Chapter 11: Reflections

"Do you have some time to talk?"

Qrow turned around in surprise, the voice snapping him out of his thoughts. "Oh...hey, sis. What, do you have something on your mind?"

Raven sighed, and slowly sat down beside her brother. Qrow noted that she was acting rather differently than usual. There was none of the confident allure that he'd always seen in her posture; rather, her shoulders were slumped, and she was gazing downward with a sad, almost mournful expression. The Raven he'd known all his life gave off the impression that she was always in full control of the situation, but for the first time in a while, he saw what she looked like when that mask was peeled away. She looked… afraid.

"I suppose you could say that," she muttered. "It's just that… lately, I've been wondering whether anything we did really mattered."

"Whether it mattered?" Qrow blinked, feeling shocked that his sister would even bring up that question. "What do you mean? Like, all the time we spent at Beacon? We met Tai, Summer and all the others, didn't we? We both got even stronger than we were back in the tribe. We saved the kingdoms - more than once! Of course it all mattered!"

His sister nodded slowly, but her eyes simply stared blankly ahead, as if she hadn't registered his words at all. "We did, but… what about our original purpose? I thought this was all for them - for the tribe. We thought they were all gone, and all we could do was become strong so that we could someday avenge them, and then their souls could rest in peace."

Qrow felt his heart sink when Raven mentioned their tribe. "But that turned out to be lie - they're still alive, or at least some of them are," he pointed out. "So who cares if that was why we originally went to Beacon?"

"Exactly my point," Raven hissed, gritting her teeth as she fidgeted with the blade at her hip. "Without the tribe, we had nowhere to go. We became Huntsmen because it gave us a purpose in life. But now… now we have a chance to go back. To return to the life we thought we'd lost."

Qrow sighed. He knew it was a rude thing thing to do, even if they were siblings, but he couldn't help it. It was rather strange when he thought about it - he and Raven were twins, yet her memories of their life with the tribe were far more vivid than his ever were. Could that be why he had no desire to return to his old existence?

"You're really talking about that again? Sis, we're not going back there. You and me… we're not the same people that were raised by the Branwen tribe," he tried to explain. "All we can do is move on."

"How can you say that?" Raven snapped, just as he'd feared. "They're our family - the only family we have!"

"Oh, bullshit!" Qrow couldn't stand what his sister was saying; there was no way she truly believed in any of that nonsense, was there? "You saw what they did to Tai - y'know, your boyfriend? Don't you know what's happening with him right now? He's in the hospital, and apparently he's hurt so bad he might never be able to fight again!"

He saw Raven flinch for just a moment, and he knew he had to continue. Qrow may not have been much of a Branwen, but he knew to strike whenever he saw an opening. "Even if they're… our family by blood, they're not our real family anymore! We've been on our own just as long as we've been part of the tribe, and we've even made new families since then!"

His gaze moved to meet Raven's, who was now staring at him in utter shock. Of course his words were shocking, likely even blasphemous to her, but he knew she had to hear them. "...Well," he muttered. "Maybe some of us have been making families in more ways than one."

Raven flinched, and instinctively placed a hand over her belly. "You knew?" she asked.

"I had a feeling," he admitted, the pit in his stomach growing deeper by the second. "I mean, I didn't know until you just confirmed it for me, but call it a sort of brotherly instinct, I guess?"

She didn't respond, simply turning away from him as if in disdain. Well. At the very least, that's closer to the Raven I know, he thought. And if that makes me happy, then it really shows how much this current situation sucks.

"Well, little brother, since you seem to know all of my secrets," Raven finally said, her voice as sharp and cold as steel. "I presume you've also figured out where I've been recently?"

Qrow snorted. "Now that part isn't even hard to figure out, brotherly instinct or not. You're not exactly gonna disappear on me to go to the candy store or anything, that's for sure. No, you've been going back there, right?" He scowled at her. "Chumming it up with the guy who nearly killed the father of your kid? It's not even been born yet, and already you're a contender for Mom of the Year!"

"I wanted to see our father again. Is that so much to ask for?"

"It is when he's our enemy now." It was not lost on Qrow that his sister had not even acknowledged her child or Tai at all, and despite himself, he found himself growing more frustrated with her by the second. "They're bandits, after all, plus they've been dealing with Salem. So as long as we're Huntsmen, they're our enemy just as much as the Grimm."

"Don't say that!" Raven yelled, very nearly drawing her blade on him. She immediately recoiled in shock, glancing at her sheath as if horrified at the thought that she'd considered, even for a moment, attacking her own brother. "Do they really… mean nothing to you at all?"

Qrow opened his mouth, but he was unable to answer. Sure, he'd soundly rejected the tribe during their confrontation at the camp, but he couldn't bring himself to say that he had no lingering attachment to them - blood relation wasn't something he could just ignore. The tribe had raised him, even loved him, regardless of their current… disagreements.

But times had changed. Whatever his life had been back in the Branwen tribe, he had moved on now… but Raven clearly hadn't, and that could be dangerous. There was going to be another battle with them soon, and it would be far bigger and more bloody than the little taste they'd gotten of the tribe's might. The Emerald Order would need someone as strong as Raven Branwen on their side, but that was starting to seem unlikely.

As sad as it was, as frightening as it was, Qrow was starting to realize the harrowing truth: that he could no longer count on his sister.

Mercifully, he was saved from this ever-so-slightly awkward situation by the ringing of his Scroll. Eager to focus his attention elsewhere, he opened it and was greeted by the face of Crowley Cloake, the young Huntsman's face bearing a far more serious expression that usual.

"Oh good, you're both here," he said. "Sorry to bother you, but we're gonna need you to head to Haven Academy right now."

"Huh? What's going on?" Qrow asked, confused by his sudden demand. "Is is the enemy? Are the tribe and the White Fang attacking already?"

"No, but… it is related. Just come quickly - we're gonna explain everything once you're here. You'll probably want to know about this." Without waiting for a response, Crowley ended the call.

After a pause, Raven sighed, and Qrow could feel the tension in the room dissipate, if only temporarily. Though he hated to admit it, for the second time he was genuinely grateful to Crowley Cloake.

"You have to admit, it's irritating that they only call us when they think we're needed," his sister muttered. "It feels as though they're just keeping us in the dark."

That's probably exactly it, Qrow thought. "Let's go," he said, grabbing his Scroll and his weapon as they prepared to leave. He had no idea what exactly Ozpin and Carnelia had in store for them, but at least things couldn't get any worse than they already were… right?

"What did we lose?" Harriet asked, standing in front of what had once been an office of the White Fang.

The damage was even worse than she'd anticipated. The building had been reduced to little more than smoldering ashes and bricks, and while the fire had been quenched some time ago, she hadn't been able to return to the scene until after the initial cleanup. Thankfully, no one had suspected any foul behaviour. A simple excuse of a faulty wire had been enough - a Faunus-owned building burning down was hardly a pressing concern around these parts.

"Some miscellaneous files were burnt to a crisp, though we managed to save most of the important ones," Sienna growled, pacing around the ruins. She gingerly picked up a large piece of the rubble, only for it to immediately crumble to ashes in her hand. "However, most of the weapons cache was lost. Of course, we had to destroy the rest of them anyway, or it would have been all over when the authorities arrived."

Harriet nodded, her expression unmoved. "We have plenty more across Mistral. Despite this minor setback I think we'll be perfectly fine."

Sienna's lips curled upwards into an unpleasant sneer, and as she walked towards the rabbit Faunus her expression was eerily like a genuine tiger's, leering menacingly at its prey. "You certainly love to talk that way, don't you? 'We'. 'Us'. We put our trust in you because you are a Faunus, but you'll never be part of the White Fang. We know perfectly well how many of our kind you've killed in pursuit of your goals. That isn't the Fang's way, and it never will be."

"Then the Fang is softer than I thought," Harriet replied coldly, unfazed by Sienna's silent threats. "Buck wouldn't have hesitated to dirty his hands on the path to justice and liberty, even if it was with the blood of his fellow Faunus."

"Oh, we're well aware of that name," the tiger Faunus said, letting out a short, disdainful laugh. "A violent savage like Buck London has no place in the true White Fang. He only did the things he did because we cut him out of our inner circle. He was desperate, and that was his undoing. Even without your machinations, he would have brought about his own downfall, sooner or later."

Though Harriet would never admit it, she knew that Sienna Khan had a point. Why would she have chosen Buck as her scapegoat, if she hadn't known that he would be laughably easy to manipulate? Even so, his gullibility had been rooted in a deep-seated desire for justice to be done, and if he had succeeded, he would have made more progress in bringing about Faunus equality than any of these milksops combined.

"The first time I heard of you," she said softly, "I was still a scared little girl, hiding on the streets and struggling for survival every day. I had nowhere to go - my enemies were everywhere, filling the streets, controlling the law, and governing the kingdoms. I happened to read a news report of a revolt in a small mining village, where a brave young Faunus had rallied her fellow slaves to overthrow their oppressors and escape."

Sienna smiled, some of the contempt leaving her expression as her feline ears relaxed. "Well, I'm always glad to see a soul touched by my good work, even if it's you."

"I kept that report with me for years," Harriet continued, "and I would look at it every time I lost hope and felt like nothing would ever get better. It was you who made me realize that change can happen, but we can only bring about that change in numbers. You had a small army helping you back then. This time, you'll have a far bigger army."

"It must be some army, to make this deal worthwhile," came Archibald's raspy voice as he approached the two, grinning eerily as the sunlight reflected off of his pale grey skin, revealing its true sharp nature. "The Branwens are a savage, violent lot, but perhaps the same could be said of all weapons. And if these weapons can make all of Mistral tremble at our feet like you say, girl, you'll have earned my trust."

"I can promise you, nothing would please me less," Harriet replied icily.

The tiger Faunus still seemed unimpressed. "If they're willing to follow into battle, and even then there's no guarantee of success. They'll be going up against all the Kingdom's Huntsmen - disciplined, fully-trained warriors - with nothing but superior numbers to their advantage."

"Their numbers are enough," Harriet insisted. "The destruction of Haven Academy is beneficial for both our parties. Once it's done, we can part ways and never have to see each other again."

"I'm looking forward to it," Archibald chuckled, leaving it unclear which part he was referring to.

Harriet knew that there was no more talking to be done; even if their conversation continued, it was unlikely that any further progress would be made. She had their trust - a shaky, reluctant trust, yes, but trust nonetheless - and that was enough. They had forged their alliance… now all she had to do was maintain it.

She turned back and returned to the van, a perfectly innocent delivery truck to the outside eye, and entered it. Numerous crates of glaives, guns, Dust vials, and other stolen weapons were piled up inside, disguised as shipping crates. In the corner of the room was a small makeshift bed, where a young woman lay on her side, motionless.

Harriet had a strange fondness for Moss Creedo. The two of them were the same age, yet she felt like she was much older than the insect Faunus. Part of that was because of the girl's short, youthful appearance, but there was also something more: Moss reminded Harriet of herself as a child; not in her young and naive days, but in the years after the War, when she was weak and terrified, before Salem gave her a grander purpose. Somewhere in her mind, she hoped she could show Moss a similar path.

"How are you feeling?" Harriet asked as she knelt down, gently placing a hand on Moss Creedo's shoulder. "I understand that your recovery might make a while."

"... I'm fine, I think," Moss murmured, slowly sitting up and rubbing her eye; she seemed to have been taking a nap. Harriet was glad to see she hadn't been too badly burned, but the smoke she'd inhaled would likely put her out of commission for some time, or at the very least hinder her. "I can... still fight."

"You should rest first," Harriet insisted, as gently as she could. "You're in no shape for battle right now. You might feel fine, but your injuries are worse than they look."

"That's exactly why I have to fight!" Moss yelled, her voice catching in her throat as she began to cough violently. Once the fit passed, she took a few short, gasping breaths, and continued. "I got hurt because… because of that girl. The same girl who hurt Psycha. She left me to die in that fire! That's… that's the sort of evil things that humans do…"

The girl… Summer, Harriet thought. She recalled her encounter with the young Huntress the other night, and remembered their battle back at the Oasis. Summer Rose was indeed a fierce warrior, a far cry from the shy, insecure girl she'd befriended on their first day at Beacon. Harriet, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all - she'd simply discarded her old mask for another. It was foolish, she supposed, to be wistful of the old days, but thinking about the time she'd spent at Beacon with Summer, Heather and all the others did feel nice.

"I understand your anger," she reassured Moss. "But human or not, I wouldn't hold it against her. She is a Huntress, after all, and from her perspective we're the enemy. It's only natural that a Huntress would show no mercy to their enemies. After all, we'd do the same to them."

Looking down glumly, Moss fidgeted with her beret. "The enemy? So does that mean we're the bad guys?"

"I'm saying that to them, we certainly look the part," Harriet replied. "But to us, it's humanity that's evil. An evil we have to fight. No one can say which perspective is truth, but it doesn't matter - all we can do is look out for our own." She felt a tinge of sadness as she spoke: if 'her own' were her friends and family, those were all long gone. But if her own were the Faunus as a whole, then she had an species worth fighting for.

And to fight for the Faunus, she'd have to give them the thing they wanted above all else: equality. The path to their dream was wrought with hardship and bloodshed; this was something she'd always known. That was why Harriet had steeled herself to cut down any enemy in her path, without hesitation. She was no Huntress, and she never would be, but she still knew that the only way to bring about peace was to be merciless. To save her allies, she would have to destroy all her enemies first.

"... Okay, I'll rest." Moss said quietly, looking up with a steely gaze in her eye, "I'll recover, and get my strength back. And when the battle comes, and I see her again…" She flashed a smile at Harriet. "I'm going to kill her."

Harriet smiled back. "Now that's the spirit."

The old man stood in front of the capsule, leaning forward on his cane as he observed what was inside. The figure of a beautiful young woman lay motionless behind the glass exterior, her expression calm and relaxed, as though she were experiencing the most pleasant dream of her life.

It would be far better if Aurora Fox were to never wake up, and realize that her peaceful dream was, in fact, a horrific nightmare.

The man smiled as he touched the glass, taking a moment to simply marvel: to anyone else, the sleeping girl would appear to be just an ordinary woman, nothing more than one unremarkable specimen in a sample of millions. But he knew that this was hardly the case; what he had in his possession was something few could ever dream to possess, and those who had tried were always met with spectacular failures. Quite simply, he had a subject that was truly one in a million.

"Hey, Dad." He turned around as he heard a young man's loud, abrasive voice. Ragna Branwen was storming into the room, his spectacled eyes widened with excitement. "How long are you just gonna stand there looking at a popsicle, huh?"

"I'm simply admiring it," Luka replied, smiling at the sight of his son. "One of the Four Maidens… an ordinary, unremarkable human… yet within, her body possesses the powers of the gods. And they say mankind was never meant to have such power? We are among the few who know the truth, and we'll show the world, in time."

"It's pretty crazy, isn't it?" Ragna chuckled. "I bet we could blow up half of Atlas if we convinced our little sleeping beauty here to let loose. We're gonna be setting off some fireworks soon, right? Right, Dad?"

His father just laughed softly. "That time will come, but for now, our sights should be laid elsewhere. On that subject, I can see you have something you want to say, son."

Ragna nodded eagerly. "Yep! I finally found it. The lost Kingdom, Eden… it's somewhere out there in Mistral. Well, not 'in' Mistral, of course, but we've finally narrowed it down a good amount. Looks like our dream's finally within reach."

"Excellent," Luka said. "And what about our… other friends? Have you heard any news from them?"

"It's all going off without a hitch. Those Huntsmen sure are something though, huh? Guess we shouldn't expect anything less from our dear ol' Qrow and Raven." Ragna flashed an inquisitive smile at his father. "Still, there's a lot of room for something unexpected to happen in the near future, and we wouldn't want that. Should we give them a push in the right direction?"

Luka Branwen considered this for a moment, but shook his head. "... No," he said. "For now, all we'll do is wait - and see what unfolds."

A/N:

Another shorter, more low-key chapter, but if you're here for action and plot development don't worry, they're coming real soon.

I'm going to try a different schedule for a while: I'll alternate weekly between a chapter of Stark, and a chapter of my new fic, Ashes To Dust (a pseudo-rewrite of RWBY), and see how well that works. That way I'll have more time to plot out chapters for both stories while also avoiding burnout.

Cheers,

donutkirby