The Princess' Rogue - Chapter 17

(It is highly recommended that you read the Author's Notes below before reading this chapter.)

***


She was excited.

“Papa?”

Today was the day.

Today was the day Mama returned.

And she was so excited.

“Papa?” she repeated.

The moment morning broke, the blanket was flung from her legs and her bare feet thumped against the carpet covered floors as she fled her room. Wearing nothing but a light blue, short sleeved nightie, she ran down the nearly empty hallways of the White Castle, briefly waving to the servants as she zipped past them for her parents’ room.

“Papa? What’s wrong?”

It took only a few seconds to reach her parents’ room, her own bedroom just a few doors down the wing. Upon reaching the massive double doors (massive for a six year old that is), she took a moment to straighten out her nightie, etiquette lessons having been drilled into she was old enough to walk and talk. She may not have been a princess yet, not in the acting and governing sense, but she still had to abide by the lessons of the upper court. Or so she was told.

“Please Papa,” she said, her stomach churning with growing dread. Tears started to pool in the corner of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Deeming herself presentable after a few seconds, she wasted no time in pushing the wooden doors open just wide enough for her to enter and quickly scurried over to her parents’ bed. It had been almost a week since she last saw her mother, the Queen having left to visit her sister in a neighbouring kingdom for her sister’s birthday. But despite promising to return today, on her birthday, the Queen was not here. Instead, the King sat at the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.

“Papa,” she said again, this time daring to tug at the King's sleeve.

That action seemed to do the trick, the older man jolting for a second before his hands pulled back from his face. When that happened, she felt herself go numb, her eyes widening as she took in the tears running down her father’s cheeks. Light blue eyes bordering on grey were puffy and red, the tears in her own eyes finally falling at the sight of the broken man before her. Very rarely did her father show this side of him, so to see it now, meant something really bad had happened.

“Papa,” she said, the knot in her stomach tightening. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“Where’s Mama?”

***

~ Unknown Location. Early Afternoon. ~

Lavender coloured eyes fluttered open for a moment before shutting again. Deeming the world too bright to be awake, Yang grumbled under her breath, moving to roll onto her side only to grunt in pain the moment she lifted her left arm.

“W-What...?” she croaked, opening her eyes again.

Blearily peering down at her body, Yang spied white bandages peeking out from under the sleeveless red shirt she was currently wearing. Paler than her own skin, the wrappings bound the entirety of her bare left shoulder all the way down to her elbow. Yang blinked.

What... the hell?

Furling her brow in confusion, Yang raised her right hand to poke at the dressing, only pausing when a flash of yellow floated down to the grey wool blanket covering her, where her right hand once rested.

“Huh...?” she muttered.

Quickly rubbing her eyes to rid herself of sleep’s lingering haze, Yang grabbed the yellow blemish off the grey blanket and brought it up to her face.

It was a scarf.

Before she could discern anything further about the accessory, a soft whimper sounded next to her, immediately stealing her attention away. Hesitantly turning her gaze to the right, Yang couldn’t but gasp when she spotted the person next to her.

“W-Weiss?” she choked out.

The scarf in Yang's hand slipped through her fingers, silent and forgotten.

“Y-You... You’re…”

Sitting on a chair to the right of Yang's bed, former Princess Weiss Schnee slept soundly, her upper body draped across Yang’s bed next to Yang's right arm. With her head resting on her crossed arms,  Weiss slept facing Yang, her breaths coming out slow and steady. Unlike the last time Yang saw her, Weiss was now adorned in a bright pink, form fitting, long sleeved top. The ex-heiress' hair was also down, the silver tiara which usually held platinum white locks up in its side ponytail nowhere to be seen. A dark grey wool blanket was draped across Weiss’ back and shoulders.

“You’re... alright...” Yang sniffled, tears of relief and joy immediately pooling in the corners of her eyes. Raising her good hand to rest on Weiss' head, Yang gently ran her fingers through Weiss' unbound locks, utterly relishing the contact. So caught up in her slumbering companion, Yang failed to notice the creaking of the door opening.

“I don’t believe it,” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.

Yang flinched in surprise.

“It actually worked.”

Momentarily tearing her gaze away from Weiss, Yang watched as the approaching figure shut the door behind them and walked up to her bedside on her left. A long mane of red swished back and forth behind the person as they moved, Yang’s eyes widening slightly when a fair hand touched her forehead. Emerald coloured eyes gazed briefly at Yang's hand, the one stroking Weiss' head, before raising to look at Yang in the eye.

“Pyr...rha...?” Yang said in bewilderment, her voice cracking from dryness.

Pyrrha smiled at her as she withdrew her hand from Yang's forehead, the redhead picking up the metal canteen from the side table and pressing it to Yang's lips, letting her drink.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Yang,” the other girl said, Pyrrha ever so patient as Yang took her fill of water.

“Thanks,” Yang murmured, once the water ran dry. Her hand never left Weiss' hair.

“You're welcome.”

Setting the now empty canteen down on the small table next to the bed, Pyrrha took a seat on the chair positioned next to Yang’s bedside on the left.

“You don’t know how relieved I am to see you’re awake.”

Taking a moment to look around, Yang's eyes eventually came to rest on Pyrrha's seat. It was a simple, familiar piece of furniture, similar to the one Weiss currently sat on, one made of a dark brown wood with a cream coloured linen seat cushion. It matched the rest of the decor of the room, including the bed and side table, both of which were made from the same wood.

“Where are we?” Yang asked, completely clueless. It felt like she'd been her before, but for the life of her, Yang couldn’t remember why.

Pyrrha smiled, a look of understanding in her eyes.

“You’re in Mistral,” the redhead explained. “In the Juniper Tavern. You’ve been here for over a week now.”

“Oh,” Yang commented, blinking in surprise. Of all the possible possibilities, she wasn't expecting that one.

“That's why this room looks so familiar,” she trailed off, Yang glancing around the room again.

Pyrrha laughed lightly. “Well, considering this is your room whenever you stay here, I would certainly hope it looks familiar. Unless you're already at that age where you start to forget things?”

Yang narrowed her eyes at the smirk stretching across the other girl's lips.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I'm just saying,” Pyrrha said, in almost a sing song tone. “I think I may be seeing some grey on that head of yours.”

Yang's eyes widened in surprise before a cheeky grin spread across her lips. Oh? That's how Pyrrha was going to be, was she? Well, two could play at that game.

“So...” Yang began, that irritating grin still on Pyrrha's face. “Jaune burn down the kitchen while I was away?”

Yang already knew the answer to that question, but she asked it anyways. It was sort of a running joke between them all, Jaune's supposed cooking skills which only ever ended in fire and charcoal. The smirk which Pyrrha originally sported quickly turned into a scowl, the redhead clearly not impressed by that change in topic.

“He’s not that bad you know,” Pyrrha stated, frowning.

Yang raised an eyebrow at the other girl.

Pyrrha lasted all of ten seconds before she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. The redhead wore a similar crimson coloured top to Yang's, except hers was long sleeved.

“He’s been banned from the kitchen until further notice,” Pyrrha mumbled sourly, just loud enough for Yang to hear.

Yang hollered, or rather, she tried to. The moment she did however, pain shot through her bandaged shoulder making her clench her jaw to stifle a yelp. Her free hand clutched at her injury, Yang holding her breath as she fought against the agonizing spikes of pain in her shoulder.

“Yang!” Pyrrha exclaimed. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

With her eyes squeezed shut, Yang did as she was told, slowly but surely releasing the breathe she held. Inhaling slowly, she winced as her shoulder throbbed from that simple action, the fingers of her free hand curling tighter around her bandaged limb.

“Easy now.”

Breathing in slowly again, Yang's eyes opened just as her uninjured hand was peeled from her shoulder. Pyrrha was gentle as she massaged Yang’s sore appendage, Yang quickly finding herself go slack under those ministrations. A relieved sigh escaped her lips as the last of the pain faded away, once tight muscles now relaxed and unwound.

“Better?” Pyrrha asked, pulling her hands back now that her task was done. Yang didn’t miss the lingering touch at the end however, one that was light and wistful.

Yang smiled at the other girl, appreciative. “Yeah. Thanks, Pyrrha.”

Silence fell between the pair as they looked at each other, one that was both familiar and comfortable. In the end it would be Yang who broke eye contact first, her gaze immediately going back to Weiss when familiarity turned to awkwardness. Surprising, the white haired girl still slept on, completely oblivious to the conversation going on next to her, Yang frowning slightly as she continued to watch the ex-heiress sleep. Weiss was always the lighter sleeper between the two of them, so much so, that just the leaves rustling in the wind was often enough to wake her unless she was cuddled up against Yang. So how was it she hadn't awakened by now?

“Don't worry,” Pyrrha said, as if reading Yang's thoughts. “She won't be up for a while.”

Something about Pyrrha's tone when she said that had Yang raising an eyebrow at her.

Apparently realizing how her words sounded, Pyrrha smiled hesitantly, the type of smile she had had in the past when the redhead did something she knew she shouldn't have. Immediately, Yang went into protective mode, something that hadn't happened for years.

“Pyrrha, what did you do?” she almost growled out.

Lavender coloured eyes tinted red, the temperature in the room rising a noticeable few degrees. Without even realizing, Yang’s uninjured hand found Weiss’ arm and held onto it.

Pyrrha’s eyes widened a fraction before she bowed her head in apology.

“I’m sorry!” the other girl exclaimed, Pyrrha clutching at her cream coloured skirt, her eyes squeezed shut. “She just... she hadn't slept for days and looked so exhausted. So I slipped something into her tea earlier to help her sleep.”

Yang stared at her friend quietly for a few seconds, the red in her gaze soon bleeding out.

“That’s it?” Yang asked, after a minute of silence. “You drugged her tea so she could get some shut eye?”

Pyrrha dared a glance upwards. “Yes...?” she answered wearily.

Yang inwardly breathed in relief, any anger she had now completely gone. It was funny how quick she was to jump to Weiss' defense, even with someone she'd known for years. Weeks ago, she could have cared less what happened to the ex-princess. But now...

“Thanks Pyrrha,” Yang said, smiling gratefully. “Thanks for caring for her when I could not.”

Yang turned back to Weiss, looking at her fondly. Out of her line of sight, Pyrrha sat up straight again in her chair, relieved.

“It’s no problem, Yang,” Pyrrha said after a moment. “Really.”

Yang couldn't but smile at those words, truly appreciative to have such an amazing friend like Pyrrha. Very rarely did she make friends in her line of work, and while the friendship she formed with the redhead (along with the rest of the Juniper Tavern team) happened more out of accident, never once did she take her friends for granted. Yang had already learned the hard way, many years ago, many times now, just how fragile and fickle life could be. If you didn't appreciate the things you had when you had them, the sorrow which resulted in having them taken away would be damning.

“So how did I get here exactly?” Yang asked after a moment, not yet meeting Pyrrha’s gaze. Something about watching Weiss sleep was very calming for her.

The rustling of cloth.

“You don’t remember?”

Yang looked back at Pyrrha with furled brows.

“Of course not,” the other girl murmured, more to herself than to Yang. Emerald coloured eyes dropped to Pyrrha’s lap. “You were delirious when you were first brought here.”

Taking a deep breath, Pyrrha met Yang's gaze again. “What you do remember, Yang?”

Yang contemplated that question for a few seconds before she turned away. Without even meaning to, she was staring at Weiss again, her fingers settling in the former princess’ hair once more.

“I remember...”

There was fire. Lots of fire.

And tears.

And the pain of a six year old child losing her mother. But that wasn’t her memory, now was it?

Yang's thumb caressed Weiss' cheek.

“I remember... bits and pieces,” Yang said after a minute and a half of silence. “Nothing solid.”

“I’ll b-be back for y-you, Yang,” a shaking voice said in the dark. “I p-promise. So just hang on and wait for me. Okay?”

Yang turned back to Pyrrha. “So you gonna tell me what happened?”

Pyrrha sighed, running a hand through her bangs.

“You were barely alive when we found you,” Pyrrha said, not meeting Yang's gaze. “Had we found you an hour later, it would have been too late.”

Yang’s eyes widened at that admission, her hand stilling in Weiss’ hair as she let the weight of that statement sink in.

“Ren did everything he could for you,” Pyrrha continued, her voice wavering. “Even resorting to his rare and exotic healing herbs. But even he could do so much. After that, all we could do was wait, and hope you’d recover.”

Yang’s gaze softened as Pyrrha’s hands balled in her lap, her knuckles white. That was a bad habit of the other girl when she was stressed, Yang remembering a few times when Pyrrha ended up with bloody palms after her nails broke through skin.

“The likelihood that you would though, wasn’t very good,” Pyrrha said, her voice cracking at this point. She shook her head.

Yang frowned.

“I’ve seen a lot of things in my lifetime, Yang.” A shaking breath. “But never have I ever seen a poison as bad as that.”

Yang clenched her jaw, her lips pressed into a fine line. To hear this now... was hard. Pyrrha was always the stronger one between them, even after they went their separate ways when things didn't quite work out. To see her now, looking so broken, Yang couldn't but feel guilty about it. The look of despair in Pyrrha's eyes didn’t belong there. Yet it was.

Because of Yang.

“Pyrrha. I-” Yang began. But Pyrrha wasn't finished yet.

“I watched you for days Yang!” Pyrrha exclaimed, the redhead knocking over her chair when she all but jumped to her feet in anger. “Days! I watched and waited, wondering the whole time if you'd ever wake up!”

“Pyrrha-” Yang tried again.

“Even if you did wake up,” Pyrrha pressed on. “The likelihood that you'd remember your name, let alone who you were, was almost nothing! Do you know what it was like, knowing that it was my fault all of this happened!?”

Yang looked at Pyrrha sorrowfully as the redhead righted her chair and stormed over to the window. As much as she wanted to say something, anything to diffuse the situation, Yang didn’t. She couldn’t. Nothing she could possibly say now would be able to fix things. So she stared at the ceiling.

“She never gave up on you, you know.”

Surprised, Yang looked back to her friend. Pyrrha was leaning against the window frame, her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced in Yang’s direction. When their eyes met, Pyrrha looked away again, to the still oblivious third person in the room, before directing her gaze back outside.

“Even when everyone else was starting to lose hope, she never gave up on you.”

Movement to her right had Yang focusing in that direction, shock registering first before a warm smile stretched across her lips. Despite still being very much asleep, Weiss apparently didn’t like being neglected, the white haired girl having inched closer to Yang, her head now pressing firmly against Yang’s still hand. A small pout was also on Weiss' lips, a furled brow making the ex-heiress’ displeasure known.

Yang ran her fingers through Weiss’ hair again, the warmth within blossoming as the former princess’ features softened, that adorable smile now back on her face.

“She really cares for you,” Pyrrha said, breaking Yang out of reverie.

Looking back to the redhead, Yang found Pyrrha staring wistfully at Weiss.

“The way she was looking at you, all this time...” Pyrrha reminisced. “It was the same way you looked at me when we were... well, you know.”

Yang grimaced. “Pyrrha, I-”

“She made that for you,” Pyrrha said, not giving Yang a chance to speak. Pyrrha walked up to Yang’s bedside and sat down again. “For when you woke up.”

Now within arms reach, Pyrrha picked up the forgotten scarf from the blanket and began smoothing it out. Watching as her friend did so, Yang couldn't but marvel at the accessory, now that she could see it in better detail.

One shade darker than her hair, making it more of an orange-yellow than a yellow-yellow colour, the scarf itself was an almost exact replica of Yang’s original scarf. Made of a higher quality material, silk maybe, a spot of white immediately caught Yang’s attention, the small patch taking up one corner of the accessory. No bigger than her thumb and stitched in pearl white thread, a bird with open wings and a long tail occupied the corner of the scarf, its feathers made of fire.

It was a white phoenix.

Yang eyes went wide.

“Weiss... made that? For me...?”

A look of surprise flashed across Pyrrha's face, the redhead nearly dropping the scarf in her hands from shock.

“You're on a first name basis with the Princess?” Pyrrha questioned, her eyebrows raising into her hairline.

Yang froze when she realized her mistake. “I... uh...”

Looking back down at Weiss again, Yang sighed audibly, a weary smile on her face.

“It's… complicated...”

“I… see…” Pyrrha replied hesitantly, turning her attention back to the accessory in her grasp.

Yang silently chided herself for killing the conversation, despite it not being her intention to do so. She shouldn't have been surprise though, Yang supposed, especially considering she was talking to her ex about... well, whatever it was she had with Weiss. With her thoughts back on her slumbering companion, Yang gazed at the ex-princess, noting just how adorable cute Weiss was when she slept.

“I'm sorry, Yang,” Pyrrha said after a minute or two, halting Yang’s thoughts. Yang had almost forgotten Pyrrha was still with them.

Almost.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at the other girl.

“Sorry for what?” Yang asked.

“For giving up on you so quickly,” Pyrrha said, her shoulders sagging forward. Pyrrha stared at the scarf in her hands, her expression one of dejection.

“As the days passed by with no sign of you waking-”

“Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha went silent.

Yang sighed. “Pyrrha, look at me. Please?”

Yang waited until the redhead reluctantly met her gaze before speaking.

“I understand. Really I do,” Yang began. “And I don't blame you for it. Considering what happened to-”

“But Yang-” Pyrrha protested.

“Pyrrha.”

Yang loved Pyrrha. She really did. Even after all this time, even when things hadn't gone the way she wanted them to originally, Yang still loved the other girl now turned tavern owner, amongst other things. But it was a different sort of love now. Now that she had had some time to explore the world and figure some things out, Yang finally understood the things she could not before.

“You're a really good friend. You know that?”

Unable to reach over and hold the girl's hand, Yang gave Pyrrha a grateful smile instead.

“Stop being so hard on yourself,” Yang continued. “You're allowed to make mistakes. They happen sometimes, you know? I mean, look at me. I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, and probably wouldn’t be here now had you not saved my ass all those times.”

Pyrrha chuckled at that remark, the redhead smirking as she spoke. “You do have a fine ass, Yang. It would have been a crime not to save that.”

Yang mirrored Pyrrha's chuckle, ever so mindful of her shoulder. There was the playful girl she knew.

“Oh? I see how it is,” Yang said, once she got over her initial giggles. “You only loved me for my ass, didn’t you?”

Smiling, Pyrrha reached over and gently held Yang arm under the bandages. “Maybe,” the redhead said, looking at Yang fondly. Pyrrha’s thumb stroked Yang’s wrist.

They may not have been together anymore, but even so, nothing would stop them from being close friends.

Yang smiled, reaching over with her good hand to rest on top of Pyrrha’s.

“Well, I really can't fault you for that,” she commented, earning her another laugh from the tavern owner. “I do have a nice ass after all.”

Hearty laughter once again filled the room, it only stopping when the slumbering Weiss muttered something unintelligible in her sleep, the white haired girl once again shifting closer to Yang. As if guilty for being caught in that position, Pyrrha quickly pulled back her hand, Yang smiling in exasperation at that action.

“She’s a bit possessive, isn’t she?” Yang commented jokingly.

“I was the same back then, was I not?” Pyrrha said smiling, the redhead showing there was no hard feelings between them.

“You were,” Yang said, smirking as she thought back to old times. “I really loved it when you went all rawr over me.”

Pyrrha blushed fiercely when Yang winked at her, evidently also remembering the times Yang was referring to.

“Does Jauney boy know about that side of you?” she asked, Yang's smile turning into a full blown shit eating grin. “Does he like it when you go all hot and bothered for him between the sheets?”

If Pyrrha was red before, now she was scarlet.

“Y-Yang!” Pyrrha stuttered, covering her face with her hands. The scarf Weiss made fluttered down to Pyrrha's lap.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“You know it,” Yang replied with another wink.

Carefully stretching her stiff shoulders while Pyrrha recovered her dignity, Yang’s gaze shifted to the side when the splotch of yellow caught her attention.

“Pyrrha, could you...?” Yang said, motioning to the forgotten scarf.

Pyrrha pulled her hands away from her face and looked down at the accessory in confusion. A few seconds later, recognition dawned in her eyes and she smiled.

“Of course.”

Tilting her head forward as far as she could without aggravating her wound, a wave of nostalgia washed over Yang as Pyrrha loosely tied the scarf around her neck. Once the securing knot was fastened and Pyrrha's hands retracted, she lay back into her pillow again, Yang marvelling at the silkiness now warming her neck.

“How does it feel?” Pyrrha asked.

Yang raised her uninjured hand to touch the yellow material. “It feels...”

Unlike her original scarf, this one felt... different. While it was true that her original scarf and this scarf were made out of different materials, that was not the difference Yang was noticing. No, the difference Yang was feeling was... probably just in her head. This scarf felt lighter than her original scarf because of one thing.

Purpose.

A scarf was a scarf, no matter what material it was made out of. But a scarf's purpose? Well, that was different between scarf to scarf. Weiss' scarf was not meant to hide Yang. If it was, the ex-heiress wouldn't have put so much effort into making it. If it was truly supposed to hide her, like her original one did, it would have been boring and plain and ugly. But it was not.

Weiss' scarf was not boring. It was not plain. And it was the furthest thing from ugly. It was vibrant. It was exquisite. It was beautiful. This was a scarf meant to highlight her. It was meant to make her stand out. It was a scarf which accepted Yang for who she was, and not for who she pretended to be.  

Yes.

That was the difference Yang decided.

She was not pretending to be someone else with this scarf. Now she was just being herself.

“It’s perfect,” Yang said, turning her gaze back to the sleeping Weiss at her side.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Pyrrha said, shifting slightly in her chair. “The Princess worked day and night on it the whole time she was here, barely sleeping or eating. She only managed to finish it last night.”

Yang’s free hand returned to Weiss’ hair, Yang wondering just how soft those platinum white locks were. As soft as the scarf around her neck at least.

“I never knew she could sew,” Yang said softly.

“A part of me thinks it was the only way she could keep herself sane while you slept,” Pyrrha commented, the redhead smoothing out her skirt. “Gods only know what I would have done had that actually been me in her shoes.”

Yang said nothing to that, her gaze never leaving her sleeping companion as she slowly stroking Weiss’ hair.

“Say Pyrrha?” Yang started, hesitant. “Do the others know? You know... that Weiss is...”

Lavender coloured eyes reluctantly drifted back to the tavern owner.

Pyrrha gave Yang a sympathetic pat on her blanketed leg.

“Ren had his suspicions,” Pyrrha stated. “But neither he nor Nora really knew until we told them. As for Jaune and myself... well, you know. You don’t get as good as we are in the information trade without learning a few... secrets. Tavern work isn’t all that bad, but selling ale doesn’t make a man rich.”

Yang nodded in response. Before she became a rogue, Yang had tried her hand at a variety of positions, including working the bar. Needless to say, it didn't turn out all that well.

“Don’t fret,” Pyrrha assured her. “None of us will say anything. You’re practically family to us.”

Another reassuring pat.

“Family, huh?” Yang said softly, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes moved back to the slumbering Schnee on her right.

“Thanks Pyrrha,” Yang said, feeling humbled. “You know, for the whole not telling anyone thing, thing. And saying I'm family. It means a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me too, Yang.”

Ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks, Yang rolled her eyes playfully. “Flatterer.”

Pyrrha just smiled. “I try.”

Yang returned Pyrrha's smile, only for it to fade after a few seconds.

“Say Pyrrha?” Yang questioned, certain thoughts floating around her mind.

“Hmm?” the redhead hummed, leaning forward a bit in her chair.

“There's something that I've been wondering since I woke up.”

Pyrrha blinked. “What is it, Yang?”

Yang pursed her lips for a moment before speaking.

“How did she find you guys?” she asked, looking back to the redhead.

Pyrrha crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair, deep in thought.

“Even now,” Pyrrha said, her gaze downwards and distant. “I’m still not sure how to answer that question.”

Yang looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Pyrrha took a deep breath before turning her gaze back to Yang.

“The night she found us,” Pyrrha began. “It was pouring out. And when I say pouring out, I mean it was raining so hard you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face unless it was touching it.”

Yang glanced back at Weiss.

“The last of our patrons had just left for the night and we were in the process of closing up the tavern, when suddenly, in bursts this girl half covered in blood, soaked to the bone, with her clothes all torn up. At first glance, I thought she’d been attacked by some wild animal. Then I noticed the shard of ice in her hand, as long as her arm and half as thick, the tip of it stained with the same black blood which covered most of her clothes.”

Pyrrha chuckled.

“Knowing me, I’m sure you can imagine what my reaction to that was.”

Yang’s eyes were wide at Pyrrha’s words, her jaw slack as the tavern owner continued her recollection.

“Jaune was the first to react, immediately rushing to her side. He must have spooked her though, for one minute he was running towards her, and in the next, there was a flash of white and he was flipping head over heels in the air away from her.”

Yang winced sympathetically.

“Oh don’t worry,” Pyrrha said with a laugh. “He's just grand now. Aside from a bruised ego, my husband suffered no lasting injuries. The same could be said about Ren, he too not fairing much better. Only his quick reflexes saved him from taking out half our stock when he went flying into the bar. In the end, it was Nora who managed to calm the princess down long enough for her to explain the situation.”

Yang gawked at Pyrrha, not sure whether she should have been surprised, happy or angry about hearing all this. Maybe all three.

“That's...” Yang started, shaking her head in disbelief. “That's crazy! When I first unlocked her Aura, all I thought-Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Did you just say, Nora?”

“I did,” Pyrrha replied, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Nora?” Yang repeated. “The same Nora who broke the drunkard’s legs that one time when he groped her?”

“The one and only,” Pyrrha said with a smile.

Yang stared, and stared, and stared at the redhead.

“You’re joking.”

Pyrrha chuckled for what seemed like the umpteenth time this afternoon, her smile not lessening in the least.

“I assure you, Yang,” the tavern owner said. “I’m not. While I’m not one for violence myself, I’m glad she did it. It’s not easy serving those idiots in the tavern, especially when all they do is stare at your chest.”

Yang gaped at Pyrrha for the better part of a few more seconds before she turned back to Weiss. Well, at least that explained where the neon pink shirt came from.

“Huh,” Yang murmured, flabbergasted.

“Unbelievable, I know.” Pyrrha laughed again. “Even after witnessing it myself, I still have a hard time believing it. Luckily for the both of you, Princess Schnee found us first, and not someone else. I highly doubt things would have turned out the way they did otherwise.”

“Yeah,” Yang said, suddenly feeling more tired now than she was before. It seemed things were finally catching up to her, which was no surprise considering what she had gone through these past few weeks. Yang's fingers continued to comb through Weiss’ soft locks.

“I’m really happy for you, Yang,” Pyrrha said, the redhead relinquishing her chair in favor of leaning across Yang's bed to pull up the blanket on Weiss' shoulders.

Yang looked at her friend in surprise before smiling. “Thanks Pyrrha. Me too.”

“She's something special, that one,” Pyrrha continued, returning to her chair. “It’s not everyday the Princess of Vale bursts into your tavern, wearing scraps for clothing, threatening to toss every damn Grimm in the Emerald Forest at you if you didn't help her save her friend.”

“You’re telling- Wait. What's this now?”

Again, Yang was gawping. Seriously, how many times today was she going to have things repeated because her brain couldn't keep up with her ears?

Pyrrha smiled at Yang, almost laughing. “Her words exactly.”

“Seriously?”

Pyrrha nodded.

Yang stared at Pyrrha blankly for a few seconds before she sighed in exasperation.

“I’ve created a monster,” she said, sinking back into her bed.

“Oh? ” Pyrrha said, her eyes filled with mirth. “So you’re to blame for that are you? Now it all makes sense.”

Pyrrha rested a hand on her cheek and sighed heavily. She stared at the floor lost in thought.

“Huh? What now?” Yang queried, clearly not following the redhead's line of thought. She followed Pyrrha's gaze but didn't notice anything different with the floor.

“Oh, just the princess feeding you medicine through a kiss,” Pyrrha said, another exasperated sigh escaping her.

Yang opened her mouth to say something, but froze when her brain finally processed the tavern owner's words.

“She...” Yang started, swallowing dryly. Her free hand raised to her lips, her fingertips ghosting across them.

“She did what?” Yang almost squawked.

Lavender coloured eyes immediately darted back to Weiss, Yang's cheeks burning hot. The thought of Weiss kissing her... intentionally... Oh boy. Yang wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“As I said before,” Pyrrha said, her gaze soft. “She’s something special.”

Inhaling deeply, Yang sighed again, smiling.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her eyes drifting back to the sleeping girl. Her fingers curled in Weiss’ hair once more, Yang very much loving the feel of former heiress' hair.

“She is.”

A gentle wind blew through the window, sending the half drawn curtains flapping. Listening to her companion's soft breaths, Yang couldn't but wonder what Weiss was experiencing as she explored the dream world. Was it possible that Weiss was dreaming of her, like the way Yang had of Weiss so many times before? Did Weiss really like her in the way Pyrrha said?

“What are you going to do now, Yang?” Pyrrha asked, breaking the silence between them.

For the longest time Yang said nothing. Watching Weiss breathe, her thoughts circled and circled and circled again. What was she going to do? Hauling Weiss in for the bounty was out of the question. And if what that deranged Cinder woman had said was true, so many things had changed at this point. So what was she to do? Pretend all of that never happened?

“Pyrrha, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Yang,” Pyrrha replied. “You know you can ask me anything.”

Yang pursed her lips together tightly. “How bad are things out there? You know, with the bounty on my head and Princess Schnee’s supposed death by my hands?”

“How did you-” Pyrrha began.

“We were attacked by bounty hunters in the forest,” Yang explained, careful to leave out a few key details. “They were rather talkative before trying to kill us.”

“Ah,” came the sound of understanding from the tavern owner. Pyrrha looked away for a moment to collect her thoughts. She turned back to Yang smiling wearily after a few seconds.

“Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“There’s actually good news?” Yang asked, her eyebrows raising.

“There is,” Pyrrha replied.

Yang swallowed thickly.

“I guess I’ll take the good news first then,” she said.

“Well,” Pyrrha started. “The good news is, no one knows your true identity. Everyone is looking for Phoenix. Not Yang Xiao Long.”

Yang blinked. “What?”

“Your true identity is safe, Yang,” Pyrrha clarified, after seeing Yang's confusion. “No one knows who you really are.”

“But...” Yang began, her thoughts immediately going to a very particular trio, a man with a pair of twins favoring red and white.

“That can't be right...” Yang muttered to under her breath.

“Yang?” Pyrrha questioned.

“It's nothing,” Yang said quickly, the frown never leaving her face. “Don't worry about it.”

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, evidently not believing Yang, but she did not push the matter.

“And the bad news?” Yang asked, eager to change the subject.

Pyrrha sighed deeply before answering.

“There's not one corner in the entire kingdom which doesn't have a bounty poster up for Phoenix,” Pyrrha said. “And every day, more and more bounty hunters pour into the kingdom, in the hopes of making it big by bringing you in. Dead or alive.”

A pause.

“Though, from what I’ve been hearing lately,” Pyrrha continued. “It seems the King would rather you be dead than alive.”

Yang hummed.

“Just how big of a bounty are we talking here?” she queried.

Pyrrha took another moment again before replying.

“One hundred thousand lien,” the redhead eventually said.

Yang stared at Pyrrha for a full minute.

“Huh...” she said, releasing the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“I'm sorry,” Pyrrha said. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“That’s an understatement,” Yang said, almost snorting. “Save the princess, you said. Collect the bounty, you said. Live the rest of your life without a care in the world, you said! Where did the whole get accused for a murder you didn't commit resulting in a bounty on your head worth your weight in lien come in!?”

Pyrrha winced at Yang's tone, giving her an apologetic look.

“To be fair,” Pyrrha said. “The information we had at the time all pointed to the Princess simply running away from home and not this whole... other mess.”

Yang sighed deeply, rubbing her face with her hand. “I know, Pyrrha, I know.”

Another sigh.

“Sorry for yelling,” she said, Yang chewing on her lip. “It's just that...”

“Letting the chips fall where they may wasn't the best idea this time?” Pyrrha offered, her head tilted to the side as she looked at Yang.

“Yeah,” Yang said with a chuckle. Pyrrha knew her too well.

“The next time another big bounty like this comes up, remind me not to take it. Ten thousand lien is not worth weeks of attempts on my life.”

Yang chuckled again.

“Yang?” Pyrrha questioned, giving Yang a look she didn’t quite know what to make of. “What are you talking about? It’s been six months since I last spoke you.”

“Six months?” Yang echoed, her brows scrunching. “I was only gone for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Pyrrha echoed, confused. “Yang, it's the end of Fall. Winter is nearly here.”

Yang’s mind went blank.

“W-What?” she said when she regained some semblance of speech. “What are you talking about?”

That couldn’t be right. What Pyrrha was saying couldn’t be right. The redhead was joking. Yes, that had to be it. It was a prank, Pyrrha getting back at her for teasing her before.

“Yang,” Pyrrha repeated. “The last time I saw to you was Aprillis. We’re now in Octius.”

“No...” Yang said, shaking her head. “That's not possible.”

Looking past Pyrrha for the window, Yang watched as a soft breeze fluttered the curtains again. Only now did she notice the cooler temperature, something not fitting for spring. But that couldn't be right. Was she just imagining things?

“I swear! I stopped by here just a couple of weeks ago!”

Pyrrha pursed her lips together, frowning as she looked to the side.

“They say time moves differently in the Emerald Forest,” the tavern owner said after a moment. “Many travellers who were brave enough to traverse it often reported having spent less time in the forest than they actually thought. Maybe the same has happened to you?”

“But how can that be…” Yang said, still in disbelief over this all.

“I don’t know, Yang” Pyrrha told her. “I wish I had a better explanation for you.”

Yang sank back into her bed, staring at the ceiling but not really looking at it.

“Can you guys still make a person... ‘disappear’?” Yang asked after a moment. She didn't meet Pyrrha's gaze.

“Jaune’s working on that as we speak,” the redhead informed her, relief in her tone. “By the end of the day, you’ll have a new-“

“It’s not for me.”

Pyrrha went silent before she got her wits about her. “Pardon?”

Yang raised her gaze to meet Pyrrha’s.

“It’s not for me,” Yang repeated, a seriousness to her voice.

Pyrrha looked absolutely baffled at her reaction. “If it’s not for you, who is it for?”

Yang looked at the still sleeping Weiss next to her.

Pyrrha pursed her lips together in a fine line. “If that’s what you want,” the other girl said.

A pause.

“But what about you?”

To that question, Yang gave Pyrrha a bitter smile.

“I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago,” Yang said, her eyes drifting back Weiss again.

Pyrrha shifted in her chair, before speaking up again.

“What’s that?” the tavern owner asked, concern in her voice.

Yang met Pyrrha’s worried gaze.

“Stop running,” was all she said.