murderers, terrorists, and general misrepresentations of the Faunus people and likely began to believe that they were the accepted standard. Yang, our pain spawns from fixed points in time and grows with each day that it is not resolved. Blake's pain comes from every moment before a certain point in time—likely in the form of an epiphany—because that is when she learned that everything she knew was a lie."

Cole returned to looking into his coffee. "That's nine or ten years of uncertainty—of not knowing what's real and what's not. Nobody should have to go through that." He looked up to meet Yang's unsure gaze, his eyes hosting a ferocity that Blake had never seen before. It should be noted that his unrest was not caused by or focused on the blonde. "I'm not a hateful person—I think that everyone has a good bone in their body—but what they did to my daughter is not only inexcusable, it's evil. I don't care about their politics or how beneficial they used to be. They brought Blake in after she wanted to be one of them for months and they had the audacity to try to corrupt her into the person they wanted her to be. That's disgusting. She is Blake Belladonna, my daughter, and they changed her for their own sick purposes." A small cracking noise was heard and halted all emotion in the four at the table. He looked to his mug and when he pulled his hands away, he found that the handle had come off and had split in two. He sighed. "It's just…Blake, I wish I was there to help. I wish I could have convinced you not to go and I wish I could have been there for you." By his speech, he sounded as though he was on the verge of tears, but by his expression this did not seem to be the case. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Blake's reason for saying this was not only to console her father for matters that never warranted an apology in the first place, but to quiet the argument that had nearly occurred between her mother and Yang. Tensions were high right now and nobody deserved any hostility. They all looked to her with their respective forms of caring expressions, Cole with his sad and hopeful frown, Lilian with her appraising and agreeing gaze, and Yang with a soft, confident smile. It was this latter expression that inspired continuance on the young Faunus' part. "The experience was traumatizing, yes, and I am aware of the mistakes I made in leaving, but it's over now and I no longer associate myself with them. I know what I did wrong and how I can make amends for it. There is nothing to worry about."

Her father seemed to have been appeased by this statement, most likely due to him being the most readily trusting of the group. Her mother and Yang, however, seemed unconvinced. Her mother's reasoning was most likely caused by something said in the conversation—something telling and something she could latch onto for figurative or subsurface meaning. Yang's, look was of incredulity. Her expression silently asked if Blake was joking, likely recalling the events of the storm that had shaken the reserved Faunus. Yang was perceptive and doubtlessly knew that neither that incident nor the episode in the bookstore was caused by a simple fear of thunder. Out of the three here, Yang knew Blake best. The blonde was given a slight smile that informed her that everything was all right. Seeing this allowed her to smile back in kind.

Lilian retained her neutral look. "And what of the mistakes you made while you sided with the organization? Are they amendable? Can you take responsibility for them or must you continue to run?" Yang's incredulous look returned and was focused on the mother. Lilian raised a hand to halt the expression and any apparent worries. "I ask not for my own safety, but for yours. I would like to know if your actions will have lasting effects and if you have plans to deal with them."

"Are you asking if I have committed any crimes?" Her mother grimly nodded, forcing Blake to sigh. She had to take a moment to compose her answer, knowing that whatever she could say would undoubtedly change her parents' impression of her. Unfortunately, she could think of no means of concealing the truth for this particular response. "Yes," she said simply. Despite her succinct answer, her mother nodded, imploring her to continue and elaborate. Again, Blake sighed. "During my time with the White Fang, I have been involved with breaking and entering, corporate espionage, smuggling, racketeering, and terrorism. There are others, but they are not nearly as severe and I doubt you would want to hear about them."

Blake could not have predicted how badly her parents' reaction would hurt, but when her mother lost her flat look for a frown and her father returned to his broken cup of coffee, she knew that they were disappointed in her and she felt disgusted in herself because of it. Not even Yang reacted in a reassuring manner; probably because she was likely confused and upset as well. Until someone reacted, Blake would begin to rationalize against her purposes for joining the White Fang in the first place and would start to see the faults in her character—her pride, her moral stubbornness, her self-destructive tendencies . However, somebody spoke up and what she said was not reassuring. "Have you killed anyone?" her mother bluntly asked.

Suddenly, Blake was pulled closer to the warm form beside her. "What are you doing?" Yang asked, offense evident in her tone. "Never ask someone a question like that." Even Blake's father was looking at Lilian in astonishment. Blake, on the other hand, had expected this question somehow and thusly did not give as animated a reaction as the other two.

Ignoring her partner's reaction, Blake replied, "I have not."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "You did not say no."

"For all intents and purposes," Blake sighed, "I have aided and abetted in multiple homicides—more than I can count or have knowledge of." A rhythmic, metallic noise echoed throughout her mind, sounding powerfully and rapidly as wind whipped past her hair. "I have not killed another person myself," explosions occurred around her, alerting Blake that one objective had been completed but another would most likely attack her in the next second, "but have allowed for others to do so, unwittingly or not." She had to ask herself what was more important: resources or integrity—Dust or the lives of humans she had never met. "I assume that I am wanted in several kingdoms," the Forrest of Forever Fall flashed in her mind as the train continued its roaring noise, "including Vale. Fortunately, I do not believe they know my name or face and those who do would not risk informing public officials." She saw his scowl. "Have I killed anyone? No, but by being with the White Fang, I have paved the way for the deaths of hundreds."

"Blake," her father soothed, moving a hand from his mug to rest atop his daughter's. "You're being too hard on yourself. I imagine you're having a rough time dealing with all of this, but just because you made a mistake doesn't mean you did anything wrong. And you certainly didn't kill anyone—you said it yourself."

Her tired, amber gaze turned to him. "Dad, I wasn't just trained to become a leader. I was tasked with twenty-nine White Fang members during a protest in southern Vale. I was personally responsible for their safety and guidance and I failed catastrophically. Those were twenty-nine people whose names I never knew and whose fates were of injury, arrest, or death. I only knew the fates of two people on that day: myself and the ambassador who was speaking of peace. Because of my failure, he and many others died." Her expression darkened, leaving her voice to simmer at a dejected mutter. "No, I'm not being too hard on myself. Realistically, I'm not giving myself enough credit."

As her father gave a pleading look, Yang leaned against the young Faunus, rubbing her arm and exuding a distracting warmth all the while. Blake tried to maintain a glare on her father, but between his worried expression and Yang's efforts, her look lost its edge. Her partner began repeating, "It's okay. You're safe now." Hearing this chant slowly broke the stern expression Blake had been carrying and eventually caused tears to well at the corners of her eyes. She tried to fight against the emotion, thinking that she had already cried enough over the loss of lives, but seeing her parents and Yang in pain alongside her caused the tears to begin to fall despite her best efforts. She did not weep nor sob, instead simply allowing the tears to fall without care. She had entered the organization with peaceful intent and left with the lives of at least thirty people on her shoulders. Five more—Ruby, Weiss, Yang, and her parents—would be added to this list. No matter how far she had come, no matter how much training she had been through to change, she was still the same scared little girl looking for a way to make the world a better place. She was a crying coward and it was evident to all the shadowy figures around her.

"Blake, I," her mother hesitated and stammered, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…to evoke such memories."

Through her tears, Blake stared blankly at the woman in front of her. "Don't speak to me about intent." Blake spoke in a low, pained growl. "Never speak to me about intent."

Her father withdrew his hand and her mother folded hers in her lap, evidently chastising herself for bringing back this pain. "Blake," Yang whispered. For a split second, the thought of screaming at the source of the voice and telling it to leave her alone came to mind, but she stopped herself because it was Yang. Now she wanted to scream at herself for being such a convoluted mess. Fortunately, Yang whispered her name again and the sound became the only thing the young Faunus could focus on. "Blake, it's going to be okay. It'll be all right if you let it. Everything's going to be okay." There was no logic behind these words, only hopeful optimism, and yet it stopped the flow of tears and allowed Blake to control her ragged breaths. She closed her eyes and felt her partner turn to her parents and say, "Okay, enough questions about her. I know you wanted to talk to me too, so let's talk." Yang put no effort into concealing her motive in changing the conversation. "What do you want to know?"

An awkward silence settled over the four despite the blonde's attempt at moving the conversation along. Blake didn't care how her parents were dealing with her reaction, too content to wallow in self-loathing misery instead. They had said that they wanted to see her again when in reality her parents only wanted to see the girl they had once known come back to them. Blake had robbed them of that girl—she had stolen ten years from their lives. She wanted to apologize but could not because the two across the table kept pushing her away, telling her that she was still the same person she used to be. They were right; she had changed and deprived them of their only child—an action only committable by the worst of criminals.

Without a response from her parents, Blake's distress was only allowed to fester. Yang, however, acted and pulled her partner's head closer to her chest as she whispered, "It's all right, kitten. Everyone here loves you for who you are. We don't care about what you did in the White Fang because you're here now and you're safe with us." Kitten. That was all she was: an ignorant child still enamored with whatever concepts were immediately in front of her at any point in time. Her thoughts were interrupted once more by Yang saying, "It's okay, Blake. You're not the White Fang." Blake hesitated for a moment, trying to return to her self-loathing state, but could not find a means to do so and instead allowed herself a quiet whimper as she leaned into Yang's collar.

Yang did not bother paying attention to the two across the table, instead focusing on keeping her girlfriend safe and warm. Though Blake could not see it, her parents looked to each other, silently conversing and debating over the show of emotion that was occurring before them. They were hesitant but they seemed to understand what was occurring between the physical tells and conversational meaning. Their deliberation ended with Cole's nod, leading to them returning their gaze to the young couple. They would wait for Blake's shivering to slow and for her breath to ease before Cole asked, "Yang?" As she was preoccupied with the girl in her arms, she could only respond with a questioning hum. "Um, if it would be all right, would you still be willing to move the conversation towards you?

The response they were given was not with her usual, sunny cheer, but instead with a distracted indifference. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Blake nuzzled closer to her, trying to take solace in her presence. Yang's speech was absent and monotonous at first, but livened eventually. "Do you want me to start at the beginning, too? Honestly, I'm not used to talking about myself like this, so I'm sorry ahead of time if my explanations aren't good enough."

Surprisingly, Lilian was the one who gave the reassurance. "It's all right. You do not have to explain anything you are uncomfortable with. Your agreement alone tells a lot about you, so please, by all means, take whatever time you need." Blake could only listen to her mother's words, not willing to look at the woman yet. She may have seemed as though she lacked empathy when she normally spoke, but this was not the case. Like Weiss, she was cold, distant, and imperious in nature, but underneath her stoic façade, she had a deep care for those around her and those who would be involved in her life. Regardless of the suspect permanence of Blake and Yang's relationship, the two would be entrusted with each other's lives as combat partners and Lilian undoubtedly knew this. Regardless of if she approved of the relationship, she cared for Yang and this was evident from this uncharacteristic appeasement.

The hand that had been cradling Blake's head lowered to her arm as its owner took a deep breath. "Okay, where to begin?" She took a moment, presumably so that she could compile her story in the correct order or so that she could recall certain defining instances in her life that others would care to listen to. Through her melancholy state, Blake was able to force her attention away from her own past and towards her girlfriend's. When Yang had said that she was uncomfortable with talking about herself, she had not been lying. It had taken Blake more than a semester to learn her partner's semblance and even longer to learn something personal about her. While many believed that Blake was the enigmatic member of Team RWBY, she believed that Yang should hold this title instead—not because of her avoidance of others (which did not exist), but because of her often concealed humbleness. Despite the residual sadness that burdened her, Blake was willing to focus her attention on her partner's story.

Yang began. "Well, my entire family's made up of hunters. Me and Ruby are no different. I was born in Vale, raised in Patch around Signal Academy, and then moved back to Vale with my sister. Actually, our home technically was in Vale when we were growing up, but with dad and my uncle teaching at the school I was attending, they didn't see much reason for us to leave the island. My mom owned the house—well, the land was given to her by the city because of something she did, but she still owned the house. That was where me and Ruby went during our summer and winter breaks and it's where we live now."

Lilian cut in. "If you live there now, where are your parents? It did not sound as though they were present whenever we called."

Yang shook her head. "It's an all right place, I guess. It's not around as many people as dad's apartment in Patch, but that was probably better for Ruby—she's not really the best at first impressions." She was ignoring Lilian's question and distracting Blake from her discomfort—at least, this is what the young Faunus assumed was happening. This was her story to tell and she did not seem willing to let anyone else intervene at the moment. "Anyways, you wanted me to talk about myself. So, I did all right at Signal. I passed the physical and combat courses with no problems, but didn't really like a lot of the class work. I didn't fail any of the classes, but I'm nowhere near as smart as Blake here." The hold she had the referenced girl in tightened for a moment. "But I'm not just some dumb blonde like many people tend to assume. I may not speak as well as you all, but language has never been my strong suit. Combat and forging, though, that's what I know—well, I made built my weapons and bike from scratch, so I think I'm kinda good at forging, but I like combat more."

"Wait," Cole said. "So, you and Blake both said you built your weapons?" The blonde nodded. "How does that work?"

Because Blake's eyes were closed, she could not see the enthusiastic smile that had finally returned to her partner's features. "Well, there's a whole class on that at Signal. We all had to build our own weapons before we were allowed to graduate. It's actually pretty easy once you get the hang of it—the Dust is pretty volatile, though. That's sometimes not fun." She grimaced, apparently having brought up a bad memory of her own. "I'd imagine the White Fang taught Blake how to build hers, too. As big as they are, I'm sure they have a forgemaster in their ranks if they haven't just kidnapped one already from the Atlesian military like everything else they have."

Thankfully, her parents seemed to ignore this last comment. "And then you built a…bicycle?" he asked, obviously confused by his anticlimactic interpretation. "Judging by how much you talk about combat, I have a feeling that it's some sort of battle bike."

"First, it's a motorcycle, not a bicycle. Second, you'd be surprised." When she laughed, Blake's mood lifted by a small, but noticeable degree. "'Battle bike!' I like that. I might just use that sometime." Unfortunately, the parents did not react as positively as the naturally sunny girl did despite the father's joking attitude. This caused her chuckle to sputter and eventually dissipate as she realized their mood. Had Blake the energy to do so, she would have laughed as well if only so her partner would not be alone in this awkward situation.

"And that necklace?" Blake's mother stared somberly at the chain around Yang's neck. "Did you create that yourself?"

Yang's laugh had faded away completely by this point, leaving her response to come in the form of a rather calm shake of the head. "No, Blake gave this to me." With her free hand, she lifted the pendant so she could see the amber gem for herself. "It's…" It was evident to the young Faunus that her partner was attempting to describe what the jewel was or what it meant to her but was failing to find a way that would satisfy her parents' curiosity. Yang sighed and looked back to the parents. "Honestly? This is the nicest gift I've ever received." At this revelation, Blake's eyes opened again to look at the necklace in surprise. "I don't mean that I get a lot of gifts, but whenever Ruby or my uncle gives me something for my birthday, it's usually something that serves a purpose—like, upgrades for Ember Celica or something like a pair of boots I looked at once before."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Who?" Yang mimicked the action before her eyes widened. "Oh! Ember Celica? That's what I named my gauntlets." He continued to hold his confused expression. "It's customary to name your weapon after you make it yourself. It's a luck thing or something superstitious like that. I think I was told that if a weapon doesn't have a name, it's just a tool, but if it does, it's sort of like an 'extension of yourself.' I'm not sure what I think about all that, but I can't argue with the results! You should see Blake with hers." The young Faunus closed her eyes again, knowing that she lacked the will to stop the unwanted things Yang was about to tell her parents. "If you have any doubts about her being a fighter, you should see her in action. Poetry in motion. She calls her weapon 'Gambol Shroud' and I don't even know exactly what it is. It has a gun and a sword—actually, two swords—and she can throw it! Well, that's all I know about it, but man, is it amazing when she uses it."

Blake's embarrassment, at a small percentage, could be said to have been caused by her partner's overzealous praise but was most notably caused by her mother's quiet, almost inaudible chuckle at the name she had given to her weapon. "But as I was saying," thankfully, Yang was directing the conversation away from Blake and the cause of Lilian's laugh, "this is better than all of those—my weapons, my bike, the boots my sister somehow bought for me with no money to her name." Her light, conversational manner of speech had given way to a reverent tone as she turned her head towards Blake. "I know it probably sounds weird, but this necklace means something to me. Normally, I'm the one who has to help out and fix other people's mistakes—and I'm fine with that as long as I'm helping someone I care about—but every once in a while it's nice to have someone care for me as well. Sometimes I don't get a 'Thanks' when I do someone a favor or even an acknowledgement for that matter. But this necklace…I don't know… It's like a reminder that someone actually cares and that's something I've needed pretty badly over these past few years." Yang turned to look to Blake's mother. "I know you probably hate me and I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier, but whatever happens between you and I, Blake's always going to mean a lot to me."

"I can only hope that is the case," Lilian sighed. She took a sip from her coffee, paused for a moment, and met Yang's lilac eyes with her hazel. "Yang, I must admit that you are a difficult person to read and because of this, I cannot bring myself to trust you with the livelihood of my daughter just yet. I hope you understand my stance on this, but though we have conversed rather genially in the past, I still cannot say that I know who you are. Your speech shifts so rapidly from caring to confident, from open to closed, and from cheer to fury. You allude to responsibility but have the disposition of a girl without a care in the world. You speak of trauma and yet you hold yourself as though nothing has or ever could knock you down. Yang, with all my years of learning personalities and analyzing stories—the tales that define who we are from our earliest years—I have yet to find a proper analogy that fits you. You are a flame from what I can see, but I do not know your fuel—I cannot see your motive or purpose. Because of this, I cannot trust you yet."

Unsurprisingly, Yang's expression was a mix of confusion and barely contained anger. She lacked the experience that Blake had with her mother's explanations and thusly must have been unprepared for such an elaborate and detached criticism. Since Yang had yet to speak, Blake's father interjected. "Yang, it's not that we don't like you—you are a charming young lady and a very good friend to Blake—but we don't really know you yet. I'm fine with your relationship, but it's going to take more than three days for my blessing."

Both Blake and Yang's eyes widened in astonishment. Neither had expected his latter statement and had been caught wholly off guard because of it. "I know it's a bit early to think about," he said," but you need to understand where we're coming from. We already let Blake wander off with a group we didn't know everything about and we didn't see her for ten years after that. I have a good feeling about you, but after last time, we can't allow ourselves to work off of instinct alone."

"I, uh…" Blake expected her partner to rebuff the statement about her father's blessing. They were too young to even begin thinking about something that permanent and Yang herself had expressed her fear of this sort of situation before. However, what her partner said—rather, what her partner did not say—was surprising and completely removed all remaining negative sentiments from Blake's mind, forming a blush on her cheeks instead. "Is there anything I can do to gain your trust?"

Lilian allowed herself a small smile. "Time and proven merit. Unfortunately for us all, complete trust cannot be acquired in a single day. If I may be frank with you, I would like to trust you, Yang. You seem to be a very kind person and meeting someone like yourself is a rare occurrence these days. However, necessities are prioritized above desires."

Yang sighed dejectedly. "Okay."

"Though," Lilian began again, causing the blonde to perk up, "it would certainly help if you expanded upon what you failed to mention in your history."

Blake's brows furrowed as Yang asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your story was compelling and laudable, but glaringly dismissive. You failed to mention a few very key points to anyone's person." The blonde's confused expression shifted quickly to defensive. "I can understand if there is information you are uncomfortable with speaking about, but allow me this one piece of information: when Beacon Academy called, telling me that my daughter was staying at the Rose residence for her summer and when your sister answered the phone with the same last name, why do you insist on being called Yang Xiao Long?"

Now it was Blake's turn to glare at her mother. It was her understanding that Yang's surname was an attempt to pay homage to her biological mother's name and because of this—rather, because of the reference to the unknown figure in her partner's life—she was certain this subject would cause pain. However, Yang could defend herself. "What does it matter to you?"

"As I said, trust is gained through proven merit. If you are unable to embellish upon the integrity of your name, then I have no reason to trust you."

"You also said that you'd understand if there was something I didn't want to talk about."

This was followed by perhaps the longest pause in conversation Blake had ever seen her mother take. Seconds ticked away as the woman watched the blonde, contemplating for or against one action or another. "You are not wrong," she eventually she sighed, breaking her steely expression. "Perhaps this trust is not mutual yet. Perhaps trust begets trust." Another pause separated her thoughts from what she would say next. Meanwhile, Cole turned to her, a controlled expression of alarm and concern taking over his features, but was not heeded by the woman sitting beside him. Lilian sighed one more time before beginning. "My name…my name was Lilianne Ducoeur." Cole's expression was now unreadable. "As you can likely tell, the name is not of Vale origin. The Ducoeur family was—and I stress the past tense of this verb—a rather well-off Mistralian family. In a way, my father was like your teammate, the Schnee heiress. However, he was the only son his parents had, leaving him to be the sole inheritor of his surname and its pedigree. My mother was a Faunus of unfortunate circumstance. I will not bore you the details of how their relationship came to be, but when I was born, my father's parents disowned him and their allies and enemies alike came for me, the abomination of impossible design.

"Yang, I know what it's like to fear your own name. We're all characters in our own storybooks with such dark backstories that our existence must certainly be validated at some point in our future. Or is that what we tell ourselves to make us feel as though what we are hiding should stay hidden for the sakes of those around us? You cannot run from your problems forever. Eventually, you must either fight or change. There is no third option in this matter." Her fist was clenched but was being held by one of Cole's hands. She was now glaring at Yang, a terrifying expression to the young Faunus who had seen this look only once before. "Yang, I trust you not with my daughter—not yet—but with information that could destroy me despite how far I've come and how well I've hidden myself. Now I ask that you show the appropriate courtesy and answer my question."

The hold Blake had been held in was released, allowing her to sit up in her own chair and Yang to rest her face in her hands. "Appropriate courtesy? Fear my own name?" Yang's muffled questions frightened Blake because of the anger that scorched each syllable. Yang dropped her hands, revealing her fiery, red glare. "I don't think you understand," she growled. It is to note that while the previous instances of "growling" have indicated anger being only just contained, Yang's current action was indicative of animalistic fury that was not only uncontained, but pointed at a single target. "I laugh at my name. Xiao Long? That's nobody's name and that's why I picked it. You think I should go back to calling myself 'Yang Rose'? You think I would give my pathetic excuse for a father the satisfaction of keeping his name?"

Blake had never seen her partner as upset as she was now. Waves of heat radiated off of her every few seconds, alerting those indiscernible figures around them that something was amiss. However, they would never realize that it was the blonde's fury that caused their discomfort and augmented the light of the room. Blake was scared if she was to be honest with herself. An angry Yang was an uncontrollable Yang and it must be repeated that she had never seen her partner this upset before. Blake was scared for herself, but also for her girlfriend. She called Yang's name but this did not seem to have any effect on her glare. She tried to place a hand atop one of Yang's which now gripped the edge of the table. Unfortunately, the young Faunus did not think her actions through well enough and found that her girlfriend's skin was burning to the touch and was able to bite her fingers when she made contact. Blake ignored the pain, but unfortunately, even when she managed to place a hand over one of the retracted gauntlets, Yang did not relent.

"I get that you're mad and afraid," Yang spat, "but you have no idea how nice your family life sounds to me. At least you got to keep your parents and they were able to raise you. Mine? One ran off, another died, and my father won't even acknowledge me or Ruby anymore." Lilian's countering glare faltered for a second when Yang mentioned the number of parents. "Oh, did I forget to mention that I had three parents? Yeah, all of them failed me. The woman I called mom was the only one of them I actually respected and then she died, leaving me to act as a single parent for her daughter. Do you have any idea how hard it is trying to be a mother figure when you're eight?"

A loud crack sounded in the room as the wood underneath Yang's hands splintered. While her parents' expressions were of differing degrees of fear, Blake could only feel pain when she saw tears begin to stream down Yang's cheeks. "I was supposed to be the big sister, not the surrogate mother, and I've never been good at either one." Her growl had lost its edge and became more of a whimpering cry of desperation. "You wanna know why I'm so positive all the time? It's because I have to be. If I break down, so does my sister and there goes what's left of the Roses!"

In an instant, the overpowering heat in the room was gone and in its place was a shallow silence. Yang spoke in a low, perilous voice with the beginnings of a sob trying to trump whatever she could say. "I understand that you were in pain, but that doesn't mean that everyone else's pain can't compare. I…" She closed her eyes and took a ragged breath. "I'm sorry."

This was all the incentive Blake needed to pull her girlfriend into a hug of her own. She knew that her embrace would never be able to compare to the warm holds that her partner gave, but she would try. As she did this, Blake glared at her parents. Even though they were family, what they did to upset Yang was utterly deplorable. Her father had a wide-eyed expression, showing clearly his fear while her mother stared absently at the blonde, mouthing words that were neither expressed nor comprehensible. Blake wanted to say something to communicate her disappointment in the two before her, but all she could do was shake her head. She had thought Yang to be invincible, but they proved her wrong and for that they were seen as the enemies. Family or not, Yang trusted Blake with her life and the Faunus would fight for her partner as the blonde would fight for her. She simply shook her head.

Her father looked at his coffee for a moment before deciding that it was not his priority. Dolefully he looked to the couple across from himself, watching the emotion and necessity in their respective holds. He had nothing to contribute to the conversation, having trusted Yang since the moment he saw her standing proudly beside his daughter. But at the same time, the fervor in which Lilian interrogated the young girls was instinctually defended out of his love for the woman. It was not his place to speak now, having no tragic upbringing nor unfortunate expectation set upon him by his peers. The young woman glaring daggers at him was the same girl he had watched storm out their front door to join the White Fang so many years ago and because of this, he felt pain. They were one in the same—still scared of what the world truly was but never afraid to confront it head on. He understood why she was glaring at him, though. He had helped orchestrate this scenario with the knowledge that such a reaction was likely to occur. However, he could not say that he was quite ready for any of what had transpired and was now at a loss for what to do. The only thing left for him in this moment was to silently hope that his daughter did not hate him for his mistakes and that someday she would forgive him for something.

Even as Blake glared at her mother, the older woman did not react any further, being obviously at odds with what to do. The only way the young Faunus believed the situation could be rectified was to hold her partner as close as she could and rub her arm as had been done for her so many times before. No longer did any fear of foreign appraisal exist in Blake's mind; she did not care if anyone was watching her hold the blonde and certainly had no interest in any objections they had about her actions. Her attention was focused mostly on her partner's unfortunately shattered façade, but she allocated a small amount of energy to send a questioning glower at her own mother. Eventually, Lilian took a breath. "Yang," she began, calmly but not at all aggressively, "I'm sorry. I have no authority over who you are or how you live your life and I should not have attempted to overextend my reach. And you are correct about my error in believing my pain was the worst of all of ours. Perhaps I have lacked perspective. For what it's worth, I apologize. Had I known the subject would cause this reaction beforehand, I would have never pressed you about it."

After speaking of trust being earned through patience and proven actions, how could she give such a sudden apology when its recipient was still seemingly shocked not only by what had been said to her but by what she had said herself? Was this a flaw in her mother's character—the incapacity to empathize with anything less than the subsurface details in a situation? Every time Blake had spoken to this woman, she had been given esoteric logic that was analytical, agreeable, but seldom personable. A chilling thought came to her mind, comparing her own personality to her mother's. At her younger age, before she left, she had seen her mother as a role model and had focused her education and learning so that she could rival her knowledge. Now, however, Blake wondered whether her efforts were in vain or if they were pointless now that her mother was found to be the compassionless individual she had originally suspected when she was a child. Perhaps this was still simple, childish distrust that plagued many a teenager when it came to their respective parents, but her mother had managed to subvert Yang's kind, loving demeanor and bring about a temperament indicative of anger and heretofore pain. Regardless of what her intentions were, the result was vile.

However, whether or not Blake was interested in the apology was unimportant as she was not the subject of her mother's attempts at reconciliation. The head that was cradled against her chest moved away and turned to look at the woman across from her. Yang was in pain—a mix of fear, despair, and regret forming her features as she spoke. "No, I should be the one apologizing. That was rude of me, lashing out at you like that. Not the best impression to make." She sighed and rubbed the tears from her eyes. As she did so, Blake began to slowly trail her fingers through her partner's hair, feeling its warmth and quietly ridding it of the infrequent knots found within, hoping that by doing so she could calm her. "It's just like what I said. There's a reason I don't like talking about myself because something like this always happens. It's not your fault I'm like this; it's my fault." She closed her eyes again, leaning against Blake before shuddering. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Belladonna. I don't want there to be any bad blood between us because I can't keep my temper in check."

"Yang," surprisingly, it was not Lilian who spoke, but her husband, "it's all right. It's only natural to make mistakes and let yourself get carried away. I'm not saying that getting mad is the right thing to do, but sometimes we just can't help it." Lilian looked as though she had something to say, but he shook his head. "You remind me of when I was your age: headstrong and quick to react. I may not be as outgoing as you are, so I can't say that we're completely the same, but I know you didn't mean to say those things." He turned and smiled at his wife. "Sometimes we try to hide our feelings and tell ourselves that whatever happened was normal and shouldn't be talked about. But all it takes is one moment when emotions get the better of you for all of those memories and thoughts to come tumbling out and fall onto those around you."

Lilian sighed and took a sip of her coffee, trying and failing to recompose herself as well. "I believe Cole's right," she breathed. "All of us—you, Blake, myself, and Cole at times—are prone to bouts of…emotionality." She let out a quiet laugh. "As strange as that may sound coming from me." Blake's glare softened and eventually dissipated as she realized that the antagonistic nature her mother seemed to have was, in reality, her own form of defense. Her façade of neutrality and indifference had broken, showing her conflicted frown, proving to Blake that she was not happy about what had been said and that she had not intended on causing the pain she had. "I'm no monster, but from what I have been told before and from what I see now, it certainly feels as though I am.

"Yang, I do not harbor any resentment towards you. You are a sweet girl and a friend to my daughter. I can understand if you do not trust me and would not hold anything against you for it, but I want you to know that whatever happens, I have great respect for you as a person—not respect from a Faunus to a human, but from one person to another." Yang shifted in Blake's hold before unlatching herself from her partner. Blake received a sad and hopeful smile from the blonde before their attention was turned back towards the speaking woman. "I do not doubt that I will come to trust you, but this trust will not come immediately. And on that matter, I will need time to finalize my judgments on your relationship with my daughter. I hope you understand."

The small smile Yang held broadened for a moment, warming Blake's heart as she said, "That's all I can ask for." At this, the mother smiled as well. Nobody at the table was particularly jubilant or merry, all being in various states of distress and calm, but they were hopeful for what could occur.

Cole's smile widened for a second before he began looking around the room. He began waving at somebody and that somebody was the waiter he had dismissed long ago. With this, the group's orders would be taken now that they could utilize this establishment for its intended purpose. Blake would continue to squeeze her partner's hand as it was gripped back in kind. She calmly watched the overcast atmosphere of the world outside this otherwise tenebrous locale. With Yang by her side, she listened to the rain as it fell on the world around them. There would be no further conversation beside light talk of how the food tasted or how the service was, but nobody at the table felt as though anything else needed to be said for the time being. It was not an appropriate hour for reconnected happiness nor was it late enough to be somber and remorseful. It was a grey day amongst these shifting, uninterested shadows of patrons in the fire-lit room, but those four at the table had come to an agreement and were now contented.

---

The rest of the day had gone in relative peace. After the breakfast—rather, lunch by the time they received their food—they had all returned to the Belladonna household to allow those in distress time to compose themselves in solitude. However, only Lilian chose to be alone, saying that she needed time to deliberate upon the matter at hand. Blake and Yang had chosen to share each other's company in the house's living room, not saying or doing much of anything but recovering through the closeness their hold created. No matter how the breakfast had turned out, there were a number of things that had been said that would haunt the girls for the days to come. They were in a strange state of simultaneous sadness and understanding. It is to say that this state they were in was strange not for Blake who had been used to moods such as this, but for Yang whose negative sentimentalities almost always disappeared scant moments after they surfaced.

Cole had seen their immobility and chose to help the couple. Perhaps it was intended to be a peace offering between one parent and Yang, but he asked if he could take them to get ice cream. "For old time's sake," he had said. Blake's rationale at the time spawned from the idea that sitting in their brooding stupor was counterproductive to recovery as well as the thought that since it was her last day in Sierra for the foreseeable future, her father deserved this one last chance at reconnecting with his daughter. Yang only seemed to agree with the idea because Blake wanted to go; however, her disposition eventually changed when they arrived at the shop. It was when Yang was able to smile again that Blake knew her father's actions had a positive purpose to them. He had told the young couple that he supported their relationship but that he would only allow it to "progress" when Lilian came to accept the relationship as well.

Needless to say, this caused the girls to blush and their speech to become impossible while he laughed. In that shop that Blake had visited years ago, she learned that this trip was never meant to be completely beneficial—ten years away from a person can shatter many of the bonds shared with them—but she found that it had not been completely disheartening either. Though their methods were different, her mother and father cared for her as though she was still their daughter. It was also evident that they cared for Yang as well, judging by this visit to the ice cream shop being more so to brighten Yang's mood than to make Blake nostalgic.

Blake would be lying if she said that she did not care for her parents as well. Though they had brought about her ire this morning, she did not despise them. They were family and she felt obligated to continue to hold some positive sentiments towards them. Her father still treated her as though she was a child, but she believed that was because he had missed out on a majority of her life and had no other way to interact with her. Her mother, on the other hand, treated her as an equal which was a frightening thought to the young Faunus. This meant to Blake that she had reached a respectable level of maturity in her parents' eyes but it also allowed her to believe that because her mother saw her as an equal, her childhood could be said to be in the past now. Blake had spent her entire life trying to be older than she actually was, leading to her involvement with the White Fang, her willingness to abide by the new ideals of the organization, and her belief that the world could only become a better place if she took matters into her own hands. It was a thought that no child should ever have to think.

Now she was preparing to leave them once again, this time on more agreeable terms. It was later in the night, just past dinner but before she planned on going to sleep. Rain continued to patter against the window in her room as she stood alone in the darkness. She kept her light off so that she could watch the spots and rivulets of water make innocuous patterns on the glass against the black sky while she packed. Her belongings were strewn across the bed so that she could ensure that everything she had arrived with was accounted for while her suitcase lay open on the ground beside her. She had found that everything was there, but she had not yet gotten over the events of the morning and was unable to trust herself. Blake tried to will herself to pack, but could not. Her books, clothes, weapon, and the black box that now belonged to her partner rested on her bed, ready to be stored away.

Yang would likely return to this room once she finished packing. It was obvious that the blonde was still slightly unnerved and Blake expected her partner to want to sleep beside her again. The young Faunus had no qualms with this idea besides the concepts of her parents finding them again and the time she presumably had remaining while Yang finished preparing. It was this latter idea that allowed Blake to move and begin packing her clothes.

She didn't know why she was having such trouble finding motivation and drive. Perhaps it was because of the dour atmosphere or the lingering pain brought about by memories she had been compelled to describe earlier, but she could not say for sure. She purposefully left out her sleepwear so that she could change after packing, still clinging onto the idea that Yang would arrive any minute. After her clothes went her books, those novels she had yet to impact in the slightest since she left Beacon as well as the journal that Yang had yet to find. She had read from time to time during the break, but found that the energy she spent paying attention to a book could be better invested in Yang or her teammates. Normally, reading had been an outlet for stress, but because this break had been relaxing for the most part, her drive to engross herself in literature was significantly decreased. She was reaching for her weapon when suddenly there was a rapping at the doorframe behind her. Believing that it was Yang, she asked, "Do you have everything you need packed?"

"Blake?" The voice did not come from the person she had anticipated. "May I come in?" The young Faunus turned to find her mother standing in the hallway, hands folded in front of her as she awaited her permission to enter. Blake did not dare look at what was lying on her bed, fearing that her mother would follow her gaze and see the disassembled weapon. However, Blake had not spoken to her mother since the morning and she seemed as though there was something she needed to talk about.

Blake hesitated due to the visible weapon but eventually permitted her entry. "Sure."

Lilian stepped across the invisible boundary into her daughter's room. She did not walk far, merely standing on the other side of the door before she said, "I apologize about what I put you through earlier. I should not have asked you the questions I did and I should have allowed you to tell your own story."

"It's fine," Blake sighed. "You didn't know—I don't think anyone would have." After the time she had to recuperate today, Blake had been able to recompose herself and had realized the error in immediately dismissing her mother's opinion. Like Weiss before, they all had their opinions on what the organization was, but none knew the effects that it had on the young Faunus.

Her mother shook her head and moved further into the room. "No, it is not fine. Blake, the change that you went through is tragic and I lack the perspective required to even begin empathizing with it. Perhaps it was good to speak of what happened immediately after you left, but I should not have asked about anything more." She sighed and walked forward. "Some memories are far too painful to ever see the light of day." Lilian moved beside the bed and surprisingly did not react to the weapon she had doubtlessly seen. She hesitated a moment before taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. "Come," she waved to Blake, "sit."

It seemed as though civility had been restored to the conversations Blake could have with her mother. She would admit that she was unsure of Lilian's motives, but she meant no harm and seemed only to offer potential peace between them. Blake nodded and moved to sit beside her mother, close enough that she could seem comfortable around her parent but distant enough to where she understood that there was still a divide between them. She didn't say anything and neither did her mother, the two choosing to simply stare at the carpeted floor as they each wondered what they could possibly say to the other. In this silence, Blake's mood grew paradoxically tenser and calmer—she knew that something important was going to be said at some point, but at the same time, she was glad that her mother was no longer treating her as though she was a stranger. Suddenly, her mother cleared her throat. "So," she began, surprisingly awkwardly for who she normally portrayed herself as, "Gambol Shroud?"

Those two words were able to instantly break the tension of the conversation and allowed Blake to smirk. "Honestly, I thought that nobody would get it."

Lilian emulated her daughter's expression. "Well, you always did enjoy your literary references."

Blake allowed herself a short laugh. "Would it surprise you if I said I own a copy of it now?"

"Yes, actually." Lilian raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a tad old for books about horses?"

"I've been that way for a few years." Blake shrugged. "Still, it helped when I was with the White Fang. It let me know where I came from and that I wasn't the same as all of them—it helped me remember that I was still a kid, not that anybody had a problem with telling me that themselves."

This led to another long pause in the conversation that was broken when Lilian turned her head to look at the many parts of Gambol Shroud. "So, this is your weapon?" After the calmness of their conversation thus far, Blake could not be surprised by her mother's lack of reprimanding for bringing a weapon into her house.

Blake turned as well, looking over the various parts and components that, when connected, comprised her sword. "More or less."

"And you created this yourself, correct?" Blake nodded. "And Yang's weapon, she said it was called Ember Celica?" Again, she nodded. "I can't say I understand the reference, but it is a nice name. What is it like, Ember Celica?"

"You've seen them before."

"Her bracelets? Has she been wearing them this entire time?" She seemed legitimately shocked, but not necessarily appalled.

"Gauntlets," Blake corrected. "Actually, they're more shotguns than anything, but if you would like to know more, I'd ask her. Yang loves to talk about the things she makes."

"Ah," her mother sounded, seeming appeased with the information. A few seconds passed between this before she asked, "And her necklace? Did you make that as well?"

Blake shook her head. "No, I bought it for her birthday."

A small smile came to Lilian's lips. "I'm sure it was a sweet gesture, but I believe you are lying to me." Blake turned to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion as to how she could have possibly known this. Her mother laughed quietly. "Blake, I may not have seen you for the past few years, but I am still your mother. You will always have the same tells—blinking right before you lie and your ears reacting when someone catches you." Blake frowned but did not feel remorse for her actions. In actuality, she felt a sort of amusement from having someone know her like this. Yang's knowledge and care for her was heartfelt and comforting, but her mother's was more disciplined and meticulous—strangely reminiscent of their respective personalities. "If you did not buy the necklace, then how did you acquire it?"

The decision of whether or not to tell the truth was the decision of whether or not to reveal a situation that still did not sit well in the young Faunus's mind. However, there was no harm in telling her since there would be no way to go back on the deal now that Yang had been given the jewelry. She sighed. "I helped Weiss Schnee with something that had been bothering her and the necklace was her showing me appreciation—it was a favor in return."

Her mother hummed. "So you truly have learned to accept help from others." This was said with an oddly remorseful tone, as though she was reminiscing about some time or place long forgotten to her.

Silence descended upon the mother and daughter, this pause in particular being longer than those prior even in a combined state. All conversation up to this point had been nothing more than small talk—idle chatter that Blake felt was inevitably leading to some significant point of discussion. There was something about her mother's calm demeanor in this moment, something that told the young Faunus that she was heavily conflicted but wanting to say why. Blake could not tell what it was nor would she ask about it, wanting to respect her mother's privacy. They would continue to sit in this rather awkward silence for a minute, both aware of the others' presence and apparent impatience. Blake was concerned about her partner potentially walking into her room at that moment, believing that if the blonde was to do so, she would either allow Lilian to believe something far less innocent than what had been intended or create a conflict between the two who had nearly shouted at each other in a public area.

Eventually, Lilian sighed. "Blake?" she asked. "About Yang." Blake looked to her mother, knowing that now was the time of her verdict on their relationship and thusly braced for the inevitable impact. "You are aware that my priority lies with ensuring the longevity of our family name, correct?" Blake solemnly nodded. "Then you understand why I had to give up my original name and take your father's. It is a name that I cherish and pride myself on, but because I could not retain the Ducoeur title, I feel as though I must defend the sanctity of our surname. Blake, your partner has no regard for her name and little apparent respect for her heritage. This does not mean that I would not trust her with our name—it is likely that she would readily accept it from what she has said—but it does mean that she would have more of an attachment to Rose than Belladonna. However, I can understand this and hopefully you can as well.

"Yet in my quest for our continuance, I must wonder how our line would be furthered. Neither of you would be able to bear a child and I know you are aware of this. At an individual level, the choice belongs to you alone. From a parental perspective, however, I must admit that I am worried. I understand that this is a subject you do not wish to be hearing at your age, but it must be touched upon.

"Finally, I must wonder if she would do our name honor—an archaic subject, I know, but it must be considered. She claims to be a descendant of hunters and will undoubtedly become one alongside yourself. However, I must question what deeds she may do for the world to increase our name's prestige." Lilian took a deep breath before continuing. "I am unsure if I have realized who she is as a person, but she seems to be a hero—or attempts to be one. It is an admirable personality and will allow for prestige to grow on her part, but at the same time, it is an inherently tragic personality. You and I know that fiction is not reality, but does reveal to us our flaws and sad truths. I fear for both of your sakes the day that Yang realizes her personality's only outcome."

Lilian sighed and looked down to her lap, bringing her daughter's gaze with her. Her thumb brushed gently and carefully across the golden band on her finger. "Blake," she began, "before I make my decision, I need to know one thing: do you love her?" Yes. "I do not mean the term thrown around by children of your age, but the heartfelt adherence to another person's existence. Do you understand the care that she fearlessly shows you and are you willing to give back the same sentiments in full?"

Yes. The decision could not have been more instant or final; Blake knew that she loved her partner and was loved back in kind. Yang was like no other she had met—kind, selfless, warm—and had proven herself more than capable in fighting against the past that so plagued the young Faunus. They were a cohesive unit; they built on each other's strengths and supplemented each other's weaknesses. Blake knew her partner's tells and Yang knew hers. She knew everything about the blonde except the memories that were to stay hidden for both of their protection. Simultaneously, Yang respected Blake despite the atrocities she had committed with the organization and only cared to ask about the memories if they were bothering the young Faunus in any way. Yang was her light in the darkness, her happy ending to a story that would always be bleak and tragic. "Yes," Blake answered, not a tone of doubt nor fear in her voice.

Lilian stopped her motions and smiled—not a small smile or a reserved smirk, but a happy smile. "Yang is a very good person. She has and will protect you in ways your father and I never could. She has proven herself to be more than capable of taking care of you on and off the battlefield, caring for you as your own person rather than who you were or what you could become. Finding someone like that is a rare occurrence in this world, especially for our kind, but what you found in Yang is something special that I found in your father far too late in my life." Tears began to well at the corners of her eyes, but did not fall as she was too focused on her speech to allow extraneous emotion to take precedence. "Blake, you are your own woman now and have made your own choices. I will not stand in your way between you and Yang."

Blake wanted to smile but could not with her mother in the state she appeared to be in. Instead of rejoicing in the acceptance of her relationship, Blake replicated an action learned from Yang and pulled her mother into a hug. Almost immediately, Lilian latched on and reciprocated the embrace. "Blake, no matter what happens or what has gone on, your father and I love you very much. All we ask is that you don't leave us in the shadows like you have over these years." She sniffled, alerting Blake to the otherwise unknown fact that she was now crying. "Just a call every so often would suffice—that is all we ask. We love you, Blake, and we don't want to miss any more of your life."

It took a great deal of effort to stay composed, but Blake felt as though she had to for her mother's sake. If she broke her strong, happy façade now, Lilian would likely begin to sob. Instead of crying, Blake simply smiled and assured, "Don't worry, I will." She closed her eyes and simply held onto her mother for what she believed would be one of the last times she could in her foreseeable future. "I love you too, mom."

Rain continued to plink off of the glass in the dark room, creating a calming, restorative rhythm that was concurrently sobering and reassuring. There would be no thunder nor would there be a storm, simply an overcast rain shower that would stretch far into the night. A northern wind blew down the mountains, through the trees of the forest around the house, and into the town, bringing with it the tides of change and the assurance of a greater future. This town was but a bittersweet memory to the Faunus. This was where she was born, where she was raised, where she learned to fight, where she had learned to forgive, to love, and to accept those whose faults controlled them but could never define them. This was not her home any longer, but Blake could think nothing but kind thoughts about it. This was Sierra.

---

I'm going to miss writing Blake's parents. They really did grow on me despite my initial hesitation in introducing them. I believe they were done well enough, got a fair amount accomplished, and allowed for the exposition of a great deal of information that is integral to the plot. Honestly, I find this departure from their characters to be a little saddening, but perhaps that is caused by having to write them and stress over their details for hundreds of hours—none of which I regret. No matter what, though, I feel as though their role in the story has been completed for the most part (Of course, there will be actions stemming from the events of this chapter and Blake did promise to call them every so often.). But like any trip, there is always a certain number of days after which tensions become high and people begin to get on each other's nerves. I believe that these three chapters have been the correct length and their sendoff turned out better than I expected.

Yet out of this sadness comes an inherent happiness. Because Blake and Yang are returning to Vale, Ruby and Weiss will reappear in the next chapter. I can assure you that they have not been stagnant while their teammates were away and the extent of their activities will be described both in the next chapter and in an eventual short story (more anon). I know a few of you may be excited for their return and, admittedly, I am as well. Perhaps writing the other two teammates will be therapeutic and will help me get over Blake's second departure from her parents.

If you thought that the show of emotion on Blake and Yang's parts during this chapter was sad or frustrating (or evocative of any sentiment, really), then I am happy to tell you that the best is yet to come. To avoid spoiling anything, I will not say much on the matter, but from the way the final two acts are plotted, the rest of the story may seem more "action-packed" compared to the first half of this novel. After all, the events of chapters one through nine were leading up to the events in these last three chapters. Now for the falling action.

Finally, I must remark upon the state of the White Rose short stories as well as another work I have created since this chapter and the last. The short stories are coming along well; in fact, I have begun writing the first of the five and I like how it is turning out. However, it will not be released in the near future because I would like to have a few of the stories completed before I submit them to Fanfiction. That way, there will be either two or three substantial stories worth of content to justify following or favoriting. Unfortunately, the short stories will not be released on as frequent a basis as Valence currently is (as if this rate is timely) because they are secondary in my writing priorities. My first priority is Valence. As for the other story referenced, I have written a Bumblebee one-shot titled NVG and it can be found on my Fanfiction profile under the "My Stories" tab. The story itself does not depend on the content of Valence, but it can be assumed that it takes place between Yang's invitation to Blake and the end of the school year. If you are feeling a bit down after this chapter, NVG is a short read that might help.

Once again, thank you for reading. Sometime between the posting of chapter eleven and the posting of this chapter, Valence passed 100 favorites and 150 followers. I still cannot get over the fact that you all like my story. When I began writing Valence, I thought that I was going to be booed out of the Fanfiction community because of the way I write, but you all proved me wrong in the best way possible. Though I have received my fair share of boos (with due cause, I suppose), the support shown for this story is consistently astonishing. Even though I have only talked to a few of you, those I have had the privilege to speak with have given what I believe is a fair representation of how amazing you all are—not only as readers who support a writer, but as wonderful individuals. I apologize if you have reviewed with the expectation of receiving a private message afterward and have not. If I have not messaged you, it does not mean I do not value your review (in fact, I reread all of them countless times), but that I do not have anything worthwhile to say or I fear that I would interrupt your day. No matter what, you are incredible people in my mind and I humbly thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Stay safe and stay tuned.