Qrow chopped silently.
Blake followed marginally less silently.
"How… Why do you… When did…"
Blake hadn't successfully formed a single one of the questions hacking away at her mind for the past… however long it'd been since Qrow said all that.
"But she's… That isn't even… What?"
Qrow didn't turn towards her. If anything, he just cut quicker. Blake had to jog to keep up with him.
"You can't be serious! You don't… There's no way you could've known her!"
The Huntsman kept hacking. Blake kept chasing him with fruitless questions and even less fruitful accusations.
"You… My mom is… And Aelia—"
Qrow kept cutting, but finally shot her a look over his shoulder, one that begged her to shut up.
She wasn't planning to comply until she heard more voices— ones upon which they had suddenly encroached upon with how close they sounded. Blake held her breath and listened to the incredulous conversation:
"You're— you're telling me this now? I don't— I— how the hell am I supposed to respond to that! How do I even— what is that supposed to mean!"
Blake smacked a hand over her chest, digging her nails into the skin so she could focus on rejecting her instinctive response, which was to cry Yang's name and throw herself bodily upon her— punching the idiot, obviously, because she'd left Blake alone with the most unbearable half of their new group. Instead, she and Qrow remained silent and listened.
"So… what, that's how you shifted? You were just lying?"
"No!"
Blake cringed. The princess' voice didn't have a pleasant reunion with her ears.
"No, you… no! I'm not bloody lying! I— it wasn't just the once, okay? The second time was with Valerius."
"Ha! Haha!"
"Be silent, you child! Not like that!"
Blake found herself pushing past a frozen Qrow, shredding through vines as her feet carried her towards that honking laugh. Such a stupid sound, Blake wanted nothing more than to fling a big glob of Forever Fall dirt into that crooked, big-toothed smile. She'd love to watch that idiot hork down a handful of mud.
"Stop bloody laughing!" came another shrill command from Weiss. "You're supposed to be— argh! Mad! Chastising! Threatening me!"
To the long and sensitive ears of Blake's birthright, Yang's shrug was audible. "Why? Why should I? Because you saw something strange and acted strangely in response, all while you were thoroughly addled? It's clear you've realized your grim omens aren't something to follow."
"But I hurt your uncle! And your lover! And I'm destined to hurt Ruby!"
"Bollocks to destiny," Yang proudly declared. "And Blake is not my lover."
Blake scratched hard at her chest so she could explain what was hurting. Whether she liked it or not, her dagger kept sawing away. She vaguely registered Qrow's footsteps in the back of her mind.
"Look, I see no point in being actively hostile towards you, Weiss— even if you need to keep your fucking hands to yourself when I'm around." Yang affected the tone of a back-alley stabbing for that last bit, but continued as if she hadn't. "Whatever you and Ruby have, I'm not party to it, so long as my sister's happy and you're happy."
Blake stopped sawing at that last part, and it seemed the question frothing in her brain was the same on Weiss' lips: "Me? Why do you care about me?"
"Because Ruby can treat a lady right— at least, she should— and if she can't, then her character is wholly different from the girl I've known my whole life. Just by virtue of being who she is, she should be good to you. If not, come to me."
Blake was dumbstruck at the genuine admiration piping out of Yang's sonorous voice. It actually made her stomach twist a little, though she couldn't tell why. She went back to cutting.
"But thank you for warning me— telling me, I suppose, since you're not intent on continuing your drawn-out suicide plot."
Silence. Thick silence.
"Right," came Weiss' answer after an eternity, sounding not at all sure. "Of course not."
"Could you say that again, but less like you're obviously lying?"
Weiss didn't answer.
"Oh, please don't tell me you're—"
Yang's voice stopped, and the sudden absence of sound spooked Blake's hand into halting. She remained rigid, waiting for whatever Yang or Weiss was going to say, or for whatever they'd do to shatter the tension.
When Blake heard rapid footsteps closer than she'd expected, she jolted, having become far too engrossed to pay proper attention to her surroundings. Blake turned, expecting Qrow's approach, only to find him trailing behind just as many feet as the last time she'd checked. His face was different, though. He was holding something smugly anticipatory— a smirk— with his cinnabar eyes watching a point just behind Blake.
Blake whirled again, and she was sprayed by pink.
Yang Xiao Long tore bare handfuls of Aeternum Autumni vines as if they were parchment, squirting huge gouts of sap-tinged fluid across them both as she burst through the newly-fashioned hole. Blake jumped back with the instinct of prey being pounced, but Yang's pursuit was ravenous. The Huntress snatched one fay wrist, her other hand took that same forearm, and both yanked Blake into a pair of thick-set arms that seemed to be making a sincere attempt at liquefying her spine.
"Sweet— fucking— Watcher— Stars— fuck!" Blake struggled, wheezing, "Yang— you cock— you're—"
In a dazzling move expected only in ballroom halls, Yang cupped the back of Blake's neck, dipped her low, and kissed her fully.
Blake's brain lapsed, but her body acted. Her arms threw themselves around the blonde's neck, her mouth moved furiously against Yang's, and her throat released a long, elkish keen.
Yang separated their mouths with a wet, gasping pop, and somehow was not at all breathless like Blake was. "I thought I smelled you."
Awful. Repugnant. Terrible, disgusting, unattractive, bad.
Blake should have slapped her for that, or cringed into a singularity, or vomited on the spot, but instead it… worked. Crook and cane, it worked, and Blake's stupid idiot heart skipped a beat as if to throw a weight off itself, leaving her chest feeling light and whole.
"Blake?" Weiss called, loudly and unhelpfully announcing the obvious from the sidelines. "Blake!"
Blake found Weiss running to her just like Yang probably had, looking suspiciously like she was going to hug the fay before she stopped herself. Instead, she merely placed a hand on Blake's arm.
Weiss' eyes buzzed a little, jittering left and right while her voice slightly chattered, "Blake, I'm…"
Blake could hear the royal girl's teeth clacking together in her mouth. She was flushed, her forehead was visibly covered in sweat, her glowing snow-white pallor turned a dun pale like spoiled milk; she did not look well, and her voice had a new, odd quality— almost a lisp, as if her tongue wasn't right in her mouth.
"I'm so sorry," Weiss desperately apologized, now gripping the fay in both hands. "I— I— I'm sorry, I'm— Blake, I—"
Blake pitied the girl, so she slapped her across the face. "Get a hold of yourself," Blake commanded. "I don't blame you; it's not your fault you stabbed me, it's that dickhead's."
Blake jerked a thumb in Qrow's direction, somewhere behind her. Weiss made no comment on being struck.
"Uh, sorry," Qrow said unsurely. "I didn't know how much to give."
Blake snorted— he still didn't know, judging by the shake persisting in his voice. If he had waking hallucinations of her mother, she didn't even want to imagine what he was seeing now.
Weiss looked in his direction like Qrow was a ghost. She went to him cautiously, then took a deep, formal bow. When Blake noticed her balance stutter, she pitied the girl twice as much.
"Ser Qrow," Weiss said, keeping her bow firmly parallel to the ground. "My s-sincerest apologies. I couldn't… controlmyself."
Qrow went distant again, but this time he didn't reveal that he'd been sleeping with Weiss' mother (or however he knew Cali). "Weiss, uh…" he looked around awkwardly, as if Yang or Blake would help. Neither of them did, nor did they want to. "Don't… don't worry about it. I've been through worse."
Weiss rose, meeting his eyes. Her voice and his had the same vibrating quiver. "Are you sure?"
Qrow stared at her, and his pink-misted eyes went distant and foggy. He absently raised a hand, placing it on Weiss' head to gently ruffle her hair. "Of course," Qrow softly insisted. "I forgive you."
Weiss looked upon Qrow like he was an envoy of the Shepherd herself. He did not move his hand, but he did give the girl a tiny smile. Yang and Blake watched the exchange, looked at each other, and shared a supremely mystified look.
Weiss stared up at Qrow, completely awestruck with glassy eyes and a quivering lip. She looked like she would cry, and when Qrow gently told her "It's okay," she did cry. She bawled like a child whose dolls had been taken away.
Qrow, surprisingly, looked no better. Even if they were pinked with sap, Yang and Blake could easily see how teary his eyes were, but the Huntsman just tipped his head back and breathed deep like he could suck the emotions in. His distant look shifted towards a tentative smile that grew when the noblette threw her thin arms around his waist.
Blake stared at the childless Huntsman, then moved her stare to the disowned heiress, then back to the Huntsman, then back to the heiress. Yang was doing the same in reverse.
"Are you seeing this?" Yang asked her.
They were stillhugging. It was weird.
"Yeah, I think," Blake confirmed, engrossed. "It's… cute?"
A/N: BIRD DAD BIRD DAD BIRD DAD BIRD DAD
also Yang is the only person currently un-stabbed by Weiss