Chapter Text
“Of course I love you,” the rose said to him.
“It is my fault that you have not known it all the while.
That is of no importance. But you—you have been
just as foolish as I. Try to be happy.”
—Antoine de Saint Exupéry, “The Little Prince”.
Act 1
Chapter 1: Of the Soul
She had four thorns.
It was second nature, a sort-of instinctive quadrate adapted solely for the sake protecting those she most loved. Ruby Rose was a guardian.
Naturally, number one was her personal armament, Crescent Rose. From the very start, the training alongside her beloved scythe was always her go-to (and fallback) when shoved mercilessly in the face of danger. She’d learned from the best, lived by the best, and if she must—she’d die that way too. Crescent Rose, her weapon, her comrade, a friend.
The next was her aura, and in extension, her semblance. Her ability to burst into a hurricane of rose petals at will was an uncommon trait that she’d keep honing for the rest of her life; it allowed her to see things and reach heights she’d never have otherwise been able. If only through her semblance, she’d lived up to her name, and she reveled in it just the same.
Number three was her eyes—the gift passed down to her by the God of Light, and more personably, her mother. A gift she used to stand brave and bold in the face of darkness incarnate, to turn Grimm to stone—and so often save the lives of those in front of her. Proudly, and by birthright, Ruby Rose had proven herself a true Silver-Eyed Warrior.
But the final and most critical part of herself, that which all could attest was the key to her continued victory—would always and forevermore be: her indomitable will.
A hooded figure knelt at the shore of a shallow bank—an oasis in the middle of the otherwise dead and vacant desert. How she wished she’d had more time to dip her feet in the water and rest, but she was already a few days behind schedule.
She rose to stand tall; the young woman turned to see a sandstorm brewing in the distance. A gritty breath was exhaled from dry lungs—overlapped by the sound of a bird cawing from the barely-surviving desert tree nearby. Instantly, she pivoted on her heel to look its way out of reflex. Her heightened hopes were predictably let down, as, in the back of her mind, she knew they’d be.
It was just a baby griffin vulture in a nest—crying out for its parents that weren’t around.
A sigh of discontentment fell from her lips, but she didn’t linger. After a sip, she screwed the lid back on her filled canteen. The sifting sounds of footsteps signaled it was supposedly time for her to carry on towards the sandstorm... but abandonment grew louder in her mind as the bird cried out yet. She turned in contemplation, giving the baby vulture one last glance before looking away. She ultimately chose to face forward once again.
But, as she did, she was instantly overwhelmed by a blast of hot wind and a coarse wave of sand.
A daunting and considerable figure landed in front of her, throwing its weighted claws into the ground. She shielded her face, looking up just in time to catch the full sight of a sharp break parting. It released a menacing cry—the force of which blew back her hood.
A set of brilliant, silver optics stared down a fully-grown griffin vulture.
A predictably defensive parent, she could only guess. A hand placed itself on the furled weapon clipped to the back of her belt... but then she remembered the loud, helpless crying that rang in her ears yet. She’d sooner take on a loveless Nevermore any day of the week, but at the moment, she didn’t have a say in the matter. She leapt in the air, the creature jostled to follow her motion, most certainly aiming to dig its beak in her. She burst into her semblance; the foe flailed defensively as she released her speed to land on it back. This way was faster, in any case.
It cried out again and tried to shake her off. The griffin leapt in the air and flapped it’s wings in rapid succession as it ascended. Were it sentient, it may have been offended by the giggle that resounded as she wrangled it. It took off, flying jagged and away from the little oasis and towards the sandy horizon per her guidance. Bye-bye, water.
After a minute or so, and far enough from the nest for her comfort, she grabbed the griffin vulture by the scruff, taking a handful of plumes in her grip. She pulled it up as though she were controlling the stick shift of an air ship; it obeyed and shot higher in the air.
When she’d reached an altitude great enough (and of course, she’d had her fun,) slender digits dug deeper into its skin with a thorny prick—just enough to get her point across. Jolted, it squawked in discomfort, her cue to let it go, so she did just that. It sailed off in one direction, back to its nest, and she took the other in a burst of petals—deep into the heart of the sand gusts. With chaos ebbed, the rapidly forming tornado all but dissipated completely as her steel-toed boots planted firm on the ground.
The girl wiped the sweat from her brow with a relieved exhale... as she was ultimately left alone to stare down the daunting horizons of sand that yet surrounded her. There was no changing that. Even despite her frivolous nature, Vacuo was nothing but a wasteland.
“And here I was, about to intervene,” said a man’s voice abruptly from behind her. Caught by surprise, she flipped to look his way with her hand set firmly on her retracted weapon again. She calmed as quickly as she reacted.
A sigh of relief before an annoyed tone. “Fox,” her brow knit together. “Don’t sneak up on me!” Especially after that!
He was almost reluctant to follow her into the heart of a sandstorm, but he’d since realize the reality of the good fortune when it came to the desert. “Sorry,” he shrugged, “but you’re always startled when I speak to your mind, too.”
She rolled her eyes despite knowing he had a point. His telepathy was something she’d never get used to, and truth be told she didn’t like the idea that her thoughts were on display for anyone else to observe—but he was usually good about not being intrusive. Just like how she knew he was only scanning her thoughts to find her in the desert haze. Even with the communication towers back up, her Scroll’s signal was still faulty in the wasteland; connection was fleeting.
But she was somewhat surprised he’d come out here on his own, though she supposed it was to be expected—as Coco couldn’t just up and leave Shade on a whim, and Yastuhashi and Velvet were busy with their newborn.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” she explained. “Tell Coco I’m doing alright, but I can’t come back quite yet.”
Fox shook his head. Of course Coco wanted to make sure Ruby was alive, but, “I’m here for a different reason.” Pulling a folded piece of paper out from his back pocket, he held it out to her. “You have mail—all the way from Mistral,” he explained.
“Mistral?” Was it from Jaune? It’d be strange if it was; he wasn’t really the pen-pal type (he flooded her voicemail as per his preference.) “Who’s it from?” she asked. Thoughtlessly.
Fox looked back with a white-eye, deadpan stare. “I can’t read.”
An embarrassed look flooded her face instantly. “O-Oh,” she stuttered, “I-I—“
“Just kidding,” a playful smirk. He already knew what it was about, he was just messing with her. “Go on and see for yourself.” To which a sigh of relief resounds—she’d walked right into that one. She took it in hand; unfolding the paper, she recited it aloud.
“You’re... cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of,” her steel gaze widened as she gasped, hardly able to process the words to follow, “Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie!”
Ren and Nora were finally getting married! The girl let out a joyous giggle, and for what was the first and probably only time in her life, she threw her arms around Fox in an embrace. He stood there, not quite bothered, and equally unfazed. He gave her a double pat on the back. “Oh my gosh, can you believe it!” An excited gasp matched her ascended pitch.
“Yes,” he said flatly. And not just because he could read minds; it didn’t take a telepath for know how in love Ren and Nora had always been. Ruby shifted focus to the second letter that’d been tucked inside, an RSVP slip.
“Will you give them my response?”
A grin spread across scarred lips, “Your,” confidential, “assignment can actually spare you a vacation?” he teased. A hint of reluctance showed on her face as she remembered herself. Sometimes the hardest battles she’d fought were with her own truths.
“This is just about the only thing I’d take off for,” she gave a weak smile. Even she wouldn’t miss this for the world.
Fox huffed a lone chuckle and nodded. He took the paper and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Team SSSN, myself, Coco, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi were all invited as well,” and, of course, “I'm sure, the rest of your team, too.” A chill ran down her spine at the mention. Undoubtedly, all their loved ones would be joining the celebration. Ruby looked back at the invite left in her hands, rereading the bolded line, “Beacon Academy”.
“I need to be getting back,” Fox said, turning the direction he’d come from. “I told Coco I’d stop at Coquina and deliver the news to Sun, too,” who’d been helping out where he could. “Remember to check in every once in a while, you know how Velvet worries.” She smiled, and as she parted her lips to give an affirmative reply, she was silenced by an external voice in her mind.
“And she’s not the only one,” Fox sent.
Her heart skipped a beat, though in either fluster, guilt, or perhaps a mix of the two—she didn’t quite know. He didn’t have to say it outright for her to hear his meaning loud and clear. “Right,” she sent back simply, if only because she’d seem a lot less calm if she had to say it out loud.
Only when she was once more on her own (even in her mind,) did she look back down to the paper in hand. Ultimately, her long lashes drew closed over silver optics.
She put a curled palm over her heart, as if keeping him safe. A breathy exhale fell from her lips, followed only by his name.
He roused to the faint sound of someone gently calling out to him; long lashes drifted open to reveal a set of hazel optics. His vision fluttered in and out of focus as he adjusted to sit upright. Groggily, he put a hand to his cheek; he felt the shape of his glove’s negative imprinted on his face.
He’d been dreaming of something pleasant just now, but he couldn’t quite remember what.
He gazed up past the desk he’d been sitting at—upon which he’d formerly rested his head. In front of him stood an older woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties or (very) early forties. Truthfully, he had no idea her real age, and he would never in his life even dream of asking. Surely, she had been the one calling out to him.
He gave her a guilty smile. “Sorry, Professor Goodwitch,” a chuckle in place of his addendum: I fell asleep at my desk again.
She returned the expression with one vaguely humored (or the closest she’d ever be). “Perhaps you should start drinking coffee?”
“Thanks for the suggestion, but,” he looked down at the empty mug set on his desk, “I prefer hot coco.”
An endeared, however unsurprised expression showed on her face for a moment as she lingered—almost as though she were lost in a memory. She chose not to comment on the fact, and instead let it fade away. The click of her heels echoed on the thick, glass floor. “You have a letter,” she held out an off-white envelop, and he took it in his palm. His anticipation from the potential sender was quelled as soon as it hit; the calligraphy on the front was suspiciously regal and lavish.
He was surprised in opening the article to find an invitation.
You’re cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie as honorary officiant, upon humble request from the bride and groom.
June 25th at 7PM in Beacon Academy Convention Hall, reception to follow.
His expression lit with a sort of joy, his company couldn’t help but smile too in amusement. Given the location and the odd look of knowing on her face, the young man had a feeling Glynda already knew. “Ren and Nora are finally getting married.”
“I’d have certainly thought it wouldn’t have taken this long.” She recalled her former students—and even from the first time she’d met them at their Beacon acceptance interview, their bond and inseparability was all but tied with a string. “Brothers know Mr. Ren has long since committed every part of himself to keeping up with Ms. Valkyrie.”
Having hardly lived though more than a few of Nora’s suffocating embraces, he certainly agreed. “Think there’s any chance I can take a day’s vacation in June?”
“If you can actually keep up with your work,” Glynda took his empty mug from his desk, “then I suppose I’ll allow it.” He found humor in the fact that she certainly wasn’t telling him on a professional level, but as someone dear who was looking out for him.
“After all,” Glynda filled the cup with hot water and poured in a packet of coco powder, stirring it a bit before setting it back down in front of him, “it’d be a shame to miss out on the joy that everyone worked so hard to preserve.” With a soft “thank you,” he looked back to the invitation gently; it really was a miracle that something like this were possible at all.
Grabbing the cup’s handle in his palm, he put his lips to the rim. As he took a sip, it was almost as though Glynda has waited to hit him with her addendum: “And I’d hate to rob you of the chance at catching the bouquet.”
In surprise, he sputtered on the hot liquid entering his mouth. “W-What?” an uncomfortable laugh between coughs. He wished he could say he knew she was just teasing him, but in how often she reminded him to cherish and indulge in her personal life while he was still young, he knew she was being sincere. She wasn’t one for jokes anyway.
The woman turned the other way and began walking towards the door. Speaking of: “I looked over the guest list. It seems as though everyone will be there.”
A chill ran down his spine, he’d expected as much, but Glynda caught on quick. “Oh?”
“Mr. Arc of course, as the man of honor. Teams CFVY and SSSN are traveling all the way from Vacuo, too, and,” with arms crossed, she turned to look back over her shoulder, “Team RWBY.”
A thoughtful pause. “Oh,” he repeated more softly this time. He looked to the framed image on his desk, deep in thought.
“Perhaps you’ll have time to discuss with Ms. Rose the latest discoveries in her travels while she here,” she said, pushing the elevator’s down button. Though she didn’t voice it, the latter part of her sentiment was heard loud and clear: and matters more personal.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she finally told him. “You can continue your leisurely reading after you finish your paperwork.”
“Of course,” he gave her a gentle and reassuring gaze, following with a nod. “Have a good night, Glynda.” At the door, she returned his expression with an fond smile, one rather unlike the stern look she showed most of the world.
“You too, Headmaster Pine.”
On his own, he looked back to the framed image set in his desk; a younger version of himself stood beside a beautiful girl in red: his unique Rose.
“Are you sure you can manage things on your own?”
An nod, one affirmative and confident in the decision. He wasn’t like the huntress in front of him; “I’ll be a lot more help here than I will be out there.” He looked to her with a similar show of concern. “Will you be okay on your own?”
A pensive look, a deep exhale. “I,” she replied softly, “I have a few things I need to sort out.”
Oscar replied with a knowing look. “Your secret's safe with me,” he reassured her, which was more-so to say, “I’ll cover you.”
Humanity’s most honest soul had to forgo her own, personal journey. It’d been about a year and not a single soul had heard from him. One could only assume the worst, but Ruby Rose never assumed the worst—not even from the man of bad luck.
“I’ll... be back before you know it,” she told him, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than him. He paused, and then he was more direct.
“I’ll miss you.”
Silver met hazel as she finally mustered all her strength to look him in the eye. She’d sooner stare down darkness another day before saying goodbye to him. A single golden tear had gathered in his duct, but he somehow found the strength to smile. It made it harder.
Ruby bit her lip to steady its quiver. Giving into desire, she took a few quick steps forward and threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer. He was natural to return the embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ll miss you, too,” a whimper.
She didn’t want to let him go, she wanted to stay in the moment as long as he’d let her. And if she’d ask, he’d absolutely say, “forever”.
“Oscar?”
She pulled away, just enough so to look him in the eye, but she’d kept her hands on his shoulders, yet to let go. He tilted his slightly, letting out a curious, “What is it?”
She couldn’t quite pinpoint when she’d started feeling like “this”. Was it when Salem abducted him, or perhaps it was that night in the dojo? Maybe it was all those times he looked fear in the eye and stood brave despite his reservations?
She wanted to tell him, to beg him to come along, or forget about everything else and stay—but life had never been that simple, nor had her heart. Sincerely, truly—she had begun to understand why her uncle was always so distant.
For better or worse, her heart would go unvoiced another day, and another, and another. Just for now, and as always—she settled. Looking to Oscar at eye-level, her cheeks matched his darling shade.
“You’ve gotten taller.”