#Remnants of RWBY: Fanworks Exchange | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kinaesthetiqueer · 1 year ago

Text

What These Hands Can Be

Rating: G

Words: 7,174

Pairing: Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos

Characters: Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, minor Nora, Ren, RWBY, Oscar, Ozpin, Theodore, & Rumpole

Other Tags: Post Volume 9, set in Vacuo, alternating POV

Summary: Pyrrha barely knows what to do with her hands these days. She's been gone so long that everything, and everyone, is so different now. Even Jaune. Especially Jaune.

Author's note: My gift for @ssarkosghost for @remnants-of-rwby-exchange! I am so sorry that is a day late; please forgive me. I went to edit and accidentally added 3k... It is in its entirety below but the AO3 link will be by chapters.

gloved

Pyrrha spends a lot of time looking at her hands now.

Her nails are often chipped, bitten. When she was young, her mother had her wear gloves to curb the habit. They were just thick enough to keep her from nibbling the thin keratin to ragged edges. Mittens helped protect her young hands from bitter Argus winters when she wanted to build snowmen at the park. Garden gloves kept dirt from gathering under her nails as she worked alongside her mother in the tiny flowerbed their townhouse called its own. As she grew older, darker pairs helped to camouflage the tell-tale glow of her semblance in use, carefully hiding her critical advantage. Gloves, for one reason or another, have followed her throughout her life.

The desert is too hot for them.

Without them, Vacuan sands and wind roughen her palms beyond belief. Her callouses toughen, her fingertips thicken, and her palms crack, no matter how much moisturizer she applies after showers. There are other ways to minimize the damage, but to keep one’s aura shield engaged all the time outdoors was one of many marks of an outsider. Pyrrha shrinks at the thought of attracting even more attention.

Most people don’t recognize her these days anyway. Pyrrha runs her hands through her ponytail, much shorter than she remembers. It had been like when she’d emerged from the glowing golden portal, blinking and confused, stepping into what appeared to be a war room meeting of her closest friends and many unfamiliar adults.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Pyrrha had whispered into the silence, rubbing her throat. Her bare feet made little plap plap sounds on the cool sandstone as she took a few unsteady steps forward before stopping just out of reach of the closest person- a young, wide-eyed boy she didn’t recognize.

The portal shrunk, fizzled, and faded into oblivion while she struggled to remember why she’d just stepped into their midst. She fidgeted with the ends of her sash in her hands. Still, the urge to rub her throat remained, as if she needed to warm her voice box before speaking any more.

The crying and screaming broke the silence first- Nora’s shrieks, Ruby’s choked sobs, Yang’s cracking voice. Then came the questions- Blake’s skepticism, Ren’s disbelief, Weiss’ caution.

Are you really Pyrrha?

Oh, of that, she was positively sure.

What happened to you?

She had died, that was somewhat evident by the scar tissue that twisted and stretched beneath the fabric of her loose linen dress and the horrifying memory of searing heat. Ruby had nearly vomited on the spot at her halting recollection of her death, gaze pinned to the [place that Pyrrha massaged at her collar.

Where have you been?

That question haunts her, even now, a little over two weeks later.

One year, eleven months, three weeks, and five days. The number rolled off Nora’s tongue quicker than it had any right to, but with such fury and despair that no one questioned its accuracy. That was how long it had been since the Fall of Beacon, since she’d been gone, how long she’d been dead to her friends. It’s a massive amount of time to be unaccounted for and unexplainably absent. It had taken a woman Pyrrha had never met to get them to all finally believe that she was herself, that she wasn’t some trick of the enemy or especially vivid group hallucination.

It was when she’d taken Robyn Hill’s hand that she had first noticed she was no longer wearing her gloves. Robyn was wearing fingerless ones, much like Nora’s, but black. Robyn’s grip was firm, her soft smile reassuring.

“Just tell the truth,” she said.

There was not, and still is not, much to tell.

She’d died. There was nothing. Then there was golden light and they were staring at her. She was herself. She was alive. She didn’t know why her hair was cut or why she had a sash that should be ash, just as much as she should. She answered question after question until they sort of devolved into a distressed, hopeful argument about her existence.

At that point, with the truth told and nothing more for either of them to do, Robyn helped her sit in an extra chair to watch the proceedings. The action of sitting only made her realize how exhausted she was by the affair, even if she wanted nothing more than to be accepted into their fold again.

That being said, the results of their argument mattered little. Instead, Pyrrha finally dared to look over to the one person, out of friends and strangers, that had yet to say a word.

Jaune?

He stared at her, blue eyes wide. His hair was cut in an unfamiliar way and streaked with white that she didn’t remember. The lines around his eyes spoke to an age that shouldn’t be possible, but his haunted expression was more than just seeing his old partner back from the dead. That expression spoke volumes, though he did not.

“Hey,” Jaune says now, knocking on her open door “You ready to go?”

Pyrrha looks up from the creases in her palms, the unbroken lifelines and calloused fingertips, the bare nails and chapped knuckles. The tanned skin there is some of the only exposed skin she has. The rest of her is covered in brown, sheer compression arm and leg sleeves, a burgundy athletic romper, copper vambraces and greaves, and long boots and UV goggles, both suited for the sand. Her sash flows to her calves as she stands and reaches for Mellon and Tora, bringing them to her side with just a thought.

Her red gaiter hugs her neck, making it difficult for her to reach up and massage her throat. Jaune nods and turns into the hallway without a second thought though, so it’s not as if he needs to hear her say anything.

Pyrrha pulls the fabric up over her nose and follows Jaune without a word.

2. clenched

Pyrrha is dead.

Three words, one truth. Through the past years, it’s the one thing he has forced himself to believe and remember, despite the pain it causes. He had promised to fight in her memory, to do what she would have done. The tattered remnants of her extra sash always hug his waist, taut when he twists or bends and flaring out when he leaps or falls. Its flowing length reminds him that its owner lost her battle so that he might win a war. Isn’t that the truth of it? Such things are unchanging, immutable. Decades to reckon with that truth and now here it is undone, just as surely as his aching bones and rusted armor.

Pyrrha is back, Jaune thought when she stepped out of the glowing portal. Pyrrha is… alive?

Her bright green eyes, darting with uncertainty and anxiety, were as expressive as ever. Her hair was shorter, though still a ponytail in that same brilliant red. Her crown was absent, though its charms hung from her ears. With the white linen dress and her sash wrapped around her waist, she looked a bit mismatched, contrasting youth with a world weary frown he often saw in the mirror.

Two weeks and three days ago.

Jaune’s own tally picks up where Nora’s left off.

He can hear Pyrrha’s footsteps behind him as he winds his way through the cool hallways of the Shade Academy dorms. Her footsteps don’t sound like he remembers them, less assured. He tries not to listen and focuses on finding the way out. Another quirk of Shade was a particular aversion to exit signage; early on, it was helpful to stick with some of the other students, whether those from Vacuo or those who chose to attend Shade after the Fall. Now he’s that person for Pyrrha, leading her to the open common area that exits to the main campus.

I bet Pyrrha could probably just use a compass to get out.

His chuckle dies in his throat. No longer is it a hypothetical. What once might have been a bittersweet thought is a plausible reality.

Pyrrha is alive. She’s right there. Right behind me.

His thoughts echo her name relentlessly, a plea, a prayer, a petition. It’s caught between his ears in a way that he can’t force it past his lips.

It’s a trick. It’s just another trick- Jaune swallows, closing his eyes briefly to steady himself. In his mind’s eye, he can see Pyrrha behind him, cruel joy in her emerald eyes, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. He can almost feel the pain of Miló slicing through the gaps in his armor again.

No, it’s not. She’s here. We both are.

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and exhales. He hears Pyrrha step around him, approach his left side, and take a deep breath of her own.

“You… didn’t actually explain… what are we supposed to be doing?” Pyrrha murmurs, brushing against his side. The gesture can’t be more than an accident but suddenly it feels like every eye in the common area is on him and her, together.

He sidesteps, awkwardly covering the flinch by heading toward the doors again. He does remember the stilted text he’d sent; it’d taken nearly three hours to compose it.

> Need you ready for combat in fifteen. I’ll come by your room.

“Oh yeah, right. Headmaster Theodore got a transmission from a couple of miles out that a relay tower was damaged badly by the windstorm last night. He wants you to clear and organize the metal before someone actually fixes it.”

Jaune times his shove of the door with the end of his explanation and hopes that Pyrrha will not ask the obvious question. They step into the hot afternoon sun. Jaune squints, but Pyrrha just lowers her goggles over her eyes. She looks even more Vacuan than some of the townsfolk. While the so-called Beacon Brigade students, like teams CFVY and SSSN had to earn their respect at the ‘Skirmish of Shade’ and Jaune and RWBY came upon their respect with their efforts in Atlas and beyond, Pyrrha managed to curry the favor of a fair number of Vacuans simply through her sacrifice at Beacon. Her new outfit, her weapons, even her rudimentary scroll- they were all gifts from local shops. In a way, she belongs to this desert kingdom more than anything or anyone else.

“Jaune?”

He flinches too hard to hide it this time, but her expression is unreadable.

“Yeah?” Jaune swallows bitter bile, waiting for the inevitable question.

“Where are we going?”

We. Right.

“West, out of the city. Come on, we’ll be faster on the rooftops.” Jaune heads for the closest wall gate, desperate to leave his thoughts behind him.

“Jaune, please accompany Pyrrha on this mission,” Oscar had asked simply this morning in Theodore’s office. Before that, Jaune had been unsure why he had been summoned; Oscar’s text had very few details. Probably because he would have already been walking in the other direction, soulless desert be damned, if he’d known what these three had planned.

Headmaster Theodore, Professor Rumpole, and Oscar- yes, actually Oscar, judging by the slightly guilty expression- watched him expectantly.

“A squall came through last night and the Western relay node has gone offline; we need the wind damage cleared before we can actually repair it,” Theodore explained further. “That’s where you come in. I’ve sent coordinates to your scroll. Clear the debris and report back.”

Jaune casually adjusted the straps of his chest plate, trying to conceal the hitch in his breathing. “Oh, well, I was supposed to-”

“Xiao Long has been reassigned to a different mission with her teammate Schnee. Mr. Daichi and Ms. Scarlatina are handling your original mission,” Professor Rumpole raised an eyebrow up at him. “You’re clear to help your partner with this.”

“I mean, sure, but what about back up?” Jaune swallowed, nervous. “I’m sure Nora would love to help! They’ve been pretty close, right? Oh, or Ren! Grimm have been really nasty in that part of the desert, yeah? Wouldn’t it be better if-”

“If her partner stopped avoiding her?” Rumpole finished, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “We’re spread too thin to have full teams on small jobs.”

The room was silent for a moment.

Professor Rumpole wasn’t quite as terrifying as Professor Goodwitch, but eventually, he still looked away.

“Fine. We’ll get it done,” he muttered, already turning to go. He could see Oscar making a face out of the corner of his eye. Good, he could stand to feel a little guilty about it. There’s no doubt this was his idea.

I don’t want to… not yet.

“What’s the problem here? Stop spitting into the wind!” Theodore retorted, standing from his chair, pressing his gloved hands to his desktop and peering at Jaune. “Didn't you miss her?”

He froze, a wave of rage passing through him. He clenched his teeth and fists as the feeling filled every crevice of his soul and simmered into a boil. Then, just as quickly, the wave receded, drawing back until he was hollow once more.

“Of course, sir.” Jaune turned and left without another word.

It’s not as if anyone else would understand.

3. hesitant

Jaune leaps from rooftop to rooftop, with his only objective seeming to be to get out of the city in the westward direction. By the time Pyrrha’s moisture wicking underclothes have soaked up a gallon of sweat, they’re finally on the outskirts of the capital. They’re heading into the blazing sun, which isn’t relenting as it sinks lower toward the horizon.

Not once does he look back at her, only opting to look once she’s at his side in the shifting sands. Even then, he only glances at her and nods once. He pulls his scroll out,much higher tech than hers, and orients them with a map. In the distance, a blue objective waypoint blinks steadily. She nods and he puts it away as they set off.

Her words stick in her throat, like they so often do these days. As they jog through the sand, heat waves shimmer. The trick to running through the desert, as Fox Alistair graciously advised her last week, is to never give the sand a chance to know you’re there. Pyrrha springs from step to step, lightly pressing on the hundreds of grains under her sole for just a moment before pushing off again. Jaune runs alongside her, much more fit than she remembers. It almost makes her laugh, to see him so seriously engaging in exercise that would have had him gasping or swearing at Beacon.

Almost.

The sun has sunk lower into the sky by a few degrees by the time the mangled tower comes into view. Pyrrha almost skids to a stop at the sight of it, slowing her gait as they approach.

“Badly damaged?” She croaks out as they slide down the dunes that have been blown into formations around the structure. Once the sand settles under her, she takes a long drink from her water pouch. Jaune does the same, moving into the shadow of what’s still left standing.

“Emphasis on badly,” Jaune quips dryly. Then he looks over, startled, when Pyrrha snorts. The sound surprises her as well. She clears her throat and busies herself with another drink of precious water.

“Blueprints?” Pyrrha asks, conserving her words.

Jaune passes over his scroll. She peers at them, looking up at the twisted metal structure. Some of it can be bent back into shape, mainly the huge looming top half of the tower that hangs at a seventy-five degree angle. Other pieces scattered around are definitely just scrap now.

As she looks over and over the structure, she circles it and memorizes the appropriate shapes. Scattered shrapnel gathers into a pile without much thought, neatly pulled from the sand before it can pose a trip hazard. On her third circuit, Pyrrha dares to look up at Jaune.

He still sits listlessly in the tower’s shadow, sand pooling around the ankles of his boots. He has his arms folded across his knees, chin on his arms as he watches her work. Their eyes meet briefly before his gaze darts away. Still, he remains angled toward her.

Pyrrha points up at the twisted spires where the forces of nature had torn the metal apart. “Some of these are too big for me to adjust–”

“That’s fine,” Jaune says quickly. “Do what you can and we’ll–”

“–by myself?” Pyrrha finishes, trying not to look too hurt. The face coverings help with that. Nothing can hide how her shoulders curl in for a moment, betraying how much she wants to shrink under Tora and let the sand cover her.

“What am I gonna do?” Jaune snaps bitterly. His anger carries like sand on the wind. They stare at each other for a long moment, at once a few feet and a million miles away. Pyrrha coughs, reaching beneath her gaiter to massage her throat.

“You could… boost me?” Pyrrha suggests gently. No sooner than the words have left her mouth does she regret them.

Oh… I should have let him tell me. She frowns, licking her lips nervously. Would he have though?

Blue eyes snap up, wide and betrayed. Jaune’s eyebrows furrow, putting the pieces together. His accusation is swift and accurate: “Nora.”

“She’s been catching me up on what I missed,” Pyrrha says apologetically, clearing her throat again.

That was a bit of an understatement. Nora had spent an hour or so each night in their shared room rambling about JNPR’s misadventures after Beacon. Even though Nora falling asleep mid sentence was somewhat normal for them, she’d still double checked with Ren that she was okay, or at least close to it. They hadn’t yet gotten to the part where Nora earned the sharp, spider-webbing scars that adorn her skin now; Pyrrha hasn’t been sure if she’s allowed to ask.

“It has been a rough few months for us, Pyrrha,” Ren had said over mugs of cactus leaf tea, squeezing her hand kindly. “Let her enjoy talking to you again.”

It’s hard not to enjoy their late night talks. When the desert is dark and cold and the Shade dorms cool down enough for a light blanket, it’s positively cozy to listen to Nora ramble on about events she can only imagine. Besides, Nora doesn’t expect her to talk; she doesn’t need Pyrrha to clear the scratchy, annoying feeling in her throat to contribute. Her simple hums, sighs, and giggles do just fine.

“She’s mentioned it a few times so far,” Pyrrha explains as she fidgets, twisting her bare fingers around each other until her joints ache with the strain of contortion. There’s no escaping this awkwardness. There’s only the two of them, the blistering heat, and the dead reception tower for miles.

Jaune gets to his feet, stiffly approaching despite stumbling down the small remaining dunes. She watches him flex and clench his hands as he nears, until he’s just inches away from her, standing shoulder to shoulder. He stares up at the relay tower while she stares at the smooth expanse of his cheek.

Her fingers twitch.

“Yes. I can boost you,” he says finally, after they’ve stood there for a moment. She nods. After hovering with hesitation for a half-second, Jaune puts his hand on her shoulder.

Pyrrha gasps, reeling from the sensation.

Once before, she’d felt this power- the clear, pure, and deep well of Jaune’s soul. Back then, it had been just a moment, a passing awareness. Now, Jaune’s aura flows through her, intense and all-encompassing. It’s a cool stream, a fresh snow, a crisp mint leaf, an ocean wave-

“Hey, hey,” Jaune snaps, suddenly in front of her. He steadies her by the shoulders, searching her eyes with panic. “What’s wrong?”

Pyrrha surprises herself by laughing, joy as clear as wind chimes. When she lifts her goggles to wipe the tears of mirth from her eyes, they evaporate from her skin almost immediately. He lets go of her shoulders and steps back, swallowing hard.

“I was right,” Pyrrha gasps, trying to catch her breath. “You do have a lot of aura. Jaune, that’s amazing!”

For a moment, Jaune’s face is open and hopeful, beaming with something close to joy. Then something shifts; his expression shutters as surely as the city of Vacuo before a sandstorm. He takes another step to the side, keeping his hands to himself.

“It’s… well, yeah.” He sighs, looking up at the defunct lights that line the vertical beams of the tower. “I’m not the same stupid kid I was at Beacon.”

What?

Pyrrha opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She squeaks, furious at her voice for abandoning her. She reaches out for Jaune, but draws back almost immediately. He side-eyes her, gaze dropping to her hand, then to the sand at their feet.

“I can do less, if it’s easier. Just figured you’d want to get back to campus as soon as possible, you know?” Jaune continues, concentrating until his hands shimmer with aura. “I also don’t have to touch you. I should have asked. That’s on me.”

She frantically massages her throat with both hands, trying to get her fingers to find purchase on the sweat-soaked skin under her chin. Jaune frowns at the ground again, hand hovering near his belt now.

Finally, her voice struggles free. “Jaune, I–”

He hushes her. Somehow, that hurts more than anything else.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, hand firm on the hilt of Crocea Mors now. Pyrrha feels anger swell and flare in her heart at the dismissal.

“Jaune, this is important–!”

It doesn’t matter how important what she needs to say next is.

The ground beneath them explodes.

4. sweaty

Beware sudden dunes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jaune shouts as the burst of sand sends him flying several feet into the air.

The brisk advice had come from a fair number of people, namely members of CFVY who he'd tagged along with on missions in the early days of their return. The vagueness was purposeful, as any number of wildlife, geographic features, ruins, weather, or worse, Grimm, could cause new sand dune to arise. Velvet had at least elaborated with a story about a huge family of mole crabs.

This was no mole crab.

Jaune recovers midair, twisting to get his bearings as huge claws flail menacingly, reaching for purchase and prey. In mere seconds, the creature uncovers itself, shaking off sand to reveal its inky black carapace, ashen boney plates, glowing red markings, crimson eyes, and golden stinger.

“Deathstalker!” Jaune calls out, unsure where Pyrrha is. He expands his shield and lets its hard light wings catch the wind, carrying him out and away from the relay tower. He stumbles into a run at the far edge of the crater made of dunes. Now that he turns around, frantically sweeping his gaze across the landscape, it’s relatively obvious that the dunes that allowed the tower's full height to be revealed were hiding something dangerous. Relay towers didn’t sit in craters of their own making, not in this ever-shifting landscape.

Not again. No, no. Where is she?

He searches for bright red among the settling sand cloud, shielding his eyes as the Grimm hisses. It swivels its body toward the communication tower. Jaune’s heart sinks as he sees the object of its focus.

Pyrrha crouches within the twisted spire of the relay tower, precariously balancing one of the remaining beams. Her newly forged weapons, not too dissimilar from Miló and Akoúo̱, glint in her hands. The blade of Mellon, in its short sword form, retracts on its cord as she watches warily, making the sound that the creature hones in on. Though she is still, the whirring is like catnip; this Grimm is on the hunt.

“It can hear you!” Jaune shouts to her, running down the dune to the fight. Nothing else is likely to be here, right? A Grimm this big shouldn’t tolerate too many others. But a Grimm this big shouldn’t be so close to the settlements either! …I guess anything’s possible with three Kingdom’s worth of stress calling every Grimm on Remnant.

As he’d expected, the Grimm swivels toward him, its beady red eyes glimmering in the sunlight. With the scattered sand settling, the heat becomes oppressive again. He ducks and parries the pincher that swings toward him with his sword, then blocks the other with his shield. The impact nearly squashes him, but he activates his shield to force it back. His timing is perfect, almost instinctual now.

“Jaune!” Pyrrha shouts from above. As the deflected claw rears into the sky, a swarm of shrapnel attacks the creature’s face, piercing its eyes until they weep black and red sludge. Jaune scrambles out of the way as it flails and screeches in agony. Pyrrha clambers down the ladder-like structure, face unreadable behind her goggles.

The sand explodes in front of them as the Deathstalker slams its stinger into the sand where he’d just been standing.

“Great!” Jaune shouts bitterly as they sprint away from it, putting the relay tower between them and the monster. “Now it’s pissed and blind!”

“I’m sorry! It was about to crush you!” Pyrrha cries out. “What else was I supposed to do?”

He rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer. What else indeed.

The Deathstalker screeches behind them, drowning out Jaune’s harsh bark of laughter. Still, Pyrrha looks at him oddly, tilting her head. He ignores her, looking around. The Grimm itself is nearly half the size of the crater. The only thing nearby is the tower, its twisted metal, and the concrete platform that anchors it in the desert. Above them, the bulk of it twists to the side like a misshapen crane arm.

“Get us up there!” Jaune demands, gratified that Pyrrha questions neither his order nor his tone. She immediately crouches and launches him off her shield. Carefully composed as he soars upward, Jaune grabs one of the steel beams and pulls himself onto it. Pyrrha follows, wrapping Mellon’s grappling cable around a piece of metal a few feet away. It carries her to safety for the second time today just as the Grimm scuttles over, ramming its stinger into the sand again. Its struggle to remove the stinger conceals the sound of the cord retracting this time.

Small mercies.

Pyrrha looks over her weapons in her hands, perched next to him. “Jaune-”

“I’m thinking!” he hisses, watching the beast howl with frustration as sand sprays up into the air and its stinger comes up empty.

She yanks her neck gaiter down to her collar and lifts her goggles into her bangs. “Listen to me!”

“What part of thinking-”

“Jaune,” Pyrrha cries out. “I’m not going to lose you again!”

“You didn’t lose me, Pyrrha!” Jaune snaps back. “You can’t lose something on purpose.”

This high in the air, the hot, dry wind whips around them. Pyrrha licks her lips, expression pinched in a rare moment of irritation.

“What?”

The tide within Jaune swells. The wave crests, but it doesn’t break. He looks away, trying to spot the shimmering mirage of Vacuo city in the far distance. At this time of day, it’s too hazy with the darkening sky to see much of anything.

“I thought you remembered everything,” he mutters. Then he swallows, “this isn’t the time for this.”

Get it together.

“I fail to see any other time for it!” Pyrrha exclaims, voice cracking. “Why is it that it takes mortal peril for us to talk to each other?”

“No way! You don’t get to put this on me!” Jaune snarls, unable to quell the vicious bite in his voice. “All I ever wanted to do was talk to you! You couldn’t even let me return the favor! You kept me going at Beacon, day in and day out, but when the time came for you to actually trust me, you shoved me away! You didn’t even give me a chance-”

“Ozpin didn’t even want us fighting her!” Pyrrha puts her shield on her back so she can balance better, coiled like a spring on the precarious perch. Jaune mirrors her, except he sheaths his sword instead. Old, buried anger comes to the surface. He’s kneeling amongst the rubble of Vale again, trying to make sense of the locker he’s just crawled out of and hoping against hope that he’s having a particularly bad nightmare.

“Exactly! Ozpin died fighting Cinder! But you thought you could do it by yourself?” Jaune laughs bitterly, all too aware that there are tears streaming down his face. “Do you know how many times I’ve defended you and your last choice? Surely, I thought, surely my partner didn’t ship me off and go get herself killed in a fight she knew she'd lose! Of course she thought she stood a chance! Of course she just needed to get me out of her way!”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Even the Grimm is quiet beneath them.

“Did you… Did you just think I thought you were in my way?" Pyrrha shouts, eyes wide in disbelief.

Jaune doesn’t hesitate to snipe back. “What else was I supposed to think?”

Pyrrha’s face twists with pain or anger; they’re so unfamiliar on her countenance that it’s hard to tell. She clenches her empty hand, pressing her fist against her thigh.

“I was protecting you!”

“I didn’t need you to protect me!” Jaune counters, as the wave of anger finally crashes to shore. “I needed you, Pyrrha!”

5. gentle

In two weeks and three days, Jaune has not once said her name.

His initial silence was unsettling. His surprised stare was unyielding. After all of the excitement and questions had settled, he’d finally spoken, cutting across the chatter.

“Robyn, could you?”

She’d taken Pyrrha’s hand again, almost apologetically, then nodded at Jaune. He’d taken a deep breath, before looking her in the eye, seeing her and not just past her. She’d shivered, feeling undone by his intensity.

“What are you?”

Those three words inspired nothing but confusion. “I… I don’t think I understand. What am I? I’m… a huntress-in-training? A girl?”

Your partner?

She’d kept that one to herself.

Despite wanting to puzzle out the expression on his face, she glanced down in time to watch Robyn’s aura shimmer from pale purple to bright green. She looked back up at Jaune, at Ruby and her team who looked between her and him with varying levels of disapproval and understanding. Finally, Jaune sat back in his chair and sighed, apparently content with that answer. The tension still did not leave his shoulders.

“Alright then,” he said quietly into the silence. “Welcome back.”

The greeting felt hollow, especially since he went out of his way to avoid her from that moment onward. In fact, between her miraculous return and their current mission, she could count their conversations on her fingers.

Now, she rubs her fingertips on the woven texture of her compression tights, savoring the distracting sensation. There’s nothing else to say but the truth.

“I knew I was going to lose you,” Pyrrha insists, using the word that had started this entire argument. “But I wanted you to at least be alive if I had to.”

Jaune is pale, his fury waning by the moment. The tear tracks on his cheeks dry almost as quickly as they’re created. “What did that matter? We could have both made it out. It wasn’t… You didn’t… Damn it, Pyrrha.”

“Jaune, hear me please. Running would have killed me, even if I still drew breath,” Pyrrha swallows nervously, but the lump that has plagued her all these days is completely gone. She continues, “I thought if I fought, I might survive. I could live or die with that, if you were okay. I hadn’t abandoned my duty and I hadn’t failed you.”

“But you made me abandon you.”

Pyrrha smiles, just for a moment. “That was selfish of me, wasn’t it?”

“It was!” Jaune shouts, flinging his free hand out so hard he nearly loses his balance. Pyrrha flings her own hand out, yanking his breastplate toward her with her semblance. He yelps as he stumbles forward over the metal trusses, nearly colliding with her. He flails for a moment, but quickly regains his balance.

The tower groans. With both of them tipping the scale away from the base, its stability compromises rapidly. Pyrrha glances down at the scuttling Grimm beneath them, still wandering in the fugue of its own rage and agony.

“Yes. It was,” Pyrrha whispers. She relaxes her semblance, allowing him to move away from her.

Jaune doesn’t budge. Neither of them do, knelt precariously across from each other. Her hand hovers between them, still outstretched and bare. Gently, she places her hand on his cheek, expecting him to flinch. But he doesn’t. He leans into it, sighing and letting his eyes slip closed. His skin is rough to the touch, with soft barely-there hairs that tickle the ridges of her finger pads. It’s a wonder all of its own, the feeling of her skin pressed to his.

“I have always loved fighting by your side, Jaune,” Pyrrha murmurs, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone and wiping his tears away. “It terrified me that you might die by mine.”

“Then let me choose that,” Jaune whispers. “You owe me at least that much.”

The metal scaffold beneath them shudders, nearly throwing them off. Pyrrha keeps them both pinned to it, gasping with the force of the continued ramming. Below them, the Grimm has finally given up on trying to reach them directly. It slams its pinchers into the heavily fortified poles at the base, screeching in frustration. They gawk at it, then at each other as the metal beneath them begins to creak and sway even more. The Deathstalker screeches and turns in a circle, viciously stabbing into the stand with its claws.

“Okay,” Pyrrha promises quickly, though the thought of it seizes her heart in a familiar vice grip. “I swear I won’t… I won’t make that choice for you again.”

Jaune nods into her hand, closing his eyes briefly. He sighs.

“To be clear though,” Jaune says with a tiny, watery laugh, “I’m not trying to die by your side anytime soon. Or ever?”

Pyrrha responds with a tiny giggle of her own as the Deathstalker begins to slam the tower again, jostling them. “So not today?”

“Definitely not today!” Jaune yelps. “Fight and live?”

“Fight and live!” Pyrrha repeats, pulling away to put Mellon back in her belt. They scramble to their feet, running for the main tower as the metal twists and groans beneath them. Jaune turns back to grab her hand, helping them both stay steady as they leap for the tiny grate that acts as a service platform within the main body of the tower. Some twenty feet below, the Deathstalker continues to bellow and batter the foundation, its single-minded hatred fueling it beyond reason. That fury makes it dangerous to fight up close, but in a few more hits, they won’t have a choice.

“Jaune?” Pyrrha shouts over the cacophony of bestial rage and structural collapse. He tears his gaze away from the furious Grimm and raises an eyebrow at her. She squeezes his hand and grins. “Help me?”

He smiles in understanding. This time, when Jaune activates his semblance, Pyrrha is ready for the burst of power and energy that flows through her. She flings out her free hand toward the huge piece of tower that had been their perch, seizing it and flipping her wrist to twist it off the main structure.

The motion shakes the tower, but Jaune catches her by the waist, anchoring them both by clinging to the foundation beam nearby. Pyrrha gasps her thanks, then continues to focus on the task at hand. She lifts the huge chunk of metal as easily as a handful of ball bearings, then crushes her fist, shaping it into a wicked javelin of steel.

Then, with Jaune holding her steady, she flings the makeshift weapon at the Deathstalker’s back. The Grimm screeches in agony as its carapace rips in two, expelling viscous sludge several feet into the air. Flailing its stinger, it struggles where it's skewered into the sand, then finally goes limp. It, and its sludge, dissipate, carrying black ash onto the wind and into oblivion.

They both relax their semblances as one, exhaling with relief. Still Jaune doesn’t let go of her; she makes no effort to move away. Further beyond the relay tower, the sun sinks below the horizon, throwing reds, oranges, and dark purples into the sky.

“Uh, well… if headmaster Theodore asks…” Jaune clears his throat, looking down at the metal carnage below them. The Grim had completely destroyed every bit of the distribution box and shredded the cable connection. CCT technicians, they were not, but anyone could see it was beyond hope. “It was like that when we got here?”

Pyrrha snorts once, then again and again until she’s howling with laughter. She turns and throws her arms around his neck, gratified when he hugs her back with the same intensity. The tower trembles a little underneath them, but it’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Neither are they.

She’s been back for two weeks, three days, and a handful of hours, but only now does Pyrrha feel that she’s home.

“Hey, Pyr?” The love in the nickname punches the wind out of her lungs. She nods into his shoulder until he continues. “The next time you want me to leave, just ask, okay?”

She nods again, clinging to him even tighter. However, she knows, just as well as he does, that she could want nothing less than that. She pauses, concerned.

Does he know? Please… I need him to know.

Choked, Pyrrha murmurs, “I never want you to leave me again, Jaune.”

She can hear the tears in his voice as he replies, “Okay, good, we’re on the same page then.”

Let’s stay that way.

Their trek back to Shade takes much longer than their breakneck outgoing pace. They take down small Grimm here and there, chatting about pasts both separate and shared, walking shoulder to shoulder in the cooling desert. He hugs her before leaving her at her room door, promising breakfast together. It’s both the most normal and oddest thing that has happened in her whole second life.

Exhausted, Pyrrha showers and crawls under her blanket. Whatever missions she had today, Nora isn’t back yet, though it’s plenty late enough for their nightly life updates. Somehow though, she knows she wouldn’t be able to listen for very long. Her eyelids droop shut and she snuggles into her pillow, grateful for its softness.

“I can only do this for you,” whispers the memory of an unfamiliar voice, just as she’s drifting off. “You’ll arrive just when you’re needed and you’ll arrive just when you need it. You’ll say what you need when the time is right to say it and you’ll listen when you need to hear. Everything beyond that is up to you.”

When she wakes the next morning, it’s because Nora is bouncing on the end of her bed.

“Pyr, wake up! It’s Friday! It’s five-thirty and it’s already hot!” Nora announces gleefully. Moreso than other mornings, she can’t help but notice her energy seems more genuine than usual, more like the joy she once had at Beacon. “Get up, get up! I want breakfast!”

Pyrrha sits up slowly, combing her fingers through her hair. Small grains of sand fall to the blanket. She also has the distinct sensation of a dream slipping through her fingers. She frowns, grasping for the memory to no avail.

“Pyrrha?” Nora asks, coming to rest on her knees in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

She blinks at her friend and smiles. “I had a dream I think… I just can’t remember it anymore.”

At this Nora beams and crows, “Dreams, scheams! Who needs them? We have the whole day ahead of us!”

Her hope and enthusiasm is contagious. Pyrrha grins and sweeps her into a tight hug. Nora squeaks and hugs her back, obviously startled but not unhappy about it. When she finally pulls back, neither of them mention the tears on the other’s cheeks.

“You said something about breakfast?”

Nora takes her by the hand and drags her out of bed, then throws her combat outfit at her face. She catches it easily.

“Yep! And it waits for no one! Come on, we have so much to do today!”

Pyrrha can feel her heartbeat quicken with joy, tugging her lips into a smile.

Today, and everyday after that…

It’s a life worth fighting for.

Epilogue

Thursday Evening

Theodore sighs. “Oz, this is a risky gamble you’re taking.”

The nickname makes him twitch a little bit.

Half a dozen conversations have come and gone, not to mention a host of different people needing their audience. Oscar makes no decisions without Theodore’s council and he makes none without Rumpole’s. They’ve been in this office for hours, and yet there’s no question of the gamble to which he refers. It’s been a few hours since he’d called Jaune in for a mission assignment.

“Oscar,” he reminds the headmaster. True, it was Ozpin’s memory of JNPR’s initiation shenanigans that had given him the idea, but it was a plan all of his own. “And it’s nothing they can’t handle.”

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to realize we’ve sent them to a defunct relay tower with an active Deathstalker den?” Rumpole mutters.

“Hopefully longer than it takes for them to say what they need to say to each other,” Oscar replies, sipping his cactus leaf tea.

Rumpole is even shorter than Oscar, but her unimpressed glare manages to make him shrink into his chair a bit, chagrined.

“I may… also have Ren and Nora on standby at the current Western relay node, just a half mile way?” Oscar admits, flushing. “If something goes wrong, they’ll handle it.”

This made Theodore laugh loudly, his voice booming in the tiny office. Oscar winces at the sound, but it’s impossible to escape it. By the time the older man finishes, he has tears in his eyes.

“Ah yes, the other partner duo famous for currently getting along!”

“How convenient,” Rumpole drawls, dusting off her vest with a roll of her eyes.

“Two Nevermore, one bullet,” Oscar quips. He salutes them with his teacup and heads for the door.

Well, you certainly seem rather pleased with yourself, says Ozpin, amusement plain as day.

Oscar smiles into his tea, a small smile just between them.

By magic and miracles beyond his own power, Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren had each other once more. With these little nudges, team JNPR will surely ride again, changed but whole.

It’s the least we could do, don’t you think?

#arkos #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #rwby #rwby fic #remnants of rwby: fanworks exchange #kina updates #i am unreasonably proud of this one i really hope you like it!#ssarkosghost

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powertaco · 1 year ago

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Not exactly what I was looking for...

Ruby was desperately looking for a huge hit to start her horror vlog channel with. Deciding to enlist some help filming she puts out an ad in the local forums. What they find isn't anything like what they expected.

@remnants-of-rwby-exchange

@tiny-knives

A big hand to @remnants-of-rwby-exchange for putting together and organizing the event! Tyvm!

#rwby #frosen steel #frosensteel #whiterose #plus penny #Remnants of RWBY: Fanworks Exchange

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idance2silence · 1 year ago

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Remnants of RWBY: Fanworks Exchange

It was an absolute pleasure to write a story for @cara-kira for this fan work exchange. Its short and sweet, just pure fluff for Ozpin <3

(Gif from my other idea under the cut because its sorta flashy lights and I don't want to risk it)

@remnants-of-rwby-exchange thanks again for hosting this!

Grimified Ozpin version of the outfits that was my other idea <3

Outfits stolen from random pictures I found on the internet.

#Remnants of RWBY: Fanworks Exchange #rwby #di writes

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nonbinarychaoticstupid · 1 year ago

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DAPPLED IN SHADOW, BREAKING PROMISES

taken slightly off-guard by the lack of formal address, winter blinks at him over the desk. “we don’t have any other necromancers,” she repeats, “and certainly not anyone skilled enough to go in my place.” “i’m sending penny polendina.”

or, i tlt-ed penny and winter. sorry everyone. written for @remnants-of-rwby-exchange for @trialbystory!!

rating: T relationships: penny & winter, winter & ironwood read it here!!

#sep texxt #sep's writing #rwby #winter schnee #penny polendina #remnants of rwby: fanworks exchange

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ssarkosghost · 1 year ago

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A Penny Ahead

Alright well here is my gift to @golddragon387 for @remnants-of-rwby-exchange day. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy it to. It was a blast to write again on here and I look forward to putting more out😊. Here we get Penny dealing with knowledge from the future since she was awoken and trying to keep it all on track, as she attends the Beacon Dance for the Vytal Tournament. Wish her luck.

Bright lights and the upbeat tunes of music flowed throughout the converted hall, as the students of all four academies mingled with one another. Jokes and stories were traded, as the various refreshments were consumed. It was a joyous occasion as many enjoyed the party atmosphere, with several busting some moves on the dance floor.

Well except for one party-goer. Penny Polendina, who though outwardly was having her systems do a little jig, was inwardly barely holding it together. Ever since she had…awakened, her mind was flooded with memories of the future, past? Never mind that, whenever she thought and tried to rationalize what had happened to her, well that was no longer a major issue for her.

No, instead it was trying to implement her new, past, knowledge. She had so many conflicting points, her father, General Ironwood, and all of Atlas were in danger. Originally her focus had been trying to prep for the oncoming storm, but her status as an experiment left her few options. Anything too hard and she could see the worry on her father’s face, too soft was simply brushed aside by General Ironwood. She was trapped between being a daughter and a weapon, a fact that hindered her in other ways in Atlas too.

She couldn’t get close to anyone; she couldn’t make a friend that deep down she so desperately needed. The loneliness she now experienced was overwhelming, especially as she tried to keep up her façade of being the obedient girl. Sure, she could reach out to her father, but he would just keep pulling her back, to the false safety of his home. No, she needed someone to be willing to listen to her, to let her say what she needed to say.

Her new memories had pointed to one such individual, a person who prompted her to stick to the old/normal routine. A person that caused her to freeze over and over again. Someone that she had to see in this life to see just what these memories of her were about.

Ruby Rose, a name, and face that did the worst torment to Penny as she processed everything she had in her head. Sure, the deaths she saw came with their feelings of pain and terror, however, those paled compared to the fact that the fair-faced dark-haired girl in her new memories always made her soul yearn. At first, she only had a vague idea. The memories explained much but there was no way she had these feelings, at least until she met her again.

Penny had tried to model the first encounter as close as possible; she still froze when she gazed into the silver eyes of Ruby. Even with the awkward first words, Penny could see why her past/present self had fallen for the young huntress. Ruby was just so kind, and she saw her as someone to talk with. The following evening had Penny trying to cope with her own feelings for Ruby and detangle the ones coming from her own memories. After all this Ruby wasn’t that Ruby right, it would be unfair…right?

So, she had continued just following the steps her memories laid down, except when they found the criminal Roman Torchwick. Penny would not distract Ruby from that man and instead had moved to deflect Roman’s sneak attack. The rest of the night was a blur as Penny ripped through the White Fang’s airships without even a glance. Instead, her mind had focused on how Ruby looked at her, in wonder and excitement. Sadly, before she could move to talk, the security detail from Atlas bundled her off the scene at the docks.

For weeks she was kept within the hotel as the head of her detail, her father, and General Ironwood berated her for engaging in such a public space. It was grating, and yet she knew she had to take it less they send her back. That was something she couldn’t risk, not when she was so close. Still, she did have to sneak out once, if only to meet Ruby again, to give her side of the incident of course.

However, unlike the time in her memories, Penny was much more careful, staying away from the potential patrols of Atlas personnel. She really didn’t want to cause any issues for Ruby, especially since she didn’t have much information for her. Instead of a harrowing chase and reveal, Penny instead got to listen to Ruby for a while. It was sweet, a nice calming moment that just felt right.

It was a moment that Penny wanted to keep going on forever, but she knew she had to get back. For a moment she almost asked if Ruby would save a dance with her, but she hesitated. She wasn’t sure if it was right, as due to her caution, there was no need to run, no incident with a truck almost hitting Ruby, and thus no reveal that she, Penny Polendina was…was built instead of born.

So, Penny packed it away and waited patiently for the dance to arrive, there she would ask Ruby. Or at least that was the plan. However General Ironwood was still concerned about her movements, and as such Penny found her protection detail being doubled for the night. Sure, she was annoyed, but the greater issue was that things were changing, becoming different from what her memories had shown her. She had accounted for slight variations at this stage, but these drastic measures by General Ironwood worried her. If too much changed, she couldn’t strike Cinder Fall’s plans at the exact—!

Cinder Fall, she would strike tonight targeting the CTTS Tower, and more dangerously confront Ruby. Her mind was a wash of the probabilities, with too many being unacceptable. A shift in priorities was needed. So, she made her opening.

“Excuse me, may I be escorted to the restroom?” she asked the corporal in charge of her detail, giving the man a brilliant smile. She knew they didn’t want to be here, guarding what they assumed was someone’s kid. As such it was easy for her to get reasonable requests, especially since she had stayed in her hotel room for the past few weeks. The corporal nodded and, in a few minutes, Penny found herself alone in a nearby girls’ restroom. Quickly she located a vent and scrambled into it. The blueprints of Beacon Academy were relatively easy to acquire for her. With a path selected, she hustled toward the tower.

The next few minutes were the most harrowing for Penny as she tried not to over-analyze what she knew of this incident. Time frames, potential attacks, and disastrous outcomes all rushed through her head. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her task her thoughts always seemed to track back to the fact that she was racing against time. If she was too late—

Penny shook her head as she finally managed to find an exit. Slipping out she hit the ground running, regretting not pressing her father for the jet boots her previous/future self had. Still, she filed that complaint for later, as she deployed her blades. She knew Cinder Fall was not someone to hold back on. A first strike would—

“Penny?” a familiar voice stopped her as she reached the entrance, and she turned to meet the concerned and armed form of Ruby Rose. “What are doing here?”

“Ruby it's fine, please return to the party, there is no need to worr—hic!!” Penny felt her eyes go wide at the startled hiccup that came out of her mouth. Ruby’s eyes narrowed in concern as she stepped closer.

“Penny is something wrong, I saw someone sneaking—”

“It's nothing—Hic!! No, it is just a HIC!!” Penny was not prepared for the rush of emotions as she tried to assuage Ruby that she didn’t need to get involved just yet, she didn’t need to be a target of Cinder. It would just be her Penny that would earn Cinder’s wrath, it is what she was designed for it was her purpose for being built. She—!

Her panicked thoughts stopped when Ruby stepped forward holstering Crescent Rose and brought Penny into a quick hug.

“Penny breath it's fine whomever she is we can—”

“No!” Penny quickly jerked back, wide-eyed, “I mean Ruby please you can’t she’s dangerous.” She pleaded as she stepped closer to the main entrance.

“If she is that dangerous then I can’t let you go alone Penny,” Ruby pressed, subtly swearing as her heels caused her to stumble on the bottom steps.

“I…I’ll be fine, this, this is what…” Penny felt her words stop in her non-existent throat, as her internal computers churned through vague explanation after vague explanation.

“How Penny what possible could, make you…fine,” Ruby trailed off as Penny turned her back to her, and the light shimmers of the thin lines that connected her blades revealed to be going directly into her. “Penny, what—!?” Ruby’s question was stopped as Penny had an auxiliary charge port at the base of her neck.

“I, I was built Ruby, I, can be rebuilt,” Penny answered as she turned back around, with a sad smile. “I can sustain more damage than a person and still fight,”

“What, but that just doesn’t mean you can do this alone, who knows just what that person is—”

“I am well aware of her combat capabilities Ruby,” Penny declared, as she interrupted Ruby’s questions before she gave her friend a small smile.

“How!? There’s no way that…” Ruby trailed off as her face scrunched in thought, which she quickly shook off. “No matter I’m still coming with you.” Ruby declared as Penny began to fidget. She knew it was a long shot, her memories told her as much, but perhaps there was a way.

“Ruby please,” Penny started again as she entered to door frame of the CTTS Tower’s entrance, in the attempt to block Ruby’s access as she tried to push forward.

“No Penny, it doesn’t matter that you're mechanical, you are still my friend, and I won’t just stand by and let you do this alone, now we can stand here arguing till whomever this woman is leaves or you can let me follow you.” Ruby promptly declared.

“You are my friend, Ruby,” Penny started, “but I—”

And with an impulse she never expected Penny bent down and gave a quick peck on Ruby’s cheek shocking said girl. In a flash, Penny had stepped back into the tower proper and immediately locked the entire building down. She knew Cinder would have already dispatched the guards, and most likely had one of Dr. Watts’ viruses in the computer systems. However, the lock-down protocols were easy for her to find and set to maximum. Penny then hustled toward the stairs. There would be questions, but it would all be worth it, as long as Cinder Fall did not leave this building alive.

“I promise you Ruby,” Penny whispered to herself, “I will ease your burden.”

#RWBY #RWBY AU #Remnants of RWBY: Fanworks Exchange #Penny Polendina #Penny-Time-Travel-AU-Memories #golddragon387 #Pre-Nuts and Dolts

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trialbystory · 1 year ago

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Remnants Exchange Piece: Life At The Party

A gift for @powertaco, with apologies for the unimaginitive title. What else could it be but DWR?

At a party celebrating the end of the first week of class at Beacon University, Weiss feels abandoned by her friend, Ruby feels awkward and lonely, and Maria feels a need to find and get to know to of her fellow students that she may or may not have spent the last week obsessing over.

This was fun to write, hopefully I stuck the landing.

#rwby #remnants of rwby: fanworks exchange #ruby rose #weiss schnee #maria calavera #death’s whiterose #fanfiction #oneshot

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hellowhoisthere · 1 year ago

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BEACON ACADEMY: FIRST CLASS

this was alternatively titled "When Two Birds and Dragon Walk Into a Rose"

Once the last students arrived at the edge of Beacon Academy’s property, the headmaster began his speech.

“I would like to begin with expectations.This class will be the first class to be initiated under my tenure, and I intend to have you be the best huntress and huntsman Beacon has to offer Remnant. The first step will be a test. You will have until dusk to enter the forest, locate one relic from the abandoned temple in the northern edge of the forest and return here to present your findings. This will not only be a test of your aura, your skills, but also your intentions as future huntsman and huntresses.

The headmaster took one long look at the two students who arrived last as he spoke of the meaning of being huntsmen and huntresses. One was a boy with a fringe over one eye, dressed in what looked like a jacket with attached fingerless gloves on the sleeves. The other was a girl with bright red streaks throughout her wild raven hair. The headmaster closed his speech with, “Now, get off my cliff”.

Some students did not hesitate and jumped from the cliff, one female student did so with a flourish of her white cape as she bid adieu to the other students. Others used their weapons or dust to shoot off the cliff. While others, one student, had to be pushed off by the headmaster. However, that wasn’t Taiyang’s fault.

He had been searching his pockets for something to help him rappel from the cliff. He did not have any rope in his pockets, but he did find something as he was falling to the whitewater of the waterfall. The sail of the hang glider caught the air just in time and flew Taiyang over the Emerald Forest allowing him to take in the view. It was not that Taiyang was lost, but the view was spectacular the longer he was in the air. There were trees, and more trees, and one tree with what looked like a guy standing on the branches.

That guy must be lost, and it is Taiyang’s duty as future huntsman to help out the unfortunate.

Taiyang folded the glider to drop himself on the branches below the other student. Taiyang started to climb up, but was stopped,

“It’s not a good idea.” the guy shouted while keeping his eyes on the landscape.

“You don’t have to worry about me, partner. I can climb this tree blindfolded, and you had a good idea getting a bird’s eye view from there.” Taiyang said as he continued his climb up the tree.

“I’m looking for my sister. She is my only partner.”

Taiyang reached the branch the other was on. “I’m already here, so might as well help. I’m Tai by the way, so how do you know where your sister is?”

“Where there is a fire, there is my sister.”

“That should be easy to spot then.” Taiyang swept over the forest from this height; it still looked like a bunch of trees, and the guy stubbornly kept his gaze from meeting Tai’s. “Your name is, or I’m gonna give you a nickname.”

“Listen, I’d think twice before teaming up with me. I’m not a good person to have around.”

“Listen Moody Fringe, I only have to think once about it.”

Qrow finally looked at Tai, sorta. Qrow had rolled his eyes at the nickname, but Tai could tell he was suppressing a smile as he did. “My name is Qrow.”

Then for an indeterminable reason the branch beneath their feet gave way.

A few miles away, Raven heard the sound of a tree falling in the forest and knew it to be her brother. She started in a straight line towards the sound by cutting away at anything in front of her.

“Hey! Watch where you’re swinging that thing!” Raven has cut into some flowers, at least she thought so as only a few petals floated in the air.

Then, a girl was next to Raven. Raven was certain the girl had not been there seconds before, but what caught her off guard was something else about her.

“You have silver eyes.”

“Yeah, and you have red eyes.”

“I’ve never met someone with silver eyes before,” Raven lied.

“Likewise. I mean, I’ve seen myself in mirrors, but I’ve never seen red eyes.”

“You’ve never been to Anima, I guess. Red eyes were common in my village.”

“Haven’t, but maybe someday” Summer shrugged shyly.

Raven almost told her that no one could visit the village, that she and Qrow were the only survivors.

However, a beowulf howl on wind broke up the conversation. Raven turned away from the conversation and kept going forward, and the girl followed.

“We are done talking, so why are you following me?” Raven turned with her sword, and once again the girl dodged with the use of her semblance. Teleporting just before the strike came into touch with her.

“Why do you keep trying to kill me? We are going to the same place, so why not go together. Since that beowulf didn’t sound too far from here”

“I’m moving away from the temple. If you can make it through the forest by yourself, you would be going that way.” Raven pointed in the opposite direction that she could feel Qrow’s aura now.

“Nice try, but I know the relics are east of here. Maybe I’m worried about you making it through the forest?”

“I’m the strongest one here, and I would take the advantage if I were you.”

“It isn’t a competition, and how sure are you about the strongest hmm?”

“Everything is a competition. To find who is worthy, who is strongest, and only the winners stay alive. That is why I need to find Qrow, because we are going to win this together. Take the head start, Petals.”

Raven drew her sword up faster than before. Bring the tip just below the girl's chin, and the girl didn’t flinch.

“Wow, Qrow? Is your name Lark then, because my name is Summer Rose not Petals. ”

“My name is Raven.”

Summer smiled like she won something, and used her semblance to dance around Raven to reappear behind her. “Then we better get going Raven if we are going to beat the grimm to the finish line.”

Raven had a feeling she would find Qrow fighting with a pack of beowulfs, but she was not expecting for him to have such bad luck as to be in the center of a horde.

“That is bad luck, but I think the four of us can handle it.” Summer said bring her weapon out from under her cape. It looked like a hunting rifle with an ax blade .

“The two of us can handle it. Stay here.” Raven flew towards the eye in the center of the horde where Qrow was sundering grimm with his sword.

“Get the hell outta here” Qrow growled once she was back to back with Qrow.

“That’s the welcome I get for coming to save your skin?”

“He was talking to me,” Another person appeared from the ashes of grimm. Knuckles studded with dust he was punching grimm outright. “You must be Raven. You can call me Tai. I’m your brother's new best friend.” Tai punched another grimm in flames with fire dust. Then, Tai said to Qrow, “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Raven smelled fresh flowers, because she actually heard Summer, and she heard her before she saw appear. “I can’t believe you just tried to ditch me.” She said as she cleaved a beowulf as soon as she was a solid person.

“It’s a real problem with them I’m guessing.” Tai said. “But now this is going to be a party.”

“A short lived one, if you two don’t focus.” The smile Qrow had when he saw Raven was back in a frown at the situation. This was his fault, and he knew it.

“We need to kill the alpha beowulf, and make a run for relics. We don’t have the time to take on this horde.” Summer chopped a beowulf.

“Sounds like a plan, but which one is the leader?”

‘The one with the loudest howl” Raven and Qrow said together as the howl rang out above the horde of growls and baying.

“That one! Help me get a clear shot.”

Summer reverted her ax into a hunting rifle. Raven switched the blade of her sword with one for a blade of wind dust that cleared a direct path to alpha beowulf with one heavy swing. Qrow took to extending the path Raven made for their getaway run and Tai kept the rear to keep any grimm from chasing them through the forest.

The four of them ran until they came to the end of the path to the temple.

Raven struggled to save face while the others freely caught their breath.

“See like I said the four of us could handle it.”

“I don’t consider running from grimm handling it.”

“No one died, so I consider it handled”

“Let’s just pick a relic and get back to school before sunset.” Qrow picking up one of the crystal figurines at random.

“There are only four left, so it looks like we are in last place.” Tai said, picking up a figurine.

“It's ruby red. My lucky color.” Summer Rose said with a smile at Raven.

“The luck here is that this wasn’t a competition.” Raven didn’t smile back, but repetition of Summer’s words didn’t go unnoticed by her.

At the cliffs the group was at a standstill as getting to the top of the sheer cliff face was going to present a problem.

“I can check my pockets for a hot air balloon,” Tai said, considering the cliff face.

“The only place with hot air is your head.” Qrow rolled his eyes at him.

“You have green dust, right?” Summer asked Raven.

“Even if I had enough, it's going to be a long climb.”

“I thought the strongest of us would have no problem with it,” Summer teased, “We will only need to get closer, then I should be able to take us up one by one from that ledge.”

It was a good plan, but Qrow had the bad habit of messing up even a good plan.

The first thing to go wrong was Qrow losing his relic to the abyss as he climbed to the ledge. The second wasn’t his fault, but he blamed himself for it anyways.

“How does your semblance work?” Qrow asked as Summer held out her hand to him.

“I don’t really know, but it will help if you close your eyes and not think about anything.”

“That shouldn't be a problem for him.” Raven snorted.

“It will be even less of a problem with her.” Qrow retorted. Raven glared in response, and Qrow would have stuck his tongue out at her if she hadn't disappeared in the next second.

It wasn’t Raven that left though, it was Qrow. Now standing next to the Headmaster without a relic.

“Oh what? No way? Must have lost it in the teleport.” Qrow lied.

The headmaster only hummed in response. Qrow didn’t know how to understand that, so he looked over the edge for his sister.

Below Tai and Raven were waiting for Summer to renew her energy as teleporting herself was no sweat on her aura, but teleportation with another person took more.

Then, a wild updraft came, nearly blowing them off the cliff, or maybe it did because Qrow lost sight of the three.

Next to Qrow though appeared a pile of petals. It was worse than the blossom season back home, but out though petals appeared everyone standing safe and sound.

Summer Rose was bright as she handed the headmaster her relic. It was a mission well done as no was hurt, and everyone brought back what they needed.

Then, the world went dim. As soon as Summer released the relic she fell over, and so did Raven and Taiyang.

“Hmmmm,” The headmaster said, looking at three unconscious students before pulling out his radio. “Please bring a bus to the orientation site. Also, let my secretary know I thought of new rules for the orientation next year.”

When the world came back into color it was white. Actually off-white, or more like a very very pale green. Summer could faintly hear the muffled cheering from somewhere.

“It is the orientation ceremony, it sounds like the whole school is there.”

“I think passing out during the first exam means we didn’t make it.”

Raven and Tai were in cots on either side of her, and Summer came to with her last memory.

“I’m sorry, I took too much on, and I brought you down with me.”

“Are you hungry? Food always helps me feel better when my aura gets depleted.” Taiyang’s voice was so soft with concern as he held a footlong sub sandwich to Summer.

Summer was so hungry, but-

“Where did you get that?” Raven asked for both of them.

“It’s my semblance. I can basically fit anything into a box, so it came from my pocket. My semblance keeps things preserved as the day I stored it. Want some?”

“Sounds like a fair enough explanation to me. You don’t have to ask me thrice.” Summer took half of the offered sandwich.

“I can’t believe you’re eating that” Raven said. Eventhough she had no place to judge with the food she had to eat when there was nothing else.

“Don’t have the strongest stomach?” Summer said to her, and then to Tai, “Do you have any cookies? I think if I’m about to be kicked out of school before the first day, a cookie will make it all better.”

Tai nodded with understanding as he checked every pocket of his attire which consisted of cargo pants and fishing vest.

Meanwhile in the auditorium Qrow watched as everyone was either called to join a team or cheered to welcome the new students.

Qrow didn’t cheer, he didn’t move at all for the entirety of the ceremony.Qrow was too busy falling into despair as each student was called. He had hoped that he would finally find a place in the world. A place to belong, be accepted, just for a little while.

Qrow didn’t wipe his tears, because he wasn’t crying in the vacant auditorium after it was clear that he failed acceptance to Beacon Academy. He would get up, find Raven, and leave this place behind him… as soon as he could get up.

However, Qrow was found first by Headmaster Ozpin.

“We’ll be leaving soon enough, can’t even stay the night?” Qrow cleared his throat.

“It's a pity as I had high hopes for you and your team.”

“My team?”

“You may not be the leader, but it will be your team nonetheless. If you would please follow me, I’ll introduce you to-”

The headmaster fell over as Qrow followed him.

“That is an interesting semblance you have.” The headmaster said, straightening himself and continued walking.

“Are you blaming me for you falling over?” Qrow blamed himself too.

“You will be able to learn to trigger the probability field, but I suspect your semblance is passive to a degree.”

“I got shit luck that is all.” Qrow grumbled.

“I may not have the semblance of divination, but I do have a hunch. Do you not see the effect you have on your surroundings, the people, or grimm around you.”

Qrow stalled as his whole life realigned itself with this information. There was no hope for Qrow after all.

“I’m a bad luck charm to my very soul?”

“Not the way I would define it, but a stroke of good luck may be just beginning for you.”

The headmaster said as he opened the infirmity to find three students on one cot with a stack of cookies between their teeth for each of them.

Headmaster Opzin could not laugh now matter how much Ozpin wanted too, so he hummed a non-response. As he watched Summer Rose swallow the cookies whole, he knew he made the right choice. He has high hopes for these huntsmen.

Ozpin announced the team in a similar introduction from the orientation ceremony. “You will be Team STRQ (stark). Led by Summer Rose. I look forward to seeing you all in class tomorrow.”

Headmaster Opzin exited stage left after his announcement that shook Summer’s world entirely. She arrived at Beacon yesterday, with only the hope of passing orientation, had lost that hope in a low aura incident, and now was team leader.

Taiyang was happy to be at Beacon Academy of course, but had resigned himself to be unlicensed huntsman, or maybe take up teaching just one cookie stack ago. Now he broke the silence of his teammates, “This calls for cake! Give me a second. I have one in case of celebration.”

The Brawnwen siblings did not process their feelings from the day until they were alone with each other. Once on the roof of their new dorm they passed a flask between them. Together they allowed the reality of today’s events to set in as they watched the stars over Beacon’s campus and Vale beyond that.

Raven was tasked with learning how to be a huntress, so she could defeat other huntsmen. After two near failures in one day, she doubted her ability to make the next four years. Especially, with the teammates she had been given.

“Thinking about how you’re on a team with your favorite fairytale?” Qrow said, because growing up the only survivors and living in the tribe together gave Qrow the talent to read her mind.

“At least we won’t have to worry about them figuring us out.”

“Didn’t answer my question. Do you remember the guy from Kutanashi with the silver eyes?

Raven would never forget her first solo mission for the tribe. “He was strong, but no match for us.” Raven had been amazed by meeting a true silver eyed warrior, he had fought like one too, but she didn’t allow it to deter her from her mission. In the same way she wouldn’t let Summer Rose distract her now.

“Do you ever wonder who paid us to cut his eyes out?”

“Not our place.” Raven said automatically, but one day she would be one to have knowledge in the tribe. One day four years from now.

“Think about it, though. If it wasn't for that, we wouldn’t be here. After that the tribe said the only ones that could stop us are the huntsmen, so now we are here learning to be huntsmen. Because whoever that was, we get to do this normal thing.”

Everyday for the next four years Qrow wouldn’t need to prove his strength to be accepted, be fearful of falling behind, or forced to raid to survive. He would have friends, his sister, and a chance at a new life for himself.

Maybe the headmaster was right. This was only the beginning of Qrow’s good luck.

Raven and Qrow both a final swig of the flask to the same pledge,

“Until graduation.”

~~~~

@shiny-good-rock

@remnants-of-rwby-exchange

#remnants of rwby: fanworks exchange #team strq #rwby strq #i really headcanon Summer's semblance as cross between Ruby's and Blake's but teleport worked better here.#Also please imagine Raven and Qrow with the classic Scene/Emo kid look from the mid 2000s #i hope to have fulfilled your request for some summer/raven and this was all just emotional whump for qrow and overall silly strq

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