The Grimm Lands Chapter 16
Hunting Ground Part 4: Fractures
Eight Years Ago
It was perfect. It had taken most of the morning and almost all of her crayons, but Weiss had finally finished her masterpiece. It was supposed to be a big family portrait, all of her family in one place. Sure, Whitley's head was a little wonky, and Winter was a bit too round, but the thought was what mattered.
Weiss held the picture up high admiring all her dedication. The problem now was trying to find someone to give it to. She hurried as fast as her small feet could go, searching room to room in the Schnee manor. Yet no matter how high or low she couldn't find sight of anyone.
Whitley was in the middle of piano practice and Weiss knew better than to interfere. Father was very serious when it came to their teachers and tutors, any misbehavior would not be tolerated. It meant having to find a way around the main foyer, but Weiss was quick and daring. A small detour through the garden and a turn past the kitchen led Weiss across the training grounds. It was an empty platform surrounded by meticulously tended shrubbery. At this time of day, she was sure to find her sister dutifully carrying out her practice, yet Winter was nowhere to be found. Weiss would have lingered a moment longer, but she had an important job to do.
She scurried back inside, up the grand staircase and past the towering, looming portrait of her late Grandfather. She stopped and glanced up toward his well-groomed face. His strong features were pronounced and the noble gleaming armor adorning his figure was a far cry from the weak and feeble image Weiss remembered of the last time she had seen him.
She missed him something fierce. Her grandfather had always doted on her despite his weakened and frail body. He was the glue that had held the Schnee's together, his calming presence and kind heart had always been a source of inspiration. He had been a hero all across Remnant, her mother used to tell her; the shining leader who helped guide the world toward prosperity after the horrors of the Great War.
Weiss could still remember his funeral. It was the last time her family had been in one place together. It had been a dark, cold day. Her mother had cried of course; Weiss had cried too. There had been so many people from all over Remnant who came to offer their thoughts and prayers. Weiss shook her head, trying to forget the painful memories welling up inside.
"Sorry Grandpa, I can't stay and talk today. I have a present to deliver," She held the drawing up high, hoping that wherever Grandfather went he would be able to see all her hard work. It stung just a little that he couldn't pat her on the head as he always had, with that big warm smile.
She gave a respectable curtsy to her grandfather's portrait and took off up the next flight of stairs. The Maid staff tried to catch her as she ran past, but with all the grace of a one-day Huntress, she ducked and weaved passed them. She spun out of the way of a helper she nearly collided with as she rounded a corner.
The Schnee manor was large, but Weiss had memorized every corner. Months of long adventures by herself, exploring and scouring every inch of her home had given her an opportunity to memorize everything. She thought it would be important if she was ever able to bring home some friends from school. It hadn't happened yet, but she would be prepared when it did.
Her daring journey came to a halt outside the large, heavy oak doors of her father's study. She hesitated for the first time. She knew she wasn't allowed in her father's study, and she almost reconsidered her plan entirely before she heard the voices yelling inside. It was muffled due to the doors but there was no mistaking Winter's voice.
Curiosity outweighed her hesitation, Weiss gripped one of the golden doors handles in her small hands and pulled with all her might. The door slowly swung open, and she took a careful step inside.
"You stubborn, deadbeat father!" Winter roared. Dressed in her Atlas school uniform, Winter's snowy hair flew about her face as she slammed her hands down upon their father's massive desk. Jaque Schnee didn't even flinch as his steely eyes glowered angrily at his daughter.
"I will caution you only once to remember yourself."
Weiss had never been fond of her father's office. Large personal portraits covered the walls and the expensive furniture looked picturesque and lifeless. Large wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with books and journals. There were no personal items, no toys, or nick-nacks. Even her father's desk was devoid of any images of his own wife or children.
"I refuse!" Winter shouted. "You have no claim over what I do after graduation. I won't simply sit by and be your political puppet."
"You will do as you're told. A child should listen to their parents."
"Oh, so now you're a parent? When you demand something from me?"
Winter didn't flinch when their father rose, and she didn't back away when he slapped her across the cheek. If anything, her older sister kept that same defiance that Weiss had always admired.
"You'll mind your tongue," their father scolded.
Weiss never liked seeing him angry. When he was angry their mother would always hide away, and the family would scatter. She didn't like it when the family couldn't be together. However, once her father began one of his rages, the best thing to do was simply wait it out.
"Or what? You'll hit me again?" Winter barked with anything but patience, the red welt blooming on her cheek.
"I am your father, and you shall not disrespect me in my own home!"
"Our home."
Their father ignored her comment before sitting himself back down in his chair. Jacques Schnee was a tall imposing man with pure white hair and a well-groomed mustache. His features were taut but handsome and he had a presence that dominated every room he came into. He always had a grudging, almost condescending look but at that moment he looked tired and frustrated. "This isn't a negotiation. You will enroll in Atlas Institute upon graduation. I have already secured a position as a part-time intern for one of the directors of the SDC. I expect you to be the dutiful daughter you are and uphold your responsibility to this family."
"I refuse! I already signed the paperwork to join the Atlas military upon my graduation from the Academy, with the express approval of Headmaster Ironwood," Winter said.
"Ironwood?" Jacques spat out the name with venom. "Is he trying to poach my heir? And you simply decided that you would enlist without my approval. Must I remind you that you are a minor? You have no say in the matter unless I or your mother give our explicit approval."
"I understand that, sir." Weiss didn't like it when Winter started using honorifics. It gave weight to her fears that the family was drifting apart. "However, when you enrolled me in the Academy, I took it upon myself to go through the proper channels and have a contractual agreement with the Academy. I no longer need your or mother's approval for anything. For once I can decide for myself what I want to do."
"So, you're abandoning the Schnee name? Throwing away everything I have offered you? You would disregard your birthright, your family?"
"I'm not abandoning this sham of a family, sir. I am abandoning you. Once I graduate, I will no longer be your prized negotiation tool. I will leave and create my own path."
"You're leaving?" Weiss cried. Her father and sister turned to her in surprise, but Weiss was already on the move. She slammed herself into her sister's side and clung tightly to Winter's gray skirt. "Why are you leaving?"
"Why are you here?" Her father demanded. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I told you to never enter my office."
"But I-" Weiss started.
"No excuses," Jacques barked.
Weiss flinched and burrowed herself closer to her sister. Winter crouched down and placed a comforting hand around Weiss's shoulders, rubbing small comforting circles into her back.
"It's ok Weiss. Remember, proper ladies don't cower, do they?"
Weiss shook her head, refusing to meet her sister's eyes. She wouldn't let Winter see the tears or the fear clouding her eyes. It took a moment, but Weiss managed to gain control of herself. With a sniffle, she rubbed her eyes clear and raised her head high and back straight, just like a proper noble lady.
"Now, why did you come in here?" Winter asked.
With a start, Weiss realized the paper she had been carrying was gone. She looked around frantically. Winter, ever the calmer of the two took a few long strides over to the doorway and picked up the fallen drawing Weiss had lost in her panic.
"Is this yours?" Winter asked, watching as Weiss nodded. "I'm impressed, you've really improved."
The praise made Weiss swell with just a little more pride and she smiled softly as she clutched the drawing close to her chest. She took a few tentative steps towards her father and slid the drawing over the top of his desk.
Jacques Schnee looked at it for a long, hard moment before he brushed it aside. "If you have time for such trivialities then perhaps, I have been too lenient with you. Both of you, out. Now. It seems I have things to reconsider."
Weiss tried not to let the hurt show on her face as the picture she had spent the better part of the morning creating was shoved back toward her. She did her best to remember to properly thank her father and curtsy before leaving. She held back her few errant tears as she stepped out of the office doors and heard them slam shut behind her.
She held up the image of a proper lady just long enough for Winter to brush past her with a soft farewell and a gentle pat on the head. "Are you leaving us?"
Winter stopped. She didn't turn around as she spoke. "Yeah… I am."
"But why? I know Father is a little mean, and Momma isn't always around, but what about Whitley and I?" If Winter left, then who would be there for them both? "If you go then we won't be a family anymore!"
"That's not true Weiss. We'll always be family, ok? I'm just leaving for a little while. That doesn't mean that I don't still love you." Winter still hadn't turned around.
"Liar!" Weiss yelled. "Families stay together. Families talk to each other. I don't want you to go."
"You're too young to understand Weiss. You'll figure it out when you're a little older," Winter started to walk away. Weiss wanted to say more, to stop her, but there was nothing she could do as her sister went farther and farther away.
"No, wait," Weiss said softly, suddenly afraid that it had been her fault. The terror that she had just pushed her sister away was paralyzing. "I'm sorry, please don't go."
But Winter had already rounded the corner, she was gone, and Weiss was all alone. The drawing she had held onto slipped from her fingers and onto the floor like the trash that it was. Weiss refused to break down. She refused to sully her pride as a proper lady any further. So, rather she simply slid down against the wall and held back the torrent of emotions that had overtaken her. She wanted her mother, but at this point in the day she would be well into her fifth or sixth drink and Weiss never liked to see her mother when she was drunk. That wasn't her mother at that point, just someone who looked like her.
Klein found her sometime later. The aging Schnee butler was a kindly, portly man with a great big bushy mustache that he often teased that Weiss used to play and tug at when she was just a baby. Weiss denied she would ever do such a thing. It was totally inelegant and improper of course, not to mention unbearably embarrassing.
"And what are we up to today, Miss Schnee?"
"Nothing," Weiss said. Klein was as much a member of her family as anyone, but she wouldn't dare try and involve him in her own personal problem. She wiped her face clean of the tears, though her puffy eyes gave her away immediately. "I was just heading to my singing lessons?"
"Already? Forgive me for questioning you, but isn't it a bit early Miss?" Klein asked. It certainly was early for her private lessons.
"It is important to always be early for every arrangement." Weiss had always heard her private tutors repeat that lesson, hammering it in every day.
"Ah of course," Klein agreed, and Weiss saw that glimmer of mischief in his warm brown eyes as they shifted to yellow. "Always so punctual. Yet I am disheartened that you've forgotten our own arrangement."
Weiss frowned. She had no plans with Klein today. The kindly man bent to pick up her fallen drawing with great tenderness before smoothing out the wrinkles caused by Weiss' outrage earlier.
"If I recall a few days ago you made a promise to Missus for tea and biscuits. She has been so very much looking forward to it."
Weiss almost let out an audible groan. Her promise to meet with Klein's wife had completely slipped her mind. The woman was a warm bundle of kindness and love who Weiss adored, but between lessons, and school, along with a series of formal functions her father demanded she attend, the promise had been unfulfilled. She almost apologized, but her father had always said a Schnee must never be the one to admit to a wrong. "Why of course, I simply have been trying to find the best time to come see her."
Weiss hated the knowing smile dancing on Klein's lips. "But of course, Miss. Would now be a prudent time, or will your…I'm sorry which tutor were you meeting with today?"
She had been caught! She knew that Klein knew, the unmistakable glint in his eyes was proof enough. "It's no matter. I am sure I could postpone it for one day."
"You would be willing to play hooky? I must say that's not very proper for a noble lady Miss."
Weiss bit back a pout. He was teasing her. "It would be even more improper to keep a dear…" The word choked on her lips, "Friend waiting. Besides, I want to see the baby. Onward Klein, no more stalling."
He gave her that same warm smile and this time Weiss was more than willing to share it.
Hertz Sieben was a pudgy woman with a warm smile and kindly blue eyes. She had served as the Schnee family's nanny for years. The kindly woman was always eager to share embarrassing baby stories of Weiss with the other manor staff and any guests who would listen. It embarrassed Weiss to no end. No one should have to be subjected to such embarrassing conversation. Despite constant attempts to avoid the woman out of fear of embarrassment Weiss always found herself coming back to her whenever in need of advice or comfort.
Ever since Nicholas Schnee, her grandfather, had passed, Klein and his wife were the only real source of warmth Weiss had. Winter was often too busy with school or training to pay much attention to her siblings and Whitley was much too preoccupied with his studies. At least once a week Weiss would stop by the Sieben's small cottage just on the outskirts of the Schnee residence for a warm cup of tea and homemade baked goods.
The cottage had been built by her grandfather for the couple after years of dedicated service. Nicholas Schnee always supported rewarding loyalty and kindness. The cottage was small, just large enough to comfortably house two. A well-tended vegetable garden sat just outside the front window. The weathered wooden structure was a bit rugged but had an unmistakable feeling of real home. It was cozy and warm, with a tight kind of crampedness that made Weiss feel invited and welcomed, unlike the Schnee manor which was much too large and sterile.
They had barely entered through the rickety old oak door before Weiss found herself smothered in a tight hug.
"Oh, it's always a delight when you decide to visit. I was so certain you had forgotten," Hertz chuckled.
"I would never do such a thing. A Schnee is only as good as their word." She cast a warning glance at Klein who simply gave a wink. Weiss relaxed as she was pulled towards a dinner table. The cottage was a terribly small thing with only an open space combining the living room and kitchen. The bedroom was the only separate room in the small house but neither of the two residents ever made any fuss about it. Weiss sat down in her favorite chair at the table. A hand traced over the markings she had carved into the frame with a fork years ago. The thought of doing such a thing now seemed downright scandalous but she had too many fond memories in this small space to really care.
"Well, I will have you know that I just so happened to be baking apple pie. You are more than welcome to a slice if you'd like," Hertz chimed from the stove.
Weiss had no secret love of apple pie and the woman's special recipe was without question her favorite. It was always a delight when she made it, often it was a surprise for Weiss's birthdays and other major events. Usually, after all of her family had concluded their pleasantries and retreated to their own corners of the mansion, Klein would drop by with a freshly baked pie just for Weiss. Many birthdays she had spent in this very cottage late at night stuffing her face and laughing.
Weiss hurried to help the woman as Hertz struggled to bend down. The Sieben's were finally expecting. It only seemed fitting to Weiss that after years of dedicated, heartfelt care for the Schnee children, the two would finally have a child of their own to love and dote upon.
"Careful now dear, it's awfully hot," Hertz chided.
Weiss carefully took the pie from the oven. She set it down on the counter and pulled out a chair for the woman to sit and relax.
"My, it's almost hard to imagine you're related to your father. Thank you, love."
In the cottage, it was alright for just a moment to drop her guard, and simply be Weiss rather than be a Schnee. Klein cut the pie and Weiss was happy to set them on the table. As the couple talked about their day, Weiss went about making the tea.
It was nice, peaceful even, to be surrounded here at this moment, but a kind of acceptance and warmth made her almost forget about the troubles from before. There were no expectations to meet here and no stupid sister to worry about. Weiss wished she could stay here for just a little longer.
"And imagine my surprise when I find the Miss right outside her father's study."
They were talking about her; she had been so caught up in her own moment she had been ignoring them. She looked up, expecting some kind of scorn or anger like her father would, instead she was met with smiles and mirth. Weiss saw Klein hand his wife the drawing from before and Wiess jumped up in protest.
"She was waiting to show this off to her parents. I must say I really think you have outdone yourself." Klein was gushing to his wife.
"This is absolutely delightful!" Hertz squealed and Weiss felt her face flush. "Oh, I remember when you used to rush to show me all the pictures you made at school."
The woman stood up slowly and scurried off to the other side of the house. She opened an old worn-out chest where she kept all the old drawings the Schnee children had made for them over the years.
"It's not all that special." Weiss said.
"Oh, stop speaking nonsense. It's wonderful. What say you Klein, should we put it on the fridge?" Klein simply nodded as he sipped his hot tea. Weiss tried to protest. It wasn't even a picture of them after all. "But you made it dear, and if your old Grimm faced father isn't going to show it off, well we are more than willing. Besides, we have no family pictures of you and your family to show off to the baby when they get here. We need to get them acquainted with their big sister as soon as possible."
"Big sister?"
The idea caused a stir of uneasiness inside her. She was already a big sister. Granted she and Whitely were only a few years apart but even still she hasn't exactly been the most doting of siblings, it must run in the family. Hertz didn't seem to hear the uncertainty in her voice and continued on.
"But of course. We practically helped raise you all. It only makes sense that you should be a part of our family's life as well."
'Their family. Right, they have their own family.' It was a selfish and admittedly stupid thought. Weiss knew only the best of intentions were behind Hertz's words but even still it stung. The Schnee's were their own kind of family. Weiss was already a part of a different home no matter how much she might wish she wasn't. Even still for just a few fleeting moments she could pretend she was a part of someone else's.
"Have you picked names yet?" Weiss asked.
"No, not yet, we're trying to keep the gender a surprise until they come. Though we may have some trouble on that front," Klein commented, placing down his now empty teacup.
"What kind of trouble?"
"Well, Hertz is going to visit her family in Argus in a few days. They can't spare the funds to make a trip up here for us and your father has denied my request of leave. It seems there is an important function coming up soon."
"There's always a function!" Weiss complained. Another event full of stuffy dresses, fake smiles, and her home filled with strangers. Klein just laughed.
"It always seems so, doesn't it? Regardless, her family is insistent that she visit before the birth, and they can be a little pushy."
"Now you know better than to start up that fight again," Hertz chided. "My family adores you; they just like to express their opinions a little more intensely than others."
"Will the baby be alright?" Weiss chimed in.
"Yes of course. It's not too far of a trip and your mother was even kind enough to give me a special transport ship," Hertz commented. The kindly woman's eyes caught Weiss's insistent stare at the baby bulge. With a smile, she gestured for Weiss to come closer.
Weiss had been too young when Whitley was born to really understand what having a baby meant. It was a strange feeling, like meeting a stranger you had also known for so long. Weiss was hesitant when Hertz took her hand and placed it on warm skin. Weiss hadn't been expecting anything to happen, but a sense of anxiousness still persisted, afraid that if she were too rough or made any sudden moves it would hurt the baby inside. Hertz's skin was hot, not burning but almost comforting. Something light hit against her hand and was so faint she almost missed it entirely.
"Did you feel that?" Hertz asked and Weiss simply nodded. "The baby has been kicking this whole time. I think they may be excited to meet you."
"You think so?"
Hertz placed a gentle hand over Weiss' head. "I do, and I'm hoping you'll take good care of them. It's a big scary world out there and they'll need their big sister to help them out. Can you do it?"
"Yes!" Weiss said. This would be different from Winter. Weiss wouldn't run away; she would make sure to be the best sister possible. She shoved the thought of Whitely out of her mind when the guilt started to seep through. She would have to face that issue in due time.
"I'm holding you to that." Hertz's face suddenly twisted in discomfort and Weiss nearly panicked as she pulled her hand away. "Oh no dear is not you; these old bones aren't quite as tough as they used to be."
"Why don't we call it here Miss?" Klein offered, rising from his chair to tend to his wife. "I think Mrs. could use some rest. I'll take you back."
"There's no need Klein, I can make my way back." She refused his protests, after all, if she was going to be a great big sister then she would have to show she could be dependable enough for such a simple task as this. She bid them farewell.
"Let's have some tea when I get back," Hertz offered as Weiss left. "I'm sure I'll have plenty of goods and souvenirs when I do."
"Yeah! I'll see you later!" Weiss beamed. She left them there in their small cottage as she dashed off back towards the manor. The worries and fears had suddenly lifted from her shoulders, and she couldn't help the excitement pounding through her as she ran.
Two weeks later the excitement had turned to vitriolic sludge in her stomach as she stood above the empty coffin being lowered into the soggy dirt. A White Fang attack had struck down the private Schnee plane as it passed by Argus airspace. No doubt they thought a prime Schnee family member was aboard. Instead, all they struck down was a kind, humble, expecting mother.
It was a small affair, Jacque Schnee hadn't even bothered to show up. No doubt preparing for his next meeting or fancy event. Willow Schnee was dressed in all black, her pretty flawless face plagued by darkened eyes from stress and overdrinking. Weiss' mother said little as she gave the customary greeting and condolences to the guests. Hertz's family hadn't been able to make it to the funeral, the cost of travel had been too great, and her father had been unwilling to make such an expenditure. Weiss had a nasty thought that the only reason Hertz' remains had come back to Atlas at all was because she had been shot down in a Schnee-owned plane.
Her mother had been shaken by the news of course. So many years of close contact with someone was bound to leave an impression, but it was Weiss and Winter who felt the loss the most. Whitney had cried when he heard, but he had only spent a few years with the woman. Weiss cast him a look, he slumped down in his chair, face darkened in thought. No one came to console him, and no one talked to him.
'They'll need their big sister to help them out.'
Weiss didn't feel like a big sister. She felt alone and scared. Winter, however, was as strong as ever. She remained impassive and unfazed as the coffin had been lowered and buried. Her bright blue eyes looked on with some unknown emotion and Weiss was suddenly jealous. She wished she could be that strong if for only a moment. She wanted to stop the tears streaming down her face, squash the tremble in her voice every time she spoke, she wanted to look straight ahead, and be the proud figure she knew she had to be. She wanted to be the kind of person who would give her brother a hug and console the broken Klein who was an unmistakable mess of emotions. She wanted to be the brave girl that would drag her mother over to her children and force them to face this widening, devastating gap in their family. She wanted to be the person who could tell her father he was a big, unruly bully.
But she wasn't that person.
Weiss
"Say it again," Blake said.
It was a warning, Weiss knew it. Blake stared her down, shoulders tight and eyes narrowed. It was a warning and a more reasonable, more poised version of herself would have done the smart thing and backed off. In that moment, however, Weiss's temper had finally boiled over.
"The White Fang are nothing but violent, disgusting animals that should be put down," she spoke.
Blake stepped closer, and despite the difference in their height, Weiss refused to break her stare.
"You arrogant, self-righteous, uppity bit-," Blake cut herself off as she ground out the words. "How can you even say that? The White Fang aren't some wild animals. They're people, people who have suffered and lost more than you could ever understand."
"Why are you defending them?" Weiss asked. "They maimed our friend and were preparing to attack our school. Pyrrha was stabbed! What possible justification is there for that? At every turn, the White Fang propagates violence. They attack innocent people and destroy lives for the sake of their own self-satisfaction. Can you even begin to understand how many people I've seen killed by their attacks? how many funerals and eulogies my family has had to go through because of them?"
This conversation hadn't started in the dorm. It had been hanging in the air since they were evacuated from the Emerald Forest. Upon returning from their uneventful if not rather boring overnight mission they had been ushered onto an airship under tight supervision. Once they had returned to the school the news of team JNPRs unfortunate accident had spread like wildfire across the campus. Beacon had entered a total lockdown. Weiss and her team had been confined to their dorms until further notice, the only airships allowed in or out were those with official Huntsman missions and orders.
That had been three days ago, and Team RWBY was beginning to fray from constant boredom. There had been no mention of the conditions of JNPR. Ruby had been fortunate enough when a distraught Goodwitch had confirmed that they were alive, but Nora had been critically injured and Pyrrha was being treated for a stab wound. When pressed further about specifics Goodwitch had immediately regained her icy, professional persona and the conversation withered and died.
"Your family is the reason that they exist! The Schnees are single-handedly the largest perpetrators of illegal Faunus labor. They operate your mines, your shipping companies, and your warehouses. You haven't the slightest idea what they've been through," Blake shouted.
It had only been when a bored, anxious Yang had eavesdropped on a pair of Beacon staff that delivered their dinner one night that they learned of the White Fang's involvement. It had been the single spark that set the stale tension in the room, thick from worry and uneasiness, erupting into full-blown animosity.
"So, because of my family's lineage I should just willingly accept the death and slaughter of the people in my life. I should just let it go and stay quiet? Will the White Fang try to kill me and my family?" Weiss was livid. Blake had always been a bit pretentious, but when it came to the White Fang it turned into complete self-righteousness. It was almost like the girl couldn't possibly stand to hear Weiss defend herself, and that haughty, condescending glare was simply too much to sit and bear quietly.
"That's not what I mean," Blake retreated. "But you have no right to criticize them as a collective whole when you are no better!"
Weiss gasped. "No better? I didn't go out of my way to attack Nora, and I certainly didn't try to hurt other people for my own sick gain. I don't deserve to be hunted and killed simply for being me."
"And neither do we!" Blake said.
"We?" Yang asked, throwing her scroll down on the bed. All cell signals had been cut off to avoid any leaks of information about the attack. Yang who up until this point had been trying to zone out their almost constant fighting now hopped down from her bunk. "What do you mean we?"
Blake's golden eyes looked around in sudden panic. Her shoulders slumped forward as she tried to flee out the door. In another time, another place, Weiss would have gladly sent her off with a huff but this stupid back-and-forth bickering had gone on for too long. Weiss refused to allow Blake the satisfaction of running away.
Blake stopped just short of the door. Weiss didn't exactly come across as the most imposing of figures, but she served as a roadblock just fine. Blake wouldn't meet her eyes as she tried to go around. Weiss moved to intercept.
"Blake?" Yang prodded, "Is there something you want to tell us."
"No," Blake ground out.
Weiss wouldn't have it. "Are you implying that you are a Faunus as well?"
"And what if I am?" Blake stopped. Her head bowed low, she took a breath and then another. It almost seemed she was trying to calm herself but once she looked up the panic had been replaced with hotty indignation. "What would that matter to you? Would you look at me differently? Treat me differently? Look down at me from that perfectly crafted high horse?"
"Don't you dare try and assume you know me."
"Why not?" Blake countered. "Your family has been the biggest violator of Faunus rights for years. Treated as nothing more than a cheap fuel of labor, beaten down and abused. What else should I know Weiss? That you hate the White Fang? You're not the only one who's lost people. I've lost friends because of your family.
"You think you're the only one? I…" She stopped. The lump in her throat became tight. Her heart thumped painfully as the memories resurged. "My family is…You have no right, Blake."
"You have no right!" Blake shouted. "The White Fang are misguided, sure, but they aren't all violent criminals. They're people the same as you and I who have been beaten and neglected."
"That doesn't justify the atrocities they've done. The pain and suffering they inflict indiscriminately." Weiss took a step forward.
"Your people attack and hunt us like animals. They lock us up in cages and call it salvation." Blake pushed closer.
"That's enough." Yang forced them apart. "Both of you need to calm down."
"Don't tell me what I need to do." Weiss wasn't sure why her anger had turned into malice, but Yang had volunteered herself as the target of it all. The frustration, and the insecurities all came pouring out at once. It was too late to quell the bursting dam in her heart. "Where do you get off trying to mother us? You're not my sister and you're certainly not my friend."
The flash of hurt in Yang's eyes almost made her stop, apologize, and take back everything in a desperate attempt to salvage what she could. Blake's voice broke through the regret. "Don't you dare talk to her like that! Newsflash Princess, but you're not in charge. This isn't the SDC. We aren't your little minions that you can boss around and control however you want."
'Is that how they see me?' That wasn't right. She wasn't like that. She wasn't her father. "Belladonna. As in the Belladonnas? I recognized the name when we started school, but I passed it off as a coincidence. I mean, why would the Princess of Menagerie herself come all the way to Beacon? Now it makes sense."
'Stop. Please stop.' She screamed at herself. The dam had burst and the slight panic in Blake's eyes, as she stepped back fueled her spite, giving satisfaction and comfort to the hole in her chest. "She joined the White Fang just like her daddy and then when things got too hard, she ran away. Am I right? What's wrong? Was all that virtue and idealism not enough to change reality? Were they not what you thought they'd be? Just thugs and criminals parading under the guise of liberation and patriotism."
For a heartbeat, Weiss thought Blake might hit her. Blake's golden eyes narrowed in rage, her hands balled into fists and despite Yang still standing in the middle took a step forward. It was all the more tragic of timing that Ruby burst out of the bathroom. Poor innocent Ruby didn't deserve tobe dragged into this. But the chance for second thoughts had long since disappeared.
"To think I really thought better of you," Blake muttered slowly. "What a joke."
"This whole team is a joke. We have a lying, passive-aggressive Faunus who won't even trust her teammates enough to be her true self, all the while judging us for who we might be. A brute of a girl whose only pervasive qualities are poor jokes and a sister complex. And a child as a leader, who can't even look past her own naive idealism. This whole team is one big joke, just a ticking time bomb of disaster."
The room was silent. Yang crossed her arms and her lilac eyes tightened in frustration. Weiss dared not even look at Ruby, already feeling the guilt fully bloom into a deep, awful resignation. Blake, however, fled. She took one deep breath and bolted out of the room.
"Blake, wait!" Yang called. She looked ready to run after her partner before Ruby took command.
"I'll get her!" And just like that Ruby Rose dashed off in a blur of red petals. Weiss choked on her words, her body shook, and the tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them down. It was important for a lady never to cry in public, appearances must be maintained even in situations such as these. She took a movement towards the door as if to give chase, but Yang's hand clasped around the back of her collar.
"We need to talk."
Ruby
Ruby tore down the hallway in a blast of petals, rounded a corner, and slid past a few Beacon staff members that were unfortunate enough to get in her way. She felt a bit of guilt when they dropped their trays and equipment to duck under her. She couldn't stop though; she was on a mission. When it came to speed Ruby was second to none, Blake however had slipped out the nearest window and disappeared into the night.
It wasn't feasible to search the entire school, so she would have to be selective, and smart. In a strange way it was like solving a mystery, a grander scale of hide and seek. The only difference was that if she failed to find Blake instead of simply losing a game, she might very well lose her team. Weiss' words still stung but giving chase after Blake let Ruby push the hurt feelings away for the moment.
'If it were me, where would I go? The airships are locked down and I doubt Blake knows how to pilot one so she's still most likely in the school. I would want to go somewhere quiet and alone. Library? No that's way too obvious.' She searched everywhere she could think. The courtyard, the garden. At every turn she had to avoid roaming guards and security. It was growing to be a massive headache. If she was caught, then there was no telling what Blake would do with more time and space. Had Blake already been caught? Was there a place with less active security and surveillance?
Ruby eventually found Blake atop the roof of their dorms. She almost let out a groan from the massive effort she had undergone on her school-wide journey but as she stepped closer to Blake the dark-haired girl turned towards her. Her golden eyes glowed in the bright moonlight from Remnant's shattered sky. Her customary bow had been removed and Ruby could just make out two fluffy ears twitching atop Blake's head.
"You could have just told me where you were. Do you have any idea how much time I just spent running around looking?" Ruby complained.
"I was hoping you would just give up," Blake responded.
"Fat chance of that. I'm all kinds of stubborn."
"Seems to run in the team," Blake said. She shifted from side to side as if debating the merits of leaving. "I don't want to talk about it Ruby. So can we just let it go?"
"Well, that depends. Are you going to come back to the dorm?" She meant more than just their room and Ruby knew Blake understood.
"I don't know." Blake leaned against the railing looking out over the schoolyard. Ruby took a few tentative steps towards her. The fact Blake was willing to stay instead of rushing off again had to mean something, didn't it? Ruby was never the best in these kinds of moments. Yang was much better at getting others to open up and talk. Suddenly, the title of leader didn't seem quite as appealing anymore.
"I won't force you if you really don't want to. I just think it may be better than spending all night out here." Winter was already settling in; it was baffling to think it had already been a few short months since they started their time at Beacon. Ruby could see the faint fog of her breath rise up.
"I can't go back. She's there," Blake muttered.
"Weiss? You know how she can get. She'll say a few meanish things and by the end of the night we'll have moved on. Don't let her get under your skin."
"It's not that simple Ruby. You couldn't possibly understand." Blake still refused to look at her, so in a burst of defiance Ruby took the last few steps over to the railing, hopped up and sat down, feet dangling over the edge.
"Maybe not, but I can listen pretty well. And if you don't want to talk, we can sit here until you do." She saw Blake's feet shift as if readying to jump. "If you go, I'll keep chasing after you."
"Why?"
Ruby shrugged. "I don't really want to go back either."
Blake smiled and for a few moments Ruby couldn't determine what she might do next. "The White Fang weren't always terrorists you know? We started out as a protest group against unfair labor laws in Menagerie. It was small at first, just a few people who wanted to try and do something. They made some progress, and eventually, things changed. It wasn't much and it wasn't anything all that special, but the Faunus managed enough momentum to gain their own independence in Menagerie; away from the control of Atlas, and Mistral. We found success, and we found a purpose. Little by little we worked our way upwards, and little by little we pushed back against the world.
"But it was never enough. We managed to carve out our own small place, but really, we just made a convenient hole for the rest of Remnant to bury us. Menagerie, a small, Grimm-infested Island became the ideal location for a dumping ground of all Remnants unwanted. Faunus, fleeing from persecution and violence traveled across the sea to try and find some kind of hope. Those who weren't capsized and killed in the waves were left alone on a landmass without enough food, resources, and infrastructure to support them. It grew so bad that we had to ship out our own people, back into Remnant. We sold ourselves for cheap labor and a chance for some kind of hope." Blake gripped the railing tight. "Despite the White Fangs' successes early on, we haven't really changed anything. We haven't managed to save ourselves. Eventually, when you beat and starve an animal long enough it has no choice but to bite back. I believed for so long that a peaceful path wasn't able to save Faunus. I thought that we had to use force to bend the world just enough to carve out a new path for Menagerie."
She stopped, her emotions choking.
"Blake, it's ok. You don't have to force yourself."
"It's not, I was wrong Ruby. All I did, all I ever did was make it so much worse. Violence just created more violence. But protests and debates didn't solve it either. We fought, and were beaten, we protested and were silenced. I haven't changed anything."
Blake leaned forward, head resting against the metal railing. "Maybe I shouldn't have done anything to begin with."
Ruby placed a comforting hand on Blake's shoulder. "That's not true, and you know it."
"I've hurt people, Ruby. Maybe not always directly, but it always still ended up that way. When I saw that, I couldn't handle it and I left. I had hoped…" Blake stopped for a breath. "I hoped that by leaving I could put it behind me. That no one would have to be hurt again, but even now- Even when I try to avoid that part of my life, I keep bringing misery to everyone around me. Do you know what that feels like?"
Ruby let the question hang in the air. This was finally a moment for Blake to reach out. Trying to push forward recklessly like she always did could irreversibly damage the budding friendship she had built with the other girl. Ruby mulled over her next words carefully.
"When my mom went on her final mission it was just Yang and me. Well, Dad was there too but he wasn't really all there if you know what I mean. Yang forced herself to give up everything and she tried as hard as she could to be there for me. She put me at the center of her world, and, for a while, I was sorta happy."
The feelings bloomed in her chest; the guilt soaked through her heart. "While I went on pretending it was all ok, Yang was doing everything she could to try and make me be ok. She stopped hanging out with friends, she almost dropped out of school to try and find a full-time job. I realized way too late that by doing nothing I was inadvertently causing problems. I was hurting my sister by trying to keep on a happy face because I thought that was what Yang wanted. All I was really doing was putting even more pressure on her to keep it up. I was just running away from the problem and letting Yang shoulder it all."
Ruby sighed. It was always an unpleasant time reliving the past and she hadn't expected such an emotional moment to happen that night. Still, she pressed on, partly because she was afraid if she stopped for even a moment she would stop entirely. "I don't know what it was like for you Blake. I can't even begin to imagine, but what I do know is that you can't do it all alone. It's why we're a team. You and Weiss are just doing what you've always done, but you don't have to. Cause now you both have us, and you have each other. You both want to change the world, but in the end, you have to change first."
Ruby meant it as a reassuring sentiment, so it was all the more devastating when Blake broke out in a laugh. "Hey! I was being serious!
"Yeah," Blake sighed. "I know, which makes it all the more frustrating. You have a way of just making it all sound so simple. The world doesn't work that way though; it's a mean, dark place. Nothing like a fairy tale."
"Which is exactly why we're here. All of us. It may not be a lot, and it may not last, but if only a little, I know we can make it better."
"The Schnees are at the heart of it all. The SDC has been the biggest exporter of Faunus labor. they have mining facilities all over Remnant. Places where Faunus are subjugated and killed every day. I tried to overlook it, tried to look past it, but every time I see Weiss, and every time she talks about how much she's suffered my blood starts to boil."
"That's not fair."
"I know!" Blake shouted. "I know that she isn't responsible for all the suffering her family has caused, I'm not that shortsighted. It's not her fault…"
"It's not your fault either."
Blake looked up at her with wide eyes. An unanswered question hung in the air, but Ruby had enough emotional baggage for one night. She hopped down from the railing and grabbed Blake's wrist in her hand.
"Come on, I'll swipe some hot cocoa from the cafeteria, and we can sneak into JNPR's dorm for the night. I'm pretty sure they could use the company and you won't have to see Weiss tonight. We can figure it out later," Ruby chirped as she dragged Blake towards the roof's door.
Nothing had really been resolved, she knew that, but a step had been taken and that was more than enough for the moment.
Weiss
Weiss cradled the warm mug in her hands trying to focus the heat seeping from the bitter coffee into the rest of her body. The rage had disappeared quite readily as soon as Blake had left and all that remained was a kind of deep dissatisfaction. It wasn't helped by the long minutes that seemed to drag by as she waited for her teammate to broach the conversation she so rudely demanded. Yang sat opposite her, the usually vibrant and bubbly girl had a scowl in place of a smile. The air was stale and awkward, and Weiss absolutely loathed long silences.
"If you are unwilling to speak then I would prefer we drop this conversation altogether," Weiss said. "We have classes resuming in a few days and I'd rather not allow my class standing to suffer because of our own personal drama."
"Just give it a rest already," Yang sighed as she draped herself over Blake's bed. Yang's lackadaisical attitude had always bewildered Weiss. The mere thought of someone so casually violating another's personal space and property was nearly unthinkable. "You can drop the act, it's just us in here."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean."
"That right there is what I mean. You're running from us."
"I beg your pardon? If anything, Blake is the one who ran away."
"Yup, she sure did, and I'll lay into her later, but you're no better."
"No better? She is an admitted criminal. Does that not bother you?"
"Not really no."
"And why is that exactly?" Weiss asked, anger building in her voice. Yang's shrug nearly sent her over the edge.
"Blake is Blake. Has she ever done anything that's made you think she might hurt you? She knew who you were from the start, we all did, and you made sure of that. Despite that, and despite her feelings, and hangups she hasn't tried to hurt you, has she?"
"Well, I can't say she has…" Weiss relented.
"It's clear this means a lot to her and I'm positive Ruby will bring her back so just apologize alright? Then we can put this behind us."
"Why?" Weiss was past the point of trying to understand. She knew she was being unfair, but it was all so frustrating. "Why am I the only one who has to change? Weiss, stop being so bossy! Weiss, you can't be a leader because you're too entitled! Weiss, stop blaming Blake because she's just misunderstood! Princess you aren't cut out to be a huntress because of your family!"
She hated that nickname, loathed it with every ounce of her being. It put her on a pedestal, a broken, condescending pedestal that always highlighted the differences between her teammates and herself. That stupid brute used it to voice his hatred, Blake used it to remind her of her family's crimes, and Yang used it as a mocking term of endearment without ever trying to actually see Weiss as she was. And she had used it just now to hurt Blake. "I'm so sick of everyone telling me I'm the one at fault. Everyone, since I've gotten here, has been telling me that I have to change but not one of you will look at it from my perspective. Not one of you makes the effort to care."
"You won't let us. This team doesn't work if you don't meet us halfway. Ruby has been nothing but accommodating."
Ruby had been a constant annoyance. She was bright, bubbly, and kind. Often, she was prone to overextending herself or getting distracted, and Weiss was forced to reign her in lest she get caught up in some new kind of trouble. Ever since Weiss's concession to Ruby as the leader, an ugly part of her still held onto that bitterness from before. It was an unpleasant emotion that was cruelly unfair as the younger girl was nothing if not overtly supportive. Weiss had been raised to be the best in every regard, to always stand above her peers and that negative mentality hounded her in every aspect of her life. But to face that kind of realization, to overcome that glaring fault she knew existed wasn't as easy as they were all making it out to be, they hadn't the slightest idea what it was like for her, but they all acted as if every action that she took was wrong.
"I understand that I'm being unreasonable. I understand that I'm being hypocritical to Blake, that I'm doing the same things she does to me. I understand all of that but even still…" She was at a loss. There was so much she wanted, needed, to say but the words died on her lips. "It's not that simple."
"Maybe not, but there's nothing I can do unless you talk to me," Yang complained.
"Why do you care so much?"
"I dunno…" Yang stumbled for words. "I guess 'cause, I kinda get it. I mean probably not, but I know what it's like to put so much stress on yourself to be a certain way, to do everything you can for the sake of appearances. I know it's probably not the same, but I used to do the same thing when Ruby and I were growing up. We lost someone special, and I forced myself to take up a role I wasn't ready for. It was stupid and selfish in hindsight and all I did was make things harder for myself and for Ruby, but I thought I had no choice."
"It's not exactly like that," Weiss started. "I always had the Schnee name hanging above me, it defined me from the day I was born, and in turn it generated opinions about me from people I've never even met. I have to be a Schnee. It's not a matter of choice, this is simply who I was born to be."
"And who do you want to be?" Yang asked. "As corny as it sounds you can't just be a Schnee, you gotta be you first Weiss. Now I'm taking a shower and I'm going to try and relax a bit before Ruby brings Blake back."
"How do you know she'll bring her back?"
Yang shrugged. "It's Ruby."
With that the blonde strode towards the bathroom, locking it behind her. Once more Weiss found herself alone. With nothing but questions that none seemed to have the answer to. She looked towards the door. They had been forbidden from leaving, told to stay and await further instructions from official Beacon staff, she certainly could use some fresh air though. Her teammates had already broken those rules anyways. She was careful to set the cup of coffee down before she left.
Jaune
Jaune woke with blood on his hands. He couldn't see it but it was there, itching just beneath the surface. The rickety cot groaned as he rolled onto his feet, and his back popped painfully as he plodded towards the sink in the corner. The lukewarm water did little to help clear the tiredness in his eyes, but it eased some of the tension. He had slept poorly, and the memories of the attack replayed without mercy. Over and over, he was forced to watch as Nora was cut down. His mind replayed the scene, and he was left wondering what he could have done differently, how he could have saved her. He hadn't been able to protect another teammate, yet here he stood once more.
Once again Jaune Arc had come back. He always came back.
He stripped off his shirt and did his best to clean the sweat from his body. He had little experience with cells. He had been locked in a cage once when he had been captured by bandits years ago, but that had been something else entirely. He paced the length of his small cell trying to clear his head. It had been days since the attack in the Emerald Forest, days since he had been separated from his team, and days since he had heard any news of Nora and Pyrrha's condition.
He understood why JNPR had been separated; it was to make sure they couldn't collude their stories, make sure they couldn't lie their way out of trouble. Even still, the lack of knowledge was steadily driving him insane. He had spoken to Ozpin a day after the attack, the older man looked weathered and tired. Their conversation had been brief and curt with Jaune simply answering basic questions about what had happened.
Jaune hadn't spoken of the Professor, nor of the data he had stolen and stashed away in a secret groove on Crocea Mors sheath. In turn, he had been denied the status of his team. So, he waited, in silence and frustration he waited for something to happen.
It only took a few more days before he was released. It had happened late in the evening and without ceremony. He had barely been drifting off when the door to the cell swung open with a bang and the Huntsman on duty told him to get out. He was expecting Ozpin to greet him, or Goodwitch, or even some unknown Huntsman with his gear in hand and a letter telling him to get out. Part of him even expected to be escorted off to actual prison and await trial. Instead, Professor Port stood patiently by as Jaune was escorted out of his cell.
They were somewhere beneath the lower levels of Beacon, a tucked-away location for potential interrogations headed by Huntsman. Beacon had far more leverage over officially sanctioned Huntsman operations, meaning they had far more political and legal leeway when handling non-civilian cases. As such, terrorist attacks like the one in the Emerald Forest were entirely under Beacon's and, by extension, the Vale Council's supervision.
Port said nothing as the restraints binding Jaunes wrists and ankles were undone. He made no effort to speak as they boarded an elevator and headed to the upper levels. The dull whir of the elevator was the only stale sound as they ascended.
"Nora," Jaune said, his voice hoarse and cracked from days of silence.
"Alive, and stable," Port said curtly. "She'll recover."
The tension sagged out of Jaunes body, and he slumped against the side of the elevator. The worries and fears of days had simply vanished leaving only tiredness and fatigue. He said nothing more as the elevator opened. Port guided him through the empty corridors of Beacons halls.
The school lacked its fairy tale atmosphere in the night. Instead of the grand, fantastical sight he had seen on his first day, the school seemed eerie. The long shadows reached out from the corners as if wrapping around the pair as they walked, and the shattered moon did little to illuminate the pressing darkness from all around.
Port pressed ahead unconcerned. Jaune followed him out into the cold, cloudy night. They walked away from the school's main building and towards the docks. Jaune thought he was being escorted for a moment towards a ship, but Port eventually stopped in front of the ancient statue placed squarely in front of the Academy.
It was a simple stone carving. A singular fighter with his shield high stood atop a cliffside as the Grimm below reached up to try and strike at him. It was reminiscent of the pictures Jaune had seen in his own home so many years ago; like something ripped straight from a storybook.
"So, is this it?" Jaune asked as Port looked at him. "Is this where I get expelled?"
"Expelled?" Port asked. "For what my boy?"
"For the Forest? For the attack on the White Fang base?" Jaune was confused but Port simply lifted a hand to stop him.
"It is in my most unprofessional opinion Mister Arc, that you have teammates far better than you deserve. As far as I, or any of the other instructors at this institution are aware, your team had been ambushed by a few rogue White Fang terrorists when you landed too far out of your designated drop zone. A truly unfortunate series of events if I do say so," Port pulled at his mustache in thought. "Though, we will be continuing to investigate and any new information we find may change things as they currently stand."
"There was a Grimm, and I thought maybe-"
Port again stopped him. "If I may, the less we know at the moment, the better off some individuals may be."
"Right, of course," Jaune sighed.
Port rubbed his face tiredly. His precise, unkempt appearance was frayed and ruffled. He looked far more like a man in his elderly years than at any time Jaune had seen him before. A stab of guilt tore through Jaune. He had caused this; he had gone far beyond his capacity and people were hurt because of it once again.
"I'm sorry," Jaune said.
"Did I ever tell you one of my personal favorite stories Mister Arc?" Port asked suddenly.
"With all due respect, I don't really think I can bear to hear another one of your stories, sir," Jaune replied. "A story isn't going to magically make all this better; it won't heal Nora, and it won't stop an invasion of Grimm coming for us all."
Port simply laughed, much to Jaune's begrudging amusement. "I certainly don't expect it to my boy. Stories aren't meant to ward off the darkness, nor are they meant to act as weapons in place of swords and bullets. Rather, they offer a potential glimmer of knowledge so that we can change ourselves for the better. Stories themselves have a power unique enough to alter the future. If nothing else, we as a species have survived only because of our wit and our capacity to spin fantastical tales."
"And what exactly does this have to do with me?" Jaune asked.
He had expected to be expelled, jailed, or exiled. Instead, he was stuck listening to another long-winded ramble of a former Huntsman. When he was a child the prospect of a story would excite him, but now he felt he could be doing so much more with his time.
"Perhaps nothing, and yet perhaps everything. It only matters what you choose to learn from it," Port sat down on a bench in front of the ancient statue. Jaune followed shortly after.
"When I was a boy, my father used to recant stories of heroes and legends to me. We hadn't much when I was young. My father, a humble lumberjack, would work from dusk till dawn for what meager profits and wages he could. However, each night he would come home with some new and exciting story for me and my mother. He would practice and repeat it at the pub for hours until he had perfected it and when he returned home, he would put on a production for us, a momentary distraction from the day's grueling hardships.
"He told us of heroes and monsters, fighters and wizards, of Grimm and Hunters. Yet one always stood out to me the most. Back, long before time had begun, when the Brothers still walked the world and Remnant had not yet shattered, there lived a Hunter. He was a proud and noble man of distinguished birth. He captured the hearts of young maidens everywhere and the jealousy and begrudging respect of all men. Yet his true love, his true desire, was for the hunt. He hunted for everything he could find. He fought lions and bears; he wrangled snakes and creatures from far beneath the sea. He slew Grimm, and monsters that still stalked the shadows of the planet. Yet, despite his successes and despite his trophies, it was never enough. No matter how much he hunted, no matter how much he slew, he could never satisfy the thirst in his soul. No matter the trophies he brought, the prizes he hung upon his mantle and wall, he could never find the satisfaction of a job well done. Eventually, he grew bored. He had become so obsessed and so skilled that he lost himself in the monotony of it all.
"His attention grew elsewhere; he sought a greater challenge and so with all his experience and all his might he began to hunt his own kind. He slaughtered and killed, burned, and pillaged until there was nothing left. Villages and cities were all burned away in his manic frenzy for more. It grew so severe that the Brothers themselves had to intervene. They offered him a chance to repent; to put down his weapons and begin anew in exile, never to go near a weapon or person again. When he refused, they struck him down, and the Brother of Darkness, in a cruel fate of irony transformed him into the very things he had dedicated his life to kill. He grew large and the Hunter of skin and flesh turned into a Hunter of death and carnage. He was stripped of his humanity and became what he always was at heart; a pureblooded killer. He was exiled into the furthest reaches of Remnant where he continued his never-ending obsession."
Port stretched out his back and patted his large belly. An uneasy silence descended between them and Jaune was left to try and break the tension.
"So, what?" Jaune laughed. "I'm not sure I'm following you here. Is this a lesson? You telling me to settle down and become a teacher?"
Port laughed in turn.
"Oh, my boy, you couldn't handle being a teacher. You haven't the patience or the temperament. If you think fighting Grimm is troublesome, try just one day controlling a classroom of Aura-enhanced teenagers. Teaching may be the hardest job on Remnant." Port stopped for a moment, looking up at something in the starry sky. "Maybe one day though. If you can learn to handle that fear deep in yourself, you could make for a passable instructor."
"I hate to break it to you, but there's no fear. It's a job."
"Being a Huntsman is a job," Port said, shaking his head. "What you've set out on is far more than that. You've hidden that fear of yours behind this crusade. You're hiding away from the things that you should be confronting."
Jaune started to speak before Port once again cut in.
"Tell me, if your team had agreed to go with you, agreed to follow that Grimm of yours. When you all found that facility, would you have proceeded? Or would you have tried to push them away, to send them to safety while you braved on ahead?"
It was clear to Jaune that Port knew far more than he had let on initially. Worse than that, Jaune knew the answer to the question. He knew deep inside his soul what he would have done. Port simply took the silence as confirmation.
"I thought as much," Port said. "We, at Beacon receive many students like you. One's who have lost their homes and families to Grimm attacks and seek some sort of revenge. It's unfairly common, yet no less tragic. Your own teammates, I believe, are prime examples of that. Some students we must turn away because they become too consumed with the prospect of strength as a tool for violence; they desire to simply fight and slaughter. A Huntsman is more than that."
"Huntsmen are only tools," Jaune countered.
"Then why are you here?"
"I…" Jaune paused for a heartbeat. "I made a promise to someone."
Port simply nodded. A nagging question pressed at Jaune.
"Why haven't you turned me away?"
"Do you seek strength for the sole purpose of revenge?" Port asked. "Do you simply want to fight for the sake of killing? Something tells me there's more than that to you. When your team was extracted, Miss Nikos forced her way to talk to the Headmaster. Bandaged, and bleeding, she simply had to speak to him. She was furious mind you. In a state of confusion, fear, and pain she pleaded that it was entirely her own doing. She explained that she had given permission for JNPR to pursue the White Fang. She did it all for the sake of protecting you, and I believe you are the same. You're not rageful Mister Arc; you're terrified."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Jaune asked, the anger bubbling from deep inside him. "If that's the case then what is this feeling?"
The memories scorched in his mind. The city was in flames; he heard death and screaming ringing all around. His body was heavy, and his lungs filled with smoke. His hands were dyed red and Crocea Mors was lying at his feet. August stared up at him with blank vacant eyes, blood staining the front of his shirt. Through it all, those bright hate-filled golden eyes stared at him through encroaching blackness.
"Chil…dre…n," It clicked out.
The rage built in his chest and Jaune suddenly flew to his feet. He gripped his head in his hands and walked towards the fountain. He reached his hands into the cold water and splashed it on his face.
"It was supposed to be me. I was the one at fault. Every time, it was supposed to be me but someone else always got in the way!" He shouted. "Even now, Nora took the hit. I should be the one in the hospital. I should be the one left buried under the rubble. But no matter how many times I go someone else takes the fall, and I come back."
He slammed his fists down on the concrete base of the fountain, and the structure fractured under the impact.
"This isn't fear. This isn't anything that simple," Jaune said. "There's no way you could understand it; the things I've done and the people I've failed. I can see them, hear them."
Port rose slowly and made his way over to Jaunes' side, placing a hand on his shoulder. The rippling water of the fountain showed a distorted reflection of them both.
"I've had a long career as a Huntsman. In that time, I've lost many friends and comrades. Each step of the way I pushed forward, losing a part of myself but persevering nonetheless because I thought it was what I was meant to do. This path you've chosen, my boy, cannot be walked alone. I am urging you now not to run away from your team. Confront them, and in the process confront whatever this ghost looming over you is as well."
"You make it sound so easy."
"It won't be. I understand that well, but it's something that must be done."
"Pyrrha won't forgive me, Ren may hate me."
"Take the time you need, there's no need to rush things this delicate."
"Is that your permission for me to run away?"
"Retreating is different than running away; the difference lies in whether or not you come back," Port offered him a hopeful smile. "Your equipment and weapons have been sent to your dorm room. I suspect some of your team may already be there. As such, if you cannot come to face them tonight then feel free to use my office for the evening, I left it unlocked."
"Why would you go so far? Why me?"
"Because a teacher's greatest duty is to their student. I understand a great deal what loss feels like, and I'm sorry you've had to face it from so young an age. I knew Jack from our time as Huntsmen, and I had the pleasure of knowing your father as well. I have a few stories if you'd be interested in listening to this elderly man's ramblings for a night or two. A good glass of scotch does well to soothe a troubled soul."
For the first time in days, Jaune smiled. The tension eased if only a little. "I'd like that."
"Good sport," Port said with a chuckle. "Now if you'll excuse me, the Headmaster has demanded an emergency meeting for all the staff, and between the two of us, I fear what Miss Goodwitch were to do should I be tardy."
With that, Port left him. Jaune couldn't be sure how long he stood there, alone. He stayed long enough for the first hints of snow to start drifting down from the sky. It had been years since he had seen snow. When he was a child, he would have been excited to see it, to feel the cold ice melt against his skin. Now, the only things it brought were unwanted memories.
No one stopped him as he walked through the school. Staff, security, and even authorized students barely offered him a passing glance as he made his way through the empty halls. He wondered for a moment if it was Ports doing but dismissed the thought altogether. If nothing else, he was grateful for the space.
The Beacon medical facility was truly top of the line. A full on-call team of medical professionals was ready at a moment's notice to handle any emergency procedures for active-duty Huntsmen. The room was different than the standard infirmary for students; a clinical sterile room greeted Jaune. Nora had been given her own room while she was tended to for her injuries.
Jaune checked in with the attendee at a large circular, wooden desk and was directed to a room far down another hall. He hesitated at the door, hand hovering. Beyond the door, his teammate was barely alive. When he opened it, would he see Nora barely clinging to the last desperate moments of life? Would he recognize the bright, bubbly girl who was far too intrusive and far too kind?
Worst of all; what if she were awake? What would he say? What could he say? Would she hate him? Blame him? It was his fault she had been hurt at all. He only came this far under the presumption she would be unconscious. He couldn't face his team, not yet.
'You came this far. Just open the door. Don't run away again,' he told himself.
He slid the door open before he could justify another excuse. He stepped forward more out of fear than courage and was greeted with the sight of August's bloody body lying limply on the blood-soaked snow. He took a step back, his mind racing and his heart shattering. Above the bed he could see it, those awful golden eyes staring back at him.
"Chil…dre…n," It clicked.
He blinked and the body and monster had vanished. Nora lay on the bed instead, her chest rising and falling in slow rhythmic beats. Jaune gasped for air and braced himself against the frame of the door. The nightmares and memories were getting worse. Ever since the mission they had returned with greater force and power.
He stepped hesitantly into the room. He could see Nora sleeping almost peacefully. It was a strange sight. She was often full of unbridled curiosity and energy that to see her so still and passive seemed almost wrong in a way. He came closer, afraid that any sudden or loud moves would stir her awake.
"She's stable for the time being," a voice spoke up.
Jaune turned to face Ren. The sullen boy sat slumped in a chair in the corner. His eyes were tired, and his hair and clothes looked unclean and ruffled. It almost looked like he hadn't slept or bathed since they had been extracted days ago. Jaune could see the dirt and blood smeared on his face.
"I…" The words wouldn't come and Jaune forced himself to watch as Ren rose to his feet.
"The doctors have mended the wound. The bleeding stopped, and they managed to save her," Ren said. He came closer to Nora, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "The attack ripped open her chest, her Aura dampened some of the impact, but it nearly cut through her ribs and sternum. If we hadn't been picked up when we were…"
The air was thick. The unspoken words felt like a lead weight in Jaunes stomach and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
"I.." Jaune started.
"It's been the two of us for so long. When I saw her fall in the forest, I thought for a moment that a part of me had died. I should have been faster; I should have been better. Those were the only things I could think of through the worry," Ren said. "The only reason I think I can't blame you is that I know deep down you feel the same.
"Nora is always able to look on the bright side. She sees things differently than I do. When I become too distracted or focused, she pulls me out and pushes me further. I was content to let her drag me along for as long as she wanted. I was willing to go anywhere so long as we had each other. But I think I see now that I was mistaken. It's because I know that she wants to keep us all together that I'm going to ask you only this once to talk to us. Explain what happened out there and why you did what you did."
"I…" The words still wouldn't come.
"Not now. Not like this. But soon," Ren said.
"Is Pyrrha-" Jaune started.
"She's mostly better. Her arm is still sore, but she is almost healed," Ren paused. "She's angry though, we both are."
"I'm sorry," Jaune said.
"Don't apologize. Just tell us why, I think we're owed that much," Ren said. He gave one last look at Nora before making his way toward the door. He paused by Jaune for a heartbeat. A vacuum of unspoken words and a pit of excuses divided them. Yet, before Jaune could say anything more Ren left.
Once more Jaune was alone. He came to Nora's side. He stared down at her pale, sleeping face and was once more reminded of his own inability to protect someone near him. Once more, regret pooled.
"I'm sorry," he said to no one.
A.N: Hey! I know I'm late, but hear me out... Writing Blake is really hard. More than that I got distracted with problems in my personal life that kept me occupied. Other than that I want to first thank ComissarArty for their continued, awesome work. They really make this happen. I also would like to thank Averell Torrent for joining the editorial process and listening to my long-winded ramblings. Both of you guys, if you read these, thank you. As for a second update I am only going to be able to post this one chapter this month. I am working on the next few and Chapter 17th is massive. Its the climax of Jaunes backstory so I really want to make sure I get it right. So I'm sorry this is all. Though we get some more Weiss...Yay. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a follow or Review they mean a lot and make me more aware f where this story is headed.
blazbluespike120: But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Thank you for reviewing!
Rangda: I've always had some issues with how Aura is presented in the show. It remains inconsistent at the best of times and downright irrelevant at others. I also am still torn on the real differences between Semblances, and Dust versus actual magic, but that's an issue for another time. For the sake of this story, as I don't think I'll really dive into it, Aura is a rare occurrence only those who show the strongest of wills and abilities can activate. It's not a granted ability and so those who can are the ones trained to be Huntsmen, though there's no real way to test who has it. As for Jaune, it comes up in the next chapter as to more of his motivations but he doesn't want to let others be hurt by his own pursuits. He's terrified of loss. Thank you for reviewing it means a lot!
Dare Seize the Fire: Not quite yet. It feels way too early for Nora's story to be done. She has her own issues and struggles to come to terms with first. Though This isn't something trivial and her injury has major repercussions for all of her team. Thank you for reviewing and I hope this chapter, for as non-JNPR focused is at least a fun read.
Kabuto S. Inferno: I spoke a bit already about a lot of my intentions with the last chapter but I again want to thank you for pointing out the omniscience. It was a really big oversight on my part and I always want to be mindful of those issues. Thank you. As for the last chapter I am glad I caught you off guard with Kel, though I am a little bummed you saw right through my Nora strategy. Ah well, there's next time. Jaunes backstory is the big next chapter, the full package, or at least the biggest parts and I hope you haven't seen through all of that already. I always have trouble understanding some of the newer characters I introduce like Adam or Geshen. So to hear they come across pretty well is really encouraging. I haven't much more to say but I think the next chapter has a lot of what you've been wondering about so I'm working hard to try and get it well underway. It's always a pleasure and I hope this chapter was worth some of the wait.
RohanVos: We're not quite there yet. Though it is coming. There's a little more Jaune has to understand first. Thank's so much for reading and your review means a ton, thank you.
TheRaiderKing: I think my biggest fear in responding to this is that it won't come through as sincere. I really appreciate it when people are more critical of the story. I have been trying my best to come up with something fun and exciting for readers but at the end of it all I have ideas and moments. Filling in those moments is my biggest issue and it really impacts the pacing as I've come to realize. I'm sorry that this is the end, though I really appreciate you bothering to read this at all. My earlier writing was rough and I really misunderstood a lot of the characters. I would like to think I've gotten better but it's always hard to gauge. I would like to try and defend some of my decisions though if nothing more than for some of my writers' indignation. I think this version of Jaune threatening violence is still consistent, though he never would have actually committed it. He backed down regardless and then went behind Pyrrhas back discreetly rather than simply confront her. As for the mission, I do agree it is forced. Your comment really helped me put things into perspective because the next segment was supposed to happen right after this but slowing down and explaining, and setting the scene would be a way better use of time. So thank you, really thank you.
Guest: It is rather dark and well I would probably be better writing OC's I wanted to indulge in the fun and creativity of Fanfiction. Writing for these characters has really opened my eyes to how vast and complex the writing process is. Thank's for the review.
MogtheGnome: I'm sorry to hear you go. Thank you for reading, and I mean that wholeheartedly. the story means a lot to me and I really wanted to make it a fun experience. As for Jaune, if I could try my hand at pleading my case, he's right at the tipping point. These events are what ultimately shape him and there's so much more for him to do. But if this is the end thank you for coming this far, and I hope you take care.