Chapter 2: Dawn Will Yield to the Dark
Blake let out a contented sigh as she reclined on the bed in the cabin she jointly owned with Yang. It was the perfect day to be hidden away on the outskirts of civilization. Despite it being late autumn in the northern clime of Atlas, the weather was pleasantly warm, and just the right amount of breeze was blowing in through the cabin's open windows. Blake could have easily drifted off into a lazy afternoon's nap, and perhaps she would.
Yang was lying on the bed as well next to Blake's side. Her arm slipped around Blake's stomach, and she cuddled in closer. A warm glow settled over Blake. She absolutely treasured being with Yang like this. There was something she found deeply intimate about the feeling of Yang's touch. She didn't have the words to describe the emotion except to say that it must be love.
Yang's arm tightened around Blake. She rolled onto her back and pulled Blake along until she was lying on top of Yang. Blake smiled to herself as she rested her head on Yang's shoulder, nestling in between Yang's chin and bosom. Yang knew this was how Blake was most comfortable. Blake was still upset she couldn't let Yang lie on top of her. It was a hangup she had from her past relationship with Adam, if that travesty could have been called a relationship. Fortunately, Adam was dead, and Yang was more than willing to accommodate Blake's needs. She accepted Blake for who she was. Blake still couldn't believe how lucky she was, especially considering Yang was a human.
Blake was already drifting off to sleep when she felt Yang's fingertip begin to lightly touch her cheek. She knew that Yang was tracing her scars. There were a dozen or so of them crisscrossing the left side of her face. They and the missing tip of her left cat-like ear were Adam's final gift to her. Yang had picked up the subconscious habit of tracing Blake's scars, and to Blake's shock, she found it comforting. She was very self-conscious about them, but Yang had always claimed to find them sexy. Blake wasn't sure she believed her, but this was Yang, a self-proclaimed princess of the infamous Branwen bandit tribe. Maybe she did find them sexy.
"Yang, I love you," Blake whispered.
"I love you too," Yang said.
Blake sighed happily, and she snuggled in even closer to Yang. After everything that had happened in her life, she never would have imagined that she could trust someone as fully and completely as she trusted Yang. And she also couldn't imagine that anything would ever change that.
Several hours later, the light of the day had faded. Blake was in the cabin's small kitchenette, washing the dishes from dinner. She was wearing her black crop top, black pants, and thigh-high boots, but she had forgone her white coat while she was busy cleaning up. Dinner had been a rabbit stew with the rabbit freshly caught courtesy of Yang. Blake knew a bit about how to hunt small game. It was one of the many skills she'd picked up during her time with the White Fang. But Yang's ability to transform into an eagle gave her a distinct advantage in that department. However, Blake wouldn't be satisfied unless she was also contributing to the household. To that end, she'd recently taken up gardening. She had a little patch of vegetables and herbs growing out in the back of the cabin, and she was finding tending to her garden to be surprisingly satisfying. After a lifetime of violence, it was soothing to help something grow.
Blake stuck the last dish in the drying rack and shut off the water. She dried her hands and turned around. The cabin had changed a lot since Weiss had helped Blake and Yang purchase it. The abandoned space had been fixed up and given some much-needed love. The first thing to go had been the walls separating the individual bedrooms. Now almost all of the cabin was one large living space. All the old and broken furniture was gone. In its place there was a single wooden table and set of chairs near the kitchenette, a sofa to lounge on by the cabin's largest window, and a new queen size bed that Blake and Yang had spent an embarrassing amount of time in if Blake really thought about it. The two of them had also started to decorate the cabin too. There wasn't much yet other than a throw rug and some curtains, but it was enough to make the place feel cozy.
Yang was off on the other side of the cabin, sweeping the floor. Her thick mane of blonde hair was in its customary braid that hung down to her waist, and the braid was swinging back and forth in time with Yang's broom. Blake's own hair wasn't quite as long as Yang's, but it was close. She'd considered cutting it short recently, but she'd decided she'd keep it long for now.
Yang had on her typical outfit, her orange crop top, brown jacket with rolled-up sleeves, tight-fitting black pants, brown motorcycle boots, fingerless gloves, and of course a red bandana tied just below her left knee. The bandana was a memento of Yang's late father and had his crest on it. Even though Yang had never known her father, the chance of finding him had been what had originally driven her to leave her tribe. And for that, Blake was eternally grateful to a man she would never meet.
Blake watched Yang sweep the broom back and forth across the floor. She couldn't help but smile. She didn't know why, but it melted her heart to see Yang being so domestic. Perhaps she took it as a sign that Yang was committed to this life they were building together. She wondered what the authorities back in Mistral might have thought if they could see the golden-haired bandit that had terrorized their kingdom for so long doing chores.
Blake's smile broadened as an idea came to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her scroll. She tapped at its screen a few times, and it started playing soft, slow music.
Yang turned her head and looked over at Blake.
Blake set her scroll down on the table and sauntered over to Yang. She took the broom from Yang and leaned it against the wall. Then she took Yang's hands. She guided one of them to the small of her back, and she held the other one out in a classic ballroom dancing pose.
Blake knew she couldn't dance very well, and Yang only knew how to dance club style. But Blake didn't care. No one was watching them anyway. She started swaying with Yang in a vague approximation of a waltz.
"What's got you feeling all romantic?" Yang asked, clearly happy to play along.
"Do I need a reason?" Blake asked.
"I guess not," Yang said.
Blake and Yang continued to twirl about the cabin, somehow managing to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Blake actually found it a little funny. In a fight, they both moved in perfect sync with one another like it was second nature to them. Maybe all they needed to do to become world-class dancers was to find a way to add an element of mortal danger.
A light blush colored Yang's cheeks. It prompted Blake to ask, "What are you thinking about?"
"Well. Maybe…" Yang said. "Maybe we should learn how to do this for real?"
"I didn't think that would be your kind of thing," Blake said.
"Not by myself," Yang admitted. "But with you…. You know…. Plus we could crash one of Weiss's fancy parties and act like the primmest, proper-est ladies around. Wouldn't that blow her socks off?"
Despite herself, Blake laughed at the thought. But then she said, "I'm not so sure Weiss would appreciate that. The last time we crashed one of her parties we were trying to kidnap her."
"I'm sure she's gotten over that by now," Yang said.
The song playing on Blake's scroll came to an end. With the spell it had been weaving broken, Blake and Yang stopped. Yang let go of Blake and shrunk away, suddenly looking bashful.
In never failed to surprise Blake that she could somehow make Yang of all people act embarrassed. She said, "If you're really serious about dance lessons, I'm sure there's plenty of teachers in Atlas."
Yang looked like she was considering it. She said, "Then how about the next time we're—"
Suddenly, Blake's cat-like ears twitched, and her eyes narrowed.
Yang picked up on Blake's body language instantly. A serious look crossed her face. Her voice dropped low, and she asked, "What is it?"
Blake's ears swiveled about. She was certain she'd heard something. She turned toward the front of the cabin. Outside the cabin's windows the last vestiges of daylight were just a dim glow on the horizon, but the gloom wasn't a hindrance to Blake's faunus eyesight. Even so, she didn't see anything out of the ordinary.
Blake stood absolutely still. Then she heard it again. The quiet sound of delicate footfalls was whispering through the cabin's open windows. Blake nodded in the direction of the front door.
Yang didn't say a word. She didn't need to. She walked over to a nightstand next to the bed. A sheathed sword and two yellow-colored bracers were sitting on it. Yang grabbed the sword and sheath, Wilt and Blush as they were called, and tossed them to Blake. Blake effortlessly snatched them out of the air and slid them smoothly into a loop on her belt. Next Yang grabbed the bracers and strapped them to her arms. They were named Ember and Blaze. Yang nodded at Blake, and Blake nodded back.
Blake's fingers curled around her sword's hilt, but she didn't draw Wilt just yet. She was doing her best to keep her emotions in check. She didn't feel nervous or scared; she felt angry. The world and its hatred had done so much to her, taken so much from her. And now it had the audacity to invade her only haven? She wouldn't stand for it.
Yang marched over to the cabin's door. She put her right hand on the doorknob and held up her left arm, leveling it at the door. Then she threw the door open and squeezed her left hand into a fist. A blade made out of solid yellow Dust popped out of her bracer.
A pair of surprised-looking eyes and a drawn rapier glinting in the fading light were all that Blake could see on the other side of the door at first, but then she saw the rest of the figure standing there. They were dressed in black and had jet-black skin and hair.
Blake suddenly realized who she was looking at. And when she saw that Yang was about to attack, she shouted, "No!"
Blake rushed over to Yang and put a hand on her girlfriend's raised arm. Yang glanced at Blake, looking annoyed, but she lowered her arm. Yang's blade eventually retracted back into her bracer, although there was a notable delay.
The figure outside had assumed a defensive posture and was holding their rapier at the ready.
Blake asked, "What are you doing here, Ilia?"
Ilia's coloration shifted until her hair was brown and her skin was pink again. She had a longing look on her face. She said, "Blake. I…."
Next to Blake, Yang crossed her arms. Blake could practically feel the anger rolling off of her. She supposed she couldn't exactly blame Yang. Ilia had blasted Yang through a wall the last time they'd met, even if Yang had ultimately won the resulting fight. There was also the fact that Ilia had openly confessed she was in love with Blake, something Blake was certain Yang hadn't forgotten.
"Ilia, you shouldn't have—" Blake started to say.
"We need your help!" Ilia blurted out. Then she turned her head away, and her spots briefly lit up a bright red. She softly added, "I need your help, Blake."
Blake glanced at Yang who just rolled her eyes. Blake sighed. She said, "You'd better come in."
Blake walked away from the door and back to the middle of the cabin. Ilia slid her rapier into her belt. Then she hesitantly stepped forward. She glanced at Yang who wasn't standing aside and who was only just giving her enough space to walk past into the cabin.
"Branwen," Ilia icily said in lieu of a greeting as she slid past Yang.
"Oh? We're using last names now?" Yang said. "I can do that too! Uh…."
"Amitola," Blake supplied.
"Amitola!" Yang said like it was the most biting comeback in the world.
"I'm not here for you, Branwen," Ilia said.
"Well too bad, lizard-girl," Yang said.
"Why you little—!" Ilia shouted. Her fists came up.
Blake interjected, "Both of you stop it!"
Yang and Ilia both turned to Blake. Yang looked like she was going to say something more, but a sharp look from Blake preemptively shut her up.
Blake rubbed her forehead in frustration. She calmly said, "Yang. Apologize."
"For what?" Yang asked.
Blake just glared at her. She knew Yang didn't have an ounce of bigotry in her. But that didn't mean she wasn't capable of saying some incredibly insensitive things, like disparaging Ilia's faunus heritage.
Eventually, Yang must have gotten the message, because she said, "Oh…."
Blake gestured for Yang to continue.
Yang looked at Ilia. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably before she said, "…sorry."
Blake had known Ilia practically all of her life. And she knew her well enough to see all the sarcastic quips that were lining themselves up on the tip of Ilia's tongue. Fortunately, Ilia had the good sense to respond with, "Apology accepted."
"Now that that's over with," Blake said. "Why are you here, Ilia?"
"The White Fang needs your help, Blake," Ilia said.
Blake frowned. She said, "I doubt the White Fang would accept my help. The last time I saw most of them—"
"Yeah. It was at the Creek Basin Mine attack. I know," Ilia interrupted. "But that was all Fennec's doing! The White Fang knows that. Your brothers and sisters know that! And with Fennec in jail, he's not a problem anymore."
"And what about Sienna?" Blake asked. "She made her feelings about me very clear."
"Sienna…" Ilia said. "She's the problem."
Blake was a little taken aback. She asked, "What do you mean?"
"She's gone crazy since you left!" Ilia said. "I guess you were the only one who could talk her down off a cliff. She keeps ranting about how some big battle is coming and how all the humans are going to get what's coming to them."
"Is she planning an attack?" Blake asked, alarmed. "The White Fang doesn't have the numbers for that anymore!"
"I know!" Ilia said. The fear was plain to see on her face. "She's going to get us all killed!"
Blake's cat-like ears were tilted sharply, pointing toward the sides of her head, and a nauseating feeling was bubbling up in the pit of her stomach. She asked, "What do you expect me to do about it?"
"You were Sienna's lieutenant! You have to…!" Ilia paused. Then she spoke more calmly. "You have to at least talk to her. I don't think anyone else can get through to her and make her see reason."
Blake's head lowered. The ground beneath her feet suddenly felt unsteady. She turned her back to Ilia.
"Blake?" Ilia asked.
"Do you still have the same scroll?" Blake asked without turning around.
"Yes," Ilia said.
"I'll think about it and let you know," Blake said.
"But…!" Ilia said. Then she trailed off.
Yang gave Ilia the side-eye. She curtly said, "You should go."
"Please don't give up on us, Blake," Ilia said. "We're still important. Remnant still needs us."
Blake didn't respond.
Ilia was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Don't wait too long to make up your mind. If you do, there might not be a White Fang left to save."
Blake heard Ilia's footsteps as she walked away. Then Blake heard the cabin's front door close. She waited a minute more to make sure Ilia really was gone. Then she stumbled over to the nearest wall and put her hand on it to steady herself. She was so upset that she felt woozy.
Yang was right behind Blake in an instant. She put her arms around Blake, and Blake readily leaned into her for support.
"You should've let me fight her," Yang said.
Blake didn't reply to Yang. She hadn't even really heard her. She had so many conflicting emotions inside of her that it was ridiculous. By all rights she felt she should leave the White Fang to its fate. But there were still good faunus among its ranks, faunus who Blake knew personally. Could she really allow them to be destroyed by Sienna's madness?
"Blake?" Yang asked, sounding concerned.
"This might be my fault," Blake said.
"What!? No it's not!" Yang said.
"Sienna's been betrayed three times," Blake said. "First by Adam. Then by Fennec. Then by me. It's enough to make anyone go crazy."
Yang suddenly spun Blake around and thrust a finger in her face. She said, "This is not your fault!"
Blake scrambled backward a few steps, fighting off panic induced by Yang's well-meaning but nonetheless aggressive reassurance.
The look on Yang's face told Blake that she immediately knew she'd made a mistake. She mumbled, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Blake said, quietly cursing Adam for the power he still held over her.
"Look, Blake," Yang said. "I don't know anything about this White Fang stuff. But if it was me, and my mom suddenly popped out of a portal and asked me to save my old tribe, I would…. Well, I don't know what I'd do."
"I know what you'd do," Blake said. "And…I know what I need to do."
Yang pressed her lips together. She flatly said, "You're going to help them."
"I have to try," Blake said.
Author's Note: I've decided to keep Yang and Blake in their Volume 4-6 outfits for now. First of all, they were the best. But second of all, they only just got them at the end of the last story. No need to move on just yet.
And now for a bit of trivia. I almost described Wilt as a katana when drafting this chapter, which is just wrong. It's a chokutō. Always remember kids, when in doubt just call it a "sword".
As always, I welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to leave a review. And if you like what you've read, taking the time to favorite and/or follow really helps me out. You can also find me on tumblr (electronicyarn) if you want to send me a message or be notified of updates.