Chapter 46: Lessons
'Another theory popular amongst those who do not pursue a career in academia is that the Ruby Order was originally from Braavos. Anyone looking at the sources, or applying the slightest shred of critical thinking, will immediately perceive the lack of any sources supporting this notion. Its proponents claim that the Iron Bank's reluctance to interfere in the Succession would be proof that they were actually interfering through the Ruby Order, and that the Ruby Order's remarkable feats at diplomacy and politics were due to generous bribes from the Iron Bank's coffers. Some even go so far as to ignore every reliable source and claim they were Braavosi courtesans who used their allure to further the bank's interests. Of course, as was demonstrated already, such claims were originally fabricated by their detractors in a transparent and ultimately doomed attempt to damage their reputation. That they were wearing clothes that were, for the era in question, daring does not change that, since none of the more fantastic depictions of their attire matches any of the contemporary Braavosi fashions of the time, which are well-documented thanks to Alfonso Mitrogue's diligent work. And that their famous challenge of the House of Black and White supposedly was a double-bluff organised by said organisation is obviously utterly implausible, as anyone familiar with the Faceless Men's reputation and modus operandi can attest to.'
A Treatise On The Ruby Order, by Maester Kennet Bracken
*****
Empty Manse, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
A cutpurse studied the building in front of him. It was a 'manse' - a townhouse, but surrounded by a garden and a forest. Thick walls, ivy covering some of them. A cutpurse could have climbed them and broken into the building. Just as a cutpurse could have climbed over the wall surrounding the small estate in King's Landing. But that had not been necessary. Everyone who wanted to come had been invited into the garden.
And the garden was packed. Men. Women. Children. Nobles. Smallfolk. The rich and powerful had stands to gather on. The poor and weak, and those posing as either, simply stood on the lawn that was turning into mud with every new step. Next to a heap of sand. Wet sand. People were so close, a cutpurse could have cut a dozen purses without anyone noticing even a hint of the blade.
But a cutpurse wasn't here to steal. A cutpurse was here to watch. To watch the four girls who challenged death. They were standing on the other side of the fence that held the crowd back. In front of the manse's entrance.
A cutpurse stretched his neck, as others did, to peer at the girls who had threatened death and his blades.
Red held her scythe in one hand, gesturing with it as she talked to the others. A cutpurse could not have done the same - not unless the scythe were false, a mummer's prop instead of a weapon.
White, who was nodding at her, Valyrian locks bound in a ponytail swaying in the wind, wore boots made for riding, not walking, yet she stood easily on them. A cutpurse could not have done that, either. The heels would have sunk into the soft ground. White must be even lighter than she looked. But a cutpurse could have wielded her blade. Easily. Slim and sharp, built to slide between a man's ribs to pierce a man's heart.
Black, wearing riding boots as well, was looking around, walking in a slow gait that could not hide her grace and strength from a cutpurse's eyes. Her blade was sheathed, yet the sheath was a blade as well - and both were from Yi Ti, even if she did not look it.
Yellow stood, a grin betraying her confidence, her muscles' tension betraying her intent, hands and lower arms covered in gauntlets. She lacked a blade, or any other weapon, yet was deadly all the same. Deadlier than a cutpurse, or so she thought.
But death came for everyone. No matter how strong they were. No matter how much power they wielded. No one could refuse the Stranger's gift.
A cutpurse watched the others. Knights in name, yet followers in heart. The one who had killed a man with his wolf. The fair-haired one, still a boy, unbloodied. The smith, untrained and untested. And the woman with the strength and looks of a man. Not many words from them. Nor much confidence. Death could claim them easily.
"Alright!" Red spoke up. Confident and nervous. Yet no fear. "Welcome, everyone, to our demonstration! I hope all the Faceless Men in the city are here, we're doing this for you! To show you who we are! What we can do! To show you what will happen to you if you keep this on!"
A cutpurse did not cheer since neither did the crowd. But a cutpurse applauded, with the other smallfolk, and listened and watched.
"We'll show you how Team Ruby fights!"
Red turned, scythe raised, ready to reap lives or leaves, and faced the manse's entrance.
Then red petals replaced a red girl, and a red cloud flew over the ground.
Then a sturdy door, almost a gate, fell apart, cut many times, and Red appeared in its place, scythe twirling as if it were a mummer's baton.
A cutpurse saw Red's speed and strength.
The scythe was stopped, blade pointing sideways - at the wall. And Red dashed to the side, dragging her scythe with her. And the blade cut the stone as easily as it would cut stalks.
A cutpurse saw stone parting and walls trembling.
Red stopped, scythe twirling once more, then turned.
And a blade flew, and stone was ground to dust by cut after cut.
A cutpurse cheered, as did the crowd, while watching and listening as Red returned to the others.
White raised her blade, and magic happened. Glowing, giant snowflakes appeared, directed by White's blade, gathering in front of her. Then White jumped. And bounced, snowflakes shattering as she travelled, back and forth, until none were left, and a white lightning struck - and the wall still whole disappeared in a cloud of dust that hid the manse entirely.
A cutpurse watched as White stepped out of the cloud. Not a hair out of place, not a speck of dust on her. Not a scratch on her blade.
Black vanished - and reappeared on the roof. Many times. Blades were drawn, sheaths cleaved. A roof vanished under a hundred cuts and blows, and a girl jumped, swinging on a ribbon which ripped through a tower when it was pulled.
A cutpurse watched as she landed, balanced as a cat, sheathing her blade with a move smoother than the finest silk.
"Hah!"
Yellow launched herself forward. Like a shot from a scorpion. Head hit stone - and stone broke. And broke again as a girl emerged on the other side.
A cutpurse watched as a girl went through the walls, through the manse, as a dagger went through flesh, leaving holes and shattered rooms.
And a cutpurse could not see any magic.
"Weiss!" Red called out.
More snowflakes appeared. A pattern was formed. Stairs were climbed, high above the ground. Girls jumped, and a building was struck four times, tower and roof collapsing. Dust rose.
And green light flickered.
A cutpurse watched as green flames rose through dust. A crowd gasped as the fire roared.
And four girls stepped out of the fire - through still-standing walls that crumbled before them. Untouched. Flames rose around them. Fire burned on them. But no flames blackened their skin. And clothes burnt. No hair stained with soot and ash as the green fire slowly died.
A cutpurse stared as a crowd cheered. This fire burnt everything. And yet, it didn't burn the girls.
Red vanished once again. Weiss created more sigils. Sand rose in a whirlwind. And an unquenchable fire was smothered as Red, White, Black and Yellow reunited in front of the crowd.
Guards stepped forward. Weapons were held.
Then Red raised her scythe. Arrows were drawn. Bows were raised. Arrows were loosened. And arrow tips shattered on bare skin. Blades cut wood and shattered on bare skin. Hammers smashed stone, yet were smashed on heads.
The crowd cheered.
The ground was punched. The Earth trembled. A cutpurse felt it as the crowd cheered again.
Later, a cutpurse stepped into a dark alley, a face vanished, and a man emerged.
A man with a mission.
*****
Fleabottom, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
A man approached a ramshackle building in the poorest part of the city. The eyes of a pair of thieves fell upon him, but the man was not worth their attention. A man walked on undisturbed, and a pair of thieves lived on.
A man knocked. Twice, then once again, then once more. Then a door was opened, and a man vanished from the alley.
Inside, a house owner was sitting, holding a bread roll. "You saw."
A man nodded. "I did." A man had watched. Closely.
"Not a mummer's farce."
"No." A man had been a mummer more than once. A man would know.
"The price was paid."
"For a girl." A man knew the difference.
"All men must die."
A man shook his head. "All men must serve."
"All men must die."
"All men must serve." A man had seen the signs. A man had read the scrolls.
A house owner stared at a man. A handle was gripped. A man waited.
A house owner turned away. A handle was released. A man sat down.
All men must serve. A man was a man. And a man knew death.
A house owner did not. But a house owner would.
Death would reach a house owner. Death would teach a house owner.
A man listened. A door closed. A man had to write. A passage had to be paid. A message had to be sent.
A man stood and entered a room. A face was taken.
And a sailor stepped out.
The harbour waited.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Stop pacing, Ruby! Show some patience!"
Ruby Rose frowned at her partner. She was being patient! She hadn't thought that their demonstration would result in a Faceless Man coming up to them, taking his mask off (Ew! Ew! And EW!) and announcing that they would never try to hurt Team RWBY or any of their friends ever again. That wasn't how things worked. Only a fool would expect immediate results, and Ruby wasn't a fool (certain events her treacherous sister liked to bring up to contest this claim notwithstanding, as Weiss would say).
However, she didn't think it was foolish to expect an answer - or, at least, a reaction - after a day or two. That was enough time to carefully consider the issue. Which would result in whoever those people were realising that Team RWBY was genuine and not trying to fool them. And once they did, they would also realise that they had to answer their letter.
So, Ruby wasn't childish or impatient. She could perfectly wait a few more days. Or even longer.
"I am."
"Really." Weiss was frowning at her over the book she was reading - something about the Iron Bank.
Ruby pouted. Her partner could do with a bit more trust in her patience. "I am patient," she said. "It's just that the longer it takes for the Faceless Men to react, the greater is the risk that they will be stupid about it."
"They might have already sent word to Braavos and are waiting for instructions," Weiss said.
"That could take weeks!" Ruby blurted out. Weeks of waiting, watching your back - and the back of your friends!
Weiss raised her eyebrows. "Do you expect them to send us a notice that assassination attempts are on hold for the next four weeks pending new instructions?" she asked with that tone that told Ruby her partner thought that she was being stupid.
"Of course not!" she replied. "But it would be nice. And pragmatic. They should be worried about us hunting them, and that might make us stop."
"Stopping our attempts to track down those assassins would require us to trust their word," Weiss pointed out.
"At least it would be an excuse for failing to find them," Ruby shot back as she sat down on the bed. She missed her bunk bed. This bed was far larger - large enough for two people to sleep without accidentally bumping against each other in their sleep - but it didn't really feel like her own bed unless she was really tired. A bit too soft, and the blankets were a bit too scratchy. And in her own bed, she didn't have to worry about her partner accusing her of being a blanket hog. (Which was slander! Ruby only took her fair share of the blanket!)
"We don't really need excuses. Not after our demonstration," Weiss said. "We drew a line, and if they cross it, we'll take action."
"We'll be forced to take action," Ruby said. She didn't want to travel and demolish a temple. Or kill people. She would, if she had to, of course. But she'd prefer not to. She just wanted to go home to her family. To her friends. To Beacon. "Do you think they'll react?"
"I am certain. The question is whether they will be wise and stop attacking us - or if they will react violently and double down on their attempts to hurt us," Weiss said as she finished brushing her hair.
Ruby held her hand out, and Weiss dropped the brush in it. She ran the brush through her own hair. It was getting a bit long - she'd have to get it trimmed by Yang again. Her sister wasn't the best hairstylist, but she was better than the locals - they didn't know how to cut short hair. Not so it looked good. Although… Maybe if they started a new fashion trend, that would change, and they would learn?
No, she couldn't just change local customs just so she could get a haircut from a hairdresser… Even if she probably could, if she wanted. But she wouldn't, because that would be selfish. She was better than that. Huntresses didn't abuse their power, and she was a huntress.
*****
Order Headquarters, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"No, there haven't been any attacks, or even suspicious visitors, my lady."
Ruby suppressed a sigh at Lancel's report. It was a good thing that no one had tried to sneak into the Order's headquarters - or tried to attack them, which would have been even worse. But that didn't mean that it was all good. That made it four days since the demonstration, and nothing had happened. "Maybe we should let Ghost scour the city for Faceless Men," she muttered. "He could sniff them out."
"I am not sure he could, actually," Jon said. "The city is far too large for him to patrol. And we don't know what set him off - if it was the blood, or some magic scent, then the Faceless Men would hide just using their own faces."
"Or hide inside a house. We can't go through people's homes," Weiss added.
Ruby rolled her eyes. "I wasn't serious, guys! Just a bit frustrated." There should have been a reaction by now! A message, an attack, anything!
"Everyone, I've added the bars to the windows in the back," Gendry announced as he entered what had become the main room of the headquarters. "The ground level should be safe from intruders now."
"Just ensure that the secret passages are accessible," Blake said. "Or this could turn into a death trap if someone sets fire to the building.
"But you trained us to climb and jump down in armour, my lady!" Lancel protested.
"If someone sets fire to the building, they'll be covering the exits," Brienne said. "They would be ready to ambush us."
"Then we'd fight," Lancel replied.
"Unless you sleep in armour, you'd do it in your sleepwear and likely while coughing your lungs out from all the smoke you inhaled," Blake retorted. "Not the best shape to fight off an ambush."
Ruby hoped she wasn't speaking from experience - from either side. But it was good advice either way. "Yeah. If someone ambushes you, if you can, get away and get help. Beating the ambush is the second-best plan."
Both Lancel and Jon frowned at that. And Brienne didn't look that happy about it either. Only Gendry nodded. Ruby shook her head. "Well, let's train hard so we won't have trouble either way." She quickly recalled the schedule. "Tomorrow - today we've got mounted combat training."
And they couldn't change that; Ser Barristan had volunteered to teach the knights about using lances from horseback. And that was one of the few fighting styles here that no member of Team RWBY had any experience with. None of them could even ride at all. Well, they could stay on top of a horse, bucking or not, and if the horse was not being stupid, could even guide it somewhat. But that was far cry from fighting in the saddle.
Not that any member of her team needed it; they were faster than any horse and far more agile as well. Riding into battle would only slow them down (and expose the poor horse to danger!).
But their friends weren't Huntresses, and fighting from horseback granted them an advantage over anyone on foot. Plus, as knights, they were kinda expected to use lances and such, both in tourneys and in battle. So, they had to learn how to do that. Or, in Lancel and Brienne's cases, get better.
They looked happy at the occasion, too. Well, Gendry's smile was faint, but he wasn't really the outgoing type. Extroverts, as her partner called people like Yang. In that, he was very different from his father. Still, he had to learn as well. He'd be a great knight, like the others.
Ruby would make sure of that.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Good morning, Lady Weiss."
"Good morning, Lord Tyrion." Weiss Schnee nodded at the nobleman as the servant who had led her to his quarters closed the door behind her.
She looked around discreetly as she took a seat across from his desk, but she couldn't spot any significant changes. The amount of parchment, both sheets and scrolls, on his desk seemed to have grown a little compared to the time of her last visit, but otherwise, everything seemed the same, from his specially-crafted chair that allowed him to sit at a desk made for someone with average height to the basket with bottles of expensive wine placed on a small pedestal so he could reach it without having to climb down. His goblet with a distinct adornment of jewels - rubies and amber, she noted, his house's colours - was new, but that was no surprise. It did look a bit larger than its predecessor, but that didn't mean anything in a world where standardisation was only practised in a naval shipyard in Braavos.
"Wine? Arbor gold, and one of the best vintages."
"No, thank you." Weiss refrained from either rolling her eyes or snorting as she refused. Lord Tyrion always offered her wine even though he was well aware that she'd always refuse; Weiss wouldn't dull her wits with alcohol before any important meeting, and any meeting with Lord Tywin's heir certainly qualified. But that didn't mean she'd be rude about it; Lord Tyrion would likely count making her react as a success. She smiled and nodded at him while she waited for him to speak up.
He didn't try to strain her patience. After a swallow from his cup and a slightly theatrical sigh, he looked straight at her with a lopsided grin. "I've said it before, but it bears repeating: This was a very impressive demonstration you delivered."
Weiss shrugged, once, with carefully curated modesty. "We demolished an old building; it wasn't as if we razed a castle. I wouldn't think it was more impressive than our competition at the Tournament of the Hand."
"Oh, but there, you did not walk through wildfire, my lady. Smashing walls to dust and roofs to kindling is a feat none else might achieve, but jumping into wildfire, and then calmly walking out of the resulting blaze without even being singed?" Lord Tyrion shook his head. "That, my lady, will have terrified every watcher. It certainly made me glad I had relieved myself before attending your demonstration."
"That was the idea," she reminded him. They needed to show the Faceless Men that Team RWBY was immune to their worst attacks and could retaliate with overwhelming power against the single known location the assassins might care about.
His already quite forced smile grew a bit more twisted, and he raised his cup to his lips again. "You were successful, then."
"That remains to be seen," she reminded him. "We have yet to suffer another attempt on our or our friends' lives, but it's been a few days at most."
"I dare say all but the most fanatical of your enemies will have abandoned their plans, my lady." He leaned forward. "As I said, it was a most impressive demonstration of the power you can bring to bear should you choose so."
Weiss replied. "I would not dismiss the danger yet - our enemies have proven that even an almost-assured death might not be enough to keep them from attacking us. Some people simply aren't rational enough to abstain from taking suicidal actions." Especially if they revered a death god. They probably expected to be rewarded when dying in their god's service. The mere thought of such made her scowl.
"If all men - and women, of course - were rational, our world would look far more different, I think." Lord Tyrion took another deep swallow. "We might not recognise it."
Weiss made a vaguely agreeing noise. That was a platitude, and the nobleman knew it. "We have to deal with the world in which we found ourselves, and the people we've met, not the people we would prefer to deal with."
Another twisted grin followed. "Indeed, my lady. Although if your demonstration is enough to scare your enemies straight, then I would call it money well spent on my part." He raised his cup once again.
She nodded. "I thank you again for your generosity. The manse was perfectly suited for our demonstration."
"You certainly made an example out of it."
"We can but hope it will remain the only such example," Weiss said.
"Indeed, my lady." Lord Tyrion nodded at her with a most serious expression, then downed the rest of his wine and immediately refilled his cup despite Weiss's disapproving frown.
Then again, she hadn't expected anything else, she amended her thoughts with a sigh. People didn't stop drinking, no matter how beneficial it would be for them - and for their family.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Thank you for meeting with me, my ladies." Tycho Nestoris, the envoy from the Iron Bank, according to what they had been told when he had requested a meeting, and which Lord Eddard had confirmed, bowed quite deeply, holding one hand on his long, thin beard that almost reached his belt.
Weiss didn't know if his manners were unusual or not. The Iron Bank was one of the most powerful institutions in this world - or this part of the world - and the kingdom owed them literally millions of gold dragons, about as much as they owed Lord Tywin, so as their official envoy, Nestoris represented a power few others could match. On the other hand, he wasn't a noble, and in Westeros, that counted for a lot.
And, Weiss added cynically, when it came down to it, he was still an envoy. Father would generally ensure that no attack on SDC's employees would go unpunished, but only if it made sense from an economic point of view, and Weiss didn't doubt that the Iron Bank had similar policies. It was probably better for Nestoris to be respectful to any noble - and take his revenge for any slight afterwards. His clothes were a display of understatement as well - his shirt was made of purple silk, but mostly hidden by his cloak of the same colour and his beard, and the rest of his outfit showed the same quality. Many nobles were wearing less expensive clothes.
"We're happy to meet you!" Ruby told him with a smile. "And I'm not just saying that - we were hoping to talk to people from Braavos. People in power, I mean, not that we wouldn't talk to other people from Bravos."
"I wouldn't call myself a person in power, my lady - I am merely a humble servant of the Iron Bank of Braavos," Nestoris replied.
It sounded like false modesty to Weiss - she had heard that far too often back home to not be able to spot it - but he also sounded a bit wary. She glanced at Blake, who was staring at the man and probably had spotted that as well, and her friend met her gaze for a moment with a slight nod.
Weiss took that as confirmation and spoke up. "You represent the Iron Bank, Master Nestoris. Anyone who has the slightest grasp of the economies of Westeros and Essos is aware of what power the bank wields. And as its eyes and ears, you can leverage quite a bit of influence over their policies with regard to the realm here." If the bank didn't trust his judgment, he would never have been sent here.
Nestoris chuckled as he bowed his head. "An apt description, my lady. You are well-acquainted with the bank, then."
Had he thought they had no idea about his employer? Or economics in general? Well, Weiss wouldn't fault him for the latter, not after she had realised the extent, or lack thereof, of many nobles' knowledge about basic economy. "We're familiar with similar institutions in our home world," she said.
"Weiss got a bit mad when she realised the poor state of accounting in the realm," Yang added.
She was probably trying to be helpful, but they were dealing with a bank's envoy. They were rarely susceptible to such ploys, in Weiss's experience. Still, impressing on the man that they were not some ignorant warriors would only help with getting what they wanted from this meeting. "Quite," she said. "I was relieved to hear that the Iron Bank is organised far more professionally."
Nestoris blinked before nodding, and Weiss wanted to frown - 'professionally' didn't mean exactly the same here as it did at home. He seemed to have caught her meaning, though. "I see. I must confess, sometimes, I feel a bit frustrated myself because of the state of accounting here."
And now he was trying to claim common ground.
"So… Before we talk about our thing, you asked for a meeting!" Ruby smiled and grabbed a cookie from the plate on the table between them and their guest.
"Yes. The Iron Bank sent me to determine whether or not our loans are still secure after the recent upheavals."
"You mean King Robert's and Prince Joffrey's deaths," Ruby told him with a slight frown, as direct as ever. "And the other deaths."
"Yes. A potentially unstable succession, rival factions, the danger of a war between lords, rumoured embezzlement by the Master of Coin, treason by the Master of Whispers…" Nestorius sighed. "All those things affect a realm's coffers. And we received quite diverse news and reports."
"And you were sent to check if your regular informants were still trustworthy," Weiss said.
Nestoris nodded again. "Indeed. Some of their reports sounded rather… fantastical."
"I trust our demonstration removed such doubts," Weiss said.
"It was most impressive indeed, my ladies." He sounded honest.
"And you want to know where we stand. Or where you stand with us." Ruby took another cookie.
"You are the most powerful faction of the Court by far. You decide who will be king."
He used the present tense, Weiss noted.
"We support Prince Tommen's right to the throne because he is the heir by law," Ruby said.
"As far as I know, some factions might disagree with that stance." Nestoris hesitated a moment. "I have even heard that rumours dare to question the prince's legitimacy."
"They are just that, rumours. We have investigated the matter and found no proof that the prince is the product of incest," Weiss said.
"Hair colour is not evidence," Ruby added.
"Yeah." Yang nodded. "I got Dad's hair colour, but Ruby got Mom's."
"So, we have chosen to uphold the lawful claim." Weiss nodded at the man.
"The claim backed by House Lannister."
"Which holds the other half of the crown's debts, yes." Weiss knew what the man meant. "Despite the problems caused by the late Master of Coins and Master of Whispers, I think the realm will remain stable." Team RWBY would certainly do what they could. Of course, it would help if the small council could finally agree on a new Master of Coin and Master of Whispers, but with Lord Tywin all but threatening to use his loans for leverage if he wasn't happy with a candidate, and everyone else not trusting him - or opposing him in anything out of sheer contrariness and spite - that might take a bit longer. Weiss only wanted to see someone who knew modern accounting at the post.
"As long as you're here."
They had never made a secret out of their plans to return to their world, so it was no surprise that he was aware of it. Nor was he wrong.
"Yes." Ruby nodded. "But we're not going to leave until we're sure our friends are safe."
"Does this include Prince Tommen?"
He didn't mention Princess Myrcella. Of course, in Westeros, only the Dornish allowed daughters to inherit before other male relatives.
"Of course! We're not about to let people kill children just because they want the throne!" Ruby blurted out.
"We have taken steps to ensure that," Weiss added. The first steps, only so far, and they had a long way to go before they would bear fruit, but it was technically true.
"Your knightly order, yes."
Was the man trying to impress them with publicly available knowledge? On the other hand, information was not nearly as easy to acquire here as it was back on Remnant. For someone not used to electronic records and communication, and news reports and newspapers, just keeping on top of things that affected them might be a challenge.
"Yes. And that's why we're glad you're here with us. We have a bit of a problem you might help us with!" Ruby beamed at Nestoris, who suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable.
"You're aware that we want the House of Black and White to stop sending Faceless Men after us and our friends," Weiss said.
"I've heard rumours, yes." He was evasive - they had posted an open letter, so everyone knew it. And he looked more tense than he had during the talk so far.
"You saw our demonstration. And we were very open about it," Weiss retorted.
"Yes. We don't really want to go to Braavos and raze their temple to the ground, though," Ruby said. She was honest about that, and Weiss hoped Nestoris realised it. "But we will if we have to."
"And your entire army can't stop us. Nor can your fleet," Yang added.
"Of course, that would presume that the rumours of every Braavosi obeying the Faceless Men when they request it were true," Weiss said. "Those sound a bit fantastical, to be honest." Really, the Iron Bank bowing to a group of assassins? That would be as absurd as SDC bowing to the White Fang.
"Most rumours are based on a kernel of truth." More evasiveness from Nestoris.
"Yeah. But, as we said, we don't want to do that," Ruby said, making the man turn to look at her once more. "We just want them to stop attacking us and our friends. That's all." She beamed at him. "And since you're the envoy from the Iron Bank, and your bank is a big thing in Braavos, do you think you can tell the Faceless Men there that they should stop coming for us?"
"If they know what's good for them," Yang had to add with a smirk.
"They might not have known what was happening here when they agreed to this contract and might have been tricked by whoever hired them," Blake spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "A contract made under false pretences does not have to be fulfilled."
"Ah…" Nestoris didn't bother to hide his unease. "The House of Black and White is not motivated by money - or, to be more precise, the money they demand is merely a means to an end. They serve the Many-Faced God and claim to merely do his bidding."
A likely excuse, of course. While Father was wrong with his claim that everyone was motivated by selfish desires, usually for more power and wealth, Weiss knew that many, often for understandable reasons, were. The House of Black and White would be a rare exception if they were different.
"And people say we're the messengers of the Seven, which includes the Stranger," Yang said.
"So I have heard, yes." Nestoris was now sweating, Weiss noticed.
Did he take this seriously? Or was he just worried about being in the middle between Team RWBY and the Faceless Men? "We would only ask you to pass our request on to your superiors back at the Iron Bank."
"Could you do that for us?" Ruby smiled sweetly at him.
"A trusted messenger would be great." Yang stretched. "So we don't have to travel there,"
Nestoris's smile told Weiss that he would rather not, but he still nodded in agreement.
Good. That would hopefully help with finally settling this.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Blake Belladonna suppressed a yawn while she cautiously crept forward to the edge of the roof until she could see the courtyard below without being seen - a cover of clouds hid the moon, so there was no risk of being outlined against the sky. It made it a bit harder for herself to see in the darkness, but her eyes could deal with the absence of moonlight much better than a spy or assassin lurking in the shadows could.
Of course, a Faceless Man didn't have to sneak in through tunnels or over walls, not when he could take someone's face and walk inside. Direwolves couldn't be everywhere at once, and just keeping one at the main gate at all times was already a problem - Lord Eddard wanted them to stay with his children for their safety.
And Bran and Arya were a bit too eager to help with the hunt for the Faceless Men to be trusted with staying back and not endangering themselves while their beasts guarded the gate. Sometimes, Blake wondered who was more bloodthirsty, the wolves or their owners.
Movement below caught her attention. Someone was walking through the yard. Someone not carrying a lantern.
That, by itself, wasn't suspicious - some people might be so familiar with the castle, they could forgo a lantern or a candle. Not too many, though. And even those who did might overestimate themselves.
The person below - a man, judging by their figure - wasn't walking, though. They were skulking; Blake could tell - she had done the same often enough. Keeping to the shadows, taking the longer route since it would mean less risk of encountering someone - unless some stupid SDC guard was taking a leak and was too lazy to head to the toilets; that hadn't been one of her prouder moments in the White Fang.
But this? This guy was not a servant fetching something at night on the orders of their superior. Nor was he a guard on patrol - they were always in pairs, at the least, these days. No, this man knew he wasn't supposed to be here.
Though that raised the question of how he had arrived here. There was no entrance to the secret passages in this yard, so he must have come from further away - and the closest entrances that she knew were covered by guards. Of course, Blake knew better than anyone else that you could sneak past a great many guards if you knew what you were doing.
But you couldn't sneak past her. She tracked the man - he was headed to the side entrance that led to the guest wing, not going for the Royal quarters. Good.
Smiling briefly, she slid over the roof and quickly started to scale down the wall. By the time she reached the ground - without making a sound that human ears could hear - the intruder had already entered the building, but she could still hear his steps. Too soft for a guard and too slow for a servant.
Catching up didn't take her long, even slowed down by the need to avoid making any noise. Twice she had to quickly duck into an alcove or around a corner, though, when he checked behind him - the man was good. Which fit the Faceless Men, though Team RWBY had other enemies as well, and the demonstration they had given wouldn't frighten off everyone. In Blake's experience, there was always someone who thought they were too skilled or clever to be caught - or too ignorant to realise the danger.
Still… time to end this as long as she had the element of surprise. When the man approached the door to the stairs leading up to her team's quarters, Blake quickly rushed forward and drew Gambol Shroud.
Her partner would have made a quip, something along the lines of 'fancy meeting you here' or 'Are you lost? Can I help you?', but she wasn't Yang and only laid the blade of her weapon on the man's shoulder, edge facing his throat.
He froze. "Lady Blake, I presume." He didn't whisper, just spoke in a low voice that didn't carry.
He was remarkably calm for someone caught with a blade at his throat while he was trying to assassinate her team.
"When did you spot me?"
Was he really trying to get information out of her now? She looked around. No guards, no witnesses. She stepped up to him and quickly frisked him. No weapons. No vials. Nothing.
"I am unarmed," he confirmed. "I am here to talk. Discreetly."
Oh.
She narrowed her eyes. Of course, anyone would claim that if they were caught. And yet… unless he had been planning to strangle them with a garotte she had missed, or using their own weapons or any handy items against them, why would he not bring a weapon if he meant them harm?
He might be carrying a disease, of course… No. That was a bit too paranoid. And would probably not work anyway.
"Walk slowly," she told him.
"I know how quick you are, my lady."
So, he had seen the demonstration. Ruby would be happy that her plan had worked.
Unless this was a trap. If it was…
Blake clenched her teeth. If it was a trap, she would make sure the man would never threaten her friends again.
*****
"Someone shut down that racket! Klein!"
"Five more minutes, Weiss…"
"Get up, you two! We've got a visitor!"
Unlike her sister and Weiss, Yang Xiao Long wasn't asleep when she heard the knocking on the door - not when her partner was out there, hunting assassins who could change faces as easily as Coco Adel could change looks. So, while the two others were getting up, reaching for their weapons, Yang was already at the door, Ember Celica ready. "Who is it?" she asked. Blake never knocked. She stifled a gasp - had something happened to her?
"It's me, with a prisoner," Yang heard Blake's familiar voice say. She must have knocked so the others would be ready for this instead of asleep.
"Blake! You caught them!" Yang beamed when she opened the door and saw the man held at sword point by Blake. Her partner was the best! She stepped to the side to let them enter.
"You caught a faceless man?" Ruby joined them, Crescent Rose unfolded and ready.
"In a manner of speaking," Blake replied as she followed the man inside.
"What do you mean?" Weiss asked, Myrtenaster pointed at the man.
"I came to talk. Unarmed," the man said.
Yang glanced at Blake, who nodded. "I frisked him. He had no weapons I could find."
Yang looked the man over. He was wearing well-made but not too expensive clothes - the kind a servant in the Red Keep would wear. And he was remarkably calm; neither the weapons pointed at him nor the fact that they all were in their sleepwear seemed to faze him. That would fit a Faceless Man, at least, according to what they had heard, even though he looked very ordinary. In fact… She narrowed her eyes.
"Are you wearing someone's face?" Ruby asked.
He shook his head. "I am here to talk."
"Because of our demonstration? Really?"
"Ruby!" Weiss hissed.
The man nodded. "Yes."
"Yes! My plan worked!" Ruby cheered, briefly pumping her fist.
That didn't faze the man either, and Yang tensed a little. Usually, the locals here were at least a bit weirded out when Ruby acted like this.
Weiss was frowning as well, and Blake cooly watched him, ready to slice him into pieces - Yang could tell from the way she stood, faking a relaxed stance.
"Your demonstration was illuminating." The man nodded with a polite smile as if he were talking about the weather.
It was seriously creeping her out. What would make the guy lose his cool? Did she really want to know?
"So…" Ruby slung her scythe over her shoulder. "You know what we can do. And what we want. And what we don't want. Namely, we want you to stop trying to hurt us and our friends, and we don't want to travel to Braavos to destroy your home."
The man nodded. "Your message was clear."
Ruby shot Weiss a grin, and Weiss frowned at her.
"And will you do it?" Yang asked before the two could restart the argument they'd had while they had written the open letter.
"I will."
Ruby started to smile at him, but Weiss glared. "You will. What about the rest of you?"
"There will be those who disagree."
Great. The order of assassins working for a Death God had… what had Weiss called it? A Schism.
"You mean we will have to deal with more assassins?" Ruby sounded dejected.
"And who controls your organisation? Those who agree or those who disagree with you?" Weiss asked.
"Those who serve."
"Who do they serve? Your god?"
"All men must die. All men must serve."
Yang scowled at him. "We don't like that kind of vague talk. Tell us clearly what you mean!"
"We serve Death. All of us. But we do not agree on what that means about you."
"That's still too vague!" Yang told him.
"You are either Chosen or Pretenders."
She could hear the capital letters in his tone. It was the first time he had actually shown some emotion.
"And who do you think we are?" Blake asked. Of course, she'd get down to the important question right away.
"Your power is genuine. Not a deception."
"You think we're chosen by your god?" Yang asked.
The man nodded.
Ugh. Was he serious? That would make them… super-assassins or something?
Ruby scowled at him - and she was serious about it. Yang could tell. "We aren't assassins!" her sister blurted out.
"You are doing his bidding."
"We haven't assassinated anyone!" Weiss protested. "Anyone we might have killed was either in self-defence or in a legally mandated fight."
"Yes." The man remained as unfazed as he'd been from the start.
Was this a plot? If he was lying about this…But then, would he act so creepily? And so arrogantly?
"So, we will be attacked by rogue members of your organisation," Weiss said. "Whom you have preemptively disavowed as renegade elements of your organisation."
"Yes."
"That seems quite convenient when you are faced with a threat of retaliation against your home base," Weiss went on. "Do you expect us to believe your claims without any proof that this isn't a ploy?"
"No." The man shook his head. "I expect you to demonstrate to them that they are wrong so they'll learn."
"You want us to purge your organisation?" Weiss sounded shocked.
"All men must serve."
"We're not going to kill them for you!" Ruby said.
"They will learn when they fail to kill you."
Yang gritted her teeth. The man was still smiling politely. And he was supposedly one of the saner people in his group. How messed up in the head were the others? Did he really think they were Death's Chosen or whatever?
"How about we go to Braavos and demonstrate that they cannot kill us in your home where everyone else is, instead of waiting for all of you? Just deal with all of those who want to kill us in one go?"
Ruby wasn't serious, Yang knew it. She was just talking out of frustration.
But the man nodded. "That would be ideal."
Oh, for…!
"And how many of you are already in the city?" Blake asked.
"Except for me, only one who disagrees with me. Even after watching your demonstration."
"He saw us and still tries to kill us?" Ruby sounded as incredulous as Yang felt.
The man nodded.
Yang cursed under her breath.
But Ruby stared at him. "If you serve, you'll lead us to him. We won't wait for another attack. This ends as soon as possible! And you will tell us who ordered this attack!"
The man's eyes widened for a moment before he nodded.
"And that's why you're the team leader," Yang whispered with a proud smile.
*****Last edited: Yesterday at 9:53 PM Like