Here we go.

Chapter 4

The best laid plans were often those that went awry.

In Qrow's defence he was mentally an adult, and he planned based on that. He'd expected that once they reached Mistral, he could somehow wow people into wanting to take them into an academy on a scholarship program even though the year would have already begun. He was a huntsman after all, and his skill would surely reflect as unnatural for a child his age. The Kingdoms would want him in the huntsman forces. Such had been the plan. A good plan, he'd thought.

What Qrow hadn't accounted for, however, was the unfaltering patience and good will of people who saw him as nothing more than a traumatised child that needed help.

"You should slow down and enjoy your childhood," said the matron of the orphanage he and Raven had been forced into. He'd heard horror stories about orphanages and this one was as crowded and over-burdened as the worst of them, but the matron was so unfalteringly genuine that he couldn't even bring himself to get angry at her.

"The orphanage is already at capacity," said Qrow, trying to reason with her. "You should be happy to have a chance to get rid of the two of us. Especially Raven."

Qrow growled as warm arms wrapped around and engulfed him in a hug. His face was pressed into the bosom of a woman much too old for him, and fingers weaved through his hair. "I would never get rid of a child. Nor would I ever be happy about such a thing. You and your sister have been through so much. So very much. Enough that I don't begrudge her difficulties fitting in."

"Difficulties? She broke a boy's nose."

"That's why they're called difficulties, little bird."

Qrow grumbled into the old woman's sweater. He hated the nicknames; he hated the pity; he hated the compassion; he especially hated being manhandled, hugged, and force fed good and healthy food like he couldn't look after himself.

He hated how it was all genuine, too.

What he didn't hate, however, was the idea of someone so good and kind giving up their life to look after unfortunate children, and it was that maturity that prevented him making life any harder for her. This was a setback to his plans, sure, but he couldn't bring himself to trample on someone so unfalteringly nice. Let alone make life harder for them.

"We want to become huntsmen, matron."

"I know. But you should wait until the beginning of a new year to test in. You will be able to make more friends that way. Don't you want Raven to make friends?"

"I guess…"

It was good advice, the kind he would have given to Ruby had Ozpin not recruited her out from under his nose while he was busy elsewhere. He was loyal to Ozpin, and trusted him greatly, but that had been a moment where their trust had been strained. Qrow had threatened to pull a Raven and leave and had only stayed because he had to protect Ruby and Yang. Loyalty did not mean slavish devotion. That was something Raven often forgot when she accused him of always siding with Ozpin. Still, having his own good advice thrown back in his face now wasn't a pleasant experience. He wasn't fifteen and socially awkward – he was over forty and socially awkward, thank you very much!

There would be no convincing the matron, however. There likely wouldn't be any convincing Sanctum either, even less chance of catching the attention of anyone in Signal. Ozpin had taken them on specifically because they proved themselves in an attack. They'd been slated for possible execution at the hands of a village so far away from the city that the law was decided by them. Ozpin had given them an offer they literally couldn't refuse, and they hadn't. Now, Ozpin would just see them as two random kids. Maybe if Raven unlocked her Semblance she'd be of interest to him, but that wasn't something he could just force.

Like it or not, getting into any academy in the middle of the year would be a hard sell.

"How about a compromise?"

"A compromise? Oh, how mature you are." The matron squeezed him. "You're so precious."

I'm over forty, damn it. I'd hope I was mature.

"I'll wait until next year and the intake then if…" He thought for a moment, and an idea came to him. It was a borrowed idea from one of Ruby's friends, and one who had died before Qrow got a chance to know her. He'd known of her though, thanks to her surviving teammates who had travelled with Ruby, and thus him, through Mistral. "-if you can enter me into some regional competitions so I can practice."

"That's not much of a compromise on your part, is it?" teased the matron. "You can't get into Sanctum anyway mid-year, so you'll have to wait. That's not how compromises work, little bird, and if you want me to treat you like an adult then you should make deals like one."

Guh.

"Then what would work?"

"If you will do as you've already said and also take your sister in hand."

Ah. That. Raven had… well, to say she'd taken to the orphanage like a fish to water might be accurate, but only if the fish were a shark and the water an exotic fish exhibit. Raven had decided early on that the best way to not be taken advantage of or mistreated like they had been in the tribe was to establish herself – and thus himself – as the dominant force in the orphanage. That meant finding the biggest and meanest boy and punching him square in the nose.

The problem was that the biggest and meanest boy in an orphanage really didn't match up to the biggest and meanest man in a bandit tribe, so Raven had smacked him off his feet and sent him bawling to the matrons, and the act had less won her respect than terrified all the other children. To be fair, they were children. They weren't used to someone like Raven. The only consolation was that he'd convinced her to be polite and obedient to the matrons because they provided them food and shelter and hot running water, and Raven had grudgingly accepted that.

"When you say take her in hand…"

"I mean control her," said the matron. "You've both been through so much and little Raven refuses to open up to any of us. That's normal for children put through terrible things, and we don't want to force it, but we also can't have her rampaging through the orphanage like she has been. Someone is going to get hurt." Under her breath she added, "To say nothing of your chances of being adopted."

Yeah, sorry lady, but Raven and I aren't going to get adopted any time soon.

It wasn't just their attitude or Raven's issues, but the fact they were a pair that refused to break up, and they were both in their early teenage years and likely traumatised. At least on paper. Most couples looking to adopt wanted someone easy, usually as young as possible, and they didn't like being forced to take two kids at once. There had actually been one person who had shown interest in Qrow, likely because the couple saw his maturity as a way to have a child without having to put up with actually having a child, but he'd refused to speak with them unless Raven was considered as well. The couple had only been looking to adopt the one child so that fell through.

"I'll talk to her," said Qrow. "And my side…?"

"I'll look up some entry-level competitions," promised the matron. He trusted her. She'd been nothing but fair to them since they arrived, and he also saw the benefit in the deal on her side. They liked to get the kids involved in things outside the orphanage, and it wouldn't cost her anything to sign him up. "And tell Raven that if she's good then I'll sign her up as well. The poor dear may as well have an acceptable way to express her frustrations. Preferably without leaving us pinching bloody noses and having to spank her again."

Qrow couldn't hide his grin. If there was one memory he'd treasure from coming back, then it was the absolutely shocked look on Ray's face when she'd been bent over this woman's knee and spanked. It hadn't hurt her much, Raven being too tough for that, but the shock and embarrassment had done enough to keep her on her best behaviour to this specific woman ever since.

/-/

The "Whispering Dreams" orphanage was a three-storey building in Mistral supported by generous donations from the city's inhabitants. Those donations sufficed to feed, clothe and keep everyone warm, but they still had to share rooms with six children to every room. Boys and girls had to sleep apart and even though he and Raven were related, that rule held, more on account of the others who would be sharing the room than any concern of what he and his sister would get up to.

Qrow knocked on the door to Raven's dorm and waited. The door creaked open and a freckle-faced blonde girl with big blue eyes opened the door. Sally was a sweet kid, but sweetness didn't stop her being swept up in Raven's orbit.

"Boss!" called the child of thirteen years. "It's your brother."

"Let him in, Sally. You know he's allowed on our territory."

The door was pulled open to reveal his sister sat in a loosely fitting robe on a bed, cross-legged. On the floor around her, deferring to her, were five other girls. They had a stack of desserts beside their bed that he was sure had been stolen – or paid in tithe, as Raven called it – to them. Or her. The other girls were smug in their swagger, though they all eyed him with respect. He was Raven's brother after all, and she'd made it clear he wasn't to be trifled with. In all fairness, so had he. He hadn't faced any bullies since he arrived, but he sparred with Raven most mornings and the kids got to witness that.

"Territory, Ray?" asked Qrow. He sauntered into the room. "Really? This isn't a prison and you're not a gang."

"This is Branwen turf."

"This is an orphanage."

"Doesn't change nothing." Raven picked up a packet of sugar-coated jelly bears and ripped them open. She tossed another to each of her followers and shoved a handful in her mouth. Her eyes lit up, "Mmmm."

Raven hadn't really tasted sweets before their arrival in Mistral. They'd had sweet foods like cakes, cooking chocolate, and sugar-bread before, but never the kinds of sweets most kids saw in convenience stores.

"Not going to offer me any?"

"You can have my greens."

"But not a packet?"

"I'm offering you every green in every packet."

"You're offering me your leftovers."

"Yeah." Raven grinned. "And?"

He crossed his arms. "And I, dear sister, may have found us the chance to test our strength against other people." He watched his sister perk up, sugar spilling from her mouth. "Interested? I'm going to need some privacy."

"You lot," said Raven to her followers. "Out."

"Aww, but Rav-"

"Out! Go fleece the third boy's room. They've been cutting us short on the dessert tax."

The five girls slid out the room, the eldest, Cathy at fourteen, shooting Qrow a wink that he was entirely too uncomfortable with. There was nothing unusual about a girl having hormones, nor about one of her age liking someone who seemed so mature and controlled. There was everything wrong with the idea of a fourteen-year-old child having the hots for a forty-year-old. Qrow had been doing his level best to feign ignorance since he first noticed.

I will remain chaste until I am eighteen. Man, I can't believe I just thought that.

"Fights," said Raven. "Spill. Are we getting into whatever it's called?"

"Sanctum. And no, not yet. We haven't stood out enough to warrant any special attention. We need to make ourselves be seen."

Raven nodded. "Makes sense." It did at that. Distinguishing yourself through feats of strength was a core tenet of the tribe. Raven wasn't entirely over those yet, even if they were now in an orphanage. "So, we need to make them want us. It is us, right?"

"I'm not leaving you behind, Ray. We're in this together."

"Good. Then what's the plan?"

"Regional competitions and tournaments. Mistral likes their big fights, and they hold several every year. The real good ones are for older kids, but there are some for younger ones like us as well. They're going to be trained opponents there, mind. They'll have aura, though they probably won't know how to use it properly yet."

That was something civilians just didn't understand. Aura wasn't binary, but something you needed to train over a lot of time. Ruby unlocked hers at nine, but she couldn't be trusted to use it in a life-or-death situation until she was thirteen. Yang had been quicker, getting hers at ten and mastering it at thirteen, in just three years.

Mastery in Qrow's mind, as a teacher of Signal and a huntsman, meant that you could instinctively use it one hundred out of one hundred times. Ninety-nine out a hundred wasn't enough because a huntsman would take a thousand hits a year, and it only took one to fuck you over. Most kids their age could block, maybe, forty per cent of blows if they were prepared, and less than twenty-five when caught off-guard. The easy part was blocking a hit you were warned about and ready for with no distractions, like in aura control exercises. Keeping it up in a hectic melee was a different matter altogether. There were always some who went above of course. Some were talented, others just worked harder, and some had huntsmen parents to teach them. Their peers might call that unfair, but no huntsman would begrudge a fellow wanting their child to be safe.

"I don't know how to properly use it either!" argued Raven. "And neither do you!"

"I know how to use it. It's just… being a bit finicky."

His mind was advanced, but his body was not, and so much of what he'd had in the future was muscle memory and ingrained. He'd relied on automatic reflexes to keep his aura up at the right moments, and none of those reflexes existed anymore. It was a problem Oz had as well, having to train Oscar all over again from nothing.

"But the point is, we can get by on what we do know. A lot of the other kids are going to be good posers. They know how to fight in one-on-one duels with fancy rules and the like. They're not fighters. Not real ones."

Raven grinned. "We're warriors."

We're kids, thought Qrow, but Raven wasn't all that wrong. To most kids they might as well have been huntsmen because mentality played a whole lot more into a fight than most people realised. At their age, at their limited skill, fights were less about fancy moves and Semblances – it'd be a miracle if anyone had theirs unlocked – and more about causing as much pain in as short a time as possible so the other person gave up. He and Raven were used to pain, much more so than the average city-dwelling kid would be.

"There's a small problem."

"What's that?" asked Raven.

"The matron will only enter us if we're on our best behaviour."

Raven's eyes narrowed. "Meaning…?"

"You have to stop terrorising the other dorms, demanding tributes and starting fights." He sighed. "And you have to stop challenging people coming to adopt to a duel to prove their worth. Aaand you need to treat the matrons with respect."

Raven had been scowling at the first, growling at the second and snarling at the third.

By the fourth, she blew her lid like an angry kettle.

Downstairs, the various kids eating dinner looked up at the ceiling, and then to the matrons. The women sighed and shook their heads, encouraging everyone to go back to dinner and to cover their ears.

"Matron," asked a small boy of some nine years. "What's a motherfucking bastard?"

"Nothing, darling. Eat your dinner."

A six-year-old girl pointed at her friend. "Shithead!"

"Terra, no!"

"Matroooon," cried a young girl. "Martin called me a disease-riddled pox-infested whore."

The matron's eye twitched. "RAVEN BRANWEN!"

/-/

Athena was someone who often took blame for things outside her control onto her shoulders. Her fiancé and teammate, Alexander, constantly told her off for it. There were things you could control and others that you could not, and a huntress could be crushed under the weight of undeserved guilt if she wasn't careful. There would always be times you were too late, too weak, or too slow to save people.

It was no fault of theirs that they had been too late to save the Branwen children on account of the pair appearing out the wilderness, and their team having no idea where they would have been otherwise. Athena did not blame herself for that. Leaving them at an orphanage, however, she did blame herself for, even if neither of the children did.

To make up for the mistake that might not be hers and might not even be a mistake, she both donated to the orphanage and visited every two weeks or so, both to check up on the twins and to spend some time with the other children telling them stories. There was a part of her that craved to adopt and protect them herself, but Alexander was right to say they couldn't. They were new huntsmen only a little out of Haven, and they had neither the funds nor the lifestyle to look after kids. They spent more time out the city than in.

"Athena." Matron Helena had a warm smile that eased Athena's fears. Qrow had assured hee that the matron was fair and kind, and she didn't think the boy had it in him to lie. Athena thought herself a good judge of character as well, but it was hard when you were leaving a pair of children to a stranger. "Here again to visit the two of them?"

"I just want to make sure they're alright," said Athena.

"Hmm. You're always welcome here. You know that. They're out in the gardens beating one another to near death." The matron sighed. "I'd argue it's less sparring and more cruelty if not for the both of them telling me it's okay. They want to join Haven." Helena smiled faintly. "You must have made a strong impression on them."

Pride warred with fear over that. It was always a warm sensation to be told someone looked up to you, and yet what if they got hurt because of her-? Wouldn't that be her fault? Yet again, she could almost hear Alexander sighing and telling her not to blame herself for every little thing.

"Have there been any adoption offers for them?"

"One more for Qrow. His maturity and easy-going nature make him an attractive option to couples looking for a low-maintenance child. The problem is his sister."

"Is she still acting up?"

"Not since I made a deal with Qrow to have him talk to her. She still swears in ways even I can't, not to mention she reacts to every sleight with violence, but at least she doesn't go out seeking it now. I had to promise to sign them up for local competitions to win him over. In fact, I was hoping to talk to you about that. I know you do a lot for us already, but I really don't know anything about how to approach the tournaments…"

Athena smiled and promised to take care of it. As requests went it wasn't a big ask, and she knew the proper channels from her time in Sanctum and Haven. The career path of a huntsman or huntress tended to be somewhat insular, with huntsmen knowing other huntsmen, and how to talk to them. It wouldn't be too difficult to sign them up, though how well they'd do was another matter entirely.

Helena brought her around the back of the Whispering Dreams orphanage to where a playpark had been built through generous donations from a local business. It was a modest thing, but well-used and loved by children of many ages. Bright coloured balancing beams, swings, slides and jungle gyms dotted it. A lot of those were going unused however, as the kids had taken to forming a large circle around a clear patch of grass. Given that they were mostly small children, Athena had no trouble seeing over the top alongside Helena.

Raven swung a wooden training sword with both hands, narrowing missing Qrow's wild hair as he ducked beneath. He had his own sword, grasped one-handed, that he stabbed up toward her stomach, only for the girl to spin away, slamming a foot to the side to recover her balance as she brought her sword back, up and down with more grace than Athena would have expected for someone her age. Qrow parried it – and it was a good parry. None of the blade locking nonsense a lot of movie-fed children his age thought was real, and more of a clever flick, a rap of wood and wood, and then a created opening that he drove his foot into. Had he tried to use the sword, there would have surely been enough time for Raven to recover or dodge.

The girl skidded back from the blow instead, lips formed tight but no tears or reaction to the solid blow to her stomach. She kicked her foot forward, casting up sand into the air that Qrow shied away from, before lunging through the smokescreen. Qrow flicked his sword against hers to deflect and rode the momentum inward, until they were chest to chest and face to face. He hooked his free hand and arm under her armpit, twisted his body to jut his hip against hers, and rolled her over his shoulder in a textbook throw.

It was at that point that most would have pressed the sword to their opponent's throat and politely asked them to surrender. Qrow brought it up and down toward her face instead, making Athena gasp. The crack of wood echoed as Raven clumsily – but successfully – got her training weapon up between both hands, wielded less like a sword and more a shield. Qrow drew back and stabbed, but Raven was already kicking back, and she pushed herself away, slapping her sword down between her legs horizontally to drive the thrust into the dirt. She scrambled to her feet hurriedly. It wasn't graceful, nor was it pretty, but proper fights rarely were.

They're good, thought Athena, stunned.

It wasn't that they were impossibly or unnaturally good because pre-academies started at age eleven and the kids in there were all very capable, but that was children raised for that role. They'd had training and education beforehand, unlocked aura, and usually plenty of one-to-one instruction from their parents. Even then, she'd say that half of them were worse than Raven, and far more worse than Qrow.

Had their parents been huntsmen? It was something she'd assumed against on account of the fact they'd died. No huntsmen were invisible, but if there had been enough Grimm to bring a pair down then there should have been enough to hunt the children down as well.

"They do this every day," said Helena, as the pair of children flew back into melee with all the others chanting in excitement. For kids their age, a fight like this was high entertainment. "We were understandably worried at first, but any attempts to stop them just meant they'd do it outside of our sight. Better to have them do this where we can see and offer first-aid, and to be honest, they're good enough to nod need supervision anymore."

"I can see that. And this happens every day?"

"Without fail. Raven is a little hellion if she doesn't get her fight, and she's far more mellow once she's worn out and dotted with bruises." The matron sighed. "I feel abusive just saying that, but the two of them love it and one another. I'd feel crueller for making them stop. You can see why I was willing to let them take part in competitions, though."

"I can."

"Will they do well?"

"They'll definitely do well," said Athena. There wasn't much sign of aura, but their skill alone would put them in good standing. "I can't say they'd definitely win – there are always some monstrously good kids – but there's no way they'd bomb out in the early rounds."

"Will they do good enough to draw the eyes of Sanctum?"

"Is that why you're doing this?"

"Not I," said the matron. "Little Qrow is very clever for his age, and mature, but he wears his emotions on his sleeves sometimes. Not that it's hard to see the connection between him begging to be let into Sanctum one moment and then compromising on tournaments the next. He wants to show off and get himself and his sister invited in early." Helena chuckled, shaking her head. "What do you think? You're the huntress here, not I. Is it possible?"

"There are late entries into years sometimes. It's usually because of families moving to Mistral, but that doesn't mean it can't work the other way around. You see it more in the academies proper. There have been cases where Haven has taken a promising student from Sanctum a year early. I think it happens in the other kingdoms as well. I suppose there's no reason it can't happen sooner, especially when most of the first year or two is basic combat work and aura control anyway. If the two of them are this advanced on that, it shouldn't be impossible for them to catch up."

It would be the headmaster's discretion on whether to invite them or not, however. If that were Leonardo then Athena might be able to talk to him on their part, but Leonardo ran Haven, not Sanctum. The best she could do was ask him if he might put a word in with the headmaster of Sanctum, as one teacher to another.

That'd be a lot easier if she had some evidence to present.

"Leave it with me," said Athena. "I'll see about getting them signed up for the younger brackets."

/-/

"This is unusual, Athena…"

"Please, sir." She batted her eyes at Headmaster Leonheart as she had more than once to get out of trouble. It rarely worked, but the exasperated roll of his eyes was still accompanied by a fond smile. "I'm not asking for a miracle, sir. I just want to have them signed up to some of the younger tournaments. They need a backer for that. A sponsor."

"I'm quite aware of how it works, and what you're asking of me. You know I'm not normally above doing favours for my former students, especially something so small, but the tournaments are very select, and a lot of parents pay good money to have their children trained for a chance to compete. There could be accusations of favouritism should I just wave two children in."

"They want to become huntsmen through the orphan programmes."

"Admirable, of course, but that so do a lot of children lacking in good alternatives. Signing them up next year for Sanctum would be easier than pushing them into the tournament scene. They need sponsors for more than just entry, Athena. Do they have weapons? Armour?"

"Uh… I was hoping you might provide…"

Leonardo laughed. "I'm one man."

"You run Haven."

"Yes, a school that is taxpayer funded to provide equipment to disadvantaged children of ages seventeen or up. Again, I could get in trouble for sponsoring people outside my remit." He paused, then, to take in her defeated and hopeless expression. "Oh, come on now. Enough of that. I said I could not help directly, not that I would not offer some support." He fished in a drawer in his desk and came back with a small business card that he offered across the desk to her. "There's a charity competition taking place a month from now. No prizes for the winners, all proceeds to charity. There are a few lesser-known combatants looking to make names for themselves but, I am told, they're struggling to find numbers. A lot of parents and agencies don't see the point in risking potentially career-ending injuries to their athletes for no real reward."

Athena's eyes lit up. "Thank you, sir! Thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet. You'll need to find them weapons or sponsors to provide them weapons, and you'll need to convince the competition runners to let them compete. Feel free to throw my name around if you wish but remember that I cannot officially back them. That said, this is a charity event, so perhaps you might be able to offer them a trade."

"A trade, sir?"

"They want to put on a show good enough to draw viewers and, thus, charity donations. Tournaments are big business, my dear, but watching children fight isn't as exciting as watching adults compete."

Her eyes widened. "You want my team to fight?"

"You could certainly offer. Not against children, obviously, but you could offer yourselves up for an exhibition match or offer private training with licensed huntsmen and huntresses as a prize. As I said, the organisers want to raise as much money as they can for those in need. Offer to help them in a meaningful way and I think you'll find they're quite willing to bend the rules to allow your little orphans in." He winked and added, "Just make sure they don't get slaughtered. That'll upset everyone."

"Oh, don't worry, sir. I know for a fact they'll do just fine."

"Really now?"

"Let's just say, sir, that you might be wanting to keep an eye on them for when they hit seventeen. Or even sixteen."

"Exciting." He rumbled with laughter slapped his desk. "Well, I'll look forward to seeing them at work. I'll be at the event naturally. It's for a good cause after all."

"Will Sanctum's head be there?"

Leonardo smiled. "He will." Athena pumped her hand excitedly. "I'll be sure to point him in their direction if they make as good a showing as you seem to think they will. If he won't take them, I might even have a word with an old friend of mine. He has a lot more pull with this kind of thing, and he's very interested in up-and-coming huntsmen who might prove capable of defending the kingdoms one day."

Athena thanked him profusely as she left. She couldn't wait to bring the good news to little Qrow and Raven, but first she had to convince the charity organisers to let them compete. And before that, she had to convince the non-pregnant members of their team to put on a show for all the onlookers. She already had her scroll out and a number dialled.

"Yes?"

"Alexandeeerr," purred Athena.

"Oh no…"

"You know I love you, right?"

He sighed. "What is it I'm agreeing to…?"

Next Chapter: 21st October

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