"The decision of one man, to launch a wholly unjustified and brutal invasion of Iraq. I mean, of the Ukraine. Iraq too. Anyway — I'm 75."

-George W. Bush

Oscar couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

It had been a normal Sunday morning so far — Oscar had risen at the crack of dawn with the rest of his family, gone and fed the sheep, and was done in time to study for Monday's test.

Except he didn't return home when he was done. Instead, he made his way into town to buy a newspaper as soon as it arrived.

Why?

Because there was a tiny part of him still holding out hope that he wasn't insane.

'You are perfectly sane, Oscar,' the voice in his head reassured him.

How comforting.

Oscar cursed himself for being so nervous as he entered the post office.

"What can I do for ya', son?" the postman asked.

"I'm looking for this month's paper," Oscar told him.

"Just arrived," the man told him with a friendly smile, reaching below the counter and heaving out a stack of papers. "Didn't know any boys your age read the paper!"

"Hehe, yeah… Just something I heard," he distractedly responded to the man's small talk. He forced himself to walk to the counter, doing his best not to make it obvious how eager he was to see the front page.

WHITE FANG TURNED TRAITORS — VALE AND MANTLE ATTACKED

Digging out a lien from his pocket, a shaking hand paid the postman. Taking the paper, he muttered an excuse and ran.

Where to, he wasn't sure. He ran out of town into the woods, well aware he was risking his life if a Grimm found him. He wasn't sure he cared, because if what the voice in his head had been telling him was true, which it was beginning to look like, then that didn't matter all that much.

'I appreciate you honoring our agreement, Oscar,' the voice in his- no, Ozma said.

With trembling hands, Oscar slumped against the base of a tree and began flipping through the pages, allowing the thing in his head time to read. That had been their agreement — that Oscar would look at the paper to confirm that Ozma wasn't just his sanity slipping, and if he could prove that he was telling the truth about what had happened in Vale, Oscar would buy the paper so that Ozma could catch up on what had happened.

Oscar, convinced it was just his imagination, had agreed to shut the voice up.

Oscar skimmed over the news as well, and found his disbelief growing by the moment.

Perseus Becomes Vale's Savior

Oscar's parents had taught him to be skeptical of their leader — always going on about how the papers lied. They had gradually warmed up to him — Oscar included — as their lives had gotten gradually better, but he was having a hard time believing what he was reading.

They said he held off millions of Grimm on his own, killed a Dragon — which his parents had told him weren't real! — single-handedly, and then created a new sea to keep Grimm away from Vale?

He wasn't even able to process that information because there was so much more!

Mantle had almost fallen, but Atlas saved them. Menagerie had been taken over by White Fang — who were bad guys now — but then Perseus had saved them too.

Another page talked about how the Vytal festival — whatever that was, it was apparently important — was being delayed so that Beacon could be repaired.

'Interesting…' the immortal wizard in his head trailed off. 'Thank you Oscar, I have learned much. Now that you believe me, it's more important than ever that we contact Qrow.'

"But… mom and dad," he muttered.

His life, the farm, everything he'd known. He had to just… leave it behind?

'They will not understand. It's not fair, but you must rise to the occasion — the fate of Remnant is at stake, your parents included.'

"But I don't want to leave!" he cried out, the sound muffled by his hands.

He couldn't help himself. Feeling like a child, Oscar buried his face in his shaking hands, and he cried. Tears flowed freely, mixing with the dirt and grime on his face. Each sob wracked his body, reverberating through the silent woods.

I can't do this. He thought I'm no huntsman — I'm just the farmer's boy.

But even as he cried, part of him knew what he had to do.

"We want to look for Yang," Ruby announced.

Percy glanced up from his overcrowded desk. "Hello to you too," he quipped.

Ruby and Pyrrha entered, but didn't sit down. He could feel their patience thinning as he finished deciphering the document in front of him, finally signing and stamping it. He didn't have to deal with too much personally, but for what did require his signature he wanted to make sure he knew what he was approving.

Taking a moment to stretch, Percy finally addressed the two. "So, what's up?"

"We want to look for Yang," Ruby repeated. "All of us."

He was hardly surprised at the request, but he had to admit he was a bit surprised at how quick it had come. They hadn't stepped off the ship from Menagerie more than a few hours ago, and they were already antsy to start searching.

He couldn't blame them. He'd want to do the same — Hades, he kind of did anyway.

"You're not ready," he told them, knowing they would refuse to hear him. But it was the truth — they were plenty strong, but they weren't equipped to go marching through the woods for weeks on end. More could kill you than simply being overpowered.

"We're not asking for permission," Pyrrha stepped forward, being uncharacteristically confrontational. "We can go with your blessing and you can keep tabs on us, or we'll sneak out the moment you're not looking."

Percy's eyebrows shot up, and he sent Pyrrha a curious look. He understood, though. He'd quite literally done the same thing when Grover had gone missing. This was very much a similar situation.

Ignoring the threat — because he could very well make that impossible if he wanted to— he thought about it. Like he said, he'd known this was coming, and planned on having someone go with them to help make sure they were safe. The problem was… who?

He quickly shuffled through the unread papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for and skimmed through it.

Setting it down, he smiled at the two. "I never said no. And as it turns out, it's your lucky day. You can leave tomorrow. In fact," he added, a sly grin spreading across his face, "you'll have some company."

When Percy returned to his Villa that night, he hadn't expected a light to be on.

Cautiously, he set down his bag and kicked the door shut. There wasn't much point in being quiet — the intruder would have heard him enter.

Lightly gripping Riptide, Percy silently made his way to where the light was coming from — a room he didn't often use.

He was met by the sight of a young woman in a slim red dress lounging in front of his fireplace. Her cheeks lightly flushed red from the flames and the wine. As she turned to him, glossy black hair flowed over a single exposed shoulder down into her cleavage, drawing attention to the way her finely woven dress clung to her milky pale skin.

The silky fabric rested against her, the soft light of the fire illuminating every curve and dip on her torso, casting shadows from every fold and trailing down to a skirt that cut off at her upper thigh, showing off the way they pressed against one another when her legs were crossed. Her enticing ivory skin seemed to lead on for an eternity before revealing her feet, one bare, the other dangling a black heel from her toe.

"You sure took your time," Cinder purred, gracefully leaning forward to pour a second glass of wine. Percy knew what she was doing, but let his eyes follow the cut of her dress anyway.

He swallowed, his throat dry.

"This is why I told Shiro I didn't want guards," he drawled, taking a seat in the chair across from her. His hand remained in his pocket. "They never seem to make much difference."

She allowed his quip an amused smile, leaning across the gap between them to hand him his glass. His eyes followed the folds of her dress rippling in the orange glow.

She raised her own glass in cheers, smiling at him expectantly.

For a few short breaths, he peered down at his glass in contemplation.

"It's good you didn't try to run," he said, gently setting his wine aside.

"Should I have?" Cinder teased, toasting the air and taking a sip. If she was offended, she did a good job of hiding it.

"You have some explaining to do," his tone lacked amusement, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Agreed," Cinder conceded, much — but not all — of the levity leaving her own voice.

She sat her drink aside. "I was there," she admitted. "But not entirely of my own volition. My mistress ordered me — us — to take advantage of the chaos that the White Fang caused to strike a blow at Ozma. I tried to contact you, but couldn't reach you."

Percy frowned, reminded that he had, in fact, been out of the CCTs range at the time. She pulled out her scroll at his gesture, quickly navigating to her call history and handing him the device. She didn't keep contacts for anyone she called, but he recognized his own scroll number well enough. Sure enough, there were half a dozen failed calls to his number ranging from when the White Fang began their assault to just before he would've begun fighting the dragon — not long before Ozpin and Adam had been killed.

He handed her scroll back, but he wasn't convinced. He knew that Cinder didn't actually care about his opinion. He was far more inclined to believe she was covering her ass, but even still the story tracked — she had tried contacting him. Whether that was to warn him or ask for his permission he couldn't know, but it was a point in favor of her doing her honoring their shaky alliance nonetheless.

"I would have killed Taurus sooner," she continued, accepting her scroll and tucking it away. "But I was ordered to restrain myself until Ozma was dead."

Percy grunted. "Salem knew about Adam?"

Cinder raised a single pale shoulder in a helpless shrug. "Abstractly, she knew someone was leading the White Fang. She ordered us to work with him until Ozpin was dead, and to try to convince him to attack Ozpin together. I wasn't there because I was preoccupied with his pet bird," she must have meant Qrow, "but when Ozma was dead, my… colleagues," she spat the word with real distaste "joined me, so I slipped away to kill Taurus."

"Why did you want him dead so much?" Percy questioned, eyes narrowed.

"He obviously betrayed you, for one," she rolled her eyes, "But beyond that, he used the dust I've been paying you for for his little scheme, turning my own plan to kill Ozpin and draw out the Fall Maiden into tatters."

Percy hummed, "This is the first I'm hearing of this plan." His words were icy, but internally he thought that the fact she had a plan she hadn't shared made him trust her a bit more — he knew for a fact she was not an open book, so that she was revealing this much was a point in her favor.

That she had been in a fight to the death with Qrow was… not comforting, per se, but there wasn't much to do there. Her boss was mortal enemies with Qrow's boss. He couldn't be upset when she didn't know he considered Qrow a friend, and he had no inclination to change that any time soon.

"I would have killed him sooner," she continued, "But it looked like the Schnee was about to do it for me — I would have preferred to stay discrete, but decided to step in when he tried to surrender and give you up."

"What could Adam possibly have on me worth revealing?" he wondered aloud.

Cinder waved a dismissive hand, "A mix of truths told from an unfavorable perspective and fabricated stories. Starting the war against the Schnee, forcing the White Fang into more violent acts, attempting to kidnap Schnees, and that Argus was a false flag."

Percy remained somewhat relaxed. He granted the first point had some truth to it, but the rest were mostly made up.

Until she mentioned Argus.

How did he know about that? How could he possibly have known about that? Was it a guess — a made up story that was a bit too on the nose?

He snapped himself out of it. He couldn't let her see there was any truth to the last one. Adam was dead, thank Hades, and the rumor with him. He would need to be careful in case it was something deeper than a lucky guess, but for now…

He concentrated on the situation at hand. He was… not happy they had assassinated Ozpin, with or without trying to get his permission first. But he also knew that if they had to go after anyone on Remnant, he would want it to be Ozpin — after all, he was the only one directly involved in their ancient spat, he couldn't get too upset at them attacking their sworn arch-enemy.

He was still a bit sour that they had helped Adam stab him in the back even marginally before his death, but that was a gripe with Salem. One he didn't intend to forget, but not something he could expect Cinder to do anything about.

That didn't make him any less frustrated with Cinder, however. She had her excuses, but this was the second time in just a few months that she had been toeing the line. His anger ultimately rested on Salem, but Cinder was her servant and his patience with her was running dangerously thin.

But she seemed to realize this, if her cooperation — now and during the battle — was anything to go by.

Cinder leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Hazel's in Mistral, searching for Ozma," she revealed, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "But secretly, he's also searching for the vault of knowledge. Salem's obsessed with the Relics — she believes they hold the key to defeating Ozma once and for all. And as for you..." She pauses, her gaze meeting his with a newfound intensity. "She underestimates you, Perseus. She sees you as a powerful huntsman, nothing more. But I know better..."

"Why tell me this?" he asked. "Your loyalty is to Salem, why tell me what she's doing?"

A low, throaty laugh escaped Cinder's lips. "My loyalty isn't to Salem," she said, her voice laced with a sincere bitterness that surprised him. "She's the one who found me, when I had nowhere else to go. Nobody else to turn to. If I don't do as she says... I die."

Her hand reached out, tracing a light path along his arm. Despite himself, Percy's heart beat heavily in his chest.

He didn't trust her, but the bitterness and resentment she spoke with couldn't be faked. He knew exactly what she was doing, but didn't know that he minded all that much. A year or two ago he probably would have turned her down, not wanting to allow his judgment to be compromised. A few weeks ago, when he'd been with Winter constantly, he probably would have turned her down.

But he had done this before — he had done this with her before, and had no trouble remaining impartial. He'd slept with her and still held her at swordpoint when the situation had called for it.

And the temptation was undeniable.

With a feline grace, Cinder rose from her seat and straddled his lap. Perhaps against his better judgment, Percy made no move to stop her. He took in her scent, a heady mix of smoke and wine.

"But you..." she breathed, the warmth of her breath spilling over his face as her eyes locked with his. "You're strong. Strong enough to defeat the Wyvern," she murmured, her lips brushing up against his ear. "I could be yours, instead of hers. All you have to do... is say so."

She lifted his shirt, revealing his bare chest, her deft hands tracing over his torso as his hands pulled at her dress.

She picked up her wine glass, pressing it to his lips. He opened his mouth and drank, the wine spilling in thin rivulets down his chin.

Cinder leaned down, her tongue tracing the bath of the liquid from his chest up his neck. A shiver ran through him and he gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

Their bodies moved together in a dance of desire. She bit his ear lobe, "Perseus," she gasped softly, breath tickling his ear. "You're powerful. Powerful enough to crush Salem. You could rule this world," her whispers filled his ears, a symphony of praise. Genuine desire filled her words, a primal need that drove him crazy.

Their lips met, the taste of wine mingling with her saliva. With a final tug at his lower lip, Cinder slid down his body, eyes still locked with his as her knees found the carpeted floor.

The firelight flickered, casting long shadows that danced across the room as Cinder knelt before him, her eyes burning with a fiery intensity. Percy's breath hitched in his throat.

He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

After all, he didn't burn easily.

When the sandstone walls of Vacuo came into view, Yang was so relieved she thought she might cry if it wouldn't be a waste of water.

For weeks she had only seen dunes — miles and miles of sand dunes. Even when they did stop at the odd oasis, Samara was strangely insistent that they didn't stick around — claiming that the White Fang would be waiting for them.

She hadn't had a warm meal in that time for the same reason — Samara had been too worried that a fire would give away their position. While Yang didn't want to doubt the woman that had nursed her back to health, she wasn't sure what the big deal was. Surely they could just do what they had done last time, right?

But it was alright — soon she would have a comfortable bed, a warm meal, and a shower.

Dust, she needed a shower.

"This is as far as I go," Samara interrupted her thoughts, coming to a halt.

Yang pulled back on her own camel, furrowing her eyebrows and shooting her newest friend a look. "What? How come?"

The hooded woman didn't answer for several moments, staring at the city in the distance.

"There are people after me. Dangerous people. They will know that I was heading towards the city, and they will be waiting for me," she told Yang, voice tinged with fear.

"But you're strong!" Yang argued. "And I'm here! I know I'm still in training, but I can help!"

Samara shook her head softly. "Strength isn't everything. There are more ways to defeat someone than to be stronger than them. If you wish to repay me, then take this as a lesson — strength will take you far, but if someone truly wishes to kill you, then all of the strength in the world won't save you. Like strength awareness, intelligence, and luck will take you far, but they too are little more than a suit of armor — one with many chinks. Do not become blinded by arrogance."

Yang nodded once, firmly to let Samara know she was taking the lesson seriously. "It sounds like you have personal experience."

"I had a family once," She agreed, softly. "Friends — a life beyond this accursed desert. I lost it all to the very ones waiting for me."

She shook her head. "I have contacts that will ensure you are safe and cared for inside the city. Ride Mercia the rest of the way, they will take care of her until it is safe enough for me to return."

Yang nodded to show she understood, patting her camel. But when it was time to go, Yang found it hard to leave.

"Thank you," she told the woman. "You had no reason to care for me, or go so far out of your way to get me home. I owe you my life."

The cloth that covered her face crinkled as the woman smiled. "Think nothing of it, Yang. I wish… " she paused. "It's been a pleasure. Tell your sister, Ruby, hello for me."

Yang cracked a smile. She'd shared tons of stories from back home over the weeks with nothing better to do, and Ruby had been in a fair few of them. She wouldn't be surprised if Samara felt like she knew Ruby personally at this point.

"Will do," she promised. Awkwardly, she waved goodbye and urged her camel to turn down the dune and finish the trek to the city.

When she looked back up the dune a few moments later, Samara was nowhere to be seen.

She made it to the city without any issue, though it was getting late — or early — enough that she was beginning to tire.

When she reached the gates she expected to have to explain to someone why exactly she wanted to enter the city, but instead she was greeted with nothing more than a nod and an older man offering to take the reigns of her camel.

Hopping off the saddle and slinging a makeshift satchel over her shoulder, Yang said her farewells to Mercia — who she had a love-hate relationship with — and prepared to trudge through the city.

She didn't make it two feet before she was confronted.

"Can I help you?" she asked the man that stepped in front of her. The man was tall, towering head and shoulders over Yang. He was muscular, too, wearing only a ratty tank-top and dusty, torn jeans with a pistol messily tucked through the belt. He was covered in tattoos — his arms and shoulders showing more ink than skin.

"Yang?" he grunted, speaking around a nearly-gone cigarette.

"Who?" she asked, trying not to make it obvious as she scanned her surroundings for anyone else waiting to ambush her.

Three more thugs were arrayed around her.

Yang tried to glance back at the gate without taking her eyes off of the man in front of her, watching as the soldiers lounged casually just a few feet away.

The man in front of her rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Theo's waiting for you, follow me. The boys'll watch our back."

Yang inched the satchel off her back, clenching her hands into fists. "Sorry, but tell whoever Theo is I'll have to turn him down — I only go out with guys man enough to ask me out themselves."

He shot her a weird look. "Kid, the headmaster sent us to make sure you make it through the city, and you telling me you don't even know who he is?"

Yang flushed, but didn't quite relax her fists. "Do you have any proof that you're from Shade?"

Grumbling, the tattooed man dug a plain white envelope out of his back pocket and offered it to her. It was crumpled now, but the handwriting on the front was a neat cursive font, and the seal on the back — now bent awkwardly — was shiny and intricate.

Cautiously, Yang snatched the letter and opened it with one hand, not letting her attention slip.

Yang, it read. As you are a stranded student of Beacon, the royal family have asked me to take you into my care. The men bearing this letter work for me, and will escort you safely to Shade's protection.

The royal family have asked that I pass on the message 'Mercia will miss you'. I have been assured you will understand what it means.

Sincerely,
Theo

The letter was signed plainly, but the pompous engraving of Shade academy's seal beneath it ruined the look.

Mercia will miss you. She thought. Nobody but Samara could know what her camel's name was, right? Then that was proof that these were Samara's 'friends', as unsavory as they looked.

"Alright," she conceded, slowly unclenching her fists. "I'll go with you. But first, I need to make a stop at the CCT tower. I need to contact my family."

The tattooed man shrugged. "Whatever kid. Just put your hood up, your hair sticks out like a sore thumb."

Grumbling, Yang flipped up the hood of the ratty cloak Samara had made for her out of a spare burlap sack, stuffing her hair down her back and quickly blending in with the rest of the faceless, nameless city.

With the four men flanking her, Yang walked through the dimly lit streets of Vacuo, eyes flickering every which way. Shadows clung to every corner and alley, a stark contrast to the vast openness of the desert.

Entering Shade Academy — the CCT built on the campus similar to how Vale's was at Beacon — Yang gazed up at the pyramid-like architecture curiously, but found her mind was preoccupied with thinking about talking to Ruby and her friends.

Reaching the CCT, Yang excitedly sat down in a booth and began typing. She tried Blake first, entering the girl's number deliberately slowly.

"Sorry, but the number you are attempting to contact is currently outside of service range,"

Fighting the pounding in her chest, Yang entered Ruby's number.

"Sorry, but the number you are attempting to contact is currently outside of service range,"

Growling softly, Yang tried Weiss' number, then Qrow's, becoming more and more annoyed by the monotonous mechanical voice every time. Why was everyone she knew outside of the range of a CCT tower?!

She typed in Percy's number, her breath hitching as the line started to ring.

And ring…

And ring…

With a grunt of frustration, she shut off the call. Of course he wouldn't pick up a random call.

Finally, with trembling fingers, she dialed her father's number.

The line rang once, twice...

"Yang?" Her father's voice, thick with relief, crackled through the speaker as a fuzzy image appeared on the screen. "Yang, is that you?"

Tears welled up in Yang's eyes. "Dad! Oh, Dad, I'm okay. I'm in Vacuo."

Her dad launched into a flurry of questions and reassurances, "Are you hurt? Where are you staying? I'll come get you right now-"

"I'm fine, Dad," Yang interrupted, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm safe. I'm going to Shade Academy. But... Dad, where's Ruby?"

A brief silence hung in the air.

"Ruby's in Mistral," he finally answered. "She went back with Percy after the attack on Beacon. She's out looking for you right now."

Yang breathed a sigh of relief. Ruby was alright. "What about uncle Qrow?"

"Working," he grumbled, "And looking for you — apparently he found a way to do both at once."

Yang let out another sigh. "Thank you. One last thing. Has… has Ruby mentioned anything about our other teammates?"

Yang could see his pixelated face nod, and held her breath. "Just before she left to look for you, apparently they were out rescuing your other teammate from being held captive by the White Fang. I… I feared the same for you, but sometimes I almost hoped…"

Yang smiled wider than she could ever remember herself smiling, unable to stop the tears from leaking from her eyes now. "It's okay Dad, I understand. It's okay. I'll see you soon — I'll be on the first flight I can catch back to Vale, I promise."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but bit his tongue. "I'll be waiting for you firecracker. Be safe!"

With her own watery smile, Yang shut down the connection and wiped her eyes dry.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think - especially about that scene. Don't worry, I'm not heading down a smut route or anything, and this shouldn't become a common occurrence. Just felt like it was necessary, this time, that we get a window into those events.

I am sure it's aggravating reading knowing everything we do, but hope you managed to enjoy anyway :)

Special thanks to collateraldamage for his feedback on this chapter :)

Also someone just pointed out that I published this chapter a day early by accident - enjoy it i guess!

I am shooting to have the next chapter by the 1st of November and continue with 2 a month, but I'm not fully sure how my job will affect my schedule atm. Expect November 15, and you will be pleasantly surprised if it comes on the first as I intend for it to.