Maidens and Mystics - Part III

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A week later he and Pyrrha were back in Vale yet again, though unlike last time they weren't at a pizza place for dinner. Instead, in the middle of the school day so the girls would be gone for obvious reasons, they'd gone to see his parents. A simple Scroll call to his father a week earlier had, with enough explanation on what had gone on for the last few weeks or so, been enough to get him to fly into the city. An equally simple call to Ozpin, who had given them a personal number for their promise of support, had gotten them cleared from classes as well. Although he demanded they keep up with the assigned readings and keep high grades, to avoid suspicion Jaune assumed, the man seemed willing to grant them favors like excusing them from classes for 'training exercises ahead of the Festival'.

"Since you so kindly agreed to help us, if anything should happen, that is." The man had reiterated, ensuring Jaune never forgot that these 'favors' were expected to be paid back. Jaune had agreed without much worry on the matter, since he knew the worst was behind them.

Or at least, as far as he could tell, the worst was behind them.

The girls away at class, he and his partner settled into the dining room with his parents, a trio of pizzas between them lending the room a comforting smell. The kind of homey, familiar comfort that something as simple as a pizza dinner could manage. Small comfort, to be sure, but any comfort was welcome when they had so much to get through. And so much holding the weight that it did, too.

"The Vision wasn't one I was looking for, but from what I remember in my studies, that is normal." Visions, Instructor had told him, tended to come suddenly and without warning. Except to those adept at the kinds of sensitivity that played into them, and educated in the training needed to pursue them. "But it was one of death. A bowshot, a question, and then pain. Like I'd been shot in the heart."

"My death, in fact. Or so we expected, at least, given… Certain aspects of things." Pyrrha explained, voice only the slightest bit anxious at the admission. Whether they believed it to be safeguarded against or not, a death sentence was still a death sentence. Whatever she felt for it, though, she hid in taking a drink. Quietly, she admitted, "It feels quite liberating, to no longer be covered by that shadow…"

"I'll bet you are, girl." His father grunted, tapping his thumb around a can of beer. Not his favorite drink but one his nerves needed, apparently, as soon as Jaune mentioned the Force and 'even more complicated shit', as his father had phrased it. Shaking his head the Huntsman sighed tireadly in the way of the world weary, "All this nonsense with the Force… It's useful, but so damn complicated."

"Isn't everything useful also complicated?"

"Swords ain't." The man chuckled, pointing a finger at him and smiling under his grey streaked beard, "And I mean real swords. Not your magic laser stick."

Pyrrha choked a laugh around her pizza that only added to Jaune's laughing. She glared at them petulantly over the rim of her glass of water, but that only really made it funnier to the three of them. Once her throat was clear she grunted, petulantly, "You are all of you villains. But of course you already know that."

"Hey now, young lady. I will have you know I resemble that remark." His mother chuckled, the Mistralian champion only rolling her eyes at the statement. Chuckling, his mother turned and retrieved her a bottle of water to replace the glassful she had practically drowned in to clear her coughing fit. Playfully slapping her husband's shoulder she smiled and added, "And you need to stop trying to kill my son's partner."

"Thank you, Missus Arc." Pyrrha smiled, taking a drink from the bottle.

"At least until I have some grandbabies out of them." That sent Pyrrha into another choking fit, this time flushed and flailing as well. Beside her, Jaune could only his his face behind a hand and sigh. He'd known she would start on him eventually after having seen Pyrrha and, really, he was just grateful it had taken as long as it had. Hiding her laugh at both their reactions behind a hand, the woman waved their concerns off, "Oh please. Everyone with access to the 'net knows how often partner pairs end up an item. Unless one of you is gay, that is."

"We're not- I mean there's nothing wrong with being gay, of course, but-" Flushed and pleading, the Mistralian turned green eyes on him pleadingly, silently begging him for help. When he grinned teasingly, she went even more still and, weakly, asked, "J-Jaune?"

"C'mon, mother, be nice to my partner." He asked, smiling disarmingly and ignoring Pyrrha's anxious look at the insincere tone to his voice. Smiling even wider, and more mischievously, he added, "I haven't even gotten around to asking her out on a proper date, yet. At least save the baby demands until after that."

Face as red as her hair, the Mistralian opened her mouth to protest. All that escaped, though, was a keening little whining sound. Laying her forehead against the table beside her plate, she gestured for them to continue and practically moaned dramatically, "You all hate me anyway, t'would seem, so go ahead. Take from me all your amusement."

"I don't think amusement is what we want from you…" Pyrrha only groaned, though she exuded happiness when he opened himself to the tides of the Force.

Had she been putting out anything other than happiness and contentment, he'd have come to her rescue. But once the initial embarrassment had worn off, it seemed, she had come to enjoy the teasing his parents levied, for whatever reason she did. Instead of saving her from his predatory parents he laughed with his father for a long moment. After, they fell into a comfortable silence for a while, simply eating their pizza and exchanging idle questions about classes, missions and the like.

It was peaceful for a long time, being able to just waste time talking about nothing.

"How are Saph and Terra doing?" He finally asked, taking the pizza box when his mother slid it to him and methodically ripping it to pieces to throw away. At a raised eyebrow and silent question from his partner he explained, "My sister and her girlfriend-"

"Wife." His mother corrected, smiling, "You're too forgetful, Jaune. They are married now, don't forget."

"Wife," he corrected with a roll of his eyes, "my sister and her wife. Terra works for Atlas now…?" His father nodded and he mirrored the gesture. "Terra works for Atlas, at a CCT relay buffer in Argus. She takes care of Saph, lets her not have to worry so much about money, working from home on her computer."

"She served in our militia, back in Ansel." His father added, once again tapping a rhythm out with his finger. This time on the table, rather than his drink, but the same rhythm. Odd enough that he gave his mother a look, getting little more than a sad smile and a shrug from her for it. "After Jaune… Well, you know all about it, I suppose, don't you?"

"He told me, yes." She nodded, voice quiet but light. Respectfully sad, but tempered by the positivity of earlier. Bowing her head in reverence and respect, she recalled, "She fought in the militia because searching for my partner took much. And in the last battle after his return, she was… Wounded, in the permanent way."

"Dismembered you mean." His wife bapped him on the head for his brusk joking and Jaune's father flinched, face pinched in pretend pain and surprise. He gave her a look and she gave him one in turn, brows raised and head cocked to the side in a clear challenge. Sighing, the man gave up, and nodded. "Yes, she was. Lost her arm to a Grimm just a tick before this one," he pointed to Jaune, "lost his shit and basically annihilated them all."

"And a few of ours too, father." His lack of control and the chaos had made it unavoidable and painful in equal measure.

"Yeah." The man nodded, pursing his lips for a moment and watching him. Finally, he offered, "Most of 'em had families, you know. Don't," he cut in when Jaune looked up, eyes hard, "interrupt. They wanted me to tell you that they don't blame you. Explained it as your Semblance, same as always, but they understood. You went berserk. Happens with some fighters, some Semblances."

"Doesn't make it okay…"

"No, but it makes it understandable." Pyrrha offered, turning in her chair to lay a hand on his forearm. "And you didn't detail that you killed allies in a state, Jaune. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Pyr." It had been a long enough time now and he understood as well as the rest of them that he hadn't been able to control himself. Better training and stricter control was the answer there, not self doubt and self hatred. He didn't pull his arm away, though, letting her offer her comfort. "You all don't have to worry, I studied on what could happen when someone rushes through training and loses their control. The Path of Balance teaches control and discipline, and what happened in Ansel is why."

"So long as you are alright…" He nodded and his mother smiled, raising a brow and opting for a shift in conversation. Smiling, she purred, "And my but you two seem close. Don't they, dear?"

"Yeah." He smiled under his beard, fishing out a black Lien card, "Hundred Lien says by the end of the year."

"Oh you're on." The woman answered, standing and moving to a little jar on the counter with his Lien and a black card of her own. She stuck both in and set it back, smiling and adding a green one, "And I have fifty that we hear something by Festival's end."

"What are they betting on?" Pyrrha whispered to him, the blonde snorting at the question.

"How long until we either get married or get a kid." He sighed, smirking when the woman flushed and made a strange sound caught between a squawk and a 'what'. While she flailed and flushed, stammering denials and then hiding in a slice of pizza, he stood and moved towards the sink, "I'll get to the dishes, mother. Least I can do since you bought the pizza."

"Oh didn't you hear?" She smiled, watching him set the sink and reach for the soap. While he worked and she cleaned the table, she went on, "Headmaster Ozpin hired your father for security, for the Festival. Once he heard he was coming to town, anyway."

"Yeah." The man grunted, standing and stretching with his back to the blonde dishwasher. The only reason he didn't see Jaune's shoulders stiffen when he finished, "Old bastard said to put everything in a bill and he'd pay it back. Asked for a limit and he said, to quote, 'don't worry about a thing, Beacon will cover it' and then told me to thank you. You workin' for him, too, my boy?"

"Yeah." Jaune murmured, "You could say that."

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"I finished the review process you asked of me." Ironwood said as the elevator opened and Ozpin led him into his wide, circular office.

"And what did you find, General?" His friend asked as he sat, setting his thermos and mug on the table. Ironwood stood across from him, hand resting on the revolver on his waist idly, and Ozpin smiled. Accepting the file Ironwood slid across the table, "Your arm is hurting today, is it?"

"...It is."

"You always rest your arm's weight on your revolver, to keep it from hanging, when it aches." Ozpin explained, closing the file and standing, coming around the table to the General's side and gesturing with a finger for him to turn around. He did so and Ozpin laid a hand on his shoulder, sighing, "I am not so powerful as I once was, I'm afraid. But I can at least…"

"Hng..." Ironwood stiffened as a frigid heat, contrary as the sensation was, rushed through him from the connection of flesh and metal and down his spine. As it went in the pain worsened to a throb that raced with his heartbeat. As it came out of the connections of steel and flesh, all along his body, the pain went with it and he sighed. "That is… Magic? You are using magic?"

"Indeed." Ozpin answered, sighing and stepping away. Ironwood turned back to him in time to see him sag and catch himself on the edge of his desk. "I am fine," he grunted when Ironwood made to help him, pushing off the desk a moment later and straightening his shirt, "using healing magic merely… Disorients me, for the briefest moment."

"I see." Though the man seemed able to very quickly collect himself, walking normally back around to retake his seat. Rolling his shoulder he blinked and nodded, "It feels far better, Oz. Thank you very much."

"Of course." The man smiled, opening the folder again and starting to skim through it. After a few minutes he sighed and shook his head, closing the folder and tossing it onto the table in aggravation. "Nothing. No archers who use glass-like arrows and no archers with black hair, either."

"At least among the student transfers there are not, no." There was one young woman listed that had black hair and could use glass weapons, but she favored using it for traps and brawling in melee. Not an archer, then. Sighing and noting that his leg no longer ached, Ironwood took the seat opposite the man and smiled, feeling more amicable than he had before. "I was going to stand for my sore hip, but you saw to that well enough, my friend."

"Indeed. And I am glad I was able to help you, my friend. Especially given why you have those cybernetics in the first place." Ozpin sighed, though, distracted for very understandable reason by their lack of headway. Drumming a finger on the desk he asked, as James had expected him to next, "What about our young guardian candidate? Anything out of sorts in her Scroll history?"

"Aside from some cursory White Fang searches?" Ozpin gave him a look and he waved it off, shaking his head. "Not the kind to be worried about, really. She's been known to monitor the White Fang and given her parentage and history…"

"Idle interest and a guilty conscience." And Brothers but Ozpin sounded happy about her having a guilt ridden conscience. Which, in truth, he probably was. Their approach to speaking to her had been angled around her history, after all.

"Indeed." He nodded, moving on when the man nodded for him to do so. "She's also been… Researching old fables and fairy tales. For completely understandable reasons as well. There was a search on the cost to sail to Menagerie, as well, but she purchased no tickets and our monitors report she has not asked her parents for any or taken any out herself."

"Simply reviewing her options, then." Ozpin nodded, pleased by his report that she wasn't about to actually run. Looking at escape routes from a distance was a far cry from taking them. Or from preparing to. With a shrug, Ozpin dismissed the fears and pressed on, offering a simple, "Well, some panic is to be expected I suppose. So long as she believes this the best way to atone for her part in the White Fang's radicalization to violence we should have a loyal Maiden safe and sound here in Beacon."

'And under your thumb, of course.' Ironwood didn't point out, merely allowing himself the smallest of frowns and nodding. He disliked the methodology but to his mind, a terrorist was as good a target for it as any. "Beyond what little I have found, she hasn't told anyone anything about what was said. At least, not through electronic channels."

"Letters, maybe?"

"She's sent none from Beacon and not gone to Vale since hearing what we had to say. And," he added, because he knew Ozpin would want to know, "neither has Mister Arc or Miss Nikos. Though they are in Vale today. With your special permissions to excuse them from classes, as well."

"Keeping useful allies satisfied is a trick of diplomacy, my friend. And letting two high performing students have days out of class isn't the worst of favors I would be willing to grant to keep them on-side." Ozpin explained, drumming idly on the table and then picking up his mug to take a long drink of. And, he suspected, to buy himself time to think. Finally, he asked, "Are you aware of the story behind Mister Arc's rather miraculous survival and return home?"

"I have heard the gist." And forgotten most of it, unfortunately. Skilled and good at retaining information he might be, but even he forgot things sometimes.

"Well, according to the official story, he and his father were training in the forest near Ansel. Normally rather safe. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, a pack of Grimm had just wandered into the territory." Ironwood could only really grimace in sympathy. Such bad luck, and Qrow wasn't even around? The poor boy. Smiling, though, Ozpin continued, "According to young Mister Arc, he ran. For miles and miles, outpacing or losing the Beowolves on his tail and eventually being rescued by a sailing merchant. One who would not and could not return to the continent for several years, hence his time away."

"Where did he spend those years?"

"Near Mistral, apparently." Ozpin answered, raising an eyebrow at the suspicion in his tone. Smiling and speaking in that condescending tone he so often fell into when someone walked into the same conclusion he did, he asked, "My dear general, do you suspect something?"

"Yes." He nodded, "And I suspect you do, too."

"I suspect a great deal, yes. A great deal, and a lot of it being to our benefit if it is the case. Though, whether it is the case is hard to establish" What it was, though, Ozpin didn't offer. As always he seemed a man entirely content to keep to his own devices, and not play too many cards he didn't need to play. Instead he asked, "Did you know I haven't found one iota of evidence that he ever visited Mistral? Or even the continent it's on?"

"No." He hadn't shared it, of course. Instead of complaining, though, he simply murmured, "That's odd, though. How could that be if he was there, though? Surely someone would know something. Even just a little bit. His rescuer, maybe?"

"There's no sign of him either, General. Him, his trading ship, his caravan… No sign of anyone rescuing and caring for a Valean blonde boy inside the last decade that I can find." Ozpin answered simply, smiling when Ironwood's brow furrowed. Taking a deep breath the man turned to do as he typically did, and watch an Atlesian ship drift by. One of only the handful the Valean council had told him he could bring, on the heel of the White Fang's eerie silence of late. Finally, he asked, "Would you like to look into it as well?"

"I will." He could task a handful of his reconnaissance specialists to search for information, at least. "And the White Fang as well. After everything that's happened, their silence is… Not comforting."

"Indeed. And good luck to both ends, too." The man nodded and Ironwood stood, taking the unsaid cue to leave and get to work.

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It had taken two days of Blake's sleeplessness and clear anxiety before Yang had said something. The Faunus had simply stepped into the offered hug, a warning sign in and of itself, and told her she was fine. Just studying up on things she'd fallen behind on, with her weird and messed up last few years. And when Yang had tried to argue that she very clearly was not alright, Blake had shut her down. Simply smiled, asked Yang to trust her, and turned to leave. And with a choice to butt in and piss her off, or trust her and leave her to potentially wallow, Yang had been forced between rock and sharper rock.

Eventually, though, she'd agreed to trust her and let her be.

At the end of two more days of it, though, Weiss had forced her hand. Dragging them to their dorm she'd shoved them both in and snapped, "Whatever this is, figure out what's wrong. Before I tied you both up and send you to counseling."

"What kind…?"

"Yes." Was her only answer, slamming their dorm door shut and very loudly stomping off.

After that, it had taken them an hour to get to the matter at hand. At first, Blake had ignored her entirely, simply sitting on her bunk with her chin on her knees and her arms around her shins, hugging her legs. At the end of the hour, though, she'd realized how serious Weiss was about them not leaving. The reason being that Ruby had arrived, carrying two pizzas and with her head scrunched into her shoulders, for them to have their lunch.

With that nail in the coffin, and once Ruby left again, Blake finally started to talk.

And what a veritable fountain of shit that pissed her off did Blake turn out to be. Finally, with Blake on the verge of tears, Yang sat beside her and pulled her into a hug. Blake leaned into it, head on her chest, and Yang asked, "Want me to kick their asses for you?"

"One is your uncle, two are high ranking politicians with armies, and one is Goodwitch." Blake pointed out quietly, voice strained enough her heart ached. "I think you'd lose."

"Maybe, but it'd be a show." She nodded and amended herself slightly, "So, want me to try and kick their asses for you?"

"No, thank you. I appreciate your willingness to go to war with Atlas for me, though." Blake managed to chuckle but even that sounded distant and tired. Weak, in the way someone over stressed and low on rest could sound.

Instead, the woman curled into Yang more, so much so she sat essentially in her lap with her head on her chest. If Blake realized how they were sitting she didn't say, and neither did Yang, content to lean back against the wall and be the anchor. For a long time that was all there was to it, too. Yang anxiously holding the woman essentially in her lap, smelling her hair and watching her ears flick cutely every time she breathed. Which, all in all, was just long enough for Yang to panic about things that she really didn't want to panic about. And which she couldn't do anything about anyway, with her priority on Blake and the literal magic nonsense.

Because fuck Yang Xiao Long, apparently.

Finally, though, Blake broke the silence, "What should I do, Yang?"

"I don't know, Kitty Cat." The blonde answered with a beleaguered sigh, at least glad they were speaking so she could focus on something not lavender scented. "Part of me wants to tell you to tell 'em to fuck theirselves. Part of me thinks you should do it. Be the hero, you know?"

"Yeah…"

"But, like… I have a dead hero in my life already." Summer's loss had left her a bit more jaded than she otherwise might have been, and she knew that. But Blake had asked her opinion and she was damn well going to get it. Chuckling dryly she added, "And, you know, I don't exactly fancy dying myself either. Or dragging Ruby into a mess like this."

"You wouldn't have to die." Blake argue, not moving from her position still. "I could-"

"You even imply you would fuck off and carry this alone and I will bend you over my knee." That Blake could easily escape any hold Yang tried on her went unsaid, of course. Instead, the Faunus only nodded and Yang sighed. "We're a team, Blake. Family, or I hope we will be. You get into this, you know damn well that we'll all have your back."

"Alright, so…" Blake sighed, "So we tell Weiss and Ruby?"

"Your secret, hon." Yang shrugged, the action shifting Blake's head and earning a whispered complaint for the movement. "But want my opinion?" Blake nodded, and Yang sighed, "I think it's a good thing to tell 'em. They're in danger if you do this, and it's probably the right thing to do so your crazy ass probably will, so they should know before something happens."

"…Alright." Blake sighed, pushing off the woman and turning, sitting on the edge of the bed and straightening her hair. "I… We'll ask them, and see what they want to do."

Yang already knew what would happen, asking Ruby if she wanted to be the hero. Ruby would say they should do it, and Weiss would probably agree for all she wanted to redeem her family name. With two people on board, Blake would cave, if Ruby herself wouldn't be enough on her own to do it. And Yang?

Well, Yang was just along for the ride, she supposed.

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Come afternoon the two bade their farewells to his parents and began the walk back to the Bullhead landing, cast in the chilly shade of the city wall's shadow. It was quiet and peaceful, and they turned for a scenic route through a sparsely populated park to enjoy it. Some saw them and gossiped as they passed by, or snapped pictures of Pyrrha in hew school uniform or, for the tabloids, them on their 'date'. A couple fans even stopped them to anxiously ask for her autograph, which the girl was happy enough to give.

Finally, though, he spoke, "You know, you could say no to the autographs."

"It makes them happy and takes me but a moment. Why would I deny them such happiness for mere convenience?" She responded, shrugging simply and sighing as they reached a bench and she sat. He sat beside her and, for a while, they watched the autumn leaves fall. A sight that, laced with past anxiety as it was, still managed to be beautiful. At last she spoke, "You know, having all this over my head… It's put a lot into perspective."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "It used to be that all I cared for was being seen for me, rather than my past titles and wealth."

"I mean, it makes sense." Gods only knew how many people had heckled him over his 'dark and mysterious past' or however else the crazy bastards wanted to put it. Some were earnestly interested, other looking for a scoop, but all were annoying in their various ways. "Why do you mention it?"

"Because all of this… Fear and anxiety, it's made me think. About a lot of things. Things I've seen and done, and things I haven't." She pursed her lips and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and twiddling her thumbs anxiously. Quietly, she admitted, "I've never even been on a real date, you know."

"My parents were-"

"Joking." Pyrrha cut in, turning to smile at him and then turning back to watch the leaves fall. "I know. But… But it made me think about it. About us. Our relationship, weird and shadowed as it has been. Your priority for weeks has been protecting me. Why?"

"I care about you." He answered instantly, not even needing to consider the question.

"I know." They'd been through it enough, several times in fact, for her to know how much he valued her. Taking a breath and practically gushing anxiety into the emptiness around them she sighed and pressed herself to ask, "But my question is… Is do you think that caring could be more than simple friendship?"

"Maybe." He answered, assuming she didn't mean the 'more' of being partners. That they already had and went without saying.

"Then… Tomorrow?" She asked, turning to give him a look and chewing her lip. Jaune raised an eyebrow in question and, tapping her foot anxiously, she asked, "A, um, a movie maybe? Dinner too? Only if you want to try something, you know… You know what I mean."

"As in…?"

"A date, darn it." She finally, quietly squeaked, face as red as her hair. Swiftly, she devolved from her more normal and refined way of speaking into anxious babbling, desperate to get it over with. "I am- I am asking you on a date tomorrow. Dinner, movie, us. Yes, maybe? Unless, um, you don't want to in which case, no?"

"Sure." He murmured, as bemused as he was excited and caught off guard. "Dinner and a movie sounds like a nice way to blow off steam."

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(Review Responses)

Maldevinine :

Genuinely glad you liked it. XD

Astute (Guest) :

Their concerns aren't the TRUE concerns, though. Sure, a Maiden, shielded by a Hardlight Dust barrier, could decimate enemy forces. But in reality, they fear Salem getting the power. Once she has one she could very well continue forcing it to transition to new Maidens under her power. Winter, for instance, would give them sole access to the thing keeping Atlas floating. Spring would control information, keeping the Relic of Knowledge sealed away. And I needn't explain why Salem having access on a whim, and Grimm incursion, to the Relic of Destruction.

But they can't say THIS to them.

Hirshja :

They did, as seen here. But why call it out? You call someone out and you force them into a corner. Better to use the slip of information - that he cares about an archer - to their own ends, however they can, and not push away potential allies.

Zenith Tempest :

Ozpin cares about one thing regarding the Maidens he chooses. Control. He can guilt Blake into staying under his. Her flaws play to his benefit, the same as Pyrrha's. Further as a support fighter - Blake ain't weak, she's a support, big difference - she already by design stays out of the worst danger. Which prolongs her lifespan, theoretically.

Also, I… Haven't decided who is Force sensitive or not, or the Maiden end-point. Been letting the pieces fall as they may. The Blake reveal was the last hard concrete to my plan, for now, though I intend to plan further over the next chapter cycle. >.>

Argus :

About that 'last line of defence' thing. >.>

Smokey Panda :

I mean, is forcing incredible power into someone at gunpoint a GOOD plan? She can just sky taser you for it after the fact.

Yavin Yams :

Unspecified by design, though I have seeded a handful of hints throughout the story I am waiting for people to catch. Some obvious, like the talk about the all of Revanism setting it AFTER KOTOR 1 at least, and others less so. See if you can find 'em~

Lunchables Pizza :

Ah, but Pyrrha doesn't know they are guilting Blake.