Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Qrow watched in horror as Clover fell over the cliff. 

All the color drained from Qrow’s face. 

The one thing that he had going for him had just plummeted to his death at the bottom of the cliff, where the rocky riverside lay below.. 

They had nearly made it to Vale.

He was going to sponsor him when he asked for asylum. 

They were going to finally be free to live normal lives. 

Together. 

They had made plans. 

It was…all gone.

Qrow fell to his knees and screamed. Chilling. Blood curdling. Mournful.

The bandits were all shocked at his response. They had all taken a step back. 

As the anger began to boil, all Qrow could see was red. 

He reached for Harbinger, clicked the button and as the scythe roared to life, so did Qrow, in a blinding rage. 

He took each one of the bandits down, killing without thought. And when there was no one left to fight and blood was everywhere, he dropped Harbinger, hands shaking, as he recognized the blood on his hands. 

It was happening all over again. 

His memories of his time as a teenager flooded his mind. There was the village where he had attended the local school and made friends. His friends, Tai and Summer, had actually cared for him and took him in, treating him like family. Real family. Hell, even Raven had gotten a bit jealous of the way that they had treated him. So much so that she invited herself along on a few of their escapades. Turns out, they treated her like a human too and she eventually admitted to liking them, albeit, reluctantly.

But for Qrow, it was the most fun that he had in his whole life. 

Then the tribe decided to pillage what they could and cut their losses, as they had done before, Qrow was beside himself. 

His friends had asked him to fight back and he agreed, turning his back on the tribe. What had they done for him anyway? Beat him. Make fun of him. Mock him. Shun him. Tai, Summer and their families were special to him. They cared about him.

As they fought together, a few of the tribe members took it personally. They went after Summer, Tai and their families. One of the tribe members got ahold of Summer’s great aunt and blinded her. The scream that Maria let out and the following screams of all of her family, including Summer, were sounds that he never wanted to hear again. 

More and more of the tribe members got a hold of both Tai and Summer’s family. It was like they were torturing him, as they injured and killed them, regardless if they were armed or not. 

Qrow lost his mind and turned towards his boiling rage, transformed Harbinger into scythe form. and used it for the first time in front of the tribe. He attacked and killed members of his own clan. He was unstoppable, as he chased after the bandits that dared to choose to hurt his adopted family. No. It was more than that to him. They were family now. The tribe was not.

Summer and Tai finally pulled him out of it. But only just barely without hurting them in the process. He would not have wanted to live if he had severely injured one of them or worse.

But the blood had been everywhere. 

He could do nothing about it. 

He froze.

The next thing he knew Tai and Summer were escorting him to somewhere. He didn’t remember where but he remembered the ceiling and the warm fireplace that cracked in its hearth. He remembered the smell of good food. But then he was surprised when suddenly Summer walked in and started talking, Tai right on her heels. It was surreal. Did this actually happen? He wasn’t sure. So he let it progress.

“Finally awake, sleepy head?” Summer asked. 

“‘Bout time.” Tai added.

“I feel…strange.” Qrow told them.

“Yeah. The healer said you would.” Summer explained, “But it will pass.”

“You were quite a site to see.” Tai commented.

“I was?” Qrow asked. Summer and Tai looked at each other.

“What do you remember?” Summer asked.

“Agreeing to fight with you. The tribe attacking and killing y-your…” Qrow began to choke up.

“It’s okay Qrow. What about after that?” Summer asked, as she comforted him.

“I got angry. Really angry and I transformed my sword.” Qrow gasped, “Nonononono. I can’t show them. I don’t want them to take it from me.”

“It’s okay. They didn’t. It’s here.” Summer pointed to the wall next to Qrow’s bed. “See, your sword is right here.”

Qrow turned slowly to see that Harbinger was indeed learning against the wall, all nice and shiny. “They didn’t take it?”

“No. Why would they?” Tai asked.

“They always take things that I have or like.” Qrow explained.

Summer and Tai exchanged a look.

“They are gone and they won’t be taking this from you.” Tai said, trying to be reassuring.

Qrow turned back and glanced at his hands and a flash of blood on them had him curling in on himself. “There was blood. So much blood. And anger. And sadness. And then something cold and wet. And then something soft. And then warmth. And then I woke up here.”

Tai’s jaw dropped and Summer glared at him so that he could correct it quickly.

“You are safe here. Your memories are not wrong. You fought some of your tribe members and there was a lot of blood.” She paused for a moment. “But when Tai and I stopped you, you collapsed. You were still awake and you were, well, crying. You stared at your hands and wouldn’t move until me and Tai forced you to get up and dragged you away from the village. We dragged you to the river and shoved you in to wash you off. Then we wrapped you in a big coat so that you wouldn’t shiver from having been in the river. We walked and dragged you with us for the rest of the night. Until we found this place.” Summer explained.

“The old healer was more than willing to help us. We gave them a general idea of what happened and they were able to give you some concoction that would help you deal with what happened.” Tai added.

Then the room faded, as did Tai and Summer.

No. No. Come back. Don’t leave me..

“Alone…” Qrow said out loud. 

The memory, the repressed memory, had risen to the surface in a fierce way. He was reliving it since he didn’t remember any of that since it had happened. He missed them dearly. Summer was gone. While Tai was in Vale raising their two beautiful kids, it wasn’t until the past few weeks that he understood the need or want to live a domestic life. Clover had made him see an alternative, which was an eye opening experience. 

Now he was gone.

He opened his eyes and saw the blood on his hands. It wasn’t dry yet, so the amount of time that had passed wasn’t terribly long but the sun had moved a bit from where it had been when Clover had fallen…

He squinted his eyes and shook his head. He needed to get his bearings.

Then he glanced around for Harbinger. It was not so messy, having landed in the stream that led to the waterfall. It had a few smears here and there, but was for the most part clean and it shined in the reflected sunlight.

He reached for it but as his hands entered his vision, he stopped as the blood triggered him. He freaked out and buried them both in the streambed, trying to get off all of the red. He noticed that some was around his elbows and more on his clothes in various amounts and he took to jumping into the stream and rolling around to get everything either washed off or so dirty he couldn’t tell the difference. 

After some unknown amount of time Qrow laid with his back in the stream as the water wafted over and around him, staring at the sky. The tears and the sobs followed and he just let it happen. Wave after wave of sorrow, remorse and regret. He had never thought that caring about someone else would affect him this much and yet, now he understood better why Tai had been so unresponsive after Summer’s passing. The pain tugged at your soul and it didn’t pass as easily as anger or pleasure.

After feeling completely drained of all of his tears, Qrow rolled over and crawled out of the stream. He reached for Harbinger and hesitated only briefly, as he quickly hit the transformation switch and closed his eyes as it converted back to its broad sword form.

He placed it on his back, where it felt almost normal. The feeling was comforting and he had no plans to remove it ever again. It carried too much pain, more than anyone but him should have to carry. 

He looked around the area and found his cloak, which he donned immediately. No one should have to see Harbinger ever again. 

He found their satchels of supplies and grabbed them too.

He glanced toward the spot where Clover fell and turned away immediately. He didn’t want to see what he looked like now. It would be too much. It wasn’t a memory that he wanted of Clover. So he walked away from the cliff and the waterfalls.

He followed the path that the bandits had used to get here and came across the horses they had used. He let all ten loose and then the one that seemed the most friendly to him, since it had followed him around, he decided was optimal for riding since he felt so tired. The other horses followed and when he arrived at a nearby village past night fall, he found a small clearing outside of the small houses and huts and let the horses roam for the night. He found the partial remains of a fallen tree that looked like it had been carved out but had actually been decayed by time, animals and bugs. He climbed into and fell asleep, too tired for anything but solitude.

It took him about a month's time using the horses on rotation to slowly make his way back to the inn where they first met. He avoided the forest and stuck to the main road. No one really bothered him. Most could see that he was not someone that they should mess with. And for some strange reason, not a single horse went missing on his trip back, not that he would have cared or bothered to keep track.

When he arrived, Melinda recognized him despite his sorry disposition. She put together a warm bath and helped to wash away all the grime, dirt and little bit of leftover blood that he had missed. He hadn’t bothered with hygiene. Besides, it kept everyone else at bay. They didn’t need to be around him and his misfortune. Look what it did to everyone that he had ever cared about.

When he woke up next, it was in a familiar but lumpy bed, he remembered why he liked this inn and tavern over all the others. Melinda was the granddaughter of the healer. The healer had given Summer, Tai and himself the name of this place all those years ago. 

He noticed he wasn’t alone in the bed and turned to see Melinda sitting on the other side reading some form of cook book and making a list on a separate piece of parchment.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped and dropped the book. “Ah! Don’t do that.” She smacked him playfully. “You know how much I hate that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize that me waking up dazed and confused was enough to startle you.” Qrow commented

“How are you feeling, honey?” Melinda asked.

“Like shit.”

“You looked so lost when you got here. I took care of all the horses that you came with.”

“You shouldn’t have. They followed me here. I didn’t want them.”

Melinda laughed out loud. “You sound so put out. Did you ever think that maybe they sensed their own freedom and better life with you than their previous owners. Maybe they knew that you needed companions just not in the form of humans for a while, if all the grime I washed off of you was any indication.”

“How long have I been here?”

“About a day and a half. You showed up just before sunset and I happened to be outside tending to the chickens. I almost didn’t recognize you until you spoke and I caught a glimpse of your eyes in the light. I didn’t remember how pretty your eyes were when…”

“Shut Up!” Qrow barked. He closed his eyes, turned away from Melinda and then the tears started to fall. The last person to comment about how nice his eyes were was Clover and he didn’t need the reminder. “I-I’m sorry. I just…everything reminds me of…”

“Darlin’, you don’t need to explain. I could see the connection between you and that hunk before you left the last time you were here. You don’t buy just anyone a bowl of your favorite dish.” Melinda paused, and Qrow assumed it was to make sure that he didn’t get mad at her again. “I can only imagine what you have been through to return in the state that you did.” Melinda shuffled and then got off the bed. “I am going to collect a few ingredients and then get you on the mend. Broken hearts aren’t my specialty to fix but I can certainly make the memories a little less …intense. Grandma was always good with that sort of thing. I’ll be back later. Rest and I will have some food brought up so that you can at least try to eat.” She left without another word.

Melinda did exactly what she said she would and Qrow just laid in bed. He laid awake until one of the younger maids brought him some food. He nibbled on it, off and on. Slept and woke with still no perception of time. When Melinda returned it was apparently dinner time. She brought him a hot cup of tea, the likes of which brought back some vague memories of that time in the cottage with Summer and Tai. This was the medicine that she described. 

"To help the memories fade." Melinda

"Please. I don't want to remember anything." He drank it quickly and without concern for its taste, which was actually rather pleasant considering.

"Doesn't quite work that way sweetheart. But it will help dull their impact."

"Thank you." Qrow handed her the mug and laid back down.

"See you in the morning."

Qrow woke up feeling lighter than he had in weeks. But as he got up and put on the clothes that Melinda had set out for him. He made his way to the door and glanced back at the bed to see Harbinger resting against the side table. It all came flooding back to him. Dread was not a welcome friend and he really wished it would leave him alone. 

He walked over and placed Harbinger on his back, grabbed his cloak, which had been cleaned but not replaced and draped it over himself. 

This was his penance.

To carry the bad omen that was a weapon of his own creation. To wield the most deadly weapon on all of Remnant and protect others from those who would use it for personal gain or to wage war.

He let Melinda care for him in the best way she saw fit and spent the next few days just going through the motions. It wasn’t as bad as it had been on the ride back to the tavern but it still lingered. All the memories and the fun that they had had along the way still haunted him but they had less of bite to them. Qrow was grateful.

The Royal Guard came for him on the fifth day after his return. Apparently some people had caught on that he had traveled with Clover and that he had returned without him. Melinda had tried to warn him and hide him from them. He told her not to bother. He gave her Harbinger, in its sheath and asked that she find a responsible and good hearted owner for it and she promised him that she would. 

They cuffed him and took him to the castle. Qrow assumed that he was to be punished in some way. Most likely a public beheading for ‘abducting’ a member of the royal family. Not that he cared much, since he had fallen into this deep depression. He had almost gone back to drinking. Had Melinda not stopped him, he would have. Of all the things that Qrow had thought would make him lose his determination to quit, it had nothing to do with falling in love, nonetheless with a fraud and a royal, whom he could not be with. So death was likely the next best thing. 

The king of Atlas, James Ironwood, sat on the throne before him. Clover had spoken well of him, not that he could process this, as Qrow was escorted in chains to the front of the throne and forced to kneel. He didn’t fight it. He didn't have the will or the strength at the moment. 

An advisor to the king spoke.

“We are here to discuss the sentencing of a Mr. Qrow Branwen, a  known member of the Branwen tribe, who has committed a number of atrocities across the continent of Anima, mostly in the realm of Mystral but also in Argus. He also stands accused of abducting a member of the Royal family.”

Qrow considered denying his allegiance to the tribe but it mattered little that he had left them all those years ago, choosing personal exile over staying with them and hurting other people. Especially after he attacked and killed his own people.

Raven had searched for him in recent years. Even put a bounty on his head, which had not been successful. It was one of the reasons that he did his best to get to know the people at the places he frequented the most, so that they would keep an eye out for him. He paid them well for their assistance and they were happy to have a respectable, at least in their mind, patron. 

Some of them knew him because of Harbinger and that was the story that helped keep his connection to the Branwen tribe a secret. He had even fought against his own kin, since some of the newer recruits and younger generation didn’t know who he was. 

He had kept his sword hidden from the tribe so that they wouldn’t take it away from him. It had been a gift of the blacksmith of the tribe. The man had been kind to him and taken him on as an apprentice. He had learned enough to make his own adjustments. 

During his travels, when he was still young, he had come across a clockmaker by the name of Ozpin who had trusted him way too easily. But it had worked to Qrow's benefit, as he taught Qrow how gears could be used in more than just clocks and watches. Qrow had used his knowledge with the blacksmith to create much bigger gears and integrate them with Harbinger so that his sword was so much more than just a broad sword, but no one would know unless he chose to show them. 

He had shown Clover, who had recognized it due to rumors and stories that huntsmen told. He didn’t even have to ask for him to keep his secret. He knew that Clover wouldn’t talk about it unless Qrow gave him permission. Similar to how he thought of Kingfisher. 

But now he was a poor facade of the man he once was. He glanced up and saw grief on the King's face. He may have even seen some red around his eyes.

“What do you have to say for yourself regarding these charges?” the king asked.

Qrow closed his eyes, but otherwise didn’t move. He was too…angry, sad, apathetic, depressed. Take you pick or all of the above. None of them came close to covering it. He didn’t have the will or the motivation to do much of anything. Why bother denying something that wouldn’t matter in a few days?

“Very well. Guards, take him to a cell. His sentence will be carried out in 3 days.”

Qrow sat in his tiny jail cell and just waited for the inevitable. Time didn’t matter any more. He just laid on the ground and watched the bugs crawl around the floor and then he would sleep and then wake up and not know what time of day it was or what day or how long he had slept. Not that it mattered. He just didn’t have the motivation to try to live when his life was about to end. He was given some food-like substance once a day and he would slowly reach for it and scoop it into his mouth without bothering to taste or smell it. It was just barely enough to survive on. Then he would go back to sleeping or some other monotonous task, such as counting the bricks in the wall.

He was counting the ants on the ground that were crossing in front of his face when there was an unusual noise. He ignored it but it repeated and got louder.

He slowly shifted his gaze to look toward the noise. He saw a cloaked figure standing in front of the bars of his cell. It seemed familiar but he couldn't focus on it properly. Then the figure spoke.

"Hey! Listen! We're going to get you out of here." It was a female voice and not one that he recognized. Didn't mean much since he knew people from all over but he didn't think he was owed this sort of favor.

"Go. Away." Qrow told them.

"I'm a friend of Clover's. Name's Elm. The letters that he wrote were sent to me and a few of his other friends. I got the last one. What I do know is that he left by his own decision and traveled with you by choice. I don't know why he isn't with you now but he wouldn't want you punished or killed for his choices. Besides, I think he is in love with you, based on the details he included in his letter. That wouldn't…"

"Clover's dead," Qrow blurted out.

Elm gasped. "No. That can't be true. His last letter…"

"I watched him fall off the cliff of a waterfall. He's gone." Qrow spit out and a sob left him as he said it. He didn't think he had any tears left to mourn and yet here they were again. 

"Clearly, you believe what you saw. I don't know about that. Regardless, you don't deserve to die because of his choices. Look for me later." And suddenly she was gone.

Good riddance .

Elm returned but Qrow wasn’t sure when. He suspected it was the night before his sentence would be carried out but wasn’t sure. She had gotten the guards keys, although he cared not how and did recognize her as resourceful, but maybe he was giving her too much credit. He realized that he didn’t really care as she led him out of the jail area and into an adjoining courtyard. Clearly the darkness gave them an advantage.

They almost got caught on a number of occasions because one or both of them were being careless. It wasn’t until she whisper-screamed at him, “Do you want us both to get caught?! Is my life not worth saving?!”

“Fine. Should have just left me…”

“And leave one of my closest friends broken-hearted for the rest of his life. I couldn’t bear it.”

“He’s…not coming back. You won’t have to…”

“You’re wrong! I have known him for a lot longer than you and I know that a little scuffle with a cliff or a waterfall wouldn’t have stopped him from using his beloved tool, even if it gave his identity away.”

“You’re referring to Kingfisher. I know all about it.” Elm seemed shocked as Qrow continued, “but it was broken a few days before. I learned of his identity after I learned about Kingfisher, not that it ever mattered to me…”

“You knew and it didn’t…damn. No wonder he was falling for you.”

“Let’s not…just…later. Before staying here gets you locked up with me.”

Elm followed a path that she had chosen but before they got even halfway to the end, the alarms went off. 

“Shit. Someone must have checked your cell.”

“You didn’t leave a decoy.”

“I did but someone must have done a more thorough check. Although I cannot imagine why.”

“We need to split up. If I get caught no big deal, I go back to my cell. If you get caught with me, then you will likely hang right beside me. No need for more senseless death.”

Elm reached out her hand and Qrow grabbed it, “Good luck,” and she took off into the shadows. Despite her height and bulk, she was surprisingly decent at finding places to hide in plain sight.

Qrow decided to take her gift and run with it. He didn’t know Argus well but he knew enough to find a safe place where he had stayed previously when he had come to town. The concern was could he make it there before the guards blocked the path and would the connections he made still recognize him.

He managed to evade all of the guards which he had not expected to be successful. But when he got to the establishment, it looked abandoned. Still a half decent place to hide but not what he was hoping for. He slipped between two slats of wood that covered a boarded up window and ducked inside.

He waited quietly for a while, he didn’t know how long, until he could hear nothing of the search for him going on in this area. Then he got up and walked around. The establishment was a bit run down, but he noticed that it lacked dust. So either someone was squating here or it had only recently been closed, which didn’t line up with the state of the slats he had slid past to get in here.

He cautiously walked around and listened for any noise. Suddenly he heard a creaking and wood hitting stone, followed by footsteps and voices.

“So the guards didn’t find him?” a female voice questioned.

“No. They are still looking on the south side. They have all of the entrances to the city blocked. They even doubled the guard on the wall.” a deep voice said, as Qrow heard the voices getting louder. He then saw the tops of their heads appear over the bar, as they were climbing stairs from the floor below.

“We need to find him first. I promised that I would help and I would hate for our first collaboration to..” At that moment, a blonde-haired woman, who had been speaking, had made it to the landing and walked around to look around the deserted tavern. She was staring at Qrow who had not moved from the dark corner he had ducked into when he first heard voices. Apparently her eyesight was better than most.

“Well, well, well. If I didn’t know better, I would say that we just got lucky,” the blonde commented.

Qrow stepped forward out of the shadow and, of the six people standing with the blond, five of them stepped back in shock or surprise. He wasn’t sure if his reputation preceded him or what caused their hesitation but it gave him an edge if he decided to make a quick exit.

“Elm is surprisingly good at getting people out of jail.” Qrow retorted.

“She is resourceful when she needs to be. Not her usual gig, I’m afraid.” the blond paused for a moment. “So, where would you prefer to go? Back to jail or follow us and eventually get you out of town.”

“Depends on who’s asking?”

“Fair enough. I’m Robyn Hill.” She held out her hand.

Qrow looked at it and then back up at the ladies behind her.

She sighed, as she dropped her outreached hand. “We are the Happy Huntresses. I would do proper introductions but we don’t have the time for that. The Royal Guard is bound to make its way back around and we need to leave. Now!”

Qrow glanced out a window to his right, as the boards let in the moonlight. Then back at Robyn and the Happy Huntresses. 

“Time to decide. Freedom of the noose?” Robyn asked.

Maybe it was her giving him the option to choose for himself. Maybe it was Elm’s optimistic view about not believing him when he said that Clover was dead. Regardless, his will to live decided to kick into gear. “Lead the way”

Robyn and the Happy Hunters help get him away for a few days. Elm even came by to chat. But she had more to share than just words.

“So we have a few friends in common.”

“Oh? I can’t imagine that.” Qrow wasn’t in the mood to make small talk.

“Yeah, one in particular said something about finding this baby a ‘responsible and good hearted’ wielder.”

Qrow froze at her words and then stared in shock as she took Harbinger out from behind her back. He didn’t think that he would miss her and yet he did.

“I had a friend of mine make a few tweeks to it. Nothing too crazy. He just added a simple feature to it.” She stated as she walked it closer to him. She stood shoulder to shoulder with him, as she clicked a button and a large portion of the broadsword tipped down and showed the now obvious shotgun that had been added to the top of the remaining broadsword, with the trigger inside the handle. It was an ingenious addition. Something that he had considered doing for many years but had never had the opportunity.

He goes to reach for it and then a flash of blood on his hands, had him curling back in on himself. There was a reason it had been easy to let her go, especially in the thrall of depression.

“I appreciate the offer but…I-I can’t.” 

Elm stared at him in awe, jaw dropped. “This is Harbinger. You are the ‘ Harbinger of Grimm .’ You can’t just give it away an…”

“Stop! I already gave it up! I don’t even know why I bother to hide from the guard. I would be better off dead.”

“Don’t you dare!” There was a sorrowful look on her face. “Don’t! You may have given up hope but we haven’t. He will come back. He has to.” Tears slid down Elm’s face. 

It made Qrow feel bad for causing her pain. Qrow reached out and touched Elm’s shoulder. “I don’t know what you expected of me or him. But we are not your salvation or any other grandiose idea that you have of us. Harbinger isn’t just mine anymore. It belongs to people who can't speak or fight for themselves.” Qrow turned around and began to walk away. “I hope that you find her a good home.”

Qrow’s depression returned as his glimmer of hope slipped out of his grasp, alongside his will to live. He got careless when he went out looking for a quick fix. He decided that drinking or not, now wouldn’t really make a difference. He was a dead man anyway.

He sat at the bar, ordered a drink and stared at it for a while. Am I really going to do this? He had done so well. But then all of the despair returned as he re-lived watching Clover tumble off the cliff. He picked up the drink and brought it to his lips.

Lucky or unlucky for him, depending on how you look at it, someone started a bar fight right at the moment, knocking the drink from his hand. 

He just watched as the glass slowly drifted in the air, tipped to the side and the liquid poured out and onto the floor, the glass following shortly after as it shattered on the ground. He ignored the brawl that started. He just sighed and took his leave, as he had no desire to get into a fight that was pointless.

He made his way out of the door and before he got three steps, he ran into the Royal Guard. He apologized profusely and stepped aside. Most of them moved past them and into the tavern to deal with the fight. Qrow then moved to step around the few who remained, as he assumed that they would pay him no mind. 

He continued to walk away, ignoring the commotion from the bar. When suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulder, pushed to the ground and cuffed. Just his luck.

As he was dragged back to the bar, someone kept shouting and another person kept pointing at him. Qrow just rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the patience for this shit.

They were all led to a group cell, where they were expected to stay the night. As they acquired the names of each person before they tossed them into the cell, Qrow didn’t have the will to make up a name or the care to tell them his real name. So when it was his turn he didn’t bother answering or even when they beat him. They tossed him in with the others regardless.

The next morning, as they began to charge each of the detainees, some of the higher ups from the Royal Guard came around. One of them took a look at the few in the cell and gasped.

Qrow heard whispers and mumbled phrases. He wasn’t really paying attention as a throbbing headache made it hard to do much of anything. Their beating of him really did a number on his head. Some time passed but Qrow didn’t notice as he tried to sleep off the headache.

As the Royal Guard entered the cell, the other detainees parted like a magical force had pushed them aside. 

They grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. 

“Is this him?” one of the guards asked.

Qrow heard another person hum as they considered him. As he cracked open his eyes, he saw someone scrutinizing him. Qrow blinked a few times to adjust to the light and then as the guard studied his gaze, they nodded.

“Despite the bruising and scrapes, it's him. His red eyes are ones that I will never forget.” One of the Royal Guard commented.

He was lifted up and carried off by four sets of hands, as they carted him out of this cell and into another.

Sorry Elm. I guess it was all for not.

He was placed in another jail cell by himself. It was quite a bit nicer than the first one but it still had bugs and stones to count. But unlike last time, he had company. Apparently, after his first escape they decided that he required more security.

He was surprised to receive a visit from the King. Perhaps that was how they found out that he had escaped the first time.

“Mr. Branwen. Tell me where he is?”

Qrow grunted. “Who?”

“The prince? Clover. Where is he?”

Qrow tried not to get emotional but it was pointless as he re-lived the memory of Clover falling off the cliff. It didn’t work. “He fell…off a cliff.”

“Where?”

Qrow didn’t answer as tears returned to his vision. It surprised him since he thought that all of his previous tears had left him dry.

“Where!!?” King James insisted. 

Qrow still didn’t answer. He heard metal clanking and then some rustling of clothes. Suddenly he was hoisted into the air, feet no longer touching the floor. 

“Answer ME!!” King James was clearly furious.

The tears fell down his face and a few landed on James’ hand. It took a bit longer than it should have for the king to register what was happening.

“You..you mourn him. You cared for him.” James looked down and pinched his nose with his free hand, before he looked back up at Qrow. He lowered him back to the ground. ”Please! Tell me where. I want to find his…remains so that I can…mourn, if what you say is true.”

Qrow recognized the hurt in the king’s voice and remembered how Clover told him how they had been close friends as teenagers. He remembered a few of the shenanigans that Clover had told him about. It was for this reason only that he answered him. King James needed closure like everyone else.

“Near Vale border crossing. Waterfall.”

James let go of Qrow and readjusted himself. “Thank you.”

Qrow watched him turn to leave. Before he left, Qrow added, “He told me about you.” Qrow watched King James freeze, “You were the one that found him after he was captured as a kid. He thought of you as good friends.”

King James turned to glance back at Qrow. “Clearly he trusted you, which is more than I can say for myself.” He took the last few steps to the door. “You will meet the brothers tomorrow morning at the end of a rope. Upon their judgment and with their grace, may you be reunited with him.” And then he vanished behind a huge head to foot cloak and his aids.

Qrow was escorted with little fanfare to the gallows. 

He was not alone but he was last in line. Apparently, he was the main course for the audience, which became apparent when they escorted him up the stairs and announced his name, causing the crowd to roar. It didn't help the emphasis on his last name and the crimes that they listed that he was being charged for. ‘Pillaging, stealing, theft, rape, murder and destroying whole villages’ were just the tip of the iceberg, when it came to the Branwen tribe and what he knew they had done as a teen. Despite his dissociation from the tribe, it didn’t matter. His name made him guilty by association.

He looked up at the crowd. The sun had peeked over the top of the building in the square. He could just make out the King at the far end. Seeing him reminded him of his words from last night. 

‘ Upon their judgment and with their grace, may you be reunited with him ’

Oh, did he wish it was possible. But he had little hope or faith in the brothers. And if they did exist to judge him, he was likely not going where Clover was. The best he could expect was purgatory, while the worst was outside his comprehension. 

He slowly was guided to the noose assigned to him and strung it over his head. They tightened it a bit and asked if he had any last words. He shook his head.

Then there was a trumpeting sound, announcing the arrival of someone important, followed by a booming voice. “Stop. I demand that you release him at once.”

King James stood and looked towards the voice in question, before he responded, “On whose orders? “ 

“By order of the Duke of Argus, Prince of Mystral.”

Qrow heard the voice but was not sure if he could believe his own ears. He squinted as he narrowed in on the voice and the figure attached to it. He thought that he recognized the figure. It was a bit more lean than he recalled but perhaps his memory was faulty. At that moment, hope and love came flooding back into his head. Was it really Clover? He had to know if it was truly him. He had to get to him as quickly as possible. No matter what it took, as the noose still hung loosely around his neck.

Chapter Text

One moment he was fighting one of the bandits and knocking a weapon out their hand, the next he was falling. 

Weightless. 

Suddenly, as if with muscle memory, he turned Kingfisher upside down and prayed that his luck would hold. He aimed for behind the waterfall and shot out the spear end. It dug into some softer rock and he swung with it, through the waterfall and slammed into the wall of rock behind it. Then he swung back slightly, dangling into the path of the waterfall, as he was pelted with gallons of water. He didn't sway much, which made it difficult to get out of the way of the waterfall.

He gasped and was surprised by how much water followed the air into his mouth. He was going to drown while hanging. He needed to get out of here. Quick.

He began to lower himself down, using the crank that was hidden in the handle. As he lowered himself down, it became easier to breathe as the water dispersed more, the further down he went. He was more than halfway down when he felt himself shift lower and not of his own volition. Kingfisher was clearly in softer rock, as the spear loosed a bit more. Clover hurriedly cranked faster, when suddenly it pulled loose of the rock. He fell the rest of the way, crashing into the water. After being pummeled by it from above, he was surprised at how warm it felt.

Despite his luck above, he got caught in the undercurrent of the waterfall. He had taken only a small breath of air before he fell and it was running out quickly. He was starting to panic. 

He looked around and tried something that Vine had once said that he had done with much practice and sucked air from a large air bubble in the water. He struggled for a bit as he tried to get to a larger bubble of fresh air. Some of them being as big as his head helped. 

That slight reprieve gave him enough time to reach towards the floor of the basin, so he could kick off and propel himself away and out towards the rest of the stream. He was successful. But as he saw the surface of the water just a few meters away, he realized that he had misjudged the distance to the surface. His vision blurred and the lack of air became too much for his body to handle and he lost consciousness. 

As he lost his breath and began to go limp, his body slowly rose to the surface. Luckily, he floated into a few branches and roots of trees that draped into the pool near the bottom of the waterfall, causing him to turn over as he floated downstream, now facing up. With limited awareness, he continued to float downstream for what felt like forever. 

Suddenly, he was lifted out of the water by a man, or so he assumed based on strength. His awareness was still inconsistent and lacking, as he felt wet one moment and dry the next. Then there was the smell of herbs and oil on his skin. This person was a healer of sorts, or so he hoped. He then felt bandages on different parts of his body. Arms, legs, back, chest. All he could think was how bad he must have looked. 

He was out of it for at least ten days and then as his fever subsided and he began to recover with the help of this gracious healer, he started to have more bouts of lucidity. 

Due to the severity of his injuries, specifically to his ribs, he was unable to move much or it would cause himself a lot of pain. It seemed like it would be worth it if he could make it back to Qrow. But his body wouldn’t do what he asked and the healer had easily pushed him back down and calmed his aches with a special touch. He melted into, seeking to calm the frayed edges of his nerves that seemed to constantly scream at him that there was pain, all of which preferred rest to recover properly..

He remembered Qrow’s scream as he struggled to get out of the water, pounding him as he clung to Kingfisher with all of his strength. As he repelled down, he thought he heard the class of metal, but it was hard to tell. Once Kingfisher lost its anchor, and Clover fell, he heard the clear and distinct slash of metal against metal, flesh and air. Qrow was using Harbinger’s sythe form against humans. He had told Clover that he never used that form against them, only grimm. Clover had yet to learn why but had not pressed the issue as it seemed to stir something in the elder that he was not keen to discuss. And yet the sound of Harbinger’s sythe form was crystal clear and then it was drowned out by water as it pummeled him down beneath the surface.

Then the random memories of soft blankets and bad tasting drinks that made him cough and of being constantly too hot and sweaty lingered in his memory as he finally woke to ask, "Where am I?"

"You are in my home, just north of Waterdown Village," a deep elderly voice replied.

"Ow, my head," Clover complained, as he tried to push himself up.

"Not just your head hurts, I imagine," the voice stated.

"Uhg, hssssss, ow. Why did you have to remind me?"

"The last time I didn't, you tried to get up and complained that I didn't tell you about it. There is no winning with you, it would seem."

"That's not...wait. We've had this conversation before?" Clover asked.

"Yes. Few times actually. Not surprised that you don't remember. But with your fever having broken, you should remember more this time."

"How long have I been here?" Clover asked.

"About 12 days."

" What? I...I have to get going." Clover shifted on the bed.

"Oh no you don't." He pushed his staff into Clover's shoulder, a sore muscle reminded him that he wasn’t there yet. "Keep your ass in that bed or I will knock you out."

"Yes sir." Clover said without thinking. He winced at his words, but his companion didn’t seem to notice. Some habits die hard.

Clover relaxed while trying to think about how injured he was, taking an inventory and gingerly testing different body parts. Too quickly, he fell asleep, exhausted by just the sheer mental facilitation.

Clover woke again, later, but recognized that he was still with the healer. But he was more curious about other things.

“How long have I been here?” He asked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

"Definitely making some progress. Your first question wasn't asking about your location this time," the deep voiced elderly healer commented.

"You didn't answer my question."

"No need. You are not going anywhere anytime soon. No lay back so I can put something on your chest."

Clover did as he was told or rather demanded of him. The old timer was clearly good at what he did but not as gentle as Clover would have liked, as he winced a number of times and the healer didn't apologize or comment. Whatever he put on permeated the skin quickly. 

"What is that?"

"Something for you fractured ribs. You're gonna want to drink this to dull the pain," as he shoved a drink at Clover.

"You don't...have guests very often, do you?"

"No need. The quiet suits me. One of the reasons that I live outside of the village. They seek my help when they need it and they leave me alone the rest of the time. Now drink that."

Clover got a whiff of the drink and it didn’t smell terrible like the hazy memories of the last week. He sipped it hesitantly and when the warm and pleasant flavor hit his tongue, he realized just how thirsty he was. He downed it quickly.

“That was good. Can I have more to drink?”

“No.”

Clover almost pouted, “But…”

“No buts. That herbal remedy shouldn’t be diluted or it won’t be absorbed as fast in your stomach. Lay down and rest.”

Clover grumbled but laid back down. He had never been so belittled since he was a child. He was appreciative of the care he was receiving but it came with cost. Although his pride wasn’t worth much in his current state..

The next few days passed in similar fashion with the healer, Gilliavarr, which he learned after he remembered to ask. He continued to feed him specific foods and drinks and apply different ointments and salves to his chest and back. He would occasionally wake up after a long nap, especially after Gilliavarr had applied one of his remedies to his skin, and ask for a drink, which Gilliavarr would grant. 

Clover would occasionally ask Gillivarr to tell him how long he had been here, since he was finding it difficult between his long bouts of sleep. Time was fluid and even the lack of light was not enough to define it for him since some of his time sleeping began in the evening and would last until the next afternoon or late morning. 

Clover woke up one morning and he could tell it was morning due to the birds and the slowly increasing daylight. He felt better than he had since he had been there, even better than when he had been traveling with Qrow. He nearly jumped out of bed and immediately regretted it. His muscles spasmed all over his body at the sudden movement, causing him to fall back onto the floor. However, Gillivarr hadn't shown up to scold him, which he thought odd. But perhaps not, since Clover’s perception had been limited to what the man did to care for him. 

Once the spasms ended, Clover slowly crawled back to the bed and pushed himself to sit up. It felt good but his body was still aching from his previous movement. He stood up again and padded his way using anything in reach to steady himself and made his way to the door. He then made his way down a narrow hallway where he heard voices coming from another room. Concerned, he quietly made his way closer.

“He is healing well but he is still not ready to move yet. He will need more time. I will escort him to you myself once he is ready.” Gilliavarr stated.

“Fine! But I don’t like waiting! I will be back in a fortnight. Make sure he is healed enough by then or it will be your head.” An unknown voice threatened. There was a shuffling of boots and then a horse whinny, and then the sound of hooves taking off into gallop as the door was closed. 

“What am I going to do?” Gilliavarr asked of himself.

Clover wasn’t sure if he should reveal himself or head back down the hall. He understood that he was being threatened and no one deserved to die because they couldn’t heal someone fast enough. But he also seemed conflicted with delivering him to that mysterious person.

Clover slowly made his way around the corner and into the kitchen area.

“How about we work together and then I can protect you from whoever that was.”

Gilliavarr was more than happy to hear that Clover would help him. Clover didn’t tell him all the details but gave enough away for the Gilliavarr to understand that Clover was well connected and wealthy, so that he was capable in both protecting him and offering him partisanship, since his healing skills were top tier. Likely better than what he had ever had from some of his own healers and alchemists in both Argus and Atlas.

They worked together to make a plan to get Clover back into shape to travel and at a hurried pace in ten days. Gilliavarr made a regimen that Clover was happy to work with that would get him back up to par. When Gilliavarr made meals, Clover took breaks to work on Kingfisher. Gilliavar even sent word to Waterdown Village for a smith and a fisherman to visit to help him repair his weapon. Both were intrigued and eager to assist. Both had owed Gilliavarr for healing themselves and their family members and this was a minor request to return at least one favor. 

Together the three of them were able to repair and make Kingfisher even stronger than last time, so that it wouldn’t easily be broken again. 

However, Gilliavarr’s luck wasn’t as good as Clover’s. The bandit was back, earlier than stated. Clover was in his room when he heard the loud voices and the crash of broken jars. Clover knew that no one from town would treat the man that way, so he did what he thought would get the healer out of it. He played the desperate wounded hero role. 

He took off all of his extra armor and clothing, doused his skin in some water to give the impression that he was sweating. Then he put on the loose shirt he would wear to bed on and got some of the fabric he was wearing also wet, especially the pit areas so that he could sell it. Added a bit more water to his hair, then he grabbed Gilliavarr’s staff, that he had the pleasure of being hit with a number of times, and stumbled out of the room and down the hallway, using the staff as a crutch.

As he scampered around the corner of the hall entering the kitchen area, while using the staff as a support, Clover sputtered out, “You…unhand him…right…this…minu,”  in a dramatic and exasperated fashion. He lost his grip on the staff and fell on the floor, just missing his own face. As much as he would have liked that to have been planned, it was not. 

“What do we have here?” A woman questioned. “A poor, pitiful noble trying to play the hero.” She laughed, as she walked over to him and kicked his shoulder. Clover rolled with it and riled in pain, which wasn't that strong of a kick, especially since he saw it coming. “Pathetic.”

Clover struggled to sit back up unsteadily, as he noticed that the other woman had put Giliavarr down. “Ge’ out…now…before…I…” as he pretended to pass out.

“Seems you were telling the truth. He does need more time.” The woman must have straightened out his shirt and vest, as Clover heard the sound of hands over fabric. Must have been a pathetic silent apology. Regardless, they seemed to be aiming to leave. “I will leave you to your charge. But she will be back as promised in five days.” Then there were footsteps and then the door was slammed shut. Gilliavarr didn’t move at first and then he heard him rush toward something, which turned out to be himself. “Clover, wake up. Please.”

Clover didn’t move, as he whispered. “Are they gone?”

There was silence and then Clover heard the horse hooves. “Check to make sure they both left.”

Clover felt Gilliavarr move to check his window carefully. After a few moments, he padded back to Clover. “Yes, they both left. Made sure that both horses had people on them too.”

Clover got up before he spoke in hushed tones. “First, walk with me.” Clover paused. “You should check around the house too to make sure that they didn’t bring anyone else and leave them behind. I will stay here and start packing quietly. Let me know anything else in the room that you need.”

Gilliavarr seemed hesitant at first. “Alright.” He pointed out a number of small boxes and bags that he needed. Clover nodded. Then Gilliavarr left to search outside.

Clover began packing as efficiently as he could, as well as made a backup plan for how to get the rest of their supplies without drawing attention. He changed back into his regular clothing and armor that the smith had provided for him. It was made from some of the nicest leather that Clover had ever seen. And it was sturdy too.

He also placed Kingfisher on his hip. Grabbed a spare cloak from a hook on the wall and draped it over himself. No need for anyone to see what you were wielding if they didn’t need to. Qrow had taught him that. His shoulders slumped as memories resurfaced..

Qrow. Please be safe.

It was like a silent prayer or hope that he could find the man once more. After everything that he had been through, there was no longer any doubt that he was in love with him. The better question was – What would be left of the man once he found him? He had been gone for almost a month. And he wasn’t sure how long it would take them to find him. But he had to try.

Gilliavarr returned and quietly spoke, “It is as you said it was. There is evidence of another nearby. What do we do?”

“We wait for the fall of night, the day after tomorrow and then I will make a hasty departure.”

“What about me?”

“You will go about your normal chores and routines today, but prepare to head to town to sell your items and to gather supplies.”

“But I don’t sell anything in town.”

“They don’t know that.”

“You sound like you have done this before.”

“No but it is important to think a few steps ahead.”

“What do we need to do?”

Clover packed up the supplies that they would need and gave Gilliavarr an empty crate and a few items that he thought that his donkey could handle but wouldn’t need, as well as others that they would need. Gilliavarr also set up a hitch to attach to his donkey, which he rarely used. Then he packed his supplies in it to take to town the next day. Clover had heard him talking to himself about what he was preparing for and whistling while he did it. Clover had never heard him do that before. Clearly he was a little nervous and did what he could to hide it. 

Gilliavarr finished his chores and saw to his normal tasks, including making food for the both of them and giving Clover his last doses of medicine, including some for the following few weeks in case they got separated. Clover told him not to think like that but Gilliavarr insisted, just in case something didn’t go as planned. 

Clover asked that he make extra food for the trip, but now they planned to go via horseback, so they could handle a bit more weight. They had already been packing food for their trip, just now it was happening a little differently than expected.

Clover prepared the two of them as best he could. Gilliavarr had a map of the area and they made plans for the meeting location the second night, if they got separated. Gilliavarr was scheduled to travel to town in the afternoon and ‘deliver’ his wares and items to the folk, when in reality he was providing each with instructions to help him. He only went to the folks that he knew and those that had owed him favors. He did need to send a message into town for someone to house Clover for the night. 

Luckily a distraction came along that provided the perfect opportunity. A local boy had been injured, minorly so and his brother had come to ask for some healing herbs to prevent an infection. Gilliavarr was resourceful, as he brought him into the kitchen. He was able to slip a note in with the herbs for the boy to take to another villager for him. He calmly said it was payment for the herbs and the boy was more than happy to oblige. However, he also followed the boy home to ‘check’ on the boy himself, as a way to give Clover the chance to see the spy for himself. Clover watched from his room between the crack of a few boards that covered a window that Gilliavarr didn’t want anymore. He listened carefully to which he heard light footsteps and the kitchen door creak. Clover quietly shuffled to lay back down.

He gingerly grabbed Gillivarr’s blind cat, Cecile, who had taken a liking to him and laid back onto the cot, pulled blankets up to his chin and placed the cat on his chest. He schooled his breathing to relax as he lay there, deepening it to seem asleep. Every spy was unique. If his royal upbringing had taught him anything, it was that spies could be anyone and anywhere at any time. This was an area in which he was a bit more knowledgeable than most.

Clover focused on his breathing while he felt the spy in the room. Cecile did her job, as the spy got closer. She hissed and snapped at the person to the degree that they even vocalized their dissatisfaction even if it was very very quiet. 

He heard them rustling around the room and fidgeting with a few things and the glimpse through his mostly closed eyes gave him enough of a view to notice that they were making note of what was in the room and were pocketing a few things. Clover would have to make note of what went missing. They didn’t linger as they soon made for the door, turning to look back at the cat on his chest that was clearing herself, shook their head and left.

Clover waited, listening for the soft footfalls until he heard the kitchen door close with a thud. Clearly they had no qualm with waking him at this point. Clover slowly lifted Cecile off his chest and onto the cot, petting her as he set her down.

He made his way back over to the window to peek outside. He saw their spy snooping around the place and once he didn’t see anything of importance he followed Gilliavarr down the path towards the village.

Once the spy followed Gilliavarr and Clover took this as his que to leave. 

They had planned for Clover to leave that night and just in case the spy got the idea to check on him when Gilliavarr was out the next day, they prepared a decoy. They made the room smell retched, which Clover’s nose had already adjusted to, hoping that would be enough to dissuade them to leave his decoy alone without thinking that Clover was dead. And to use Cecile, who was territorial and protective. 

Cecile liked Clover quite a bit for some odd reason, which Gilliavarr had explained she didn’t like anyone. But if she was placed in a comfortable spot, she wouldn’t move, bar food and to relieve herself, which wasn’t often since she couldn't see. Although her sense of smell was impeccable. She would protect the space, snuggled in some of Clover’s former tattered clothes, so that she would protect Clover’s decoy.

But with the chance to leave undetected, without the spy catching him, was an opportunity that Clover was going to miss. 

Clover left a quick note about what the spy might have taken, his decision to make a sudden departure and set up the decoy so that Gilliavarr could tend to ‘him’ once he returned. Gilliavarr would set up the rest of the façade tomorrow before he left for the village.

Clover grabbed a few bags that they would need that Gilliarr couldn’t take with him to town without looking suspicious and made his way east, away from the river that ran on the west but north of the village. He kept a wide berth to prevent the spy from seeing him in the forested area outside of town. He considered leaving and heading to town from the far side but decided against it. He found a place in a tree that he could easily climb, with a little help from Kingfisher and far enough away that he could see Gillivarr’s home. He perched waiting for Gillivarr to return. After about an hour, he saw him make his way into the house and a short time later he saw the spy flitting between shadows. The spy wasn’t completely inept. But that was Clover’s cue to head into the village.

Clover was amazed at Gilliavarr’s resourcefulness. The community Waterdown Village clearly respected him even if he didn’t feel that they liked him very much. He made his way to the smith where he was able to get a horse, which the smith wouldn’t let him pay for. Clover thanked him for his generosity and promised that it would be returned in the future. He led the stallion around while he made a few visits to specific people for supplies.

He grabbed a bite to eat from the dinner which the smith and fisherman had raved about and then made his way to the local quilter and handed her a note that Gilliavarr had written a few days before. She escorted Clover to her spare room and bid him a good night. Clover slept uneasy but was not too concerned with how this was working out.

The next morning, he waited in that spare room for hours. It was important that he stay hidden until nightfall. Luckily, the quilter’s spare room had quite a collection of books, so Clover was able to pass the time by reading. There were a large variety of topics. What surprised him was that when he pulled out an older looking history book, he found a set of books behind it. 

Without thinking why, perhaps they had just run out of shelf space, Clover grabbed one and found that these were naughty stories, which included great detail of the conquests of men and women. Clover shoved it back in its hiding spot. He was not privy to those stories and they didn’t interest him since his interest lay outside of women. 

Yet his curiosity about this topic had him reaching for other books tucked behind the others. How vast was this collection? He removed a few more books to find that the whole shelf was full of them. He saw one with an unusual title.

Bosom Buddies . 

He pulled it out to see two men on the front, in a pose that was not typical of men who laid with women. He decided to take a closer look and skim a few of the pages and found that it was in fact a book about a gay couple, in great detail. Despite feeling a bit out of place and a little turned on, he read the book, with great speed, from cover to cover. After he read through it, turned on in ways he had not anticipated, he returned to the shelf.

He was not a virgin and he had laid with a woman once, as a horny teenager, to learn very quickly that it didn’t feel right. But finding men with similar desires who wouldn’t try to use it against him was…difficult to say the least. He had a few partners over the years but it had been a while since he last engaged in that activity. Reading about it brought back memories of his own experiences and gave him ideas of things that the wanted to do in the future. In particular with Qrow.

He looked through all of the books on the shelf to find that most were like the first one that he had found. However, he found four more of men with men and three more with women with women. He was greatly surprised by that, but then again who was he to judge. 

He had read through two more of the books with men, when he noticed how dark it was outside. He took the two unread books with him and put the rest back. He didn’t want to steal but he felt compelled to take them. It was the only time he had ever even seen something like them anywhere. Not that he would ever have been allowed to read, nevertheless touch such a book. He took a piece of paper from the side table and wrote a note about the two that he had taken, promised to return them and left some coins to cover the cost to replace them if he failed to return them. 

Gilliavarr would have made his rounds with the donkey by now, or at least Clover assumed that he had. Gilliavarr’s second to last stop was with the smith where he left the cart and the donkey. He then went to the diner, got some food and played a few games of cards before slipping out back. 

Clover quietly left the quilter’s home, thanking her for her hospitality before heading out the back door to get his horse and then to the back of the diner to meet Gilliavarr. Another villager, a teen whom Clover had not met, was waiting with a horse for Gilliavarr, which had been prepared with saddle bags filled to the hilt with all of their supplies, having swung by the smith’s place to collect it all. The smith would take good care of the donkey but the road was no place for such an animal when it came to speed.

The teen handed him some items and pointed to his saddle bags and Clover added them to his saddled bags without any thought. Gilliavarr came out a short time later and joined Clover.

“Ready?” Clover asked.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

And off they went to find Qrow and hopefully far enough away from Gilliavarr’s bandits.

With Gilliavarr’s maps it was much easier to find their way back. They were able to stay off the roads, even on horseback and travel faster than by using the marked roads. Qrow had been right about that part too. Easier to be missed and less likely to be seen but more likely to be found by grimm. But Clover had one thing now that he didn’t have then and that was hope. And Gilliavarr had just left his own pain and fear behind, so all Clover had to do was imagine being in Qrow’s arms again and the thrill would fill him with all sorts of good feelings. They made their way across Anima in record time. Just 12 days. They arrived at the tavern where he first met Qrow at near sunset. He found Melinda right away.

“Have you seen him? Where’s Qrow?”

“Oh, honey, you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“He was picked up by the royal guard. I tried to protect him but he wouldn’t let me. He was so lost without you, sugar. Any hope he had seemed to have died with you, or so he thought.”

“Do you know where they took him?”

“To Argus to be judged by the King?”

“James is in Argus?” That was unusual. But that could be a good thing if he had to get to Qrow fast. “How long ago did they get him?”

“Five days ago.”

“No. No!” Clover cried. Clover was aware that if they had traveled to Argus from here that it would have taken them at least a day and if he saw the King the same day, that his punishment would have been scheduled for the morning of the third day. Maybe James had been on his way and his sentence may not have been carried out yet. “I still have to try.” But could they get there fast enough to prevent them from ending his life.

“Oh. One more thing.” Melinda walked behind the counter, moved a rug and opened a hatch in the floor and pulled out something in a bag. She closed the hatch and covered it back over before handing the bag to Clover. “He asked me to give this to someone worthy of it. I can’t think of anyone more worthy.”

Clover knew immediately what it was when the weight of it was in his hands. He had held it a number of times. Hell they had trained each other with their weapons. This was Harbinger. 

Why on earth would Qrow have given it up so easily? 

Wait. He knew that they were going to execute him. And he didn’t want them to decide what happened to his precious weapon.

“Thanks Melinda. I will take good care of her.” Clover turned to leave and then thought better of it. Gilliavarr, himself and the horses were in no condition to ride overnight to get to Argus, no matter what he was willing to push his body and horses to do. He would likely fall off or lead the horse astray in his sleep. He turned back to Melinda.

“Who’s the fastest rider, nearby, willing to travel overnight?”

Melinda thought for a moment. “I do know someone, but…” she hesitated, “they are part of the Royal Guard.” 

Clover’s eyes went wide. “Someone from the Royal Guard is nearby?”

“Yeah. She arrived this morning. She enjoys passing through here because of the hills. Gives her a thrill.”

“Wait? Are you referring to Harriet Brie?”

“Why yes, sweetie. You know her?”

“More than a little.” Clover mumbled before speaking more clearly. “Thank you. We have to go.“

Melinda winked, “Take good care of him too, would you?”

“I’m betting my life on it.” Clover turned and walked out the door.

Chapter Text

Qrow had to get to the man that could possibly be Clover and quickly.

At the moment with his hands tied in front of him and a noose over his head, he was going to need some help. 

Then a few things followed in quick succession.

Harbinger was thrown in broad sword form in his direction from somewhere in the crowd and embedded in the boards near his feet. Someone had good aim because that was a little close for comfort.

With that distraction, something else was thrown, which knocked out the man responsible for pulling the lever to end his life. How convenient.

Good upper body strength was required to wield Harbinger, so Qrow reached up with his hands, grabbed the rope above his head, and easily loosened the noose and then pulled himself up and out of the rope around his neck. 

Just in the knick of time, as the body of the man who was supposed to pull the lever, fell forward on the lever, dropping the floorboards beneath where his feet had been just moments before. 

Qrow just shook his head. It was always something with his luck.

Qrow held onto the rope above his head. Harbinger was now below him, still embedded in the floorboards that now swung loose. He let go of the noose and landed on Harbinger’s broadside. He felt the wood creak and Harbinger shift, so he quickly jumped down to the ground and slid the rope around his hands against the blade to cut them. He quickly pulled his hands free, grabbed Harbinger and yanked her out of the wood. Then he ran under the Gallows and towards that voice, as fast as his body would take him. He saw a path that would likely get him there and fast, but it was risky. 

He smirked at the thought.

He ran, with Harbinger in his dominant hand, jumped up on top of a few barrels and then on top of a stall, balancing his way across the support beam. This was followed by a jump to put him on top of a building which led to another and another, aiming for the higher ones as he went. 

The risky part was next. 

He transformed Harbinger into shotgun mode, a new feature that Elm showed him earlier, as she stated that an old friend had installed. Qrow made a leap and fired the shotgun, which helped propel him higher and farther. He landed on the higher rooftop and rolled with the momentum, before standing back up and continuing on his path. The thrill was exhilarating. He made more leaps to a few other rooftops before he had to repeat the maneuver. 

But this time it was going to be interesting. He was going to need to fire twice.  

He prepared mentally for what needed to happen and then implemented it into action. Jumped, fired off a round, pulled back on the firing mechanism and fired again. It was working but as he got closer to his target his momentum began to fail. 

Then he was falling. 

Just my luck.

He began to reload so that he could land without injuring himself too badly. Suddenly there was a tug on Harbinger and a cable wrapped around it, with a familiar silver hook catching in the opening. Qrow prepared himself for the jarring pull and gripped Harb's leather grip with both hands. Something he hadn't done since he was a teenager when he was first training with her. 

The pull came but more gently than he had anticipated. He went with the momentum as it pulled him in an arc down and then back up and into the balcony that he had been aiming for, landing with a roll on his knees.

"Impatient as always, I see." a familiar but ragged voice retorted.

Qrow was still gathering his bearings having landed so abruptly after he was pulled sailing through the air. He had even dropped Harbinger.

He looked up to a gruff and ruffle haired looking man. He looked a bit thinner but otherwise, it was definitely Clover. As Qrow stood up, he could recognize him by demeanor and facial expression. 

As he processed that Clover was still alive, his feet unconsciously moved closer. He still had a desire to touch him or at least be in his personal space to make sure he was real. His brain then processed the snarky comment and he decided that returning to his own sarcastic rhetoric would be entertaining.

"Would you prefer I go back down to the gallows and wait to be rescued like a fair maiden?” Qrow fanned as he placed the back of his hand on his forehead and the other on Clover’s hip to maintain his balance. “Oh, my prince, save me." 

"And waste of your talented and amazing acrobatic display? Not a chance. The crowd enjoyed it too.” Clover responded as he took a half step forward and placed a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. Qrow’s body shuddered at the touch, searching for more. “Besides, I have a surprise for you."

"You know how I hate surprises." Qrow moved further into Clover’s personal space, grasping around Clover’s back with his hands. Chests pressed together. He reveled in the reminiscent feeling. This was his darling Clover.

"I think that you're gonna like this one." Clover leaned forward and captured Qrow's lips. It was electric and sweet, especially with the heightened anticipation. Even their little tryst in the storage room couldn't hold a torch to their interest in each other now. Their passion alone made all the difference.

Qrow pulled away. "Are you even gonna give me a chance to breathe?"

"Maybe. But considering how close it came for me to almost losing you, I have no intention of wasting any more time without you in my life."

"What about your duty to the people?"

"If they can't handle me being with you, then fuck them. Someone else can have it. The people can find someone else to shame."

"You gonna sacrifice your title?"

"If they make a big deal about me choosing to be with you, then yes. What better reason than to be with the man that I love?"

Qrow pulled him back for another kiss. In his arms was the man of his dreams willing to drop everything to be with him, just as he was for him. He could tell that this was just the start of their amazing life together.

King James came around the corner to the balcony to find Prince Clover and that rugged bandit in an intimate embrace. He was hoping that their kiss would end quickly but the longer he stood there the more it became clear that they had no intention of ending it on their own. 

He took a deep breath and walked closer to them while intentionally letting his soles of his dress boots click louder than normal. He came to a stop about four feet away. 

Still they continued their very clear make-out session. James slightly berated Clover. This is not how a noble behaves in public. But even if he had said out loud, Clover would have chuckled and shrugged it off. Instead James cleared his throat in hopes to get their attention.

It worked but not without both men grumbling. 

“What could possibly be…Oh” Qrow cut himself off and cleared his throat, as he glanced at Clover. Clover was composing himself, as he ran a hand over his face and through his hair before addressing his cousin and good friend, the King.

“Yes, your majesty. What can I help you with?” Clover asked, as he turned to face the King and bowed, still holding onto one of Qrow’s hands.

“You can tell me what happened to you. And preferably, the short story.”

Clover looked at Qrow and then back at James. “I will do my best, because it is a long story, having started either twenty some years ago or almost four months ago, prior to the death of my father, depending on how you look at it.”

James looked between the two and recognized the joy of being in love and adoration that existed between them. He smiled, slightly at the idea that his dear cousin finally found someone after all these years. He looked forward to their story.

He turned on his heel and led the way to the dais so that he may be comfortable while listening to their tale.

EPILOGUE

Clover gazed out at the sea while standing on the balcony to his bedroom. It was just before dawn. He loved the feeling of the sun on his face first thing in the morning and watching the darkness fall victim to the light was a nice way to look at his life. He would always enjoy watching sunrises and sunsets too. 

But his gaze was drawn to the sound of grumbling behind him.

“Come back to bed. I’m cold.” Qrow sounded muffled through a multitude of blankets piled on and around him, as he waddled towards the balcony.

No matter what emotion or expression that was on Qrow’s face, Clover knew that he loved them all. A caring and considerate soul wrapped in fear and doubt. Now he was trying not to laugh at the sight of Qrow looking like a blanket monster.

He smiled at the idea that this was his life now. Living it the way that he wanted

“It’s been a year.” 

“What has?”

“Since we met.”

“Oh…” Qrow thinks for a moment as he shuffles closer to the balcony. “I suppose you're right. I didn’t really think about it much, seeing as I have you all to myself now.” Snark was second nature to Qrow and Clover wouldn’t change it for the world. “I still can’t believe that I was almost hung by your cousin.”

“I’ll admit, that was a little too close for my comfort.” Clover commented. “Yet it turns out that being a member of the royal family has its benefits. I can just announce your innocence and people actually listen.”

“It’s one of the reasons Ozpin listened to you as well, when you told him about some of the issues that were headed towards Vale and the other kingdoms.” Qrow added. “Knowing the King on a personal level doesn’t hurt.”

“True. But knowing the Royal Guard and who I can trust to help me when I need it was also very helpful. Can’t send private letters with just anyone.”

“I suspect that you made quite the impression on Mel, at least back then, for her to give you Harbinger too.”

“Yeah. She was very concerned and asked me to take care of you. I suspect that she knew exactly who I was when we first met.”

“Not surprised. Her family is very well connected. They may not be in a major city but they have connections to people all over Anima and Sanus.”

“So I learned, after the fact.” Clover sighed and pulled Qrow closer to him and then turned back so that they could both look at the sea. “Do you still keep in touch?”

“On a few of your trips to Atlas I have gone back to visit a number of my favorite taverns to check on how they are doing. I visited Mel shortly after we settled here, when you were summoned back to Atlas.”

“That’s right. I had forgotten.” Clover saw a boat on the horizon. He was happy to see that his gift was well on its way. He turned Qrow around, big poofy blankets and all. “Do you remember what I promised you after I asked you to marry me?”

Qrow thought for a moment. “Drawing a blank at the moment. I just remember a lot of kissing and some fun in bed after I said yes.”

Clover chuckled. “Only you would remember that part more clearly.”

“I can’t help it that you’re good in bed.” Qrow was smirking and Clover matched his expression.

“The books I borrowed helped a lot…so fair enough.” Once Clover stopped chuckling, as he remembered what Qrow was referring to, he kissed him deeply and then pulled back. He stared at Qrow and the intense red eyes that he loved and took a deep breath before he spoke. “I promised you that you wouldn’t have to be away from your family ever again.”

“I have a vague recollection. We’re together and you’re my family. What else could I…unless….” Qrow cut off and went wide eyed as he realized what Clover was talking about. 

Clover turned Qrow around by the waist or what he could call Qrow’s waist through all of the blankets still wrapped around the man.

“You see that boat on the horizon? Should be arriving mid day, with them on board.”

Qrow leaned further over the balcony as he tried to see the boat that Clover described. He swiveled back around, as he let some of the blankets fall down to his shoulders.

“Tai? Summer? Yang? Ruby?” 

“Yes to all of the above.”

Qrow took a quick look back at the water and then back at Clover. He pulled the man into a crushing and passionate kiss. He then let the blankets start to fall off of his shoulders as he grabbed Clover’s hand and dragged him back inside.

“Woah. What’s the rush? I mean, I’m really looking forward to meeting them.” Clover stumped but kept his balance as Qrow pulled him further into their room. “But like I said, they won’t be here for a few hours.”

“Good because I need to repay you before they get here.” Qrow pulled him all the way back to their giant bed, turned and placed one arm over Clover’s shoulder and the other around his waist.

“I don’t need repayment. I love you and you love me. That’s enough.” Clover mirrored Qrow’s hand on his waist and grabbed the hand arm that was over his shoulder, sliding it down so that he could kiss the back of his hand. Qrow watched in awe. Subtle acts of affection always got to him.

“I know...but right now, I want to show you how much you make me happy. Especially since I can’t do anything close to what you have just done for me.” Qrow stated as he leaned in and kissed Clover passionately but slowly.

Clover let Qrow show him for a moment how much this meant to him. Then he pulled away because this next part was important.

“Listen carefully and trust me when I say this: You make me happy by just being here next to me and that is all that I need. Everything else is just a bonus.” Clover explained as he stared lovingly at his soon to be husband.

“Then you’re about to get one hell of a bonus.”

Clover laughed as he let Qrow pull him back onto bed.