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Love, Like Iron Forged 14 (8/18)
🕑 Added 2021-08-11 17:35:10 +0000 UTCThis was the sum of all fears.
Amber was dead. But before Qrow could even count his grief, seeing her body lying in the shattered pod, her blood staining her chest, he was faced with the horrible reality that the Queen had finally finished the job, had taken the Maiden, just days before they were going to transfer Amber’s soul to Pyrrha. So they’d been able to avoid that nightmare, but this situation was far, far worse. Did she move because she knew they were about to transfer her power? She seemed to know exactly where Amber was hidden and all their security measures, so she was probably in their system. It was just…
They had been utterly defeated.
But they couldn’t just hide and lament their losses, couldn’t even just take some time to lick their wounds. They had to try, had to think of some crazy, desperate gamble and just try to get the Maiden powers back. Even if it was hopeless.
Jimmy was giving the briefing on what their investigation had been able to turn up. Qrow normally wouldn’t have appreciated the Atlesian taking charge of things, but here, he was the man with the black ops teams who could pull the manpower and resources to put a cordon around Beacon without having to bring in the Council That was how bad things were: Jimmy was sticking his thumb into Beacon, and Qrow couldn’t even object to it.
The dossier, though, also told them how bad it was. Their security system had been utterly bested. The Queen had penetrated the CCT and likely had access to everything they had, probably had the whole system’s schematics. They’d made a copy of Glynda’s access card, had breached the keycode system using a previously-unknown vulnerability, had evaded all their cameras and had gotten to where Amber was, utterly defenseless… and left an arrow in her chest. They had left it as a mark of their passing, a taunt that pierced Qrow’s heart as much as the arrow pierced Amber’s.
He had failed her twice now. It was his failure, his, that put her in her coma. Had forced them to conceal her beneath the school with security systems he was too arrogant to believe could be breached, even as they went up against Vale’s greatest thief.
When Yang had told him that they had uncovered evidence of Roman’s next move, Qrow had been too confident, too desperate for a win that he didn’t realize that it was a trap.
Of course Roman leaked information that would get picked up by Beacon students. Of course he knew that they’d be eager for action and jump to it, and they knew that Qrow was desperate. He got a whiff of action from his niece, coming to him for help just as she should have, to the adult, to the responsible one… and they’d thrown everything they had at a phantom. It was a feint, bait that they knew Ozpin and Ironwood couldn’t resist. And just as Qrow had condemned so many times… they’d overcommitted. Yang had gone to him, the adult, to handle this like an adult and Qrow had proven that even the adults in the room were impatient, careless fools.
“The warehouse fire in Vale,” Jimmy continued, “is almost certainly connected, I suspect the Queen was cleaning house and covering some loose ends. My investigation has uncovered that it was a front owned by Roman Torchwick, which-”
“Which is why my insurance now won’t pay out, thank you very much.”
All eyes turned to the last man any of them wanted to see.
Roman Torchwick. Leaning right against the wall by the door, as though he’d been there the whole time. Qrow would give him this, the man was dapper, carried himself with a regal, devil-may-care way that made the suits and the bowler hat look less like an affectation… and more like genuine style. But coming in here, to them, all cocksure, was not a smart move.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen, Ma’am, I’m sure you know who I am and what I do, so let’s- AWWWK!”
His chin was rapidly introduced to the ground, Glynda’s Semblance locking him down as she stood, eyes blazing and crop extended, a reminder that you didn’t fuck with Glynda Goodwitch.
“Ohhhhh,” the thief groaned, “Oh, I expected it from the General, but, oooof, Ma’am, you are one hell of a-”
“Do you have any idea,” Glynda began, her voice as crisp and deliberate as if she was dressing down a student, though Qrow doubted even she ever ground a student against the floor as she lectured them, “what you’ve interfered with? We are not police. We are not law enforcement. We do not do trials, Mr. Torchwick. We are not bound by laws. You have caused untold harm to the safety of the-”
“Ease off him!” Qrow suddenly interrupted, “He’s here to talk, so let him talk!”
Glynda shot him a withering look, and Qrow could definitely see where she was coming from. But… he had a feeling he had the inside knowledge here. “Come on,” he said, a little more softly, “We get nothing from threatening him. He’s holding the cards and came here cause he knows it.”
She kept her face locked to a disapproving look, but Glynda loosened her arm and Torchwick pulled himself up from the ground, dusting himself off.
“Well, I have to say,” he said, straightening his hat, “Starting to get why your students are so quick to start shooting every time I encounter them… but your man is right,” he nodded at Qrow, “I am holding all the cards, but wouldn’t you know it, I think I’ve finally figured out what game you’re all playing.”
“Chess?” Oz dryly replied.
But Torchwick just chuckled, tipping his cap at the Headmaster. “Wouldn’t you know it, I hadn’t known about the whole chess imagery until just about the end… let’s just say, that was the first of many issues we had in our working relationship.”
“Had,” Glynda noted, “So I take it-”
“If you recovered a body from the warehouse,” he nodded, “that was the ‘Queen’ you’ve been after.”
That… that was not expected. None of this, from the tensions between Torchwick and the Queen—that if only Qrow had pushed them harder!—to the revelation of their nemesis’s sudden death, the same day as the… Qrow began to feel antsy about this situation. Most Maiden’s had short tenures as others in their circle desired the power for themselves.
Still, Torchwick continued, “Her name was Cinder Fall. Gave us a sob story about a revolutionary movement against, well, this,” he nodded towards Ozpin and Jimmy, two Council members of foreign Kingdoms in secret collaboration, “Mostly some nonsense I didn’t really believe, but she hired me to ‘rescue’ the woman, Amber, that you’re now-”
Qrow felt the vein bulge in his forehead as he gripped the armrests of his chair.
“I… if it means anything, I am sorry for your loss,” he said in a softer voice, “I’m no saint, but I wasn’t hired to kill her, and her death was… part of what led to our parting.” Then he brightened back to his usual demeanor. “Anyways, Cinder tried to cross me, things turned ugly, whaddyaknow, she’s dead, and now one of my associates has found herself in this little invisible war you’ve got going on with someone Cinder called Salem.”
Qrow knew not to take the bait, but it was harder than he thought to keep the tone of the room from shifting as they heard her name. Torchwick nodded, satisfied that he’d gotten what he was aiming for, “She’s new to me, but she isn’t new to you, and that’s an interesting situation we find ourselves in.”
“There is one detail you didn’t clarify in your story,” Jimmy grunted, “The Maiden. Who has the power now if the Qu- if this ‘Cinder Fall’ is dead?”
Roman quietly nodded. “Well, isn’t that the million lien question...” raising his eyes to meet each and every person in the room, he confidently explained, “Let’s just say, she’s a living ghost. Not on the books anywhere, not in any system you’ve got, and she’s an ace at lying low. You’re not finding her, not without-”
“Not until you get what you want,” Jimmy growled, his eyes narrowing. “Alright. Spare us the theatrics. What is it you want?”
“A pardon, I suppose?” Glynda asked as Qrow cringed. They were trying to play their hands too strong on someone who didn’t have a single reason to see them as a threat to his aims. They didn’t understand that he was showing them an enormous level of courtesy by meeting with them, and they were treating him like a common criminal.
A thought confirmed as Roman chuckled. “I don’t want a pardon because I don’t want you to think that you're the cops and I’m your CI. Like you said,” he nodded at Glynda, ”you’re not law enforcement. You and me, you’re not dangling power over my head that you gift me in exchange for information. Uh-uh, we are both players in this game, and if we’re doing this, we’re doing it the way you deal with any other players at the table.”
Ozpin gave a slow nod, his brow furrowed as he gave Torchwick one of those looks he was so good at, the ones that made you feel like you were on the slide of a microscope as he pierced you right to the bone and read your entire history.
But for the first time that Qrow had ever seen, Roman Torchwick seemed impervious to the Headmaster’s perception.
“Alright then,” he finally agreed, “And what does that mean?”
Torchwick grinned. “Well, to me, it means that I have all the cards, but… I don’t need to leave you out in the cold. I’ve got the Maiden, yeah, but she’s not inclined to like Salem. In fact, she wouldn’t mind a chance to pay her back for a few… outstanding debts, let’s call them, and that’s where I see you coming in.”
“You’re here,” Glynda said dryly, “so that you can… put out a hit on Queen Salem?”
Perhaps not the most diplomatic way to phrase it, but Torchwick’s frivolous attitude towards the deepest secret in all of Remnant was really starting to feel less like bravado and more like he legitimately had no idea what he had actually just stumbled right into. But Qrow kept a close eye on Torchwick’s face, watching as his expression darkened.
“I figure if she was someone you could take a hit out on, one of you already would’ve,” he said with a shrug. The casual gesture doing little to offset the sudden seriousness in his voice. “And I think that’s what you have that I need. That’s why I think we need to cooperate on this. Yeah, I’m not like you, I’m not here for a love of the world and all its innocent people. I’m here because Salem hurt my people, and nobody gets away with that. And if working with you is what I have to do to repay those debts, then that’s what I’m doing.” Then his smile came back as he added, “Plus, none of you had a whisper on me, not really, so I think you need my assistance with working in your own backyard, no matter what my motivation is.”
It was a pointed cut, but not an unearned one. Dealing with Salem’s operatives in the field, they were getting pretty good at that. Dealing with them in the city, though…
“In exchange… I want to know who I’m going up against. I want to know what you know, and I want to move forward… into a partnership. My kind of partnership,” he said, before Jimmy could object, “One where we don’t have to like each other, one where I know you’re looking for a chance to stab me in the back… but one where the both of us know we’re better off not taking that shot if you saw it. I’d offer to let you talk it over, but I get the feeling you don’t exactly have a choice.”
Leaning on his cane, he looked around the room, clearly reading on each of their faces that he was right. They might be angry, might not enjoy being put over a barrel, but the four of them knew what the score was, and none of them could really hide that from Torchwick.
But Qrow was the only one in the room who wasn’t a leadership type, a fact that was made very clear now as the rest of the room stiffened. Ozpin was unreadable as always, but Qrow could feel the anger radiating off of Glynda and Jimmy. Jimmy, the military man, had risen through the ranks of the Atlesian military, every step reinforcing his loyalty to the chain of command. And now that he was on top, having to bow his head to a street thief was not going to work. And Glynda was somehow worse. Never a pragmatist in the first place, she was giving Torchwick a look that could practically kill… not that he noticed it.
“Oh, and one last thing,” Torchwick said while inspecting his fingernails, “I don’t want a pardon for myself, but if we’re opening all our files, then you’re going to learn that Cinder had some of your people on her hook, and I happen to be unexpectedly invested in their well being… we can say one of them moved some mountains for me. So I’d recommend you prepare yourself to not retaliate against them, because I wouldn’t take that very well.”
Shit. Qrow knew he knew too much! He knew they had a- a-
Godsdamnit.
Gods damn it all.
Yang had turned over the evidence that led them into a trap. They had all thought it was the Queen’s manipulation of over-eager students, but what if… what if Yang was the…
Qrow was not going to go down that line any further, and he certainly wasn’t going to let the others do the same.
“Alright then,” he growled, deciding that being quiet was a mistake at this time, “Oz, Jimmy, Glynda… can we skip the bullshit? I know it ain’t in your nature to admit that things are out of our control, but we’re in a worst case scenario right now. You wanna try and say we’re not, try and say we’ve got another way than working with a criminal- no offense.”
“None taken,” he dryly replied.
“But we’re not going to get a better deal. We got lucky on the Queen, that she didn’t do more damage and we owe it...” his voice began to tremble with unexpected emotion, “We owe it to Amber that we do this right. That we remember that we’re here to stop Salem. And if we’re making a deal with Torchwick to get there, then that’s what we’re doing. Anyways…” he said, a sly grin coming to his face, “ain’t none of us can claim we haven’t cut corners, morally, before.”
Silently, they looked around the room, a wordless negotiation between the parties. Glynda seemed to be still open to her original plan of breaking his neck and chucking his body in the forest, but she knew Qrow was right. Seemed to be everyone’s take, from the looks on their faces. But it was a long, meaningful glance between Jimmy and Oz that was the real debate, and once it ended...
“Mr. Torchwick,” Ozpin replied, “Your terms are acceptable,”
“Alright then,” Torchwick said, swaggering over to the table before leaning forward and placing both palms flat on it. “Let’s talk.”
LINE BREAK NEO
It was funny. Neo and Roman had always kept a couple of crooked doctors on their payroll, guys who stitched up real bad injuries and handled the stuff aura couldn’t, but Neo had never required any of their services before. Never felt like she ever would. For Neo, her plan was: if she was injured badly enough to need a sawbones, odds were, she was getting left behind to die. Cause the odds were, if she was that badly injured, it’d be from a fight she couldn’t run away from, a fight because she had nowhere left to run to.
So, lying in a hastily assembled recovery room on a probably stolen hospital bed, Neo had to deal with a whole bunch of feelings she’d really figured she’d be too dead to deal with. Like being aware of how exposed she was, cooped up in here… and not just to outside threats. She also had to… had to deal with some stuff.
Vulnerability was hard. She couldn’t shake the feeling from deep in her bones that staying in this bed was a show of weakness, and a weakness like this would mean…
But she had to banish those thoughts. That wasn’t what her life was like, not anymore. She wasn’t someone who got left behind, someone who’d be dead the minute she wasn’t able to work. She… she had Roman. And nearly losing him made her realize exactly how much she needed him, needed someone in her life that actually cared for her. The thought of having lost him had driven her to a suicidal drive to revenge, and now that she had him back…
And now what?
She was… the Fall Maiden now, the mythic elemental powers coursing through her aura. She was, in spite of how she felt, more powerful than she ever imagined she might be. Even as tired and worn down as her body felt right now, she could do more damage now than she ever could before. And once she was back on her feet...
Raising a finger, she reached beyond the limits of her skin and began to stir the air around her. Soon, she didn’t need to move her finger at all—her new power meant she could feel the air, the current as an extension of her being, and with it, give herself a refreshing breeze… or more. She whirled the air about her, faster and faster, feeling her blanket and hair start to ripple, papers on a nearby desk get pulled into the cyclone she had concentrated around her, faster and faster, the wind roaring in her good ear as…
As she stopped.
Looking around the room, Neo could see she’d made a mess of it, with papers blown every which way. Exhaling slowly, Neo reminded herself that being seduced by power was what got Cinder killed… a reminder that the last two wielders of the power she now held had been murdered on the same day. There was little comfort to be found in power that uncertain. What she needed… what she needed now, more than ever… was people. Other people. Roman was out right now trying to make sure they had the support they needed, and while Neo didn’t trust the big men at Beacon… she trusted Roman. He’d figure something out.
After all, she thought with an inner laugh, he’d managed to find a way out of being dead, so it was hard to overestimate what he could do. Sure, Blue Eyes’ Semblance had probably done a lot of the legwork there, but, come on, who else could escape a prison as total as death?
She felt a little better, thinking about the events of yesterday like a heist, like any other heist they’d done together. They’d executed the plan perfectly, chaos had stepped in to mess it all up, things looked darker than ever, but by the skin of their teeth, they’d pulled it off. Because they were the best in the business.
Even if… even if it left a mark on them.
Glancing into the mirror, it wasn’t that bad. She’d never been so big on asymmetry, but it did work out for her look alright. Whatever power Blue Eyes’ Semblance had, it either needed a fresher wound or he needed time to regenerate the aura he’d lost resurrecting Roman. And if it didn’t work… well, Neo could live with it. The burns down the side of her face weren’t exactly concealable, but they gave her a jagged look that, in Neo’s opinion, made her look more mature. Rare to see someone her age in her line of work without a few scars, and she’d earned hers against the sort of foe most people didn’t even know existed. There was something respectable in that.
Roman had even gotten her an eyepatch with a skull-and-crossbones motif, which she felt was a very sweet gesture.
A polite knock on the door—telling Neo exactly who was on the other side—called her away from the mirror. She had no way to answer the knock, which the other side realized pretty quickly as she said, “Oh! Um, if- if I can come in, um, c-could you, um… clap? Th-this is Pyrrha, if you didn’t… didn’t know by my voice, um...”
Neo was sorely tempted to let her keep going. There was some sport in exploiting the awkwardness polite society had with her disability, and seeing Pyrrha flustered was, in Neo’s opinion, quite adorable. But she wanted the company and didn’t want to put Pyrrha through more of a guilt trip than she already was going through, so Neo clapped her hands in a quick applause, and the door soon opened.
“Hey...” she said as she snuck in, trying to mask her reaction to the scar and eyepatch. “I… I wanted to talk to you, to… to thank you. I couldn’t have fought Cinder on my own and...” her voice grew soft, “And… thank you for taking the Maiden power. It’s… it’s selfish of me, but even in the fight, I couldn’t shake from my head what would happen if I was the one that… finished her. If I became the Maiden.”
In a lot of ways, it was better that Neo was the one with the power. She already lived her life with a number of targets painted on her back, and taking up supernatural powers really didn’t interfere with her current life of just stealing things when she felt like it. No promising tournament career ahead of her, no Beacon education that would have to be cut off. And yet… it did sting to know that it could have been Pyrrha, the responsible one, the peerless warrior, the Invincible Girl, who could have taken on this responsibility. Who could fight a Maiden as an equal, who would be able to live up to the expectations of power.
Pyrrha seemed to understand what she was thinking as she bowed her head. “I promise you, I promise… I won’t leave you. I’m in this with you and Uncle Roman, and I won’t… I can’t not stay with you. I promise, and… and I don’t go back on my word, especially because… because you’re family, Neo.”
That caught Neo by surprise, her eye opening wide as she looked to Pyrrha. She had thought it, of course, but hearing it, hearing Pyrrha say it, the girl Neo was just remembering had so much more in her life, it… it was hard not to be touched. Pyrrha placed a hand on Neo’s arm, and they shared a smile between them.
Pyrrha then flashed an impish grin and added, “Hey, just because we’re romantic rivals doesn’t mean we’re any less family. Boys are one thing, but we don’t have to let that come between us.”
But hearing that brought a note of pain to Neo. Blue Eyes was- no, Jaune was sweet. And yes, cute. But the sweetness was a problem. Neo was a flighty sort, someone who loved them and left them, moving on to the next infatuation or obsession that struck her. And now she was the Fall Maiden, someone who… had other focuses in life.
Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, she was about to write until...
They heard the door open and turned to see Roman standing in the doorway, shocked.
“How did you...” he mouthed as he saw Pyrrha there, “Nevermind, I’ve learned by now I can’t keep you from coming here and I shouldn’t be surprised a military cordon can’t keep you out of here,” he sighed. “But it’s… good you’re here. I think you know you’re a part of this, whether I want you to be a part of it or not.”
Pyrrha just smirked. Neo did as well. Having an ally in making Roman’s life hell was something she didn’t realize she ever wanted this much.
But Roman continued. “I met with Ozpin’s people, and, yeah, they’re not… the most diplomatic bunch. But I got through to them, and… we’re part of the ‘team,’ I suppose you could say. They don’t like it and they don’t like me, but they’ve opened up a lot of what they know about Salem-”
Salem. Neo’s eye narrowed in anger as soon as she heard the name. Vengeance was a law of the streets, and having ended Cinder’s life wasn’t enough, not for the debt she’d racked up. Having a target gave Neo something to direct that unsatisfied rage towards, and no matter how secretive, how well defended this woman was, Neo knew that nobody was ever truly safe. She’d seen enough people she once thought were invincible fall to their own arrogance—Salem would just be the latest in a long line.
But Roman paused as he saw the look on Neo’s face. “Ah… about that… listen, you and I, we’ll talk about Salem later, she’s… she’s not exactly what I thought we were up against, but, for now, our first order of business is seeing if we can find where her lackeys have holed up, see if we can bring them in and get more of what Cinder’s real plan was.”
Neo nodded at that. Working her contacts, showing the scar, and letting people know she wanted payback on the ones that did that to her would get results. And the kids were out of their depth here, stranded in Vale without their leader. They’d be trying to book it, back to… wherever their base of operations was,, but Neo already knew in her mind what routes they’d likely take to get out of the city… it’d be a good way to put her back in the field.
“And… and as for me?”
Neo glanced to Pyrrha, who seemed unnaturally timid. She’d always been just about the boldest person Neo had ever met, possibly second to her uncle, whether from the first day Neo had seen her in person, storming up to Jaune and confronting him on his transcripts to the way she fearlessly thrust herself into the criminal underworld… seeing her uncertain was an unpleasant experience.
Roman nodded. “Yeah, they… they don’t know it was you, but I think they won’t be waiting long to start investigating things and realizing that you and your friends… had a hand in all this. I’ve got promises that Cinder’s ‘unwitting associates’ won’t face any consequences, but I’m not going to give them any credit on their word just yet. I’m hoping I can bring in her brats and use that as leverage.”
Neo felt the grin return to her face. She was already looking forward to hunting down Legs and Greenie, knowing that she was doing it for Pyrrha as well as herself made it feel… made it feel generous. Neo wasn’t a generous person, but thinking of this like something she was doing for someone else made her feel good.
But there was a lot more clearly going on in Roman’s mind. Bits of his meeting with the Beacon leadership, bits of what he meant when he said Salem was “not exactly what I thought we were up against,” but moreso, Neo could see that Roman was still struggling with the guilt and regret he’d amassed over a lifetime. Having actually died appeared to be a game changer. They were both in a new world now, and both of them were caught with realizing how ill-prepared they were for leaving their lives of covert lawlessness and quiet criminality.
That Roman’s new life meant returning to his old one, the one he had before Vale, meant he now had to catch up with all those complicated feelings he might have gone his whole life without having to address. But not anymore. Neo gave Roman a long, meaningful look. They had time for the two of them to talk about the future, to make plans and figure things out. But they could do that later. Right now, he had something else to do, and Neo wasn’t about to let him think he could avoid it.
A message that got through to Roman. “Ah, Pyrrha?” he asked, his fingers nervously drumming on his cane, “Would you mind… could we speak outside?”
LINE BREAK ROMAN
Months ago, Roman had scheduled a meeting with his niece in a warehouse, thinking he’d give her a warning about a dangerous fraud on her team and then keep his distance until he’d see her perform in the Vytal Tournament. He hadn’t thought that dangerous fraud would end up dating his niece anymore than he thought he would nearly die in that warehouse—hell, he did die in that warehouse, no matter what anyone might say. That was no hallucination, he saw his late mother… another thing he had no way of foreknowing when he saw his niece for the first time in half a decade.
And now, he was a partner to a global conspiracy involving immortal witch-queens, magical warriors, and a literal war with the gods that made him still think they were pulling his leg if it wasn’t for the fact that not a single person in that room was a halfway-decent liar. But that wasn’t the biggest change, not by a long shot.
The biggest was that he was having a quiet conversation with his niece, the one he thought he’d never see again after he left Mistral, the one he thought he’d gotten killed a day earlier. There were miracles of grace in this world more profound than the one that pulled him from the afterlife, and right now, he was feeling that as he glanced at Pyrrha. She’d really grown up to be an incredible woman, hadn’t she? The very image of her mother, and from what Neo had to say, an absolutely unsurpassed warrior. And… and someone who would sneak out of Beacon just to see him and Neo… the subtlety of a master thief with a heart bigger than anyone Roman had ever known.
Hell. He was liable to start crying if he didn’t get things under control.
“I...” he began, then his words stalled out as she looked at him, and in that moment… he saw the little girl he taught coin tricks and swordfighting, told her stories until she finally went to bed, told her that if there was a monster under the bed, she should just have a plan ready to get the jump on it... and felt the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears that began flowing as he felt her arms around him, as he responded in kind and whispered, “Thank you.”
They held each other for a while, the fuckup uncle and his surrogate daughter. In an extraordinary day, where he went up against a secretive cabal of world leaders to join in a fight against the Queen of the Grimm, the most extraordinary part was that he did it for love. For Neo, for Pyrrha, for the people who mattered to him… because there were people who mattered to him. Because he wasn’t alone in the world. And realizing it now, it almost took Roman to his knees.
As they broke the hug, Pyrrha wiped a tear from her own eyes, then asked, teasingly, of course, “Does this mean you’re okay with me and Jaune?”
Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Jury’s still out,” he grunted.
“He saved your life!” she protested.
“If a paramedic had saved my life,” he shot back, “I’m, what, supposed to let him date my niece? That’s not how this works, kiddo.”
Pyrrha folded her arms across her chest. “Then you’re going to have to see a lot more of him, until he wins you over.”
Even as he tried to look stern, Roman couldn’t help but laugh. “Maidens, you… hell, I’m gonna have to find a new curse, aren’t I! But come on, Pyrrha, you keep bringing him round and I can’t guarantee that the Malachites might not get slipped some lien under the table to take him out of the equation…”
“So you’re telling me I have to make the Malachites fear me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re starting to sound like a crime lord,” he replied, his own eyebrow raised in reply.
“Runs in the family,” she shot back, and they both had a laugh. This… this was nice… but nice things, Roman knew, were fleeting. Time caught up to you sooner or later, and the look in Pyrrha’s eyes told him that the time was coming. He gave her a nod, a silent signal that she could say what she needed to.
“I called Mom.”
Roman’s blood went cold. There were many things he was afraid of, some of which he didn’t know to be afraid of before yesterday, but his sister was still at the top of the list.
“I didn’t… I didn’t tell her everything. But she knows that I’ve been in contact with you. And-”
“Oh gods...” Roman moaned, remembering the white hot, livid fury on Cesty’s face as she told him she’d kill him if he ever spoke to Pyrrha again. And while the threat wasn’t one she could realistically carry out, Roman, who had actually died in the recent past, knew that her anger scared him more than anything his mortality held over him.
Pyrrha gave a sympathetic nod. “She’s… not happy. With either of us. But she’s coming down, to Vale, for the Tournament. And… and I think you two should talk. And I think I’m going to make you two talk. Because… because it’s not right for-”
“Pyrrha...” he croaked, only to be cut off as Pyrrha’s eyes flashed with authority.
“Because it’s not right for us to just be locked in the past!” she cried, “Banishing you was wrong, and Mom and Nonna shouldn’t have done it. Because… because I needed you as a child and I want to be in your life now. And maybe Mom hasn’t forgiven you,” Roman felt an icicle down his spine, “but I want us to be able to talk. That’s all.”
Ooof.
Confronting the supreme General of the Atlas military had been one thing. Even when the Deputy Headmistress introduced his chin to the carpet, Roman was confident he had the upper hand. With Cesty… Roman was always and forever the screwup little brother whenever he thought of her. But Pyrrha had him in a vise—there wasn’t really a way out of this.
“Okay,” he groaned, “You got me. I will, but no promises how it’ll turn out. Your mother is-”
“My mother,” she answered, “I’ve known her literally all my life, yeah. But… it’s been five years. We’ve all changed a lot.”
But then Roman cringed, remembering another detail. “Speaking of the Tournament,” he said, rubbing his arm, “You… you’re gonna need a new sword, aren’t you? Cause of...”
But Pyrrha just shook her head. “Yeah, I need a new sword, but I’m thinking a new weapon’s in order,” she said with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, “something… Igni. For the side of my family that cared for- that wanted me.”
Roman chuckled. “Well, a triple mechashift short sword/rifle/javelin in the Igni fashion might be a tall order, but I know a weaponsmith with a gambling problem who’s a payment short-”
“No,” she shook her head, “More than just a replacement weapon. Whole new look. No more bronze armor, I wanna go all in on what my family stands for. I’m thinking... cat burglar.”
Putting a hand to his forehead, Roman groaned, “Pyrrha...”
But she kept going. “So I’ll wear a black catsuit and-”
“Absolutely not!” Roman choked out, refusing to imagine his niece in something so… indecent!
“Oh? How about femme fatale, where I-”
“No,” he growled.
Pyrrha flashed him a grin. “Trust me, I’ll find a way to incorporate some family traditions into my new look.”
Roman groaned. “If you’re trying to give your mother and I some common ground, could you at least make it something that doesn’t give the both of us gray hairs?”
Pyrrha laughed. And Roman couldn’t help but laugh too. Provided, of course, that she was joking about the catsuit. But the two of them laughed, an easy, infectious, carefree laugh that grew bolder and bolder as they laughed together, like they did when she was a child and he was only a Junior Academy dropout with ambition. And even if the both of them were a lifetime removed from who they were five years ago… she was still Pyrrha. And he was still her Uncle Roman.
And no matter what insanity they were sure to go through, all the changes that’d make up the next five years of his life… as long as he had Pyrrha and Neo, and so long as they still had each other, they could face the world.
Maybe he was less enthused about certain young men possibly being there… but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he was just going to give his niece a hug and enjoy the moment he, twice over, never thought he’d experience again.
And that would be enough.
