A bell loudly chimed. Shouts rose. Blake bolted.

Ruby rushed to catch up with her as she hurtled towards the trio that had been eyeing them. Two raised their shields in front of their longsword-wielding comrade, but Blake leapt over their heads with inhuman ease, throwing herself at the other man's sword. Her cloak flew open and her hands shot out, and a pair of knives thumped directly into the man's face and made his Aura flare— a sign that it would break soon. Blake landed in a controlled skid, her pair of leaf-bladed daggers locking the man's long blade against their curving quillons.

The two shield-bearers half-turned to help their friend, then wavered between that and facing Ruby, who was upon them before they could decide— and that indecision cost them dearly. As they turned in unison, Ruby's hulking iron blade struck one of the shields edge-on, shearing cleanly through it and sending its wielder tumbling with a bleeding forearm and a flaring Aura. The momentum of her cleaver carried straight into the next boy's shield, but his fared considerably better. That's not to say that it fared well, though, as the unwieldy cleaver still dug into its center and ripped a splintered gash across its face, but at least it was intact.

Ruby fought against the cleaver's momentum, muscles straining as she forced the iron wedge to come to a halt. This left her open, and she suddenly felt herself being slammed backwards by a broad, splintered shield. She stumbled back, her Aura absorbing most of the hit, and immediately let her cleaver clatter to the ground. She wouldn't have another opportunity to catch them unawares, so she resorted to the multitude of weapons at her hips.

A quick inventory immediately flashed in her mind— a constant catalog she kept of her on-hand equipment: two shortswords, a slightly longer falchion, and a handax, with one steel knife and one iron knife sheathed above her rear. Her smithing hammer sat in a ring at the front-left of her belt, where Ol' Lucy (her war hammer) would've been if she'd had time to give her a new handle.

She could see the boy moving to take advantage of her state of disarmament, shortsword above his head and a cry ripping out of his throat. His shield was to his side, giving him more range to swing down at the cost of leaving him wide open, which Ruby planned to take advantage of. She had a plan, and the sword was falling.

Weiss watched with rapt interest as the boy's cloak flew open, revealing his front-tying linen shirt and baggy black breeches, with the former handsomely tucked into the latter, which in turn was tucked into narrow, turned boots of dark leather. Weiss could also see the belt at his waist, which bristled with a seemingly impractical amount of weapons. She watched his left hand fly to the broad hammer at the front— which looked more like a tool than a weapon— while his right hand yanked free a fullered shortsword with a v-shaped crossguard.

The hammer flew straight up, thrusting its wide metal top directly into the edge of the incoming shortsword. Weiss winced as the sword visibly deformed around the point of impact. The sword's wielder hissed as the awful reverberation rattled his hand, even making him drop the shortsword. When he realized his mistake, it was too late, as his opponent quickly swept his Aura with his shortsword, making it flare and quiver before the hammer followed, shattering the shielding shroud and cracking into the side of his head. He crumpled to the floor.

Ruby could see the boy's partner groaning as he lifted himself to his feet, so she threw her hammer at him. He tried to lift his shield, apparently forgetting that she had cleft the board beyond the point of usefulness. The hammer struck him in the face. He fell limp.

She was beginning to feel… a rush, a sensation of hot power coursing through her veins. She felt her hands shaking, not out of fear, but with unbridled energy, something she'd never felt before. She'd never felt this way training with Yang or even Qrow, but that was different, more like disciplined play than anything else. When that boy's sword was coming down, straight for her head, and she'd instantly, instinctually concocted the plan to smash it away with her hammer— there was nothing like it. Her heart was smashing against her ribs. Her pulse was in her ears. She looked down at her shaking hands. This is what Tai had been keeping her from? Anger swelled in her chest.

"Red!" Someone shouted her way, the voice coming through gritted teeth. It was Blake, locking her opponent's longsword between her daggers' crossguards and leaving him wide open.

Ruby sprinted to her hammer, scooping it back into her left hand before rushing the man with a confident smirk. Her hammer arced from the side, a heavy blow aimed straight for his head.

His eyes snapped to her just before her hammer could land. He ducked low, easily dodging the blunt weapon as he slid back and pulled his sword from Blake's clutches. Unfortunately for Blake, it was all happening too quickly for Ruby to stop the hammer, which was now on a collision course for the girl's thoroughly bandaged face. It struck her hard, making her reel as her Aura flashed.

Ruby immediately felt all that surging power evacuate her body, replaced by intense guilt.

Weiss watched the boy she'd taken a reluctant interest in, wincing again as his opponent ducked under his hammer. He struck his partner directly in the face, and Weiss could actually see the moment his confidence was replaced with guilt, as he dropped his hammer and reached a hand out to his friend, only for the one with the longsword to come lunging straight for him. The sword's tip made his Aura flash, and he was too shocked to recover before another thrust made the shielding energy flare. A third strike, this time a horizontal slash from high and left, whipped across his face.

Weiss gasped as the longsword pushed his hood against his face, slicing through both as it drew a red line from the boy's ear to the tip of his nose. Weiss suddenly felt ill, and had to fight tooth-and-nail to keep bile from surging past her lips.

Ruby stumbled back, a sudden hollowness sitting in her chest and behind her face. She'd been cut. His sword had dragged its edge from her ear to her nose— she had seen her own eye reflected in the blade. She'd felt her Aura flee her, then the stinging burn slicing through her skin. She'd never been cut before. All the days of training, and they'd never hurt her. They'd… coddled her. This is what Tai had been keeping her from. Pain.

But Ruby had been hurt before. She thought hard of that day at the forge, the day she'd made a foolish mistake and smashed her right hand nearly to pulp, she remembered her scream filling the shop, the months of recovery— even after her Aura repaired her flesh and bones. She remembered the furnace, the day she pulled a glowing red bar from its mouth, only for it to slip through the tongs, then land flat on her thigh. The feeling of heat, the scent of burning cloth, then burning flesh, then the white-hot pain. It had been the first and last time she forwent her apron.

Her face burned with sharp pain, but it wasn't the worst she'd been burned. She had been through worse, and she would go through worse, but that was just the price of the life that she would choose. Blood dripped down her face, trickling over her lips. Iron spread across her tongue. The swordsman lunged forward again, coming down with finality. His sword was red with her blood. Blessed heat pulsed in her veins again— she had a plan.

Before she could execute anything, though, a pair of knives struck the man's head. The first bounced off as his Aura flared and wavered, but the second one cut across his scalp, making him reel. Before he could react, Blake's boot came flying into the side of his head. He fell, sprawled across the tourney field.

Blake was in front of Ruby suddenly, concerned amber eyes staring into silver. "Red!" She slapped her uninjured cheek, making her blink. "Shepherd's crook— are you okay?"

Ruby's hand went to the bleeding gash across her face. Her Aura would resurge soon, she knew, but she doubted she'd be able to give it enough time to do more besides close the wound. Her face would be marked forever. Nobody would court a slashed face like hers, but… she didn't care. She was smith, anyway! Nobody would court a lady who was covered in soot and ash and sweat! Her bloodied fingers closed into a fist. This would be proof. She could leave now, show Tai her scar, show him what she had endured.

But… she didn't want to leave. As she looked around the tourney field, she felt her mind working, excitement bubbling up in her chest. Every fighter she laid eyes on sparked a new strategy in her mind. Every weapon inspired a counter. The din of combat, she realized, was quieter than her forge.

Her eyes went to the stands. Weiss was watching.

Ruby wouldn't disappoint.

AN: really fun to write these fights. also, deciding against giving Ruby pluderhosen was the greatest internal battle I've ever fought