The Future of Spring
Pyrrha had texted ahead on their way back to the Nikos house, so their party was met in the hallway by Sun, Neptune, and Arslan, all of them armed and waiting as the front doors opened to admit not only those who had set out for the party that evening, but also the Branwen party.
Raven smirked as she looked at them. “You greet us in your home with armed guards? Are you trying to intimidate me, or are you confessing that you find me intimidating?”
“If I wished to intimidate you, chieftainess-“
“Raven, please,” Raven said. “Don’t you find ‘chieftainess’ a bit of a mouthful, Lady Pyrrha?”
Pyrrha ignored the undercurrent of mockery in her tone. “Very well, Raven; if I wished to intimidate you, I have more than three men I could call upon to meet you here.”
The smirk did not move from Raven’s face. “I see,” she said, and Pyrrha felt she must have noted that Pyrrha had not commented on the question of whether or not she felt intimidated by Raven.
She was intimidated, in truth. She might be the Fall Maiden, but this was Raven Branwen, who had herself been one of Ozpin’s hand-picked students, who had been blessed with a touch of his magic… who commanded the power of the Spring Maiden. She was not an adversary Pyrrha could, or would, take lightly.
Though it is my hope that we need not be adversaries.
“So this is your house, huh?” Yang said, looking around the hallway. “Pretty sweet set-up you got here, Pyrrha.”
“Thank you,” Pyrrha said quietly.
“Hey, Yang,” Sun said, as he waved to her. “Nice to see that, uh, nice to see you’re not dead.”
Yang chuckled. “Nice to see you too, Sun.” She looked at Pyrrha, her face set with determination even if her hands were trembling slightly. “So, where do we start?”
“I’ll take you to see Ren and Nora, if you don’t mind,” Pyrrha replied. “I won’t intrude upon your reunion with your uncle, but…” she trailed off, unwilling to say in front of Raven that she had hope that Ren and Nora might help her persuade Yang to stay here with them. She looked at Raven. “Raven, may I trouble you for a word in private, while Yang speaks with her uncle? There are things that I think we should talk about.”
Vernal sneered. “What words do we need to exchange with you?”
“I don’t know, Vernal,” Raven declared, “but I would rather find out than dismiss the possibility.” To Pyrrha, she said, “Very well, Lady Pyrrha-“
“Pyrrha, please,” Pyrrha interrupted her. “'Lady Pyrrha' is a bit of a mouthful.”
Raven snorted. “Very well, Pyrrha, we can talk. As one former student of Ozpin to another.”
“Thank you,” Pyrrha said. “Sun, Neptune, will you please escort Raven into the drawing room and-“
“And wait there to make sure that I don’t go anywhere else or take anything that I shouldn’t,” Raven finished for her. “You don’t trust me, Pyrrha?”
“Your reputation as a bandit precedes you, I’m afraid,” Pyrrha said, unapologetically. “You can hardly complain about the consequences of that reputation.”
Raven seemed more amused than offended. “I could puff out my chest and complain about the fact that I have made a bargain with the Council and so you should accept me as a friend and ally… but you’re quite right, of course. You would be a fool not to remember what I am. Your mistake, if you will allow me to give you a piece of advice, is to think that these two male models over there would be sufficient to prevent me from getting up to any mischief.”
“Did she just call us male models?” Sun asked.
“I don’t think it was a compliment, dude,” Neptune replied.
Raven took a step forward. “Lead on, boys, I’m all yours. Vernal, wait here.”
Vernal let out a deep breath that was almost, but not quite, a sigh. “Very well, Raven.”
“I will go with you,” Lady Nikos declared. “I have never met a lord of brigands before. It might prove… rather instructive.”
Pyrrha watched Sun and Neptune lead Raven – warily – towards the drawing room on the first floor. She glanced at Vernal, who seemed both ill-at-ease and yet at the same time unable to stop from eyeing up the various curiosities and antiques displayed in the hall, like the eighth century bronze elephants on the coffee table on the right hand side by the stairs.
“Arslan,” she said, in a low voice, “would you please stay here and keep our guest company?”
“Good idea,” Yang muttered under her breath.
“I’ll stick around, too,” Swift Foot said. She had looked a little pale ever since they had left the palace, but her voice was firm, and she looked certain enough about her desire to do this.
“Very well,” Pyrrha agreed. “And thank you. Jaune, come with me.”
“Of course,” Jaune acknowledged.
“Yang,” Pyrrha said. A sigh escaped her. “Please follow me.”
Yang gestured for Pyrrha to take the lead. “Lead the way.”
Pyrrha had already asked Ren and Nora to go to one of the ground floor sitting rooms to wait for them – she hadn’t said why; she’d just asked them to go – and it was to that sitting room that she and Jaune brought Yang, pushing open the lacquered wooden door to admit her into the good-sized chamber, where the chairs were well-stuffed and the tables were antique.
Nora and Ren were both standing, talking softly to one another. They both turned as the door opened.
“Pyrrha,” Nora cried, “what’s the big idea by asking us to wait here without…?” her voice died in her throat as she saw who had come in with Pyrrha and Jaune.
“Yang?” Ren asked, disbelieving.
Yang walked in, stepping past Pyrrha and Jaune to approach her old teammates. “Hey, guys,” she said, her voice soft, almost diffident, quite definitely nervous. “I… hi.”
For a moment, the two of them stared at Yang in stunned silence. That silence was broken by Nora yelling “YANG!” before she launched herself across the room as though she’s been struck with her own hammer.
Yang raised her hands defensively. “Woah, Nora wa-”
She was hit by Nora like a missile, and they both fell to the ground, crushing a coffee table – at least that was its current use – into splinters beneath them.
“Sorry!” Nora said.
“It’s quite alright,” Pyrrha said mildly. “It was only thirteenth century.”
Ren took a step forward. “Yang… it’s great to see you, but… how is this possible?”
Yang seemed content to lie on the floor, her arms around Nora just as Nora’s arms were around Yang’s neck. “Well, be fair, Ren, it’s not as if you found my body out at Vale and buried it.”
“No,” Ren allowed. “But even so-”
“Raven kidnapped her,” Jaune said bluntly.
Nora looked up. “Your mother kidnapped you?”
“'Kidnapping,'” Yang said, as she got to her feet, with Nora still hanging onto her, “is a very harsh word.”
“Well, how would you describe someone who takes someone somewhere without their consent?” Jaune demanded.
Yang pried Nora from around her neck. “Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds bad.”
“If there is a more sympathetic interpretation, then perhaps you should give it to us now,” Ren suggested.
“She was trying to protect me,” Yang insisted. “She saved my life in the battle - I would have died without her - and beyond that… she wanted to keep me safe from… from…” She glanced at Pyrrha.
Ren folded his arms. “If you’re trying to talk around Salem or the Relics or anything else that Professor Ozpin entrusted to Pyrrha and her team, we already know.”
Yang blinked. “You told them?”
Pyrrha nodded. “And Sun, and Neptune. And my friend Arslan too. And my mother.”
Yang grinned. “Kind of missed the point of ‘secret’ there, don’t you think, Pyrrha? It was hard enough getting Ruby to tell me.”
“And you didn’t tell us even though you knew for months,” Nora pointed out, with a touch of sourness in her voice.
“Because it was a secret,” Yang replied, “and Ruby asked me to keep it a secret.”
“I know that Professor Ozpin likely would not approve of all my actions,” Pyrrha admitted. “But… the Professor is dead, and I needed help. I needed to be sure that, if anything were to happen to me, someone would be able to carry on the fight.”
Yang nodded. “I guess that’s fair enough. But how did Uncle Qrow take it?”
“He… wasn’t really in much of a position to let us know, one way or the other,” Jaune confessed.
Yang winced. “Right, the whole ‘thinks I’m dead’ thing. Anyway, the point is that Raven didn’t want me involved in any of that, and she thought that taking me away was the best thing that she could do.”
“So how did you get away?” Nora asked, seizing Yang by the hands. “And what happened to your fingers?”
“Raven cut them off,” Jaune preempted.
“Jaune!” Yang snapped. “Can you just stop for a minute?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re making Raven look bad.”
“I think that Raven made herself look bad when she cut off your fingers,” Jaune replied.
“Did Raven cut off your fingers?” Ren asked.
Yang sighed. “Yes, but-”
Nora growled. “So how did you get away from her? And how did you find Pyrrha?”
“I didn’t!” Yang said loudly. “Raven’s here; she’s upstairs waiting to speak to Pyrrha.”
Nora and Ren both looked at Pyrrha. “Are you going to talk to her about which limbs she’d like to lose for what she did to Yang?” Nora suggested.
“No,” Pyrrha admitted. “Unfortunately, I have to speak to her about the Spring Maiden and about the disappearance of Manjushage.”
“Disappearance?” Yang repeated. “What are you talking about?”
“The town of Manjushage disappeared not too long ago,” Jaune explained. “The buildings are still there, but all of the people fit to work have been taken. The town was gassed, the people knocked out, and they and the attackers both disappeared before our response could get there.”
Yang’s eyes widened. “And you think the Branwen tribe did that? No way, that wasn’t us. We don’t have knockout gas of any kind, and there’s no way that we could abduct a whole town and just disappear before any help could reach the place.”
Nora took a step back, and a touch of concern entered her voice. “Yang, why are you saying ‘we’?”
Yang looked from Nora to Ren and back again. “Because I didn’t escape, because for better or worse, these are my people, and the tribe is my home.”
“The tribe that kidnapped and mutilated you?” Ren demanded.
“I deserved that-” Yang began.
“No, you didn’t!” Nora replied loudly. “You might think that you did now, but once we get you away from them-”
“I’m not staying here. I can’t.”
“Why not?” Nora demanded. “You don’t belong with these people-”
“They’re my family-” Yang began.
“What about Ruby? Isn’t she your family?” Jaune snapped.
Yang rounded on him, her eyes flashing red. “If you want to talk about Ruby, then how about we talk about the fact that you left her too, and without as good of an excuse as me!”
“That’s not fair, Yang,” Pyrrha said, taking a step forward as Jaune cringed guiltily. “I asked Ruby to come here with us; it was her choice to decline.” She paused. “That said… I am sorry. I… should have insisted rather than leave her alone.”
Yang closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were their old lilac colour. “I’d be more mad at you if she were really alone,” she admitted, “but Sunset’s with her, so I guess it’s not so bad.”
Pyrrha gasped. “You’ve seen Ruby and Sunset?”
“Once,” Yang replied. “Like I said, Raven has been keeping an eye on Ruby and Dad for me. They were – all three of them – in the mountains on the edge of Vale.”
Pyrrha frowned. “Sunset’s supposed to be in prison, and Ruby was going home to Patch… what are they doing on the edge of Vale?”
“Fighting monsters.”
“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Nora pointed out.
“I know, but it’s the best I can do,” Yang said with a shrug that made her feathered cloak flutter. “Raven’s semblance is portal teleportation - that’s how she was able to get me away from the battlefield and how she was able to find Ruby - but she can’t exactly get close enough to eavesdrop on their conversations. But they’re alive, or at least they were when I left them. And they’ve got each other, so… so I’m sure they’ll do fine.”
“I hope so,” Pyrrha murmured. “I pray it is so.” She looked at Jaune. “They’re together,” she said.
Jaune smiled for a moment, and then frowned. “That’s better news than we could have hoped for, and yet… on the border… that’s more worrying than I would have guessed.”
“That’s the terrible thing about knowing a little,” Yang said. “It sometimes hurts you more than knowing nothing at all.”
“We’re finding that out for ourselves,” Ren muttered darkly.
Yang turned towards him. “I know how this must seem, but… I’m making them better. With the help of this deal with the Council… the Branwen tribe aren’t going to be bandits any more. They’re going legitimate, and I can make sure they stay that way.”
Ren frowned. “Even after all that they have done to you?”
“They haven’t done that much. I mean it’s only a couple of fingers, right?” Yang asked, trying to smile. The smile died swiftly. “I… faunus like Blake have had worse done to them by humans, but they’re still willing to give their lives to defend humanity. Compared to that, what Raven’s done to me is nothing.”
Nora clasped her hands together. “I don’t like this,” she said. “I don’t like letting you go with them.”
“Nora,” Ren said, softly but firmly, “she’s made her choice, and we have to respect that, even if we disagree.” He bowed his head to her. “Your courage continues to be incredible, even if you still lack wisdom.”
Yang laughed. “It’s good to see you again,” she said. “Both of you. How does it feel, knowing the truth?”
Ren and Nora glanced at one another. “It’s… rather terrifying,” Ren confessed. “But we do what we can.”
Yang nodded. “Good luck with that,” she said. “I… I really would… I wish that I could fight that battle alongside you, but Raven needs me. And more importantly, so do the people she might prey on if I wasn’t here.”
“Yang,” Pyrrha said, “before I go and speak to Raven, is there anything that you can tell me about the Spring Maiden?”
Yang was silent for a moment. “She’s in your hall.”
Pyrrha’s eyes widened. “Vernal?” she asked. “Vernal is the Spring Maiden?”
“She hardly looks old enough,” Jaune said.
“She was really young when she got her powers, I guess,” Yang explained. “But I’ve seen her do… magic, I suppose you’d have to call it. And she won’t let me forget it either.”
“You don’t like her very much, do you?” Jaune guessed.
“There’s not much to like,” Yang informed him. “Can… can I see Uncle Qrow now?”
“Of course,” Pyrrha replied. “Ren, Nora, would you show Yang the way to Mister Branwen’s room? Jaune, I need you with me when we talk to Raven.”
“Sure,” Jaune said. They both stayed in the sitting room as Yang left, accompanied by Ren and Nora to show her the way.
Pyrrha bowed her head. “Am I the only one who feels as though we’re letting Ruby down horribly by just letting her leave with these people?”
“Not at all,” Jaune informed her. “We ought to keep her here. And… and the Spring Maiden, too.”
Pyrrha looked up. “You mean-”
“She’s right here, Pyrrha. I don’t see how we can avoid having this conversation any longer.”
“You mean you don’t see how we can avoid murdering a guest beneath my roof,” Pyrrha said. “So that we’re clear.”
“I’m not pretending that it will be right or honourable,” Jaune said. “But it might be our best shot at stopping Salem in her tracks. With one of us as the Spring Maiden, there’s no way that Salem’s forces can open the vault-”
“Unless they kill Nora or Arslan or Swift Foot or whoever ends up inheriting the powers of Spring the way that you are suggesting that we kill Vernal,” Pyrrha replied. “Let’s not pretend that this one death is a permanent solution to our problems.”
“No, but it puts us in a much better position than we’re in right now,” Jaune insisted. “We can protect Spring much better than the Branwen tribe can. Our uncertainty about the whereabouts of the Spring Maiden… we have a chance to secure the key that Salem is searching for, Pyrrha! We have a chance to put it in our pocket and protect it from her!”
“Without preparing anyone who might be fit to receive it,” Pyrrha said. “At least Professor Ozpin gave me a choice and time to think it over.”
“Professor Ozpin gave you a choice over whether you wanted to climb into an Atlesian death-trap and sacrifice your personality to save Amber,” Jaune retorted. “If it had just been about inheriting the magic in a natural-”
“Please don’t use the word 'natural' to disguise what you’re proposing,” Pyrrha said. “Please, Jaune.”
Jaune nodded. He ran one hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. I know that you hate this, and I know that this isn’t you at all, but… I just don’t think that we can allow this chance to slip through our fingers because of honour.”
“Why do we deserve to win against Salem and her forces if not because we behave righteously?” Pyrrha asked. “If we murder for the powers of the Maiden, then how are we different from anyone else who murdered to obtain the magic? Professor Ozpin said that the means of obtaining the powers determined what would become of those who did obtain them, whether they would do well or ill. And, surely that goes doubly for not just a murder, but for the murder of a guest beneath my roof.” She hesitated. “And besides… a battle between two maidens could tear this house apart, and I will not put my mother and servants at such risk.”
Jaune clenched his jaw. “I’d forgotten about the servants.”
“I…” Pyrrha hesitated. “I know that you’re only suggesting what you think is best, Jaune, but sometimes, we have to do what is right instead of what is best for us.”
Jaune was silent for a moment. “You know… the last time I spoke to Sunset, she said that I needed to take care of you, because your good heart would lead you… into trouble,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I’ve done such a good job.”
“I’m still here,” Pyrrha reminded him. “Although… I dare say that Sunset could have done with… being a little less pragmatic, at times.”
Jaune snorted. “Maybe. What I’m trying to say is… I’m just trying to look out for you. For all of us.”
“I know,” Pyrrha said. “And I appreciate that. And I’m sure that there are times when you will be right… I just don’t think that this is one of them.”
“No,” Jaune said. “And after what you said… what you reminded me of… neither do I. But what are you going to do?”
“I… I’m going to appeal to Raven’s better nature,” Pyrrha said. “And possibly to her sense of self-preservation.”
“You might get further with the second one,” Jaune suggested.
“Quite possibly,” Pyrrha conceded. “Shall we go and see?”
Together, they went up to the drawing room, where Raven was ensconced under the watchful eyes of Sun and Neptune, who stood at the back of the room looking… well, looking like bodyguards. Raven sat in the armchair facing the sofa, with one ankle resting upon her knee, while Lady Nikos sat in the chair beside the settee. A blue willow teapot sat upon the table, and Raven held a small cup delicately in one hand and sipped from it.
She did not rise as Pyrrha and Jaune entered and took their seats upon the sofa facing her.
“Thank you,” Pyrrha said. “For agreeing to speak to us.”
“I must admit, I’m a little curious to meet Ozpin’s latest protégés,” Raven replied. “You definitely seem much more straitlaced than my old team. Although I suppose your team leader made up for that when she was around.”
“Perhaps,” Pyrrha said coldly. She didn’t particularly want to talk about Sunset with Raven. “Yang… is being very brave.”
Raven snorted. “Let me guess: you offered her sanctuary, here with you, and she turned you down.”
“She did,” Pyrrha replied. “I make no apologies for the offer.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Raven said. She sipped at her tea. “But Yang is a Branwen; my blood flows in her veins. My strength is in her spirit.”
“The strength of a coward?” Jaune muttered.
Raven stared at him for a moment, in silence. “The strength of a survivor,” she said. “I knew that Ozpin would fail, and he did. I knew that sticking with him would only lead to ruin and misery… and I was right. Summer died, Qrow and Tai were left pathetic husks, I’m the only one who made it out in one piece. I will not apologise for that or for rescuing my daughter from following where… where her mother’s footsteps led.” She drained the rest of her teacup and slammed it down hard upon the table. “I… I lost my best friend because of that man! I won’t apologise for rescuing Yang from that.”
“And Ruby thinks she lost her sister because of what you did,” Jaune reminded her.
A look of guilt flashed across Raven’s face. “I lost a brother, once,” she muttered. “It only made me stronger in the end.”
“'Stronger'?” Pyrrha snapped. “You call leaving her a tearful, nervous wreck, half-convinced that her sister’s death was her fault, broken in spirit, doomed to wait upon a father as broken as herself, you call that 'stronger'?”
“Pyrrha!” Jaune cried.
Pyrrha looked down and saw that ice had started to spread across the floor. Pyrrha closed her eyes and wrenched her powers back inside herself.
Too late, of course. Raven had already seen more than enough. “So,” she said softly, leaning forward a little. “Ozpin made you his Fall Maiden.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Pyrrha replied coolly.
“Don’t worry,” Raven said, an undercurrent of amusement in her voice, “your secret is safe with me. Did you ask me here just to lecture me about Yang?”
“No,” Pyrrha said. “I asked you here to ask you if you know anything about the town of Manjushage.”
“Where?”
“It’s in the interior,” Pyrrha elaborated. “Its entire population was kidnapped, spirited away before my forces could arrive to defend them-”
“The Branwen tribe doesn’t traffic in people,” Raven declared flatly. “Nor do we take slaves. They're not worth the trouble.”
“Do you know of any tribe that does those things?” Pyrrha asked.
“Some,” Raven admitted. “None that could pull it off so quickly as you seem to be suggesting.” Her blood-red eyes narrowed. “Why were you so sure it was me?”
“The devastation wrought upon the town,” Pyrrha said. “It suggested the possibility of… magic.”
Raven’s eyebrows rose. “Everyone in this room… is aware?”
Pyrrha sat back. “Not what Professor Ozpin would approve of, but-”
“But wise, nonetheless,” Raven said approvingly. “Oz and all his secrets. And where have they gotten him? But the answer to your question is no: we aren’t responsible. Thanks to Yang, we haven’t hit a town like that in a few months now.
“So it’s true that she’s become your conscience,” Jaune said.
Raven snorted. “Perhaps. I’m becoming sentimental in my old age, it seems. I didn’t take your town. And, as I am now a representative of the Kingdom of Mistral, I would report it if I knew who had. Regardless of what you may think, I do want to make this arrangement work. I wouldn’t put it in jeopardy to protect a rival clan.”
“But you do have the Spring Maiden,” Pyrrha pointed out. “Don’t you?”
Raven smirked. “If Yang hasn’t already told you who it is, then I’ll be very surprised.”
“You know that Salem is hunting her,” Jaune said.
“Salem has been hunting her ever since she was a girl,” Raven replied. “The Maidens will be hunted their whole lives.”
“But especially now,” Jaune pointed out. “Salem… Salem has the Relic of Choice.”
For the first time in this conversation, Raven looked afraid. She tried to hide it, but she could not completely conceal the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the way she froze for a moment. “I… see,” she said, her voice quieter than it had been a moment ago.
“And you see as well that the enemy has failed to acquire the powers of the Fall Maiden,” Lady Nikos reminded her. “Which means-”
“That Spring is next,” Raven finished for her. “You make me wonder if returning to a nomadic life would be better.” She leaned back in her seat. “From the fact that I haven’t been visited by grimm or by any of Salem’s agents, I guess that she doesn’t know that I have Spring.”
“Apparently not,” Pyrrha said.
“But that doesn’t mean that she won’t find out,” Jaune informed her. “Salem has agents here in the city, and maybe outside of it as well; if she finds you-”
“Why don’t you skip the pretence of concern for the wellbeing of me and mine?” Raven suggested.
“So long as Yang is with you, then it’s not pretence,” Pyrrha replied.
“But you want me to give up the Spring Maiden to you?” Raven said. She shook her head. “The answer is no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t traffic in people,” Raven repeated. “Vernal ran away from Mistral once already; I’m not going to hand her back to you like one of Ozpin’s chess pieces, regardless of what she wants. She chose my tribe, and with my tribe, she will stay.”
“Regardless of the danger it puts the rest of you in?” Jaune asked.
Raven was silent for a moment. “A danger to one is a danger shared by all,” she said. “That is what it means to be part of a tribe. Salem doesn’t know that I have the Spring Maiden, she has no reason to suspect that I have the Spring Maiden… and you’re not going to tell her, are you?”
“Of course not,” Pyrrha replied.
“Then I have nothing to worry about,” Raven said, as she got to her feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
At that moment, the door burst open, and Qrow Branwen staggered in, wielding his sword in one unsteady hand.
He stared at his sister with undisguised hatred in his eyes. “You-”
“Nice to see you too, brother,” Raven said, sounding more amused than concerned. “I take it you’ve seen Yang.”
Qrow was in the tombs beneath the house of Pyrrha Nikos.
He had wandered down there once, if ‘wandered’ wasn't too generous a word for the staggering that he'd been doing. He'd thought the old bat was going to kill him – or try to – when she found him down there in the crypt amongst the sarcophagi, and even Pyrrha had been pretty pissed about it once she found out, for all that she'd tried to hide the fact. He was her guest, but that was her place, a family place; he wasn't welcome there.
Yet there he was again, in the dark underground, surrounded by the bones of dead men and women, resting in their stone beds, their likenesses engraved in rock upon the coffin lids.
They looked as though they were sleeping. They were sleeping on their beds of stone, and only he was awake. Awake, and alone in the darkness and the cold.
Something growled in the blackness. Did they have grimm down there? Was there a beowolf, or an ursa? Qrow reached for his Harbinger, but he couldn't grasp it. It wasn't there. He didn't have his weapon; he must have… where was it? He and his blade were never apart.
Not that it mattered. If there was a grimm down there, he'd take it on with his bare hands.
Or else he wouldn't, and he'd be free of all of this.
The growling grew louder, as though it were coming from many throats instead of one. Many throats in many directions; he was surrounded in the dark.
Yeah, oblivion seemed really inviting right about now.
A light shone in the dark. A bright light of purest white, silencing the growling and the snarling all around him. A light that approached Qrow and, as it approached, revealed itself to be far worse than any grimm that might be lurking down there.
Summer Rose was as she lingered in his memories: a pale figure in a pale cloak, a shining light in the torrid darkness. Her eyes glowed in this gloomy place, glowed with the power to burn away all darkness. As she stared at him, glared at him, Qrow almost felt as though he were being burned away himself.
"Summer," he murmured, "have you brought me here?"
"Me?" Summer asked. "This is your place, Qrow. This is your darkness."
Qrow shook his head, but as he did, one of the nearby sarcophagi caught his eye. He cried out in pain, for instead of one of Pyrrha's ancestors, the person carved into the stone was Summer herself. Frantically, Qrow looked around. All the stone reliefs were transformed: Yang, Oz, Amber, Merida, all the people he'd let down. All the people he'd let die. All the people he'd failed.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, not to Summer but to all of them. "I'm sorry."
"I left my children in your care," Summer accused.
Qrow kept on shaking his head. "They had their father."
"I left my love in your care too," Summer reproached him.
"Oz," Qrow murmured. "What I was doing was important."
"As important as my family?" Summer demanded. "I trusted you to be there for them."
"I was, when they needed me."
"Not when they needed you the most," Summer declared. "Where are my sweet girls, Qrow?"
"One… one is over there," Qrow whimpered, weakly pointing at her tomb.
Summer looked at him sadly. "Qrow," she said. "Qrow. Qrow."
"Uncle Qrow? Uncle Qrow! How could you let him get like this?"
"He didn't exactly give us much of a choice."
Qrow opened his eyes. Summer's face… no, not Summer, that face swam before his eyes for a moment, but it wasn't Summer looking down at him, shaking him by the shoulders where he lay on the floor. It was…
"Yang?" Qrow murmured.
Yang smiled, despite the tears forming in her eyes. "Hey, Uncle Qrow."
"No," Qrow groaned. "No, no, enough already! Let it stop, please!" He reached for the bottle that should have been there next to him, fumbling for it.
"No, Uncle Qrow, you need to stop," Yang insisted. "This isn't a bad dream you're having. I'm right here. I'm right here, and I…" she trailed off, as her tears fell onto his face. "And I'm sorry. I didn't think that… I'm sorry."
Qrow blinked blearily. He scrambled up onto his knees. Yang was kneeling in front of him, while two kids - what were their names? - waited at the door. "I… I'm not dreaming?"
"No," Yang said, shaking her head. "It's me. It's so good to see you again. I missed you."
Qrow grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into a wrenching hug, holding her so tight that he might have crushed her, holding her like he never meant to let her go ever again. "It's good to see you too, firecracker," he cried. "So… so good to see you." He closed his eyes. She wasn't gone. She wasn't gone; she was right there. Summer… Summer, she's alive. "But… how?"
Yang's voice, when it came, was soft. "Raven," she said. "She took me away from the battlefield, to-"
"The tribe," Qrow growled. "You've been with the Branwen tribe this whole time?" He pulled away from Yang, looking her over, looking for signs that Raven had-… he spotted Yang's missing fingers.
Harbinger gleamed invitingly in the corner of the room.
"Uncle Qrow," Yang said, as Qrow rose unsteadily to his feet. "Now hold on a second."
Yang followed her uncle through the doorway. “Uncle Qrow, just calm d-”
“Stay where you are, Yang,” Qrow growled. “I’m going to take care of this.”
Pyrrha got to her feet. “Mister Branwen,” she said, “I can only imagine how hard this must be for you, but-”
“It’s alright, Pyrrha,” Raven said. “He can try and kill me if he wants. I won’t hold it against you.”
Qrow bared his teeth at her like a dog. “Yang isn’t going anywhere with you.”
Raven was unarmed, but she seemed unafraid. “Yang is coming back with me, her family.”
“You are not her family!” Qrow bellowed as he charged at her, swinging his sword. Raven dodged his clumsy swing, ducking back to let the blade swing past her before grabbing Qrow by the wrist and cutting his legs out from underneath him with a savage, sweeping kick. He hit the floor with a thud as Raven pinned him to the ground, his arm twisted behind him.
“Even with your semblance, even if you weren’t several bottles past your limit, you still wouldn’t be able to take me, brother,” Raven mocked.
Qrow growled as he struggled futilely against her grip. “I… I…”
“Look at you,” Raven sneered. “You couldn’t protect Ozpin, you couldn’t protect Beacon, how do you expect to protect Yang?”
“Not… not my…” Qrow muttered, but Pyrrha felt uncomfortably as if she were watching the fight ebb out of him once again. He glanced at Yang, and Pyrrha could see that there were tears forming in his eyes. “Yang,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Qrow,” Yang said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Please… don’t go.”
“I have to,” Yang insisted. “This… the tribe is my home now, and Raven… Raven is my family.”
How much does it hurt you to say that? Pyrrha wondered, her heart going out to Yang. How much does that lie stick in your throat?
“'Family'?” Qrow repeated incredulously. “What… what about Ruby, what about your dad, aren’t they family?”
Yang closed her eyes. It looked to Pyrrha as though she were trying to fight back yet more tears. “Goodbye,” she said, and turned away, choosing. Choosing her mother, or choosing Raven Branwen, at least. Choosing Raven and leaving her uncle – leaving all of them – behind.
Pyrrha lay with her head in Jaune’s lap.
They were still in the drawing room, still on the settee where they had sat when speaking to Raven, when trying to warn her about the danger that Salem posed to her, trying to get her to send the Spring Maiden to them where they could keep an eye on her.
It was the same settee, but now, Pyrrha lay on her side with her head in Jaune’s lap. Her hair was unbound, and Jaune ran his fingers through her rich red locks as she lay curled up like a cat, her legs tucked up and her shoes touching the arm of the sofa.
“I don’t know what is more astonishing,” Pyrrha murmured. “Where Ruby and Sunset are, that Yang is alive, or that she would rather stay with Raven Branwen than with us.”
Jaune was silent for a moment. His fingers moved briefly from her hair to her cheek. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s any reflection on our hospitality. I don't think she feels she has a choice.”
“No,” Pyrrha agreed. “Probably not. Do you think Ruby would forgive us? For letting her go?”
“I think Ruby would be too overjoyed to find out that Yang was alive to be worried too much about anything else,” Jaune replied, “and I think Ruby would understand that there’s no physical way we could have kept Yang out of Raven’s hands, as much as she's hurting her. With her semblance, she could always get to Yang no matter where she was. What do you think they’re doing on the edge of Vale?”
“I’ve no idea,” Pyrrha said. “I just hope they can keep one another safe.”
“They will,” Jaune assured her. “They have to. It’s Ruby and Sunset, right?”
“Yes,” Pyrrha whispered. “It’s Ruby and Sunset.” I just hope that’s enough. She opened her eyes, which had been closed up until now. “I suppose we’ll have to do something about the Spring Maiden… but what, now that the Branwen Tribe have allied with the Kingdom of Mistral?”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Jaune said. “Maybe, if they get in trouble with Salem, we’ll have a good excuse to go to their aid and keep the Spring Maiden out of Salem’s hands. Plus, it will make it difficult for them to use the Rutulians to move against the Branwen tribe either, if that was Salem’s intent.” He paused. “Which reminds me, there’s something else that I need to talk to you about.”
Pyrrha twisted so that she was looking up at him. “There’s more? Hasn’t this night been busy enough?”
“You don’t know the whole of it yet,” Jaune muttered. “You know how Camilla wanted to talk to me?”
“Of course she did,” Pyrrha said, in a voice that was half-groan. “Everything with Yang… it just drove it out of my mind. What did she want?”
“To inform on Salem’s allies to us,” Jaune replied. “She’s not happy about what’s going on in that house.”
Pyrrha blinked and sat up. “Really?”
“You sound a little surprised.”
“I didn’t think she’d ever betray Turnus,” Pyrrha explained.
“She doesn’t see it that way,” Jaune said. “She sees it as protecting them from what they’ve gotten themselves into.”
“I see,” Pyrrha said softly. “What did she tell you?”
“Some of what we already knew, about Chrysalis and Watts,” Jaune said. “Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell me what they were here for, except the Relic; that’s another thing, Lionheart hasn’t told them about the Relic, just that there’s a weapon underneath Haven Academy.”
“So Nora was right: Juturna is not trusted,” Pyrrha said.
“Looks like,” Jaune agreed. “Overall, she didn’t tell me a great deal, but she told me that we might have a friend inside that house if we ever need one. Provided that we don’t hurt Turnus or Juturna.”
“I may not care for Turnus particularly, but I bear him no malice,” Pyrrha said. “I would have no quarrel with him if it weren’t for the company he kept.”
“What about him being King of Mistral?” Jaune asked.
Pyrrha stared at him for a moment. She swung herself completely off his lap so that she was sitting next to him once more. “'King of Mistral'?”
“What he wants,” Jaune explained. “To be king and make Mistral into a second Atlas.”
Pyrrha let out a soft groan. “Of course he does.”
“You don’t approve?”
“Not particularly.”
“I suppose I can see why,” Jaune acknowledged. “But… don’t we have enough battles to fight without picking extra? We came here to defend Mistral and oppose Salem’s forces, not to defend the Council.”
“Except for the part where we are sworn to serve the Steward.”
“So is Turnus, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping him,” Jaune pointed out. “And besides, what if he isn’t planning a takeover with force? What if… what if the people chose him for their king?”
“Then…” Pyrrha hesitated. “Then who am I to stand in his way?” she accepted, for what was the difference between the people choosing a king and electing a councillor, except perhaps that the former could not be got rid of so easily if the people changed their mind?
“This,” she added, “is one of those times when I think you are right. We don’t have the right to decide what will become of the Kingdom of Mistral. I suppose not even Professor Ozpin took that power upon himself. We are here to defend the kingdom so that it can make its choices for itself.”
There was a knock on the door. “Pyrrha?” Swift Foot called from the other side. She sounded a little upset about something. “May I come in? I need to talk to you.”
Pyrrha frowned. “Of course,” she agreed. “Please, enter.”
Swift Foot opened the door and walked in. She moved swiftly, and she looked pale, paler than usual. Her lips were pursed together, and her head was bowed a little. When she opened her eyes, they were watery.
“I… I have a confession to make,” she said.
“'Confession'?” Jaune repeated.
“I… I did not come here… completely honestly,” Swift Foot said. She sped up as the words began to tumble out of her mouth. “My father sent me here to spy on you and to sow discord amongst your company so as to diminish your power. But I will not. I have told my sister Terri-Belle that I will not. I have told her that-”
“Wait,” Pyrrha said, her voice sharp. She got to her feet, and as she rose, she was surprised to feel anger burning within her breast. She had trusted Swift Foot. She had trusted in the honour of a lady of the House of Thrax, a daughter of the Steward, a Mistralian aristocrat. She had trusted Swift Foot, and Swift Foot had betrayed her.
Pyrrha looked down to see a fire burning in the palm of her hand. Swift Foot had noticed it too, and it made her tremble before Pyrrha clenched her fist to extinguish the flame.
Pyrrha’s voice, when she spoke, was like the ice over which she held command. “Your father sent you to spy on me?” she repeated.
Swift Foot nodded unhappily.
“And how much did you tell him?” Pyrrha demanded.
Swift Foot stared at her for a moment. “Everything,” she whispered.
Pyrrha closed her eyes and bit her lip and fought to restrain an eruption of her magic. “I… I see,” she said. “So he knows that I am the Fall Maiden?”
“He does.”
“Why?” Jaune shouted, rising to his feet in turn. “How could you just-?”
“I didn’t know you then,” Swift Foot said defensively. “I only came to know you later, and when I did… when I came to know your courage, your nobility… I have not told my father anything for the past several days. I have not told him anything of note since I told him that you were the Fall Maiden. He asked me to find out more about the magic: how it worked, what other powers there were, how they could be obtained, but… but I didn’t try because…”
“Because?” Pyrrha prodded.
“Because… because you have inspired me,” Swift Foot said, her voice small and tremulous. “You… there are times, my lady, when I still can’t believe you’re real. You have stepped out of the lore and legend of our people, a true lord after the ancient fashion but rendered nobler because you do not seek to rule. You have inspired me to be more than simply my father’s instrument, and so…” She knelt down upon the floor. “If you were to cast me from your house, it would be no more than I deserve, but if you can find mercy in your heart, then I vow, upon whatever honour remains to me, that I will serve you faithfully, now and all my days, until my lady release me or death take me.” She bowed her head. “Use me as you will; my fate is in your hands.”
Pyrrha said nothing. She did nothing. Jaune looked at her expectantly, Swift Foot waited upon her word, but she said nothing.
It took her a moment to find something to say. “You were sent to sow discord amongst the company?”
“I was,” Swift Foot agreed unhappily.
“You… do not seem to have done a particularly good job of it,” Pyrrha observed and hoped it was not too unkind an observation.
Swift Foot snorted. “No, my lady, I did not even attempt it.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Jaune demanded. “You could have just… stopped.”
”I fear my father will reveal the truth to you to spite me,” Swift Foot answered. “I thought it best to tell you first.”
“So when we talked about Pyrrha’s ambitions-”
“I was getting a feel for how you felt and how Pyrrha felt,” Swift Foot acknowledged. “I am sorry.”
Jaune nodded. “So, what did you think?”
Swift Foot hesitated. “I thought… I think… how absurdly ironic it is that you, Pyrrha, are both the person who could most easily seize power in this city and the only person of note and rank who does not want to.”
Pyrrha looked at Jaune, into his eyes. She had the feeling that he already knew how she would respond and was resigned to it even if he disagreed with her.
It’s not as if we haven’t forgiven more that was confessed to us much later.
She took a step forward. “Rise, Swift Foot,” she said, “and thank you for being honest with me.”
Swift Foot looked at her, a look that verged on awe in her eyes.
“You mean-”
“You are skilled with the sword,” Pyrrha said, “and Mistral can use all the skilled swords that it can muster. Perhaps… perhaps this is all part of some incredibly clever plot on your part, but I cannot see it, and for that reason… I believe you. It is a pity that your father is aware of what I am, but… I suppose that my arrogance in standing aloof from the Council for so long is partly to blame for the suspicion in which I am held. Can you tell me something of your father in turn?”
“Anything,” Swift Foot said.
“What does he think of me now?”
Swift Foot sighed. “I fear he yet desires your destruction; he will fear you so long as you have power.”
“I see,” Pyrrha murmured. I was afraid of that. “Unfortunately-”
“Begging your pardon, Lady Pyrrha,” the interruption came from Iris, one of the Nikos family maids, as she walked deferentially into the room. “I apologise for the interruption, but Lord Rutulus is at the gate, asking to speak with you urgently.”