Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clover was 5 when he got his first soulmarks.

Useless. On his hip.

Unlucky. On his chest.

Cursed. Around his wrist.

Weak. On his stomach.

Second. Twirling around his ankle.

They stood out on his skin in messy, red writing. Clover showed his parents and they made faces he didn’t understand, but knew weren’t good. When they explained what a soulmark was, a manifestation of the things his soulmate hated about herself. He understood then why the marks were a bad thing.

But he also wondered why he had to know these things if he couldn’t fix them.

Qrow was 12 when his first soulmark was burnt onto his skin.

Lazy. It read in an elegant loopy green script, in writing that was far too elegant for such an ugly word. He wondered as he examined it if it was true. He wondered how many marks he had already given his soulmate. Too many, was the conclusion he eventually came to.

The next one came along soon afterwards, scrawled across his chest in the same loopy script. This one led to many more late nights as he lay awake tracing the word.  

Lucky.

Right there, across his chest, like being lucky was something to hate. Like it was something to want rid of. The one thing he had never had. Why, he asked himself that night, why would anyone hate having the luck he would give anything for? He understood the Lazy after that. After all if he had to work twice as hard to make up for his misfortune, then it only stood to reason that his soulmate had to do the opposite.

He hated them for it.  

When Clover was 10, the word Killer branded itself on his face, over his forehead, and he once again had the impossible urge to hold his soulmate and never let them go.

Killer was the one he thought about the most. It was inevitable that he should wonder if maybe everything his soulmate thought about themselves was true. But none of his marks suggested that his soulmate was a bad person. If they were they wouldn’t feel enough remorse to brand the word killer in his forehead. Most people who saw that mark thought otherwise, which was why he kept it covered.

Not long after, another mark burned itself over his heart. It rested just above the Unlucky and read Alive. Clover could do nothing but stare helplessly and hope that the marks would keep their colour long enough for him to find his soulmate and help them.

By the time he was 11 Clover understood why he was soulmates with this person.

Nobody in his family could quite believe that his semblance was luck. Yet they still managed to attribute everything he did to it. He knew that he should be grateful for his good fortune, but all he could think of was the work he had put in to get as far as he had. All of it dismissed in the face of his semblance. And somewhere else on Remnant, his soulmate suffered with him. 

Qrow wondered often what marks his soulmate had. When he thought about it, there wasn’t much he didn’t hate about himself. He’d probably covered them in words. Thinking about it this much probably didn't help. The guilt he felt about covering them in his own ugly thoughts likely only made it worse. But he could not stop himself, especially as he traced the four marks on his own skin. 

Lazy. Lucky. Blessed. Helpless.

Qrow traced the Blessed on his left wrist absentmindedly. He always thought it put things into perspective. Reminded him that everyone has their own problems. ‘The grass is always greener on the other side,’ he heard someone say once. Maybe his soulmate wished they were unlucky. He certainly wished he were lucky.

Raven had only seen one of his soul marks, Blessed, and she had commented on the tactical advantage of having someone who was possibly lucky on their side. Qrow had agreed while hoping desperately that his soulmate was never dragged into the tribe. He had seen two of hers, the only two she kept visible, one on each cheek. They were laughably paradoxical.

Timid. In neat silver cursive.

Reckless. In big orange block letters.

In the tribe two soulmates were seen as a strength. Two soulmates meant, in the tribes’ strange eyes, that you were great enough to command the love of two people. Or something like that. Qrow thought it was a very possessive view of someone you were supposed to love unconditionally. Not that it mattered. He only had one soulmate and nobody liked him very much anyway.

The words Harbinger and Fanboy burned themselves onto Clover’s skin. The first fit neatly below Unlucky and the second scrawled itself onto his left arm. The first was, at this point, unsurprising. There had to be at least 5 different versions of it plastered across his skin over the years. It still hurt though, to know that his soulmate felt that way. The second confused him. He wasn’t not sure why being a fanboy was something bad enough to be marked permanently on his skin.

Whatever the reason was, Clover decided he was going to prove his soulmate wrong. He had that thought a lot. 

As they left for Beacon, Qrow felt another word burn, this one on his ankle. Idiot he read later, when he finally got into one of the bathroom stalls at Beacon to look. He felt a spark of indignation when he read it. He’d never met his soulmate, but somehow, he knew that this was not true. More so than the ones he’d seen previously, most of which, he was ashamed to admit, he knew he would have thought about someone with a luck semblance had he met them under normal circumstances.

Initiation into Beacon went horribly, he and Raven did not end up partners and instead he got stuck with a girl who had the most ridiculously huge weapon he’d ever seen for someone her size. There was a red soulmark in familiar writing behind her fringe. He didn’t read what it said, but he knew.

It only took a week for the topic of soulmates to come up. They discussed it briefly, and both Taiyang and Summer mentioned that they also had two soulmates, but nothing more was said on the topic. Qrow thought it was obvious that Raven, Tai, and Summer were soulmates but his sister wasn't on board with that theory, or perhaps wasn’t read to accept it. it took two years for that to change. Honestly, Qrow was only surprised that it didn’t take longer.

It wasn’t even her who eventually said it. It was Taiyang. Out of nowhere, he blurted.

“I think you two are my soulmates.”

Both Summer and Raven turned to look at him. It was obvious that he was talking about them and so Qrow gathered up his homework and decided to go to the library. He left Summer flickering in and out of sight, a habit she had almost gotten rid of, and his sister looking pale.

It was really coincidence that Ozpin was there as well. He was actually getting his studying done for once, and was having no trouble ignoring the thought of the rest of his teammates upstairs in the dorm, working out soulmate troubles. Then the burning started, his forehead, specifically above his right eye. Qrow knew that feeling, but he had never had a mark show on his face before. He rubbed his hand on the sore spot and went back to history, he still couldn’t remember what date the Menagerie Proclamation was signed. With a sigh, he rubbed the spot above his head again and flicked through his notes. 

There was a small, polite cough. He looked up and Professor Ozpin was stood in front of the desk.

“Dear me,” he said, staring slightly out of line with Qrow’s eyes. “Some people can be terribly cruel.”

Qrow frowned and his hand went self-consciously to his forehead. “What does it say?”

Ozpin shook his head. “Nothing that bears repeating, and as such nothing you’d want others reading either.”

Qrow put a hand over where he thought the mark was. “What does it say?” 

Ozpin hesitated and then tapped his finger on his cane. “Come with me,” he eventually said, “You can use the mirror in my room and I’ll give you something to cover it.”

Qrow followed him out of the library after packing up his work. He kept one hand over the mark as they walked and felt stupid doing it. Not stupid enough to stop covering it though.

When he reached the mirror he hesitated. He knew he would have to see it eventually but the possibilities still scared him. He let his hand fall down from his face and stared. It took a second for the mirrored words to sink in but when they did his stomach dropped. It was a homophobic slur. He let his fingers run over it and they trembled. Qrow knew he wasn’t fussy when it came to who he was attracted to, but he’d always ignored that fact, never really addressed it. Now it stared him in the face. There was, of course, the possibility that his soulmate was a girl who was like him, but he knew deep down that this wasn’t the case.

When Ozpin finally came back in carrying something Qrow was still staring at it.

“This should cover it.” Ozpin put the makeup down gently next to him. “It isn’t perfect because it’s for my skin tone and not yours but it will do for now. If you want to hide the mark I’d recommend getting your own.”

Qrow nodded, and listened quietly as Ozpin explained how to apply it. Then he took it from him and covered the green word.

“Professor?” He asked as they walked out of the room. “You… you cover your soulmarks?”

Professor Ozpin smiled sadly. He looked old, for the youngest headmaster, and a huntsman barely out of graduation himself.

“Ah well… I imagine my soulmate has rather more marks than I do. She was never really one to linger on her mistakes, or her faults.” He stopped in front of the elevator. “The few marks I do have I cover more because they are a reminder of her than anything else.”

Qrow looked at Ozpin again. He was staring distantly at the silver buttons of the elevator. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he simply said thank you for the help and made his way back to his dorm room. Hopefully the others had sorted out their soulmate thing by now.

It took the other three members of his team a week to regain some sense of normalcy and  in that time not one person other than Ozpin found out about Qrow’s new soulmark.

He told them a week after that, when he realised that he had to get something more to cover it because what Ozpin had given him had run out, and he didn’t know where to even start. The three of them were piled on one bed when he approached them and stood self-consciously in front of them. 

“I umm need to go into town, and I umm was wondering if you could help me get something to cover this.” As he spoke he used his sleeve to wipe away the makeup covering his mark.

Summer’s face was immediately one of shock and horror, as if she couldn’t believe someone would think that about themselves. Tai’s was one of pure rage, and he trembled next to Summer. But it was Raven he was really focused on. Raven who was staring blankly at it as if she didn’t quite know what to think. She wouldn’t outright condemn it because one of her soulmates was female but he knew all the thoughts that were running through her head.

Later, she told him that she didn’t mind, and that she was going to beat up his soulmate for leaving that word on him. Qrow told her he’d rather she beat up whoever made his soulmate think that way. 

Qrow was a fully fledged huntsman when the word bootlicker appeared on his foot. He didn’t pay it much thought. His niece had been born a day ago and suddenly the thought of being an uncle had engulfed his whole world.

The words slowed somewhat as Clover grew older. Clover hoped that meant his soulmate was doing better. Those hopes were shattered when a new set of words appeared on the upper left of his abdomen.

Sad old drunk.  

Traitor was an older one, but it burned near constantly, and it was joined by Deserter.

Uncle came soon after and Clover tried not to think about what that meant. The other words too, gave him insight into his other half’s personality. The man seemed to be struggling, and struggling hard if the way Clover’s skin was almost always burning was any indicator. (Clover knew his soulmate was a man, and he was still working through his feelings on that but he was getting there.) But Clover clung to a small piece of hope. On his stomach and his hand, Weak and Useless had faded to a light grey, only flaring up occasionally and he hoped this meant that he’d found a way to overcome the relentless self hatred. The continuing appearance of words did not give him much hope.

He rose through the ranks of the military quickly. People blamed his luck, which was nothing new, but he ignored it because somewhere out there there was someone who was unlucky, and he thought that might be worse. Besides, General Ironwood made it clear what he thought of that mentality. He was always telling people they were making more of Clover's semblance than they should. 

Later, when he was being given leadership of his own team, Friend and Partner appeared on the same day and Clover counted his words. 24. 24 things his soulmate hated about himself. Clover knew that this was too many already; Clover also knew that they would not be the last. 

Raven left. Ruby was born. And Yang got her first soulmark.

Animal. It read in deep purple writing. Taiyang told him afterwards, as he was explaining Yang’s sudden impassioned quest for equal rights. She was very determined and Qrow wondered if her soulmate would thank her for it.

Tai told him that the mark was already fading and Qrow thanked the gods that somewhere out there a parent was doing a good job.

Over the years, he assumed that Yang had to get some more soulmarks but he was never told what they were. Qrow’s existing words still burned, and Fraud made its way onto his face. He was glad, however, that amongst everything else his soulmate felt the slur on his face seemed to be slowly fading.

While Yang got some more marks, Ruby had none. At 13, that meant that her soulmate was one of three things: younger than she was, extraordinarily confident in themselves, or non-existent. Ruby was quiet about the subject, but Qrow saw the quiet looks of relief that Taiyang got when it was brought up. It made sense, given how much his soulmates had only ended up hurting him. Sometimes Qrow wondered if his soulmate might be better without him as well.

Qrow handed in his resignation at Signal the holidays before Yang was due to go there. He had to watch the fall maiden and that was a full time job. He ignored the guilty pit in his stomach when Ruby chattered excitedly to him about the coming term in between dodging Yang's shots with delighted shrieks. They were sitting in Tai’s garden, and Yang and Ruby were having a water fight. Then suddenly Ruby stopped with a yelp.

“Ow! My arm!”

Yang stopped immediately and ran over to her. Qrow followed suit. Together they watched as neon green appeared on his niece’s skin in a font that almost looked typed.

Male. It read. Ruby frowned and then looked sad. She traced the words down her arm and Qrow didn’t explain what he thought it meant. He was fairly sure she had figured it out, if the familiar expression on her face was any indication. He was reminded of Yang and the Animal on her skin all those years ago. It was the same righteous anger. And then Qrow wasn’t thinking about Ruby’s soulmate, because his leg was on fire.

He fell to the ground with a yell and clutched it. Around him he could hear Ruby and Yang panicking, but the pain took up most of his vision. Slowly it subsided and he looked, cautiously, at the blessed on his wrist. Still green.

Breathing heavily he sat up. The girls were looking at him worriedly.

“Soulmate.” He gasped out and they looked at each other in understanding. Then they hugged him, no words needed. Qrow didn’t think he deserved it, given that he was abandoning them to follow Ozpin’s orders.

Later when he looked he found several words carved into his thigh, all spiralling upwards. Failure. Leader. Partner. Protector. Friend. Heartless.

All through the night the lucky on his chest burned.

Tortuga was dead, and Clover felt like it was his fault. It was his fault. His luck didn’t protect everyone, but it always seemed to protect him. He shouldn’t be alive and awful as he knew it was, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Tortuga might have survived if he hadn’t been there. Maybe if he had made different decisions. Clover pushed the thoughts down. He could spiral into self-flagellation later. Right now, cold as it seemed, he had more important things to worry about. Tortuga’s replacement for one.

He hoped his team was doing alright. When he’d last seen them Harriet had been punching anything that moved and Elm was oddly quiet. Vine was meditating more often. Clover sighed and looked over the folders on his desk. He’d narrowed it down to two options. He just had to ask their opinion.

“You’re replacing Tortuga already?” Elm looked small despite her stature. Harriet grit her teeth and acted like she agreed when Clover himself didn’t want to replace Tortuga. Vine said it was logical and didn’t seem annoyed but Clover was never quite sure what he was thinking. Whether he was actually as heartless as he said, Clover wasn’t sure. But Clover felt heartless looking at them all and thinking about their teammate.

They argued over who it should be. It was unspoken but Tortuga filled the room; every protest or commendation from someone was heavy with his influence. They eventually decided to ask the General, and to present their options to him.

Ironwood told them to pick Marrow. Winter, he said, had a different path planned. Clover wondered who was doing the planning. He wondered if she, like him, had been guided through the military with suggestions that had slowly but surely brought them here.

It happened on a training exercise thankfully. It was only the Ace Ops there when several of his soulmarks burned and a new one branded itself onto his jawbone.

“Protector.” Harriet whispered before he covered it with his hand. By then, he knew that whatever his soulmate failed to do would appear on his skin soon after. He hoped that nothing to terrible had happened.

His skin burned for days afterwards.

The Fall maiden encased in glass.

Privileged burned into his skin.

He had only looked at both once. He left for Mistral as soon as he could after her near death. Guilt tugged at him for not even saying hello to Ruby and Yang while he was there. He watched them from a tree for a while. Long enough to see that the male had faded to a less vibrant green. Yang had a new mark, a Coward branded on her neck. He wished them well silently once more and then went on his way.

When he returned Ruby had met her soulmate and was ecstatic about it. She pointed the girl out to him with a covert whisper. She was exactly the right person for Ruby. Qrow knew that from the moment he saw her.

After his meeting with Ozpin he was introduced properly and he noticed that Penny had three soulmarks that he could see.

“My father was quite surprised,” she told him chirpily, “That I had soulmarks.”

When she said this Ruby got all giggly and nervous and whispered in Penny’s ear. Qrow knew what his niece looked like when lying, but he didn’t pay it much mind, people were entitled to their secrets.

Much like her mother before her, Yang was suspiciously oblivious to the dark haired Faunus girl who was on their team. Of course, Qrow couldn’t point it out, because his only evidence was that she was a Faunus and that would be racist. But still, he spent four years sharing a room with soulmates, two of which was them dancing around it and so to him it seemed obvious.

Lonely. His soulmate felt lonely. Qrow could relate, so much that there was probably an identical mark on his soulmate. Wouldn’t it be funny if they were in the same spot? He thought. Maybe not funny, but then again his sense of humour was a little skewed.

Qrow could see what Ozpin was doing with team RWBY, like he’d done with STRQ before him, he’d half expected it to be one of them walking out the elevator. Phyrra was not much better.

Do you honestly believe your children can win a war?

Clover spent far to much time staring at the entire sentence that wrote itself on his forearm. Just one sentence, and he knew so much more about his soulmate, although, with the Vytal Festival on every screen on the planet he could understand how such things would be on someone’s mind. He’d never heard of any wars though, they were in a time of peace. Sometimes the general said things that made him think… but still, he looked at it again.

The fact that it was a whole sentence intrigued him too, so much that he asked the rest of the Ace Ops.

“Have any of your soulmarks… have any of them been more than one word?”

There was silence for a second, they never really talked about soulmarks. Then Harriet paused her laps to answer the negative. Elm had the same answer which she gave bluntly before going back to his workout.

Marrow had more than a one word answer. “Once, two words, why did you get one like that?” He came over and sat next to Clover.

“A full sentence actually,” Clover admitted.

Vine opened an eye at this. “It’s not unheard of, but certainly unusual, the more soulmarks, the more common it is.”

Clover thought about how many he had all over his skin. “That makes sense.”

Marrow’s tail twitched; a sign, Clover had learned, of curiosity.

“I have quite a few.” He admitted, then he got up and went to the weights. It was a clear signal that he was done talking. They were colleagues, they didn’t discuss personal lives.

Then the fall of Beacon happened. He watched in horror as Penny was torn to pieces. Throughout the night old words burned on his skin with the same force of the new ones that burned themselves onto his skin that god awful night. He could only imagine the horror that was Beacon, given how bad Atlas was. They lost a chunk of the Mantle wall that night, and it was the next evening when he finally had a chance to rest and look at his soulmarks.

That wasn’t the first thing he did though. First he lay down on the floor and thought about the past events. Penny was dead. Here, in the quiet blankness of his room the images of her small body tearing to pieces right in front of his eyes. She had always been so much stronger than she looked, and it was disconcerting to think of her torn to pieces like that. It was more than disconcerting, but the strange duality was all his mind could focus on. Metal or not, this Vytal festival was too soon for her to have been there. He sighed and sat up. He had to think of something else.

There was one on his face. Blind it read, right under his eye. On his side Phyrra. When the list of the dead finally arrived, Clover wasn’t surprised to see her name there. On his knee spy was written in shaky letters. The rest of the words were variations of what had been written before, but they confirmed what Clover suspected when the letters first began burning. His soulmate was at the battle of Beacon.

Ironwood returned and Clover’s entire world got so much bigger and so much scarier. Winter’s mysterious path was now one he knew about but it didn’t make it any better. Regardless, he gritted his teeth and followed Ironwood’s orders because he was the only person who ever saw him as more than a semblance and if he didn’t know what to do, who would?

Qrow and Tai took turns watching Ruby in shifts. Just visible on her chest the word Robot was midnight black. Black like Summer’s words were on Tai and he almost didn’t want her to wake up, because then his niece would have to deal with something she was far too young for. She shifted and murmured in her sleep and Qrow could not do more than adjust her blankets.

When Taiyang came in and took over they didn’t talk. He left with a huff and went to Yang’s room. That was the unspoken agreement, when they switched over they checked on Yang, who was not doing much better. She was still sitting in the same place she was when he last saw her. Staring out the window with a blank stare.

“Hey firecracker,” he started, “How you doing?”

She didn’t reply at first but he sat down anyway. He had done the last few times. She never spoke but he wanted her to know that she could.

“Do you have a soulmate?” She finally said, her voice was quiet.

“Yes.”

“It’s just… I’ve never seen your marks.”

He laughed bitterly and reached up to touch his face. “I keep them covered most of the time.” He looked at her and thought. “And I haven’t met him yet.”

She turned away from the window to look at him. “I think Blake was my soulmate.”

He didn’t speak and instead waited for her to continue.

“But I never said anything because she had her own shit to deal with and I wanted to get to know her without that pressure but-” she stopped with a noise of frustration.

“Now you wish you’d told her?”

Yang lifted her other arm to show him the purple-black writing that lay there.

“Adam,” he read out.

“That’s who took my arm,” Yang said bitterly. “And coward hasn’t stopped burning, neither has White Fang.”

Qrow was starting to understand now.

“I just wish she’d have talked to me, I mean why doesn’t she realise that I don’t care! I would be there for her and if she seriously thinks that I would hate her for this then she’s wrong. I don’t hate her I… I need her.”

“Oh firecracker,” he said again and pulled her into a hug. “Soulmates aren’t perfect, but you know yours now, and I know you can get through this. Whether she’s here or not.”

“Yeah,” she sniffles. “I guess.”

Ruby left in the winter months for Haven and he followed her. No new soulmarks appeared on him, and he wondered vaguely if there were any more on his soulmate. Every so often there was a flickering on his hand, green letters that appeared too quickly for him to make out. He ignored it, beyond wondering whether that was an unusual thing for soulmarks to do.

Then one night he was woken from his sleepy perching on a nearby tree by Ruby yelling.

“Jaune!” She was shouting. “Nora, Ren!” He was ready to come crashing through the tree to the rescue when he realised that she sounded more happy than sad. So he perched on a nearby tree and watched.

“Look,” she sounded breathless and teary. “Please tell me I’m not seeing things.”

She’d unbuttoned her shirt slightly and Qrow barely kept in his squawk of surprise. The letters were once again a vibrant green. Robot, of course. He didn’t linger for long after that, he was satisfied that there was no dire emergency and as happy as he was for Ruby he could only think of the negative feelings that this had to be causing Jaune.

Sure enough there were several Grimm coming closer. Nothing too much for him, thankfully. Still, he wondered what James was playing at, far away in Atlas.

Penny was back and as bubbly as ever. She still kept her soulmarks in full view. Immature in brilliant red on her neck. Stupid on her leg. A new one on her face: Late. According to Penny, though, her soulmate was none of those things. According to Penny her soulmate was the greatest thing in the world. He had to have seen the footage of her fighting at the Vytal Festival a hundred times. Not that he minded. It was good to see Penny happy.

His soulmate had been fairly silent, at least in terms of new marks, there was always a burning sensation from those already there on his skin. He was in a meeting with Ironwood and Winter when new ones finally came, which was unfortunate because he could barely focus on what was happening in the meeting. When the second one came in a searing pain across his abdomen he doubled over with a cry of pain. It was worse than the others.

He was excused from the meeting and when he looked Late and in a line across his abdomen: VenomTailNoNoNo.

As the hours ticked by, Clover’s marks stopped burning so much, but only because they started darkening instead. Blood Red deepening into black. He stayed awake that night watching the Killer on his face slowly drain of colour.

“Please,” he whispered to no one in particular, “Please don’t let him die.” Not before he had a chance to tell him everything he hated about himself was wrong.

Qrow woke up to the same amount of soulmarks as always. He wondered how close he came to death. He wondered if his soulmate even cared. Those thoughts didn’t help and once he had the obligatory talk with Leo, he found himself at the bar.

It was a strange kind of peace, drowning in alcohol and his own thoughts. The former was winning a slow battle. Slowly draining him of any care at all. It hurt less.

“Umm excuse me?” The voice was to young to be at a bar and Qrow stopped to tell him as such and froze.

The boy was small, freckled and dressed in simple farm clothes. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt. There were bandages around his neck, gloves on his hands and his sleeves were pulled down over his wrists. But none of that could hide the words on his face. They were faded grey, like most of Oz’s words, but Qrow knew them. Qrow was one of the only people in the world who knew those words. Ozpin showed him those words for exactly this reason.

But this boy was so, so young. Too young, he thought. Still, before he could say anything, Qrow tossed him the cane and turned back to the bar. He needed another drink first.

It was never only one drink.

When he was finally dragged back to the house by little Oz, he was in no state to explain anything. He wasn’t able to until he’d made himself some coffee and sobered up a little. By then RNJR were crowded round the boy, staring.

He got them to give the boy a little space and let Ozpin explain everything, because coffee or not, he was still not sober enough for it.

It took a few days for the topic to turn to soulmates. It was brought on by Ren and Nora, who had known they were each other’s soulmates since they were kids and were still insisting that it was a platonic bond. Qrow didn’t have a problem with platonic bonds, Ruby had a platonic bond and that was fine. But Ren and Nora were, in his humble opinion, not very good at being platonic. Still, that was what they insisted on, and so that’s what he would go with.

Jaune was shifting in his position on the couch looking uncomfortable and depressed, but he didn’t leave. Ren and Nora talked for a while about how they realised. Then Ruby told the story of how she realised that Penny was her soulmate and then ended up in a dumpster. This cheered Jaune up a little and then Nora asked him about his soulmate. Ren interjected right after and said he didn’t have to tell them.

Qrow tried to act nonchalant. “I’ve not met him yet, but I’m not too fussed.” He told them. He wasn’t bothered some days. Other days he was rapidly diving between wanting desperately to know them and never wanting to meet the person who had his darkest thoughts written on their skin.

The night ended quietly and everyone went to bed subdued. Soulmates weren’t always a happy thing, and Qrow wondered why the Gods even created them. Over his knuckles, a green word flickered briefly and vanished again before he could read it. 

Clover wasn't sure about closing the borders. He understood why, but he wished it didn’t have to happen. The embargo was beginning to take a toll on Mantle. He hesistated on following those orders, only for a moment. Thoughts like that never lasted. He trusted James. He would not abandon him like that.

Clover turned away when he was suddenly seized by a pain on his hands. Ozpin. It was quickly followed by Temper, but Clover didn’t much care until later because everything hurt. Every single word that had ever appeared on his skin was on fire and he couldn’t stand anymore. Breathing was hard and every movement he made only worsened it. Ironwood found him there 10 minutes later still doubled over on the ground. Another 10 minutes later when he could sit up he saw him. He was sitting by Clover with his scroll in one hand. Clover vaguely remembered hearing Ironwood calling someone for help but he didn’t quite remember. The general was staring at his hand and Clover retracted it defensively. He wasn’t a big fan of people looking at his soulmarks.

“Your soulmate…” James started.

“Never met him.” Clover said tersely. James looked thoughtful but said nothing more.

The pain continued for the next few hours. He cancelled the Ace Ops training session and went to bed. Over the night more words joined the first.

Stupid. Careless. Failure.

Clover wanted to hold his soulmate close and never let him go. He didn’t care if the words were true or not. Nobody deserved to feel like this. And then, around Clover’s neck like a noose, the word Everything twisted into existence and Clover didn’t know what to do.

His soulmate was hurting so much and he couldn’t do anything to help him. Not for the first time he felt helpless. He hoped someone was there in his stead.

It took longer than usual for the pain to subside, but when it did it was like weight had been lifted off Clover’s shoulders. Everything felt lighter, still a little sore, but he thought it was better than before. He could, of course, be wrong, but he didn’t think so.

The train was wrecked. Ozpin was a liar. And Qrow had punched a child.

He felt like shit. And worst of all they lost the soulmark makeup in the train crash. You couldn’t see the kids’ yet because they didn’t regularly transform into birds. But his was almost gone and so now he had to face people with his words bare on his chest and arms and face. It was the face that really bothered him.

Ruby’s eyes widened when she saw it, but she didn’t mention it. None of them did, but he saw the glances. The same glances team STRQ gave him. He pushed past them and found somewhere alone. Soulmarks be dammed. His had brought him nothing but misery.

He finally covered them again when they got to Argus, but not before everyone in their party and Jaune’s sister’s family and who knows how many people in Argus saw them. He felt bare. He felt… too much to categorise. And it was so overwhelming.

So he drank. And with every drink he hated himself a little more and so he drank a little more to numb it. The world fell into a blur of pain and on his skin the Helpless burned.

And then Ruby was there, all hope and clear silver eyes. She cut through the haze of self-loathing and suddenly, like a flash flood he remembered what was important. Who was important.

Ruby. Yang. That was his family. They were who he fought for. They were who he kept going for. Ruby, Yang, and Summer.

He saw her in that moment, and he thought that she would be so ashamed of what he’d become. In that moment, as she unknowingly repeated Summer’s last words to him, he vowed that he’d get better for them. His nieces were part of this now, and he needed to be better, for them. 

Chapter Text

Clover was enjoying himself. For once they had been called down to Mantle over something that wasn’t to do with the embargo he still felt uneasy about. The group were an easy catch. Some of the members looked a little familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them. Not thinking too much about it, he walked over to where the oldest of the group was yelling about being a huntsman.

Their eyes met and Clover paused for a second, just a second, to consider him. He did the same, and then they both looked away. The man was taken with the others into a truck and Clover studied the lamp hooked on his belt. It looked familiar.

The lamp was indeed familiar. It was one of the four relics, according to James, which meant that the people they arrested were coming straight to Atlas.

He didn’t see them again immediately though. Ironwood had a meeting with them in his office while Clover made the Ace Ops wait outside. To apologise for the welcome.

The older man wasn’t with them when they return, but Penny was, and she was practically attached to a red cloaked girl who Clover realised, a little late, was Penny’s soulmate: Ruby Rose.

The man’s name was Qrow Branwen. He was Ruby’s uncle, which Clover discovered when James introduced them, right after he walked in on the two hugging.

Clover had heard about Qrow, many many times, mostly from Winter who seemed adamant that he was no good. After meeting the man he decided to reserve judgement until he’d gotten to know him better. Winter had, on several occasions, complained about the huntsman’s alcoholism, but he didn’t seem drunk. So, Clover smiled a little awkwardly and offered to show the man to his quarters.

Ironwood had insisted on pairing him and Branwen together, but hadn’t given a reason other than that he thought they would be a good fit together. Clover didn’t question it out loud, and he fully intended to work with Qrow as ordered, but still he wondered why. He hadn’t seen the general look quite that devious since the last Schnee ball they’d went to when he’d ordered them to covertly break things.  

Clover didn’t trust it.

Still, now that they were in the cave and walking together he supposed he should make the effort to talk to the man. To his surprise, however, Qrow initiated the conversation for him.

“Gotta say, I’m still not really used to working with other Huntsmen in the field.” He commented nonchalantly.

Clover was slightly surprised, he had heard Ironwood mention Qrow’s team before, the way he phrased it sounded like he’d never properly worked with anyone. So, he asked, because that was how conversations worked. Qrow’s answer was quite frankly depressing, and Clover told him as such. Well, they were trying to get along, so he said it in nicer words.

“Well, I think that’s a shame.”

Before Qrow could reply he slipped on the ice and Clover caught his wrist, stopping his fall with a jerk. He pulled him up to his feet then they were facing each other, their faces close. Clover swallowed and moved on, he needed to check in with the rest of the team. His skin burned a little more than usual, but he dismissed it.

Qrow caught up with him a little after but they didn’t resume their conversation. Clover wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. There was an awkward tension in the air, and Clover wondered if Qrow thought that he was just going to let him fall or if his mind was on how close they had been when he’d caught him.

Their conversation didn’t resume because the Geist appeared and he discarded all thoughts of Qrow and zeroed in on the threat in front of him. He ran forward going for the Geist; grimm like this were hard for him to fight without backup, but he had to try, although it wouldn’t hurt to have Qrow help a little. As if summoned by his thoughts – which would have been creepy – Qrow yelled.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned to look at Qrow and then noticed the beam falling. It landed just an inch from him and Clover thanked the Gods for his semblance. Close calls like this seemed like second nature now, but they still set alight the guilty feeling in his stomach. Someone else would have died from that.

He pushed the thought from his head and updated the rest of the team on their status. Then he turned to Qrow and thanked him for the call out, even though it wasn’t necessary.

Qrow sighed, it was a heavy sigh, with the weight of the world imbued in it and Clover’s chest hurt. “I wouldn’t thank me. My semblance brings misfortune.” Clover froze, unsure what to say. “Sometimes I can’t keep it under control.” Qrow’s voice got quieter as he finished and he looked at Clover like he wasn’t expecting anything. Not anything positive. As his expression became more despondent, Clover’s skin flared up like a thousand needles were running across it.

“That so?” He eventually said, trying to sound as if he didn’t care. He tried to act as if Qrow had just told him what was for lunch. “Well, hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.” He wondered if he should tell Qrow about his semblance, he wasn’t sure whether it would make the man resent him. He pulled down the beam with Kingfisher and gritted his teeth. Honesty, he should start this with honesty. “My semblance is good fortune. Lucky you, huh?” He winked.

And then he went straight into talking to his communicator. His heart was racing, pounding in his chest and all he could think about was Qrow’s reaction, had he even said the right thing. Honesty, he had been honest, and that was important for any relationship. But he hadn’t been, not completely, another voice reminded him. He was fairly sure Qrow was his soulmate, but he hadn’t said a word about that, just winked like an idiot.

Now was not the time.

Qrow stared at the space where Clover had been seconds ago. Good fortune. Good fortune. Good fortune. He wasn’t really sure how to feel, this was something he’d been thinking about since before his soulmarks. Since before he got confirmation that someone else out there had a semblance tied to luck. But now… he wasn’t even sure where to begin. Logically, he knew that the lucky on his chest could have been taken literally, as a semblance, especially with the words that accompanied it, but that didn’t mean he was ready for it to become a reality.

And now was not the time to think about these sorts of things. Later he told himself, later. Instead he followed Clover through the tunnels in silence.

When they reached the Geist, Qrow was frozen by the dust hurtling towards them. Knowing his luck this wouldn’t end well. He’d forgotten about Clover, who caught it in one hand and casually tossed it to Qrow. Acting like he hadn’t just risked everyone’s lives, Clover tipped off the ledge and saluted him. Qrow's heart jumped for an entirely different reason. 

Qrow felt a little bad about not doing anything in the fight. Ruby had done more than he had. But there wasn’t really much he could do about that now. Instead, he landed next to Clover and struck up a conversation.

“Lucky catch,” he complimented, thinking a little resentfully about how helpful his own semblance would have been in this fight. Clover turned to face him all smiles and easy going attitude. But the burning across Qrow’s chest where he knew the words Lucky lay suggested otherwise.

Well it was nice to have it confirmed. If not completely terrifying.

“I’d chalk that one up to talent.” Clover said in response. There was an edge to his voice that Qrow didn’t think he would have noticed if it weren’t for his marks. He sighed and played with the back of his hair.

“Yeah probably, had to have been pretty talented to get into the Ace Ops.”

Clover looked surprised. The feeling on his skin lessened, just a little, and he smiled. Qrow didn’t smile back. He was now almost certain that the man standing opposite him was his soulmate. His soulmate.

For the rest of their journey out of the mines he remained silent, turning the idea over in his head. Clover didn’t speak either and Qrow wondered whether he knew. He had to. There was no way that Qrow’s semblance wasn’t one of Clover’s marks. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he wasn’t Clover’s soulmate.

Qrow went through the possibilities in his head. One stuck out and settled in his mind. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn’t. His mind didn’t seem to care for his pointing this out because it insisted on putting the thought front and centre. Displaying Qrow’s own self hatred in one single thought.

Clover knew that they were soulmates and simply didn’t want him.

Yet over the next few weeks Clover didn't act like he didn’t want anything to do with Qrow. Instead he brought coffee for Qrow in the mornings; assigned them on missions together constantly; and kept pulling Qrow along with him to Ace Op lunches.

Qrow only realised what he was doing when the withdrawal from the alcohol really began to rear its head. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling fighting desperately not to get up and go to the kitchen, where he knew there would be something to drink. Someone knocked on his door just as he felt his resolve begin to crumble. he stumbled over and opened it. 

Clover was stood there holding up a packet of cards. "Couldn't sleep, wondered if you wanted some company." He said softly. Qrow stood for a few seconds staring at him before nodding and letting Clover in. He let him tidy up the space and make some tea that he had brought with him. The cards became a regular feature, like magic whenever things got bad, Clover would be at his door, tea in hand and cards ready to be dealt. 

When they were playing cards in the back of a truck and he was losing continuously, his luck being beaten constantly by Clover’s, Clover had switched up the conversation to his nieces. Then he’d complimented him on how much they likely relied on him.

“It’s a good thing they had someone to look up to and get through it. Not everyone is so lucky.” He dealt out the cards and watched Qrow out of the corner of his eye.

“I don't know about all that. Thanks, by the way. For looking out for 'em. You and your team,” Qrow said, picking up his cards.

Clover sighed. Maybe Qrow knew that he was trying to make him feel better, maybe he didn’t, either way it was hard getting the man to accept the compliment. He tried again and all he got in reply was Qrow’s relaxed  statement.

“Once upon a time, I’d have drank to that.”

Clover danced a little inside at the confirmation that Qrow was sober, then went back to the matter at hand. “You shouldn’t do that you know.”

“Oh don’t worry I gave that up.”

“I meant deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn’t be where they are now without you. You’ve had more of an impact on them than you realise.”

Qrow smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. On his skin, Clover’s words cooled and the pain lessened. Even if the change was minuscule, Clover welcomed it.

They still hadn’t talked about the fact that they were soulmates. Clover was fairly sure that they both knew. A theory that was confirmed when Qrow started returning his responses to soulmate pain in kind.

Marrow scowled as his weapon clattered to the floor and his aura dropped into the red.

“Should’ve known I still couldn’t beat you, that luck of yours is unbeatable.”  

“I think that’s just skill kid.” Qrow drawled as he sauntered over to them. Clover smiled at him and then flicked his fishing rod.

“More skill than you?” He asked with a smirk.

“Hah,” Qrow drew Harbinger and met his eyes, “Keep dreaming.”

“Who is it that always delivers the finishing blow again?”

“You,” Qrow raised an eyebrow and smirked, “But that’s only because your fishing rod can’t do any of the heavy lifting.”

“Please, this takes actual skill to wield. What have you got? A gardening tool?”

Qrow leapt forward with a grin as he extended the scythe so that the blade curved. “Well I was going to use my sword – you know cause my weapon’s versatile – but seeing as you asked for the oversized gardening tool…”

Clover laughed and dodged the first blow. “I wouldn’t want anything else.”

For the first time in a long time, Qrow was surprised to notice that he was happy. It wasn’t some big revelation, not until later, it was simply a thought one day. Clover was telling a story about one of his old school buddies and Qrow was laughing along and it hit him. He sort of wished it hadn’t. Now he noticed when he was happy, and more importantly, when he wasn’t, which was less and less those days.

He thought Clover was happier too, if soulmarks were anything to go by.

Qrow wouldn’t lie to himself. He knew that part of it was knowing that when he was with Clover his semblance was far less likely to cause any damage. But it was more than just that. He genuinely enjoyed time spent with him. He thought he would whether they were soulmates or not, but he tried not to dwell on such thoughts. There was no way of ever proving it after all.

But more than the realisation that he was happy, when it really hit him how much had changed was when Clover took him to the Atlas botanical gardens. (Qrow did not spend the entire night before wondering if it was a date. He was a grown man. He did not.) When the doors opened and Qrow was met with the sweet heavy scent of warm wet plants, Qrow suddenly realised that the flowers were colourful.

Objectively he knew this. It was common knowledge and he never saw the flowers in grayscale, or some shit like that. But before this moment he was convinced they had never looked this bright. Never had they stood out like this. Never had he noticed the colour quite like this.

“I’m telling you,” he protested over Clover, “The flowers here are brighter.”

“They’re grown in a greenhouse Qrow, how can they possibly be better than the ones in their native habitat.”

“I don’t know,” he made a frustrated noise, “But they are.”

In the next room he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair and pulled Clover over to her.

“Yang!” He yelled, “Tell Clover that the flowers here are brighter than the ones in Mistral!”

Yang frowned. “But they aren’t?” And then she turned around and walked over to where Blake was emerging from the bathroom. Qrow felt a small sense of satisfaction about being right about them. Then he turned back to the flowers.

“I swear they’re brighter.” He told Clover.

“Maybe,” Clover ventured, “They just look brighter to you. Perspectives change.”

Qrow thought he understood what Clover was saying but he didn’t really want to think about that then. He was happy, walking around the gardens with Clover and the deep meaning of colourful flowers could wait.

Instead he let Clover tell him the superficial meanings of plants. Apparently his family was big on that kind of thing. One of Qrow’s marks twinged at that and so he pulled Clover over to the Vacuo section and asked about what a rather rude looking plant meant. Clover immediately delved into the history of not the plant Qrow pointed out but the one next to it.

“And because it was so hard to reach, people began giving them as declarations of love or as marriage proposals. The whole idea is that you love someone so much you’d go to the ends of the earth for them.” He finished with a smile and looked at Qrow.

“Seems kind of a lot of effort for a pretty ugly plant.” He turned away from the plant and to Clover. “I’d rather something useful.”

“That’s not the point,” Clover sighed.

But before he could continue Qrow held a hand up. “I know. It’s just if I were going on a perilous journey for you, I’d want to bring you back something nicer.” Qrow realised what he’d said a millisecond later. Then he realised, just as quickly, that he might do that for Clover. It would have to be something good though, he didn’t think they were at worthless flower stage yet.

“Me too,” Clover said evenly, “But I don’t think we should jump from one date to undying love just yet.” His face was still completely calm but there was a twinkle in his eye and a flush to his cheeks. 

“I agree. I think we should at least kiss first.”

Clover blinked rapidly for a few seconds before Qrow leant in and kissed him.

When they broke apart Clover was a little flustered and smiling and Qrow had never felt happier.

This, of course, was when the alarms went off.

It was only later that they learnt everything that happened at Robyn's party and Clover knew that Qrow was feeling guilty about it. So he stuck by his side and reiterated that it wasn’t their fault. Partially for himself if he was being honest. They hadn’t spoken about the kiss; they hadn’t had time.

And then when the riots were finally settled. New problems arose. Tyrian Callows was alive and well; Jaques Schnee was trying out his newfound power; and there was no time to discuss their personal lives.

Instead they had to go to a fancy party and Clover didn’t even get to dress up. Instead he had to settle for his military uniform and a kiss from Qrow. Or kisses.

“Dating now?” Qrow asked on the way to Schnee manor.

“Dating now.” Clover confirmed, nudging him gently as they pulled up to the mansion. They kissed once more before joining the others gathered at the door.

“Wish me luck,” he called out to Qrow as they headed for Jacque's dining room.

“They already brought you didn’t they?” He called back and for once the joke didn’t hurt. He knew that that was all the remark was to Qrow: a joke. 

He should have known that his lucky streak would end. Of course the happiness couldn’t last. He hoped to have Tyrian in jail before it did. Then the call came.

They all sat in silence as Ruby’s voice shouted through the small blue screen. She sounded desperate, disbelieving, betrayed. But most of all, she just sounded sad. Qrow felt similar; he hated that he wasn't surprised. 

And then, not a minute later, there was a warrant out for his arrest. He hoped that RWBY and JNPR were ok, but there was a more pressing problem.

“Clover…”

He was standing. “Qrow you should know that I’ve been asked to bring you in.” There was a pounding in his ears and Tyrian’s mad comments seemed a world away. “There’s also an alert out for team RWBY’s arrest.” Clover continued.

“What?” Qrow shoved all thoughts of soulmates and loyalties aside. “Has James lost his mind?”

Robyn was more indignant than he was, and started calling Ironwood out on all sorts of things. Clover’s jaw clenched and Qrow felt the almost-mark on his hand flicker again. He ignored it. Tried to calm Clover and Robyn down.

Clover didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t the two of them just listen to him. He was sure that James had a good reason for this, if they would just do as he said then everything would be fine. He was sure they could sort this all out if they just came with him. But instead they were fighting in the middle of a ship with a madman on it and really it was no surprise that he escaped and sent them crashing into the tundra.

They went crashing into the ice and when Clover leapt out to avoid the collision his eyes met Qrow’s. Across his skin the marks burned, almost like a final plea, and Clover thought that Qrow’s were probably doing the same thing. But he had to do this. Whatever James was thinking it was the right thing to do.

Qrow would understand he told himself as the ship crashed in an explosion of snow. Qrow had to understand. He waited for the ship to settle and then moved forward.

Qrow was checking on Robyn. From his body language he could tell she was fine. There was a small release in tension as he realised that they were both relatively unharmed. Then he realised what he had to do and the relief vanished. 

“Robyn needs help. Surrender and we can take her to Atlas get her patched up.”

The dance was so familiar to Qrow by now. He should be used to the betrayal, the manipulation, but somehow it just hurt more every time. He thought that of all people his soulmate would trust him. He thought his soulmate wouldn’t do this. He reached for Harbinger.

“Never pegged you for the manipulative type.” He clenched the handle of his scythe and swallowed. He knew how to act cold, angry, callous. He drew on that knowledge. “But I’ve learned a lot of things tonight.” Like how soulmates only meant something to Clover when they were convenient. When they helped him feel better.

“I enjoyed working with you you know,” Clover said, but didn’t mention that they were soulmates. Maybe he didn’t see them as that any more. Or maybe he just didn’t want any more reminders of what he was doing, “Even with that endless cynicism of yours.” Qrow’s entire body was tense, like a bow drawn back to its limit. Clover of all people should have understood the cynicism.

“I’m usually proven right.” He pointed out. “I would have thought you knew that.” 

“We don’t have to fight friend.” And that, that stung more than anything. Because they were never friends. In Qrow’s mind they went from mission partners to soulmates to partners again.

And now, they were enemies.

But he played along with the friend comment. “You don’t know my friends.” It struck him that Clover didn’t, in the short time they’d know each other they had never really talked. Clover didn’t know his friends. Or that very few of them were alive and on good speaking terms with him. And in the end he told Clover the truth.

“That’s how it always goes.”

Clover sighed. Qrow’s hand burned in a pulsating flicker. He didn’t wonder what it said. Anger was boiling up in his veins at at Clover and at himself. He let it take control and leapt forward.

This was how it always ended.

When Tyrian entered the fray. All manic giggles and mad eyes. Clover made a choice. It was a split second choice. One he regretted a minute later. But that regret was short lived when Qrow turned right back around and started working with the murderer against him instead. Did it all mean nothing to him? Why couldn't his soulmate just have trusted him in the first place? 

None of that mattered now though. Clover thought of the words on his forehead and he readied himself for the fight.

Qrow’s head was spinning. Everything was happening like a train running out of control and Clover just wouldn’t let up. He just kept coming for Qrow and every time he did the betrayal stung a little more. It was one of the closest fights he’d ever been in and as experienced as he was he wasn’t sure who was actually winning. Except for Tyrian, he thought bitterly, Tyrian was enjoying this no matter the outcome.

He glanced between Harbinger lying in the snow and Clover. He made a decision. The second his fist landed on Clover's gut he knew it was the wrong one. But what was one more mistake in a lifetime of them.

“Why couldn’t you just do the right thing,” Their bond went unsaid, really it was not the core of his issue with Clover. “Instead of the thing you were told.”

“Sometimes the right decision is the hardest to make.” Qrow was reminded violently of Ozpin, standing in his office, talking about a girl who never came back. “I trust James with my life,” Clover said, sounding unfairly upset. He stood up and Qrow felt belittled. His own soulmate put someone else over him. “I wanted to trust you.” But I don’t, hung unspoken in the air and Qrow wanted nothing more than to reach in his jacket, pull out the weight that no longer rested there and drown his feelings.

“Then why didn’t you!?” He yelled over the tundra, and his voice cracked. “I’m-“

Qrow wasn’t sure what he would have said after that. Whatever his next words were they were cut off by the awful sound of his sword going through Clover. Red and sliver and white and they all froze for a moment to stare.

His skin felt like ice but it was on fire. His soulmate was dying. Dying. Dying.

He suddenly didn’t care what Clover had done before. All he could see was his soulmate staggering a few steps forward before he fell, unable to move much anymore. In the silent tundra Clover’s breathing filled his ears.

“Doesn’t look like your friend’s gonna make it.” Tyrian mocked, hefting Harbinger over his shoulder like Qrow had done so many times before.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Oh you mean, like you just killed Clover?” And Qrow knew he meant that it was his weapon and Clover’s blood but he was right. The fight played out once more before him and Qrow knew he had a hand in Clover’s death. This was his fault, even if Tyrian dealt the finishing blow.

He didn’t care what Tyrian was saying after that. He just knew that the words were grating on his ears because it wasn’t him that dealt the finishing blow, but he’d made it possible.

But he was too tired to do anything about it. As Clover died behind him the energy was leaking out and leaving him. He could feel a dull ache sinking into his skin where his marks were. The only sign of life was the almost mark on his knuckles which burned like an accusatory brand.

“Someone had to take the fall.” Clover said when he knelt down beside him. It shouldn’t have been Clover.

“James will take the fall,” he promised, gathering Clover into his lap. The general is the one who set them on this path against each other. The one who sparked this outcome. He would make him pay. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Clover shifted his eyes to look behind Qrow to where the sun was rising in a beautiful red warning. He looked back after a glance.

Clover chuckled a little and then said, “Good luck.” There was a smile on his face as his eyes went dull and on Qrow’s hand the last burning word went cold.

Out in the icy tundra his screams probably echoed for miles. He screamed for all the things that had been lost in that night. And at whoever thought soulmates were a good idea in the first place.

It was a brand new day as the Atlesian soldiers collected Robyn and began to bring noise into the empty tundra. He grabbed Clover’s stupid pin and turned it over in his hand. Around him they shouted but he was too busy staring at the new word on his knuckles.

It was black. Like all his words were now.

Loyalty.

Qrow laughed and cried in a jumbled mess of sounds that probably weren’t helping prove his innocence. Loyalty. Clover had realised that one just a little too late.