Set just after the events of RWBY Volume 5, two blondes finding comfort in each other's strengths and weakness as they take on the most challenging foes that Remnant has to offer

Broken Blondes

Chapter 1: Bleak Beginnings

The world around her was dark, shadows playing at the edge of her vision. When she attempted to walk forward, the darkness was unchanged, seeming to radiate with a malice that she couldn't quite define while also not giving her any sense of actual progress. The coldness leaching into her bones sparked blazing determination in defiance of the darkness that sought to crush her spirit. She raised her fists…fist… her breath caught in her throat as she realized that she didn't have something crucial.

Her entire right arm… past where her elbow SHOULD have been, it just wasn't there anymore. In its place, an open wound, and with it, a searing pain, unlike any fire she had ever known, much less her own. The fire that should have given her a sense of comfort did nothing but amplify her panic. Her mind raced, realizing how completely out of her depth she was with only one arm.

The sound of demonic wing-beats added to the oppressive fear slowly spreading through every part of her, threatening to drown her racing mind. She tried to shift her focus to something else, anything else. Then she realized… she knew that sound… those wings "Mom?!..."

She called out into the blackness, hearing only her desperate voice echo back to her. "…MOM

In spite of her terror, a spike of bitterness hit her as she remembered last time she had seen her mother. A single tear formed in the corner of her eye. She attempted to fight it back, not wanting to shed a tear for the woman. The air around her seemed to echo some of the few words her mother had said to her, after all these years of searching, her ability to abandon her daughter out of her cowardice hurt unlike any punch she'd ever taken. It wasn't a typical, physical hurt like her arm… or rather lack of feeling. This pain hurt in the strangest way, right where her heart should be. She couldn't help but want to hit something, ANYTHING to alleviate the venom in her blood at that moment. The fire that was an integral part of her failed to spark, in this place where warmth somehow abandoned her.

As if aware of her thoughts, out of the shadows appeared a flame; more malicious than hers had ever been even at her most volatile. It slowly took shape and clarity. With this clarity a new, different, panic rose to her throat, threatening to suffocate her. She tried to move, knowing too well where she had seen that blaze of violence and rage once before, too late realizing her feet would not respond. Terror gripping her for the longest instant, stretching on for what felt like hours. A feeling of helplessness she could not escape was invading her very being as every instinct she possessed, honed after years of combat training and hardened by experience, screamed at her to do something she'd not considered in years. Turn tail and flee.

She tried to quiet her mind, allow her some control. The figure attached to the fire-like mop of hair materialized from the darkness. Into view came horns like a devil, strange patterns adorning it's clothes like Lucifer come to take it's wounded soul offering. The smile that cut itself from his almost featureless mask of a face sent ice down her spine, alien to her pyro-centric existence. This feeling was only compounded by the fact that his eyes were 4 inhuman slits, through which only an evil, blood red glow seemed to bleed demonically.

Her fear absolutely overwhelming her thoughts, she lashed out, only to be reminded of the absence of her gauntlets. Finally, she caved in an ear splitting scream, only to be drowned out by the agitated cawing of a raven.

As soon as it had begun, it ended. She awoke in a cold sweat, her bedspread soaked through. When she looked around, she found herself enveloped by darkness of a much cozier variety. Her eyes spotted the bedside table in the semi-darkness, falling to the only source of light in the entire room, a strange oriental lantern that appeared to glow with a benevolent, but unknown power. She remained as she was, sitting upright in her bed that was not hers.

Her thoughts wandered to what had happened when she had last held the lantern. The rush of information had overwhelmed her, driving her to her knees, tears escaping her eyes. In that instant, she suddenly knew, without knowing how, that her mother would run from any future conflicts, even as her daughter ran full speed towards them. The mere memory of that experience was enough for her to give the lantern a wide berth.

She took a moment to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow, deciding that sleep clearly wasn't an option tonight either. Swiftly rising from the light covers and replacing her sweat soaked night clothes with an orange tank top and black combat pants. It was one of the few outfits she had brought from her home on Patch with her, and it gave her comfort, chasing away the last memories of her dream. She had only been riding for what felt like a week before the events that led to her and Weiss arriving at Mistral, seeing her sister again. The outfit reflected her more practical mindset since… the event.

It was suitable enough, and when she was settled, she decided to move from her room, away from the memories that would plague her should she attempt to enter dreamland again. She would go to the kitchen squirreled away from the prying eyes of the dining room. As she closed her door, she looked down the hall to the other doors where her sister, Weiss and others were spending the night. She shook her head in frustration at the heaviness of her body, weighing her down with exhaustion. She sighed before setting off.

She looked to the large back window that dominated the open space as she was walking towards the kitchen. She saw beautiful stars just over the railing. She managed to get to the kitchen without incident, avoiding making noise that might rouse the others, as she wasn't feeling up to discussing anything now. Too much had happened in such a short time. This gave her a minute, away from anything important, to really take in the fact that she had been in Beacon academy just a few short months ago…Was it almost a year now? It was crazy to think about, really.

As she found a glass, and proceeded to fill it with water, she looked at her arms, both of them now, only one flesh and blood, so telling of the smallest changes in temperature. Her focus shifted to the metal arm, it was durable, lightweight, and didn't chafe at all against her skin, it was truly a marvel of engineering. She smiled at that, thinking back on how Ruby had pestered her with questions for hours after she had revealed that in addition to its primary focus, it came loaded with a firearm. It was similar enough in function to Ember Celica that it worked well in conjunction with her remaining gauntlet. It suited her natural choice of combat, hand to hand, and pump (or in this case punch) action shotguns. Her remaining bracelet was scuffed with years of use and abuse at her hands. Whether it was taking on a club, a forest, or even extremists she held nothing back. Just as strong as her combat skill was her quick wit.

She felt her semblance's flames tickling at the edges of her mind, slowly fading back to a more temperate ferocity as her mind settled. It was a constant feeling, over time she had learned to mostly tune it out and let the inferno flow through her, channeling it towards her goals. Now though, it served as a chilling reminder what happened when she moved without thinking… and what it cost her to let her emotions guide her.. That said, pain had always become her strength, and this loss eventually gifted her with a unique sense of clarity. The blaze would be something she would let course through her before, but was now a sickening weight on her mind.

She was walking back to her room when she heard it. Almost akin to the grunts and groans common to the sparring floor at Beacon, she quickly realized that someone was practicing on the balcony, away from everyone. Curiosity needled her, and without thinking, her motherly instincts kicked in. She HAD to see who was pushing themselves so hard, so late at night. What if her baby sister Ruby was pushing herself?

Nah, the grunts were male, which only led to a few options. Her mind settled, she quietly pushed the door to the side, to see a solitary figure, dressed in a black, tight fitting T-shirt, and jeans, his face hidden by the long rugged blonde hair, clearly soaked through with sweat, an indication that this had been something that hadn't just begun. His sword was sheathed, the sheath itself however was extended into two side blades.

He went through the last motions of what seemed to be a series. His actions were smooth and powerful, accentuating the muscles in his back as he swung the weapon with a grace that spoke of many months of practice. As his movements slowly came to a crescendo and then completion, the dual blade form of his sheath retracted smoothly back to a clear sheath shape. He dropped the weapon where he stood and without seemingly being aware of her, he walked to the balcony, where he shut off his scroll, which she realized had been playing some kind of video clip before he closed it.

He was looking away from her completely now, his head slumped, resting on his forearms. She could imagine his eyes downcast, as his body leaned on the railing over the great city of Mistral, it's lights twinkling in the midnight sky.

She didn't know what made her want to talk to him, maybe it was that this didn't seem like the first time he'd been out here practicing on his own, maybe it was out of duty to a fellow hunter, or her need to care for everyone she'd fought beside just a few days ago. Maybe it was the thought of being the one to bring a smile to so many faces with her brilliant sense of humor that compelled her. She wanted to change the look of the sullen figure before her.

The girl takes a deep breath, and silently she moves to the balcony, leaning on the railing. She takes a brief look at the view, smiling contently to herself for a moment. The many lights of Mistral made for an exquisite view, and she couldn't help thinking how serene the city was at night.

Eventually, she looked at him from the side again, her face the picture of curiosity and concern. He's clearly lost in thought, still not registering her existence. Not one to be ignored, she decides to nudge him on the elbow gently, no response. Then again, a little harder. "Jaune…. Are you okay?"

The serene brooding image she had of him shattered in an instant as the man, Jaune, jumps back, flailing and screeching in a high pitched voice before falling back from his perch on the balcony, groaning in annoyance. The sober mood was immediately replaced with a somewhat comical one as she struggles to keep from laughing outright. "Hey Yang… I'm fine. Just can't get to sleep. Thought I could tire myself out… It's been really difficult since… the relic."

Yang's thoughts come back to the lantern, still sitting on her bedside table, glowing. She didn't need any more reason to think of it. She decides to tease him a little, get him to laugh, hopefully change the direction of their conversation. "Gonna go on a panty raid with all the girls here now, eh Naughty boy!? Don't worry, I won't tell Weiss"

Jaune doesn't even really respond, his sober expression unchanging outside of a mild eye-roll. Realizing it probably felt like a random aside, she frowns, presented with a challenge. Ever the conversationalist, "What's on your mind there Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groaned audibly. He knew of Yang's propensity for wordplay, though he had rarely been the focus of it himself, outside of a few absolutely horrid nicknames. "I'm never going to live that down am I? For the record, I've gotten better with that since first year."

Yang rolled her eyes as he got up, mirth still evident on her features. "Pfft, okay Lady Killer, don't avoid the question, what's got you up at night? For real this time."

Jaune's expression morphed from irritated at her clear disregard for his real name to empty and hollow. He was paralyzed for a second before he came back to reality, looking almost questioningly at her. He seemed to be considering something, maybe a lie to cover up his real thoughts, before he sighed, admitting defeat. "Just… It's like every time I close my eyes, the worst decision I've ever made is right in front of me, and I need to open them again… remind myself… it's over…"

She half frowns, only just realizing how poorly chosen her nickname was, given recent events. She herself knew intimately a feeling of loss that shook her to her core. She absentmindedly moved her real hand to touch her metal prosthetic. All the same, she tried to remain positive, and tried to see it from Jaune's perspective. Someone had been mortally wounded because he hadn't acted. Weiss certainly wasn't exactly grateful for the gift of her life back either, given it was sort of his indecision that let to it being necessary at all, which didn't make things easier on him.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, "I can imagine it's pretty hard on you… but you have to look at the upside, Weiss is fine. Everyone made it out okay in the end. You will be ready next time… you have to be… and hey, maybe Cinder is gone forever now… who knows?"

At this, Jaune visibly winced, as though burned. Yang actually checked to see if her semblance had somehow managed to manifest without her knowing, but nothing had changed on her side, the burning sensation still only the outskirts of her eyes. She searched his face for clues, before his posture visibly relaxed a moment later, and his voice, though shaking a bit still, came out clear. "Yeah… next time… I know we can do this…" He seemed to perk up, and she could more clearly see his face was wet, whether from tears or sweat and exertion, it was honestly hard to tell, but he wore a shaky smile. She took small comfort in that, at least.

In a stronger voice, he finally asked, almost teasing now. "So… what brings the little dragon on a night prowl?" His attempt at bravado was undercut by his attempting to lean on his absent sword. His face became acutely acquainted with the floor in spectacular fashion, and Yang couldn't help bursting out laughing. "Smooooooth big guy."

Jaune looked up at her rather sheepishly, and she shook her head before offering her hand to him, he took it gratefully, before pulling on it. It came loose unexpectedly. He fell back and groaned, looking at Yang in irritation, who only wore a glassy expression. She was no longer looking at him, in his prone state, but almost like she was staring through him, at something in the distance. His irritation quickly morphed into concern, and he called out her name, voice shaking. It seemed that was all that was required to rouse her, before he handed her back her arm. "Careful Jaune, wouldn't want you getting handsy there!" Yang punctuated her joke by securing the arm back into its socket, while Jaune just groaned again despite Yang's laughter.

It was as Yang came down from her giggle fit that Jaune smiled, large and genuine this time. "You know what, it's nice to just laugh sometimes, nothing else to think or worry about. It feels like I haven't been able to at all since…."

His voice dropped off as he got a wistful look in his eyes, imagining a time before everything had gone so colossally sideways. Before the attack on Beacon, when things were just about fighting the Grimm and surviving every mission, about learning how his team functioned together, or chasing down the bad guys. "It feels like it's been 6 years since Beacon, not 6 months… 6 months since the last time I really knew what I wanted."

Yang, for her part, couldn't help but agree, despite what had happened last time they'd been there. Beacon had been such a fun and carefree place for her and her ADORABLE little sister. It had been satisfying seeing her develop into a competent leader after all the work Yang had put in over the years - even if she did leave the team to fight her battles alone a little too often.

Even when she was fighting Torchwick, the strange umbrella girl Neo, or in the Vital Festival, nothing had made her more excited than finding a challenge she couldn't beat at first; and finding a way to push past it - or as her dad put it… through it. Beacon had finally made all the jabs at her figure, despite being perfect in her opinion, feel like they mattered a little less. The immediate group's appreciation for her physical appearance wasn't what they judged her for, because there, in the heat of battle, for once, she was judged for her indomitable strength and power. It was something she thought she had lost with her arm.

Smiling to herself, she pulled Jaune up for real this time, taking specific care to use her flesh and blood arm, the words coming to her before she knew what she was saying, "Yeah, Beacon was definitely something I wish we could go back to, for sure…. But if I can't move forward, I don't think I'll ever be able to become stronger, like I need to be. Not just for Ruby… but for me"

He nodded, his steel resolve clear in his sapphire blue eyes, mirroring Yang's violet. Their moment, however, was not meant to last, and Yang turned at the sound of the sliding door opening. The figure cast a long shadow on her mind, even as the shadow from the indoor lights created a silhouette over her and Jaune. Her bright mood, which had sprung up as if from nothing during the short conversation, bleached to the melancholy from earlier.. Her whole body tensed, and she muttered a terse goodnight to Jaune, with promises to continue the conversation later. Jaune was utterly confused at the dramatic change in her mood, trying to shout after here as she was roughly brushing past Blake. The faunus herself seemed caught in headlights at the clear tension her interruption had wrought. Jaune was caught between. He tried to call to Yang to stay, but the words died at his lips as the door shut, and he was left under the amber gaze of one Blake Belladonna.

End of Chapter 1

A/N: So, that's the first chapter of Broken Blondes in the bank. I'd love to know your thoughts, whether I should keep going with this, if there is anything that feels out of character for the story from the original narrative. I tried to stay as close as possible to the natural behavior we had seen up to this point in RWBY, and I don't think it was too off, but I would love to know your opinions.

Leave your reviews, comments and all that good stuff and I'll be sure to check every one.

This story is intended to come out over a period of approximately 25-30 chapters most likely, but we will see how things develop as time goes by.

Gotta give thanks to my Beta's specifically Strandshaper.