Author's Note: Life stuff means I won't be doing a [patronage site FFnet won't let me say], so expect to see this story here weekly like one of my usual fics. I hope you enjoy it, and sorry for the delay.

Chapter 32

It's funny Yang thought. The last time she had held a vampire, it was screaming in rage, engulfed in a fiery essence as she wiped the last of her coven from the face of Remnant. Now all she wanted to do was take a vampire's pain away, as Weiss struggled and whimpered in her slumber.

Weiss' dreams had set in as she healed, first merely irritating her slumber. A week later had seen them affecting her physically. She cried out, growled and thrashed in her sleep, at times angry, others anguished. Yang could not peer into Weiss' mind, and she refused to discuss the visions. Petty nightmares that will never come to pass as the vampire put it. It did little to ease Yang's worry. Perhaps if Winter were present, she would be able to coax it out of her sister. Unfortunately, the former Templar had temporarily retreated to her mountain home, packing for a longer stay.

Once Weiss awoke, and squeezed Yang so hard she strained to keep her essence intact, she could do nothing more than hold her, blazing hot as she dared, whispering soothing words in her ear, running calming fingers through her hair. Tonight was worse. Weiss was fighting, clawing suddenly and sporadically, frustrated and anguished. Yang latched onto her back, nuzzled into the frazzled white locks as she weathered the storm. But the struggling ceased. Was this the calm?

"Weiss?" Yang whispered. The reaction was a shuddering, alien growl. It chilled Yang, to hear such an animalistic sound from her lover. And it shocked her to suddenly be shrugged off, the vampire growling and shaking as she staggered to her feet, hunched over. "Weiss, Snowball?"

Weiss ignored Yang, stamping forward, almost tearing the door off its hinges as she left the room. Yang scrambled after her, finding Weiss standing by the fire, the dull embers barely lighting the nearby table. Weiss' breathing grew more labored, her clenched fists trembling. Yang took a step forward, and Weiss struck, the table collapsing beneath her fist as though it were made of cardboard. Yang froze as Weiss began beating the broken remnants, angry, desperate growls punctuating every impact, until she finally halted, panting, hitching, clutching her head.

"Snowball?" Yang tried again.

Weiss stiffened, tilting her head to look up at the aspect. "Yang?" She croaked, voice weak, strained with emotion.

"I'm here Weiss." Yang assured, closing the distance and wrapping her in a warm embrace.

Weiss curled into her lover's chest, oddly fragile as she shook. "I'm sorry." She whispered between sobs.

"It's okay, I'm here, you're here, we're safe." Yang soothed, once again threading fingers through the vampire's hair. "I love you."

Weiss shuddered, clutching at the arms around her. "She turned you to ash." She admitted. "I-I couldn't stop it."

"It was just a dream Weiss." Yang rationalized, planting a kiss on Weiss' hair. "I'm here, I'm alive, and I will never leave your side. Not even death herself can change that." Whether the words had their intended effect or not, Yang could not tell. The former human continued to hitch and whimper into her chest, until finally she seemed to calm, breathing steadily into her skin.

"I don't want to go back to sleep." Weiss said at last. "Can you...tell me something...a story from your past?"

Yang smiled, chuckling in relief. "Sure...how about…" Yang searched for the right tale, something happy, fun, anything to distract from the stress and pain of the night. "...the time I was accidentally summoned by a little girl."

"By accident?" Weiss balked.

"Yeah!" Yang confirmed. "I was as surprised as she was...I even forgot to be all scary."

Weiss' laugh was the sweetest thing Yang had ever heard, especially now. She silently vowed to coax it free every day, until they both ceased to be.

Velvet awoke to a strange but familiar environment. Pitch black, yet she felt no pain, the blankets were soft around her, and the scent reminded her of home - jasmine tea with a hint of lemon. A flash of gold drew her gaze leftward, to two glowing eyes floating in the dark. "Blake?" She whispered. The familiarity made sense now. This breed of dark was far more pervasive than any mortal happening. It settled across the room like a blanket, thick and tangible.

"Good morning Velvet." Came Blake's smooth response. The click of china proceeded the eyes closing the distance, the back of a cool hand pressing against Velvet's forehead. "You don't seem to be running a fever."

"I'm not here because I'm sick Blake." Velvet could not resist smiling. The gentle chuckle from above did not help.

"Not this time, thankfully." Blake trailed her hand down Velvet's cheek, tapping her playfully. "Yet you are ailing."

Velvet sighed, grasping one of the many nearby pillows and holding it against her face, much to the shadow aspect's continued amusement. Blake had been a part of Velvet's life since her arrival as a scared little girl, lost and confused, clutching her grandmother's hand and flinching at every sound and movement. Glynda had paid a visit. The Good Witch of Patch as her grandmother had called the woman. All Velvet heard was witch, and her mind was sent amok. Tall, regal and intimidating, teeth gleaming in the sunlight, surely the witch wanted to cast a spell on her!

"I messed up." Velvet frowned.

Velvet remembered hiding in her room, clutching her doll and cowering in the corner. She could hear the muffled voices of the witch and her loving grandmother. How could she invite her doom into their home?! Then came a soft meow, small but expectant. She did not think to question the sudden appearance of a black cat, let alone one that seemed to absorb the very light around it. It was pretty, gleaming golden eyes and a loud purr that filled the room. It soothed her beating heart, and brought the first hint of true comfort she had experienced since that horrible night.

"You did." Blake agreed, as blunt as ever. "As was natural."

"I just...wanted what you have." Velvet explained.

"What I have is not for mortals to covet Velvet." Blake scolded. "What you want is a family."

"Can you blame me?" Velvet asked.

"Not at all." Blake's voice grew louder, her presence weighing down the mattress beside her. "But there is one question I must ask."

Velvet sighed deeply into the pillow, the faint ache of guilt tugging at her heart, as if she were being scolded, and not toyed with by a malicious spirit. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Oh, I'm aware." Blake smirked. "You disliked leaving this bed the last time you stayed."

"It's the same bed?" Velvet inquired.

"Of course it is." Blake confirmed. "We only use this room for those recovering from serious sickness, like tuberculosis." Velvet whipped off the pillow to glare at the golden eyes, smaller now, and closer. "Don't worry, we clean very thoroughly."

"This is punishment." Velvet grumbled.

"If we wanted to punish you, we have far more entertaining methods." Blake chuckled. "No, what we want more than anything is to help you recover, and the first step is asking, why did you not come to us first?"

"Because you have better things to worry about than me being lonely." Velvet replied.

"And what makes you believe that?" Blake asked.

"Because she's Glynda!" Velvet blurted. "Everyone on the island comes to her for actual important stuff. Being sad isn't a sickness, it isn't a disease or a broken bone, I'm just…"

"Under Glynda's care, like everyone else." Blake noted.

"She can't cure me." Velvet insisted.

"If Glynda has taught me anything, it's that anything can be cured, in a manner of speaking." Blake countered.

"My family isn't coming back." Velvet lamented.

"Not all family is bound by birth." Blake declared. "Your friends remain, family in all but blood."

There it was, the shame. Blake could shame the pants off an Ursa, then strangle it with them. Thankfully Velvet's pants remained on, containing and magnifying the shame. Of course she loved her friends, of course she considered them family, but they were all so busy. Weiss was a Huntress, Pyrrha juggled that alongside her witch training, Blake was Glynda's devoted life partner, and Glynda herself? "I don't want to be a burden."

Blake laughed. "No one does Velvet. Weiss died, and her primary concern was getting back on her feet and out of everyone's hair. Pyrrha was shot - twice - and her only concern was consoling Ruby. It drives Glynda mad with grief that these children are placed in her care and hurting, and she cannot do more than soothe their pain. At least she can rest in the knowledge that Weiss has Yang by her side, and Pyrrha Ruby. But you? You suffer alone in silence, and Glynda is afraid to overstep her bounds, lest she drive you away."

"How could she ever drive me away?" Velvet balked. "She saved my life. She protects my home. She makes up one fifth of my yearly earnings in commissions alone."

"And if Glynda attempted to supplant your grandmother?" Blake questioned.

Velvet winced at the pang of grief that ran through her heart, and wrinkled her nose at the implication. "She wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't she?" Blake insisted.

"No!" Velvet exclaimed.

"Then you'll understand her fear." Blake nodded. "She will never be your grandmother, but she may very well fill that role in your life."

Velvet mulled the words over in her head. Her relationship with Glynda had never been particularly...close. But there was no denying it, Glynda was a constant in her life. She had been one of the first people she met upon her arrival to Patch. That meeting had been surprisingly ordinary, random black cat aside. Kind greetings, a medical check, a lollipop that tasted like heaven...she just seemed normal, did not cast any spells, did not ask anything weird. She was just...nice.

Later, a serious case of pneumonia had left Velvet bedridden for several weeks, the last few of which had been spent in this very room. Weak, scared, separated from her only remaining family, the only thing that had kept Velvet together was Glynda's gentle care. She saw her first magic in those days, when Blake transformed into human form for the first time in her sight. The stories that flowed between them, the adventures Glynda shared with her familiar, and still more before, had healed her just as much as the medicine.

As Velvet had grown, Glynda remained, ageless and wise. As she learned to ply her grandmother's trade, Glynda had given her praise and challenged her to improve. When her grandmother had fallen ill, Glynda fought to save her, but when age denied the cure, she made her final days pain free. As Velvet's grandmother passed, Glynda was there to hold her.

Velvet fought the lump in her throat as she pushed herself upright, taking a deep and steadying breath to keep the emotions at bay. "Glynda has been good to me Blake, you both have. But I can't ask you to fill my home."

"It isn't me you have to ask, and you should know Glynda won't deny a reasonable request." Blake advised. "In fact, I believe she is going quite overboard for you."

Velvet tilted her head in confusion. "Huh?"

Blake dematerialized, unhelpfully leaving Velvet alone. Not that she did not know her way around, but being left on a cliffhanger always bothered Velvet. It was one of the reasons she never got into books - too many cheap tricks and predictable plotlines, waxing quality as time and ideas went on too far. No, she much preferred her own work. She could spend hours sewing a single piece without a single bother, only the chimes of her clock to tell her time had passed.

Pushing open the door, Velvet was immediately startled by a weight colliding with it, followed by a familiar ooph. "Oh crap, sorry...Pyrrha." Velvet gasped, stepping away to close the door.

Pyrrha stood rubbing her forehead, quite rosy in the face. "Oh no, it's quite alright, I wasn't looking!" Pyrrha rambled. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good actually." Velvet replied. "You okay?"

"I'm fine!" Pyrrha exclaimed. "Perfectly, just...I've got to go into town." She deflected, stepping past. "Glynda is in the kitchen. Ruby, I'm going into town if you'd like to come!" She called, rushing on down the hall, leaving Velvet a little shell shocked. She had never seen Pyrrha quite so flustered before.

"Coming!" Came Ruby's cheery reply, followed by the tapping of light footsteps. By the time Velvet reached the kitchen, the room was empty, apart from the Good Witch herself.

"Velvet." Glynda greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, pretty good." Velvet nodded. "I uh...don't remember us coming back here."

"Well I wasn't going to leave you in that drafty house." Glynda explained. "I'll repair it later. Muffins are on the table, I assume you remember your way around my kitchen."

"It doesn't seem to have changed much...is that a new stove?" Velvet asked.

"It is, its predecessor was the victim of an unfortunate brewing miscalculation." Glynda confirmed.

"It must have been a hell of a miscalculation." Velvet noted.

"It was certainly memorable, but even I make mistakes." Glynda turned, holding a mug of coffee to her lips, taking a measured sip. "I just make sure they're contained."

With a crook of her lips, Glynda instantly put Velvet at ease. She always had a way of doing that. When she was young it was candy. As she grew it was simple interest in her education. Now merely the reminder that Glynda was human seemed enough. She had always expressed a distaste at the reverence people held for her. No matter her power, no matter her deeds, Glynda never wanted to place herself above humanity. She put her stockings on one leg at a time and used natural makeup, rather than transfiguring her skin to appear as such. It seemed her ageless appearance was her only unnatural aspect, and Glynda argued that nature itself would disagree...whatever that meant.

"Blake said you had something planned." Velvet brought up, lifting the plaid cloth cover on the kitchen table. The muffins within still smelled freshly baked, courtesy of the temporal spell placed upon their shelter. Magic was truly wondrous. "Then she buggered off."

"Of course she did." Glynda laughed. "Yes, I have made plans. Depending on you they may or may not come to pass." She took another sip from her cup. "What you were attempting to summon, is this truly the path you wish to take?"

"I know it wouldn't have been perfect, but I'd know they were there." Velvet nodded. "Even if it was just because they got something from it."

"What you're asking for is not a healthy relationship." Glynda warned.

"I know, Glynda, I know...but it'd be nice to wake up to someone warm holding me, someone I can talk to...who knows...maybe we could even be friends." Velvet continued.

Glynda sighed, smile tight upon her lips. She stepped forward, pulling a chair free from the table, taking a seat before Velvet. "I know the feeling, to be alone in the world, despite the friends around you...I told you how Blake and I came to be." Velvet nodded, taking a bite from her muffin - blueberry, her favorite. "You must remember, Blake was a unique case, indebted. Out of gratitude, our relationship was born naturally."

"I'm not expecting anything more than a companion, just company." Velvet explained.

"And if this company outstays its welcome?" Glynda pressed.

"I...hope it won't come to that." Velvet answered.

Glynda heaved a heavy sigh. "Very well them. Finish your breakfast, I will finish the preparations."

"Finish?" Velvet asked.

"I hardly expected to dissuade you Velvet." Glynda noted. "One way or another, I would find a way to help you, as I always have and always will."

Glynda stood, cup in hand, and began to leave, only for Velvet to reach out for her hand, halting her in place. "Glynda…" Velvet warbled. The Good Witch turned to properly face her, only to be wrapped in an embrace. "Thank you, for everything."

Glynda huffed, free arm returning the hug. "Always Velvet, always."

Upon arriving at his workshop, Pyrrha and Ruby found Port reclining behind the counter, casually polishing a sword. Seeing he had visitors, the blacksmith sat up, putting the sword and his tools on a shelf behind him. "Welcome!" He bellowed. "What brings the two of you to my forge this fine day?"

"We were just running some errands." Pyrrha replied. "And Ruby has something for you."

"Oh?" Port leaned forward, the usually narrow slits of his eyes widening a bit.

Ruby dug around in her satchel for a moment, pulling a crimson cloth from within. "I was learning how to knit, and I made you this scarf!" She cheered, holding it up.

"Hmm, I'd better not touch it with these dirty paws…" Port noted, showing his blackened hands. "I love the color!"

Ruby placed the scarf on a clean part of the counter, unfolding it to reveal several figures. "I learned to crochet too, so I crocheted you fighting a pack of Grimm on it."

"Haha!" Port howled. "Excellent! Perfect! This is exquisite! How long have you been practicing?"

"I started yesterday." Ruby answered. "I learned how to sew and all about astronomy too!"

"All in one day?" Port was taken aback. "Positively remarkable!" He paused for a minute, rubbing his chin, leaving a smear of polish on his skin. "Wait, astronomy?"

"I finished making scarves for everyone and it still wasn't bedtime, so I read a big book about it." Ruby explained. "The cover was really pretty."

"You're such an enthusiastic learner!" Port proclaimed. "You remind me of my son. He sucked up knowledge like a sponge!"

"I didn't know you had a son." Pyrrha interjected.

"Oh, I suppose I don't talk about the boy much." Port admitted. "And boy probably isn't the right word, Jimothy is a grown man now...a werewolf actually, just like his mother."

"You had a child with a werewolf?" Pyrrha asked.

"We're still technically married as far as I know, though she prefers calling me her mate as opposed to husband." Port confirmed. "Unfortunately the werewolf life is too taxing for a mere mortal human of my age. Too much migrating. Delilah understands, though she always wanted me to join her in lycanthropy."

"Does your family ever visit?" Ruby asked.

"Oh, no, though I used to visit them before my knees gave out." Port shook his head. "Delilah is far too busy leading the pack to waste her time running off to see an old man, and Jimothy is in the prime of his life! They do write on occasion. The pack is in northern Vale, but Jimothy was exploring Vacuo with his mate. In his last letter he promised to visit soon. I can't wait to meet his Maya. They're not far from the age when they'll want to settle down and start a family of their own."

"Why didn't you ever mention them before?" Pyrrha inquired.

"I suppose I didn't think anyone would want to hear an old man's ramblings about his family." Port shrugged. "Besides, are tales of my adventures not more...exciting?"

"More exciting, yes." Pyrrha allowed. "But I'd love to hear about your family. They sound wonderful."

"Funny, I'd like to hear more about your family as well." Port suggested. "How are your mother and father faring? Is your brother well?"

"I...haven't heard from them in some time...years even." Pyrrha admitted. "They were not happy with my decision to train as a witch."

"Such a shame, parents should always support their children's life choices." Port declared. "Unless they choose to become a brigand or something like that, obviously. I'm sorry for bringing-"

"It's quite alright." Pyrrha waved away his apology. "I've got a new family here, and you're a part of it."

"Am I part of your family too?" Ruby asked.

"Of course." Pyrrha replied, at which Ruby beamed. "And it's getting larger all the time it seems."

"Yes...sorry to be a downer, but might I inquire about Miss Gayl?" Port asked tentatively. "I understand you and Glynda have been taking care of her."

"We expect her to make a full recovery, and sooner than would normally be expected." Pyrrha informed.

"Splendid, splendid, and how are the wolves in your care?" Port inquired.

"Improving, though Nora's eyesight is improving more slowly than we'd hoped; we are, in a way, flying blind here." Pyrrha sighed. "Ren is...he was...performing quite well." She cleared her throat, a sudden flush coloring her features.

"Mostly good news then." Port smiled reassuringly. "It must be difficult to take care of so many unruly patients."

"I'm actually enjoying it." Pyrrha corrected. "It can be trying at times, but very rewarding. Though I am very glad I didn't have to add Velvet to the list of the wounded."

"I take it her mystical dabbling took a rather dangerous turn?" Port suggested.

"Unfortunately...Womp didn't survive." Pyrrha grimaced.

"Tragic, the poor creature." Port slumped. "Dear Velvet must be crushed."

"She is, but Glynda has something planned to help with that." Pyrrha noted. "I'm sure whatever it is will be more successful than Velvet's efforts."

"Better to leave magic in the hands of the professionals." Port agreed. "Do offer my condolences."

"I will." Pyrrha responded. "We'll let you get back to work. Have a wonderful day."

"Bye Mr. Port!" Ruby cheered.

"Oh, one moment!" Port called as Pyrrha and Ruby turned to leave. "It almost slipped my mind. Old age is truly a blessing." He dug around in a nearby drawer, retrieving a white box, now stained with the polish from his hands. "Your circlet is ready." He opened the lid to reveal a bronze circlet, inlaid with gold. Its curvaceous lines were reminiscent of the decorations adorning the edges of Pyrrha's armor.

"Wonderful…this is exactly what I was hoping for." Pyrrha declared as she lifted the circlet. She slipped it over her hair, sliding it into place over the scar on her temple. "How does it look?"

"It's really pretty!" Ruby chirped.

"You look beautiful my dear, like royalty!" Port proclaimed.

"Oh, you're just saying that." Pyrrha blushed. "But thank you, perhaps now people will stop asking about the scar. How much do I owe you?"

"Not a thing my dear." Port replied. "Consider it an early Solstice gift."

"Thank you Peter." Pyrrha bowed.

"Seeing you smile is all the thanks I need." Port demurred. "Now go have fun with your girlfriend."

Ruby tilted her head, looking to Pyrrha. "Girlfriend?"