It was the sound of the breeze whistling through the trees that finally stirred Jaune from his slumber. His eyes cracked open slowly, wincing at the bright light that lazily shown through the small pane window in Cinder's room.

Cinder's room.

His eyes opened wide for a second, instinct taking over at the unfamiliar setting. However, whatever he was going to do next was cut short by the shifting of the covers next to him. Jaune's heart calmed as he remembered the events of the night before, and smiled as he saw Cinder's normally prim and perfect hair all tousled and scattered about. He could only see her hair though, as the rest of Cinder was completely enveloped in blankets and pillows. Their legs were still entangled, and he wasn't exactly eager to untwine.

Jaune settled back into the warmth of the covers, feeling a quiet contentment he hadn't ever felt in living memory. Cinder absently shuffled a bit closer to him, her evenly spaced breathing informing Jaune that she was still fast asleep. Not wanting to risk waking her, he tried not to move, instead slowly scanning the one room in Cinder's home he had never been in. Jaune felt almost like an intruder, having crossed that final threshold of privacy that had divided.

And honestly… it didn't look anything like he would have expected. Clothes, both their own from the night before, along with various outfits he recognized from his days spent with Cinder lay scattered all over the room. The queen-sized bed took up quite a bit of space, but Cinder had managed to fit in a small dresser, a wardrobe closet, a desk and a small chest at the foot of the bed. Leaning against the wall, on top of the dresser was a mirror, one that looked like it had been roughly cut out of a larger piece.

The dresser was weathered and looked ancient, as did the wardrobe. Like the rest of the house, Cinder's room was obviously heavily used. Hanging off the handle of the dresser was her ever present eyepatch. It felt a bit jarring to see it hanging there, but it was quickly taken over by the desk. It was plain, and relatively new, with little actually sitting on it.

A small, half burned candle sat in a small metal tray in the far corner, alongside a small leatherbound journal. Jaune didn't think much of those, after all Cinder was a private person and was entitled to her own thoughts.

What really caught his attention was the discoloured picture sitting in a weathered picture frame. It was small, probably from some old polaroid back in the day. Jaune looked back to Cinder, still completely bundled up and dozing peacefully.

Carefully, Jaune untangled himself from Cinder, sliding out of the bed. He picked up his crumpled pants off the floor and slipped them on, trying not to make any noise on the old floorboards. He made his way to the small table, daintily picking up the picture farm and holding it up to the morning light.

It had clearly been through a lot, the picture itself sporting numerous folds, stains and rips. The top half of the picture had begun to fade away completely, while the whole thing seemed drained of most colour.

Even then, the contents were still clearly visible.

It was a picture of man kneeling on the grass, holding a fishing rod in one hand with his other wrapped around the shoulders of a young girl. He had short, cropped hair and a thick mustache, while his eyes were crinkled with mirth as though he had been caught mid-laugh.

Jaune's breath caught in his throat as he looked at a beaming Cinder Fall, clutching some sort of river trout with both hands, struggling to stand upright. She couldn't have been more than eight in the picture, but it was definitely her. Jaune couldn't help but smile as he pictured the powerful, intelligent and historically malevolent Cinder as a wild haired, scrawny teenager.

"He was a good man."

Jaune jumped at Cinder's voice, turning around and giving her a sheepish look. He didn't put the photo down though, and instead moved back towards her and sat back down in the bed. She didn't look upset. Not about the photo, him being in her room or what they had done the night before. She did, however, smile sadly at the photo.

"In all my time, with everything I've done, I can say with confidence that there is no truly selfless and merciful person on Remnant. But… he did right by me, he always did," Cinder said, reaching a hand out to carefully take the picture out of Jaune's hands, which he let her do without any resistance.

"We didn't have a lot, but he made time for me. He was the kind of man who would always make sure he came home with enough food to feed you and at least an hour to listen to you babble about your day." Cinder leaned back, setting the photo on a small bedside table before turning back to Jaune. "One time, he woke me up after I had gone to bed, since he was out late working with the mayor. Said he wanted to know about my day so he could ask the Brother Gods for a better one tomorrow."

"What happened?" Jaune asked quietly, and Cinder sighed.

"Nothing, at first. I decided I wanted to run off and be a huntress, with absolutely no training and no direction. Was tired of the small town with the same things happening day in and day out. My dad wasn't a fighter, but he gave me all the lien we had, some Dust and put me on the next transport out of town. I was only thirteen, but he contacted an old friend who said she could help me get into a junior school in Mistral. I came back a few years later and he was gone."

Jaune let out a breath and rubbed a hand down his face. It was all too common for towns deep in the wilds to disappear, at least back then. Now every town was on the frontier.

"Grimm?"

"No, and not bandits either."

Jaune shuffled closer to her, sitting next to her and slipping his legs under the blankets. His hand found hers, and Cinder instantly tightened her grip on his hand. "Pneumonia. He overworked himself, and without the proper healthcare out there…" she trailed off.

The two sat in silence for a while, as Jaune mulled over what she had just told him.

"Did you know your mother? You haven't mentioned her."

"No, but maybe that was for the best. I'd like to think my best features are my own," Cinder said, with a small smile, resting her head on Jaune's bare chest. She was hot to the touch, but it felt like the warmth of a campfire rather than the heat of a blaze.

Jaune let out a contented sigh, reaching up a hand to absently stroke her tousled hair. "So," Jaune said, holding back a laugh as Cinder grunted into his chest.

"So."

"Two whole weeks? I'm surprised, Cinder Fall. You seem like the kind of woman who takes what she wants."

Her hand pinched his from underneath the blanket, and she lifted her head to shoot him a playful glare. "As I'm sure you can remember, I did take what I want."

Of course he remembered. Jaune wasn't sure he would ever be able to forget. The memory was seared into his brain. Jaune let the blush show on his face as he let out a good natured laugh, which Cinder matched.

"This… this is nice," Cinder said, after a few moments of good-natured silence settled between them.

"Yeah," was all Jaune needed to say, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. The two laid there for a long time, just enjoying the comfort of each other as the breeze picked up and kept the room from getting too warm.

Jaune could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, taking the time to sleep in and do absolutely nothing. He hadn't done that since his days before Beacon, when his mother would forget he was still asleep and he was content to lounge around for as long as he wanted. A morning without anything to do… it felt like a surprise vacation.

It wasn't meant to last, sadly, as Cinder grunted next to him and slowly untangled herself from his arms. Jaune whined slightly, and Cinder leaned back in to kiss him daintily on the lips. "I'll be back in a few minutes, sit tight." Jaune frowned slightly but let her go, and she slipped out from underneath the covers, naked as the day she was born. She tossed on an old loose shirt he hadn't seen before and a fresh pair of linens, only stopping to roll her eyes at Jaune's appraising stare.

"Keeping busy?" She said with a smirk.

"Eh, could be busier," Jaune said, curling up into the recently vacated blankets.

"Agreed, though that reminds me. I was talking to Mrs. Larson at the festival yesterday, and she asked about you." Cinder said as she pulled on a pair of shorts.

"Oh?"

"She was wondering if she could put in an order with you over the next couple of weeks."

"I don't follow."

"She saw some of the kids running around with new toys, and was wondering if she could barter with you to make some for her grandkids. She's got quite a few, and her husband is a blacksmith about a few miles east of here. Would be worth bartering with her for some repairs to your armour." Cinder tied her hair into a ponytail and stepped through the door, though a second later she put her head back through it and added "I took the liberty of accepting on your behalf, by the way."

"Huh. Well, I appreciate it, not that I have a choice," Jaune said. "And besides, I can probably swing by that way for a few days before I keep heading south."

The smile on Cinder's face faltered slightly, "Right. Sounds good." And with that, she finally slipped out of the room.

Jaune untangled himself from the blankets, finding himself uncomfortably hot as the idea of him leaving this cabin hit him. He had been in Angort for about a month and a half , but it felt like he had been here for ages. Jaune hadn't really been apart of a community in almost ten years now, since he split with Weiss and her group.

He had made friends and acquaintances, ones that he actually spoke to more than once. He laughed more in a week than he could remember out of all his time on the road. He had sold almost everything he owned and yet Jaune had never felt so wealthy in his life.

And that was it, wasn't it? It felt good but… maybe that was the point. Everything good has to end, so why wait for it to happen on someone else's terms. If he… there was a risk in staying put. Moving forwards had kept him alive all this time, but it didn't make him happy.

Cinder did.

And that scared him. He knew he made her happy too, or at least he thought he did. When was the last time he had enjoyed that with a person? It made him feel alive, but the fear of the frontier came back more-so than ever.

Jaune had lost so many people, could he risk caring about anyone else?

A part of Jaune's mind had hoped that to Cinder, this was just sex. That she didn't really care that deeply about him. That Jaune could take the heartbreak and move past it, because that was what he was best at.

"Jaune?"

Jaune looked up to see a concerned Cinder standing in the doorway, eyes watching him carefully. Jaune felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her, even though she was dressed exactly the same as before. Thinking about her leaving was hard, but thinking about it when he looked at her… it was impossible. She held the sketchbook he had always seen her with in her hand, thumb resting in the crook of a page.

"Is everything alright?" she continued, nervous as she stared at him.

"No, I was just- just thinking… is all," Jaune stuttered slightly.

Silently, Cinder made her way next to him on the bed, slowly sitting down on top of the covers. She leaned against his shoulder, before placing a small kiss against his neck. The two didn't share words. Instead, Cinder quietly slid the sketchbook into his hands before quickly stepping out of the room again.

Jaune stared after her dumbly before turning his attention back to the weathered leather binding in his hands. A symbol was carved into the front of the book, possibly with the end of a knife. It was a tree, with a small flame sitting in its roots. He had seen it around the house, and remembered seeing Cinder doodle it on the door he had made.

Tentatively, he opened it to the first page.

He felt his mouth grow dry at the unmistakable view. Sketched inside was the view from Beacon's once illustrious CCT tower, within the ruined remains of Ozpin's office. Cinder had captured the sprawling expanse of the city, with it curving in the horizon much like how Jaune remembered it. But that was where the similarities ended. The small nature of the sketchbook made it hard to make out the details, but the message she had intended to send was clear enough.

The city had been flattened, with only ruined crumbles and smoke drifting endlessly out from the former pillars of civilisation. Jaune's eyes combed the picture over and over, eking out every detail. He hadn't gone to Vale because, well, it was a deathtrap. But even if it wasn't, it would have just locked him in his own head if he surrounded himself with memories.

Gulping, Jaune forced himself to turn the page, slowly flipping through the sketchbook as small notes and thoughts. Some were smeared with charcoal, others scribbled in with some ink she had clearly gotten her hands on and others with whatever she could get her hands on, apparently. Some were just simply lines capturing the shape of objects she found in the woods, others were slightly more gruesome sketches of burnt out landscapes.

Time seemed to flicker by as he absorbed every page, etching the details into his mind. He had seen several of Cinder's pictures throughout the household, but none of them had ever felt so… raw.

As he worked through the book, he occasionally shot glances up to the doorframe to see if Cinder had returned. Jaune had so many questions as he read through the notebook, with each page having more and more drawings being crammed into its margins. He wanted to know where they were made, what she used to make it, and countless others to just pick her brain.

Eventually he flipped a page towards the end of the sketchbook and he was faced with a blank page. Turning the last few pages revealed much of the same, leaving Jaune a bit confused. The last drawing had been of a cluster of rotting arrows stabbed into a tree, and most of the art had been scenery.

So where was the sketch for his picture?

As he went back to the first blank page, he noticed the remains of the page still stuck in the spine of the book. It had been very finely torn, and easily missed unless you had gone looking for.

Frowning slightly, he swung his legs over the bed and onto his feet. He immediately groaned from the soreness dancing and dancing had inflicted on him the night before. Shaking his limbs out and popping more than a few joints, Jaune hurriedly gathered his clothes off the ground and redressed himself. He stepped out of the room, sketchbook in hand. Cinder was nowhere to be found in the rest of the small cabin, but before Jaune stepped outside to look for her, he couldn't help but notice the small differences around the house. The floors were dirtier than they had ever been, and there were more dishes piled up in the sink than any reasonable adult should have. Rags, baskets, and materials were spread and thrown into available nooks and crannies.

It was far messier, for sure, but at the same time it was more… lived in. Chairs weren't perfectly tucked in, the firewood was low, and the pantry was in a constant state of being half empty. Jaune smiled at the sight, thinking about the times they had spent together, and how it had led them both here.

He had broken into her home and confronted her right by the door, and then a few days later was building her a new one. He had to let out a small chuckle as he shook his head, recalling his initial suspicion that she would poison him. Maybe it had been justified back then, but now all it made him do was cringe a little bit inside at just how cagey he had been.

Smiling, he pushed open the door and looked around the clearing. His smile faded and was replaced with a jolt of alarm when he didn't see Cinder resting outside. A quick tour around the house showed she wasn't in the garden either. Eyes narrowing, his mind quickly went through a list of possible explanations. Before it could finish though, he noticed that a small path had been cleared through the mildly charred leaves that coated the forest floor. It cut straight through the path of carnage they had torn up during that fight, and the mere sight of it made Jaune's stomach lurch.

He had nearly made one of the greatest mistakes of his life that night, and even thinking about it made Jaune shudder. Stepping onto the path, Jaune moved quietly and carefully through the woods. His caution had been all for naught, however, when he finally caught sight of Cinder.

She was sitting atop the stump he had made when he missed his swing, narrowly avoiding taking off Cinder's head and instead brutalizing the innocent tree.

She sat there, staring off into the air with an empty look on her face. Jaune fought back a frown and decided right then that he hated that look. It was a lie, a mask hiding the brilliance and vivid woman behind it.

"So, is me finding you on this stump going to be a recurring theme?" Jaune began, trying his best to probe exactly what was wrong.

The look on her face shifted just a fraction as she let out a snort, then collapsed as she quickly followed it with a sigh. "No, no I don't think it will." Cinder said, turning to face Jaune. "It's interesting though isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is." Jaune agreed, not needing an explanation about what she meant. She had been thinking the same thing he had.

"You know, you probably could have killed me on that first night."

"At the time I still thought you could rip me in half." Jaune snorted, "And if I remember correctly, when we did fight you actually could have."

Cinder didn't reply, her hand fidgeting in her lap. Disquieted, Jaune slowly closed the distance between the two of them. She flinched as Jaune wrapped his hands around her own, as though she was afraid of the contact.

"Is everything okay?" Jaune asked softly.

"Do you hate me?" Cinder asked suddenly, shocking Jaune.

"Wh-? No, no of course not. How co-"

"You should. You really should." Cinder said in a raspy whisper. "I don't deserve any peace, not like this. I took so much from you, I locked you into a war you never wanted. I took your home, your friends, your childhood, y-your entire life."

"Cinder…"

"It's true. I'll admit it," Cinder gasped, tears that had been held back behind stony composure poured out onto the forest floor. "I was the one who looked for Salem. My idea to crack open Beacon. Gods, I didn't even know who you were when you confronted me in Mistral! It was so unbelievable for someone who never mattered in the scheme of things to take anything I did so personally. And I didn't even care afterwards, I really really didn't."

Cinder looked directly at Jaune with a wild look in her eye, hand coming out from between his hands and grabbing onto his upper arm. "There's nothing I could possibly do to make up for all I've done. I spoke so highly of just living, as though moving on with your life is the best possible solution to simply existing. But how can I do that when I know, th-that even when the dust has settled I'm-"

Cinder cut off as the force of Jaune hugging her slammed into her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back, pressing her face against his shoulder. Jaune clenched his eyes, fighting back his own tears as Cinder wept softly against him. All this time, she had kept this bottled away under a veneer of indifference. Jaune could only wonder in horror how long she had been thinking about this. Since last night? A few weeks? Not that it felt like a betrayal, but realizing that Cinder still hadn't forgiven herself worried him more than anything else.

"How could you say that…?" Jaune muttered. He heard Cinder gasp quietly, and rushed to continue "How could you pretend that… Cinder, you've learned to live more in these past few years than most people do in their entire lives. You've harmed, but we can't live in the past anymore. We just can't. Ozpin and Salem did that, and destroyed the world with their war. Whether they deserved it or not, I've killed just as many as you have over the years." He blinked a few times, the water in them starting to overflow. "...and some of them definitely didn't deserve it."

Cinder's crying slowly calmed as he spoke, listening to his words as he continued, "And you… you're important to me…" Jaune spoke, choking on the words as he struggled to get them out. His neck felt flush with heat and fear ran down his spine. "And… the world would be darker without you and the beauty you breathe into it."

Silence prevailed between them as the words bounced back into Jaune's head, afraid of revealing how he really thought of her yet glad to have finally said it.

Slowly, Cinder unravelled herself from Jaune's grasp, eye still wet and face red with emotion. She opened her mouth to try and voice her thoughts, but closed it with a click after a few seconds. She gave Jaune's hand a quick squeeze before as she stepped off the stump.

She took a few steps out into the treeline, before reaching behind a cluster of trees and pulling out a large, cloth covered canvas.

"Could you grab my easel and set it up? I had it around here somewhere." Cinder asked with a steady voice, betrayed by her still red, puffy eyes. Jaune scrambled to get the small stand set up, like he'd seen Cinder do a hundred times now.

Carefully, she set the canvas down on its stand. She smiled weakly at Jaune as she stepped away from it. Jaune's eye's flickered between Cinder and the painting, not knowing if he was ready to see it, or run from it. Cinder saw it and snorted, despite the somber mood.

"Well, Jaune. A deal's a deal."

A/N: Hey guys! I'm still alive! This chapter took a lot longer to get out because I wanted to get it right and give you nothing less, I hope you understand! I was planning on writing this chapter and the next into one massive chapter, but I felt you'd all waited long enough. We're getting to the end of the story now, and I'm so freaking excited to get the second half of this one up. Let me know what you think, because I love hearing back from you guys!