Work Text:
Turn the light off, please
I will be there in the darkness
You can tell a lie
“You did nothing wrong.”
From now on, you are dreaming a sweet dream
“Who’s he?” Blake whispers as she leans ever so slightly closer to Ilia. Her father’s speech is far from over and the room is packed full of different members of the White Fang from all across Remnant, but her own curiosity can’t wait until they’re outside the meeting hall. She just has to know.
“Who?” Ilia whispers back, her voice just as furtive so as to not steal attention away from Ghira’s speech regarding his plans for another boycott on the Schnee Dust Company’s products. From the looks on the faces of the people around her, the leader of the White Fang needs all the help he can get.
“The guy in black,” Amber eyes slowly trace their way up the stalk of the rose on his back. They linger on the thorns. “And red. With the flower?”
“I think he’s from Mantle. I know I saw him get off the ship with the other members from there, but I’m not certain.” Ilia worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “Pretty sure his name is Adam. I remember Sienna telling me about a bull Faunus from Mantle that she was excited to finally meet in person.”
Blake had been so absorbed at the sight of his outfit that she had completely neglected to spot the two horns jutting out from the top of his head.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Ilia arches an eyebrow.
“And what about the mask?”
“What about it?”
“He hasn’t taken it off.” The mask was plain white, unadorned with any eccentricities, unlike his tailored blazer.
“Must really be leaning into the whole Grimm angle. A lot of people from Mantle have started wearing them lately, dunno why.”
Ghira’s speech eventually ends with little spectacle. The applause is polite and Blake notes how it ends much quicker than it used to, back when her father could hold an audience in the palm of his hand.
When Sienna Khan ascends the stage, it’s to the sound of a stampede of Goliath’s feet. Once the crowd finally settles down, Sienna presents her own plans for the Mistral sect of the White Fang: the destruction of businesses that refuse to serve Faunus, active harassment of Schnee Company personnel, and the mobilizing of armed strikes against their Dust mining operations.
The clapping is so loud, the ears atop Blake’s head curl flat against her skull in an effort to reduce the volume. It can only help so much.
The speech plants a seed within Blake. Sienna’s conviction, how the hope with which she speaks empowers others, it feeds on the doubt that she knows has been there inside of her for a long time now. If her father’s ways are supposed to be working, then why hasn’t anything changed?
When it’s all ended for the day and people begin rising from their seats, Blake is the one who takes Ilia’s hand and guides her through the crowd towards Sienna.
“Don’t you want to go see your dad?”
“Dad’s fine, he’s with Mom. I want to go talk to Sienna with you. She told you to come and find her afterwards anyway, right?”
When the pair arrive, Sienna is just saying goodbye to someone else. Her eyes light up when sees them both approaching.
“Ilia, Blake. It’s so good to see you two.”
“Sienna!” Ilia greets her. “That speech was amazing. You had the whole room hanging on to every word.”
“It was really good,” Blake tacks on. “I liked it.”
“As good as one of your father’s?” Sienna smiles fondly at her. “I remember when the Fang was just a few dozen of us meeting every other week to coordinate labor strikes and protests. Ghira didn’t speak much back then, but people knew well enough to listen when he did.”
She waves her hand across the room, denoting the size of their gathering and the massive space they occupy. “Now look at us, on the brink of creating such real, tangible change in the world. I can’t wait for him to see what we’ve already begun accomplishing in Mistral.”
Before she can go any further, someone settles in next to Blake. She’s barely turned her head to look at them before Sienna is speaking again.
“Oh, Ilia, this is someone I’ve been wanting for you to meet. He’ll also be accompanying us to Mistral later this month.” The figure steps out in front to join Sienna. “Adam, this is Ilia. Ilia, Adam.”
Adam stretches out a black gloved hand and Ilia quickly takes it, giving it a shake.
“You’re from Mantle too?” Ilia questions.
“I am.” His voice is smooth, deep. He talks a little quiet though, not much above a whisper. “I’m afraid that’s the reason I came a bit overdressed,” He tugs at the collar of his red undershirt. “It’s a lot warmer here in Menagerie than I thought it’d be.”
Ilia smiles wide. “I know, right? I was the same way when I first moved here to live with family. No need for layers when you can actually see the sun everyday.”
Blake doesn’t even realize that she’s been staring at him this entire time until Adam’s masked face turns her way. Even though she can’t see his eyes, Blake knows he’s looking straight into her own.
To her surprise, it’s Adam that looks away first. He nervously shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
Sienna lets out a sound that’s a combination between a tiger’s chuff and a chuckle, then playfully elbows him. “And Adam, this is Blake. Blake Belladonna.”
“Blake.” With that one word, he sets his gaze back on her and gingerly offers his hand once again. “I’m Adam.”
Her father always said that you can tell a lot about someone by their handshake - whether it’s limp or firm, overeager or reserved. She always thought he was just reading too much into things.
Blake’s hand slips into Adam’s and the first thing she notices is the warmth from his glove. Then, the way his fingers gently wrap around her hand as she moves it up and down. In a flash, it’s over and Blake is left holding her hand out in front of herself as Adam quickly retracts his own.
Then she feels the hand on her shoulder.
“Blake.” Her father’s gruff voice is in her ears, and she quickly looks up at him. “Today’s meeting is over. We need to go home and rest up for tomorrow’s leg of the conference.”
“Ghira! I was actually-” Sienna is cut off by a single hand, palm pointed directly at her.
“I apologize Sienna, but I’m afraid this will have to wait until tomorrow. I don’t know if I can stand to listen to any more of your speeches tonight.”
Blake is unceremoniously spirited away, without any time to even say her goodbyes. The entire time they’re walking, she doesn’t hear any of those left behind say so much as a single word.
It’s after her father’s return from Mistral that Blake begins hearing a lot about Adam. Ilia says that he’s passionate and driven, totally devoted to the White Fang’s cause.
Ghira says that he’s bullheaded and reckless, but intelligent. If only he put his smarts to use in ways other than helping to plan strikes against Schnee Dust caravans and warehouses. There’s something else there too, a look in his eyes whenever Adam’s name comes up. For what reason, she doesn’t have the slightest clue.
More people begin wearing masks like his; Blake finds out that he was the one who first started the trend in Mantle and people just began copying him. The silent message that the mask sends isn’t lost on her.
She wonders what one would look like on her own face, if it would be enough to make her parents see that their way just isn’t working anymore. That is, if it even worked in the first place.
“I know your father and I haven’t seen eye to eye in a very long time,” Sienna begins as she passes her scroll to Blake. “But I seriously hope that seeing this will help change his mind.”
“What is it?” Blake quickly skims over the news article already pulled up, eyes slowly widening as she reads further.
“It’s the town where I was born, near Mistral Kingdom. Because of the actions that we’ve taken, the city council has passed new legislation making it unlawful for stores to discriminate against Faunus customers. I know it won’t fix everything, that there will still be those who refuse us service and harass us, but this is the first time in Mistral’s storied history of legalized oppression that something like this has ever been made into law.”
“This is incredible.” Blake breathes as she hands the scroll back.
“Indeed, it is. I just hope Ghira can see it the same way that you and I do.”
Predictably, he doesn’t. Built on a foundation of fear and terror, this isn’t acceptance - this is compliance, Ghira says. Blake hears the wisdom in his words.
She also hears the anger in Sienna’s.
“We are changing things for the better, Ghira. I thought that was what you wanted too.” She makes a grand sweeping gesture, as indicated by the jangle of the bracelets on her arm. “I thought you wanted a world where your daughter could live happily - freely - without fear of persecution.”
Ghira fumes. “The White Fang has made strides, Sienna. Look at Vale Kingdom; their council has been extremely receptive to our calls for legal action and greater civil equality in the last two decades.”
“Mistral isn’t Vale, you of all people should understand that. They have to know that the White Fang is willing to do whatever it takes to achieve our goal of equality.” Sienna takes a deep breath. “Kingdoms and cities being ‘responsive’ to our petitioning isn’t enough anymore. I understand this, as do our newer recruits, even Blake has begun asking me-”
Ghira slams a fist down on the wooden table between him and Sienna. “Don’t you bring my daughter into this anymore than you already have.”
“You’ve coddled her, Ghira. She’s lived like a princess here in Menagerie while people nearly the same age as her have had to endure so much worse. People like Ilia and Adam.”
Her father’s voice takes a dangerous edge. “Do not say that boy’s name to me. Not after what he’s done.”
“He protected us!”
“He killed a man!”
Blake’s winces at the volume of her father’s voice. Still reeling, she almost doesn’t hear the sound of Sienna’s feet storming towards the door. She barely has enough time to scramble to the shadows around the corner as the older woman slings the door of her father’s study open and stops in her tracks.
“Like it or not, Ghira, he stood up and defended our convoy when all you wanted to do was talk to the humans shooting at us. Not all Faunus have the luxury of an aura to protect them from a bullet, unlike you.” With that final barb, Sienna slams the door shut behind her and stalks away in the opposite direction of the hallway Blake was barely able to duck into.
Sienna leaves not long after that, returning to Mistral to prepare for something - a raid against a dust processing depot owned by the Schnees, as Blake would later discover. Ilia says she plans to send for her and Adam when the time is near.
Before that happens, before he leaves again, Blake wants the chance to make her own decision on what kind of person Adam is.
To the White Fang, he’s an up-and-coming member whose dedication and skill is undeniable.
To Sienna, he’s a hero.
To her father, he’s a murderer.
To Blake, he’s practically a stranger.
So why does she still feel compelled to learn more about him?
Third Crusade - a book banned in both Atlas and Mistral for its incendiary, anti-Kingdom message and its discussion of the brutal mistreatment of Faunus during the Great War. It remains a divisive piece of literature even now, many years after its publishing.
Blake turns the book over in her hands, fingers running over the cracked spine and well-worn cover. She takes a deep breath and raises her hand to knock on the door in front of her.
She hears the squeak of steel springs as someone sits up and rises from their bed; the rustle of fabric as clothes are hastily slipped on; the sound of footfalls approaching the other side of the door.
A few seconds later, the door opens and Adam Taurus stares at her. His mostly black outfit that he usually wears has been retired for the night, instead opting for a large grey sweatshirt and dark sweatpants.
It’s strange. Outside of his intricately designed blazer and without a weapon, Adam looks just like any other teenager. He looks just like her.
That is, aside from the Grimm mask still covering a portion of his face. It is undeniably meant to imitate a Grimm now, with its deep red etchings and their menacing design. Ilia has one too now. They’re becoming more and more commonplace in the White Fang.
“Ilia wanted me to return this to you. She said thanks for letting her borrow it,” Blake holds out the book for him to take. “I gave it a read too, so…thank you again.”
Adam doesn’t shy away from her like he did when they first met. Not just his clothes, but Adam himself seems a little different. Maybe he holds his head up higher, meets her amber eyes with greater confidence, or maybe it’s something totally different that Blake can’t quite put her finger on.
“You like it?”
“Hm?” Blake suddenly realizes that the book has already left her hand and she belatedly returns it to her side. “Like what?”
“The book. I meant, what did you think about it?” Adam turns the book over, as if trying to gauge her interest from how many new creases there are.
“I can see why it’s banned in two different Kingdoms.”
That earns a bark of laughter from him as he uses the back of hand - his ungloved hand - to stifle the sound. His fingers and knuckles are littered with scars, all white with age.
“That’s true, that’s true. There’s a lot of history in there they wouldn’t want people learning about, huh?”
“It certainly doesn’t paint Atlas or Mistral in a very favorable light. You would think if they had the ability to refute any of it, they wouldn’t have to bother banning it.” Blake shares her own soft chuckle. “I was surprised when I saw Ilia reading it. Did you recommend it to her?”
“I thought it might be something she was interested in, so I mentioned it to her.” Adam raises the book. “I brought this one along with a few others when I first came from Mantle, then bought a couple more while I was on the move with Sienna and your father. I’ve managed to get a small collection going.”
“Can I see?” The words leave Blake’s mouth before she even truly considers them.
For the first time tonight, this seems to cause Adam to stumble. Behind his mask, his eyebrows arch up and he seems to weigh his responses, even if it’s only for a moment.
“Alright,” He opens the door wide, allowing Blake to slip in past the threshold. His room is dark, illuminated by a single lamp next to the bed. An old wooden bookcase rests against the wall opposite the door.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Blake casts a glance over her shoulder.
Adam keeps the door open.
“I was only resting, you’re fine.” He motions for Blake to follow as he crosses the room towards the bookshelf. “So, Ghira. He isn’t going to come bite my head off for letting you in my room, is he?”
Blake furrows her brow. “Is there a reason he should?”
“Let’s just say I get the feeling your father doesn’t like me very much.” Adam palms at the back of his neck as he takes a position next to the bookshelf, allowing Blake to stand to directly in front of it.
“That’s just how he is with everyone these days.” Blake sighs. There’s about a dozen different books on the shelf. They’re on a wide array of subjects, ranging from weapon maintenance and Grimm theory to a collection of children’s fairytales and political ideology. None of them appear to be in very good shape.
“Although, I did hear about what happened in Mistral.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Adam bristle.
“Oh,” He mutters.
“Yeah.” Blake wets her lips. “My dad said you killed someone?” She tries to phrase it like a question, letting him know her father’s words aren’t her own.
“I did.” Adam doesn’t sound like the heroic protector Sienna described. Instead, he just sounds tired. “I…I lost control. There were so many of them shooting at us, I got so caught up in the moment that I didn’t even realize I was using my semblance. I just wanted them to stop.”
“Your semblance?” Blake turns away from the bookshelf, facing him.
Adam nods. “The best way to describe it without showing you is that I can redirect energy. I absorb damage over time using my sword, store it, then channel it into a single blow. The results can be…”
“Dangerous?” She supplies.
“Deadly,” Adam decides. “One of them rushed the convoy when my back was turned. I didn’t have time to think, I just attacked on instinct. Your father said it’s because of actions like that that humans think they can treat us like freaks.”
Blake wants to refute it, to tell him that her dad would never say something like that to another Faunus. However, Blake knows that if she said that, she’d only be lying to both of them.
She clenches her fists tight to keep from crying out in anger against her father, memories of Sienna’s accusations of her coddling the only thing keeping her from doing so. Even as the resentment towards Ghira claws at the back of her throat, she won’t let herself do something so utterly childish.
“Hey,” Adam brings her back to Remnant with a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“‘M fine.” Blake manages, shrugging off his hand and turning away from him. “Just pissed at my dad. It’s nothing new.” It’s embarrassing. She’s the daughter of the High Leader of the White Fang, the Chieftain of Menagerie, she should have better control over herself.
“You know he never even told me about the attack, or that he was shot? I had to find out from Sienna.” Blake crosses her arms, struggling to keep her voice at an even tone. “He doesn’t even know that I know. If he did, I’m sure he’d just try and talk his way out of it; like he does everything else.”
She tries to find something else to focus on, anything in the immediate vicinity to take her attention away from the storm gathering inside her mind.
It’s then that Blake notices the vanity in the corner of the room, and she learns the very first thing about Adam that hasn’t come from someone else’s mouth or as a result of another person’s actions.
The first thing she learns about Adam is that he hates mirrors.
Only a few fragments of glass remain in the circular wooden frame that once housed the vanity’s mirror, barely clinging in place on the very edge. Her anger momentarily forgotten; Blake turns back towards Adam.
“What happened there?” She gestures to the vanity with a nod of her head.
Adam stares at her, probably surprised at the sudden lack of venom in her tone, then groans. “I…threw my shoe at it.”
“You threw your shoe at it.” Blake repeats.
“I had a blanket over it, but it must have slipped off one night. I got up the next morning and…” He mimes the act of rearing his arm back and throwing something, like when Blake uses Gambol Shroud as a makeshift grappling hook. “Threw the closest thing I had at it.”
The entire time he speaks, Adam seems to be trying his best to avoid looking at Blake. Only once he finishes telling his side of the story does he chance a look back at her.
“Your mask.” She puts the pieces together. “It was early in the morning, so you weren’t wearing your mask yet. Is that why?”
Adam lets out a dry huff of air. “Sounds childish, doesn’t it? Freaking out over something so insignificant. A member of the White Fang should be better than that. I should be better than letting my emotions control me.”
Blake listens while he talks, taking in every word and letting them settle inside her. It’s then that she tells him -
“I think you did the right thing.”
Adam looks between her and the vanity. “You mean breaking the mirror?”
“No, not that.” She shakes her head. “Protecting those people, even if my father thinks you were in the wrong. Those humans attacked first; you ended it. You saved lives, Adam.”
He stares at her, his expression almost inscrutable on account of his mask. “You really think so?”
“I know so. And even if he’s too proud to say it,” Blake takes a step towards Adam, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not. So…thank you.”
Adam collects himself slowly, his face softening at the weight of Blake’s hand. He swallows, nods his head, and softly chuckles. “Well, at least I’ve got one Belladonna on my side.”
“Okay, now you’re pushing it.” And yet the smile that comes across his face makes it impossible to not reciprocate. “Don’t be so dramatic, Adam.”
Blake learns a lot about Adam after that night.
She learns that Adam worked in the Dust mines of Mantle along with his mother, until she became sick and died. Adam says it was some disease, a result of volatile Dust particles being inhaled over long periods time. Even after her death, Adam kept working.
She learns that his mother taught him embroidery and that he customizes his own clothing. He shows her the new designs he’s adding to the back of his blazer, making the rose stand out even more against the black fabric with the stark white accents he’s added.
On one particularly long night, she learns why Adam wears his mask and holds him close as he relays the hazy, painful memories.
She learns why Adam only chooses to raid Schnee Dust warehouses and caravans.
When the time comes for Adam and Ilia to travel to Mistral for their mission with Sienna, Blake is confident in her relationship with him.
Even as the future of the White Fang becomes more and more uncertain - as her father’s influence diminishes and Sienna’s popularity continues to grow - Blake knows that at least there’s one person she can trust in. He’s someone just like her, someone who wants to be acknowledged and to prove that he can change the world for the better.
But the world isn’t as simple as the stories her mother used to tell her when she was small. People change and all at once, Blake realizes that the person she thought she knew might already be too far gone to save.
It happens only after her father has stepped down as High Leader of the White Fang and allowed Sienna to ascend to the position without contest. Their very first mission together, months after that night in his room where Blake thought she had glimpsed into his soul, she watches him kill a man as he begs for his life.
And it keeps happening. No more ‘it was only an accident’ or ‘I was just defending myself’. Blake witnesses Adam’s bloodlust firsthand and it makes her stomach turn with fear and shame.
All at once, their dream turns into a nightmare and Blake can’t help but wonder how great a part she played in creating the beast that Adam has become.