The pain still lingered as Sienna made her way through the streets of Mistral. But it was an ache that she could ignore; instead, she focused on weaving through the people, keeping the hood over her ears and hair and the cloak itself wrapped tightly around her body, hiding the stripes that would give her away. She didn't need to be discovered now.
The tail of a black ribbon caught her eye, however. For a moment, she paused, and her ears folded back. She didn't need to be discovered--but if that was who she thought it was...
Making a quick decision, Sienna hurried off after that small glimpse and sure enough, there she was. She maneuvered ahead of the younger huntress to try to catch her attention before diverting into a nearby alley. There, in the darkness, she waited. With luck, she wouldn't be waiting long.
The full moon had come and gone, and still the tower stood in Mistral. Smug satisfaction had lifted Sienna’s spirits when dawn rose on an intact Haven; her usurper had lost, and she hoped it had been in the most humiliating way. Her little hideaway had no television, so she couldn’t know the truth of it, but she was content enough to know that he had failed. That would only make her job easier once she was recovered.
But as several more days passed and there was no sign of Hazel, either, Sienna began to wonder if Salem’s minions had abandoned her. Confirmation came when she woke to find the Seer had gone, likely in search of Hazel. It felt a bit strange, perhaps even a little insulting that she wasn’t worth watching. But perhaps it made sense; if things had collapsed after that night, Sienna wouldn’t have been any use to Salem, so there was no sense in wasting resources on observing her.
Sienna was simultaneously annoyed and intrigued. Annoyed that she meant nothing when once her name struck fear, and intrigued, because a defeat would imply that all that Hazel had told her--that no one could beat Salem--was patently false. Not to mention the strength of those who would have won over her efforts here.
So, left to her own devices, Sienna decided to try to find Salem’s opponents. She would start at Haven itself; no doubt there would be someone there. Though there was no real way to hide her stripes, she did her best with what she had--a long, hooded cloak that enclosed her body. Once she was ready, she left the hideaway in which she’d been staying, and started off toward Haven, keeping to the heavy brush and the trees at the outskirts of the city and the school, as much as she could.
The rest of the night following the assault on Haven was one barely anyone remembered. As adrenaline drained and bruises, cuts and even stab wounds became prominent, all anyone wanted or needed was rest. They had won, but it wasn't an easy win, and anything more could be put off until the morning.
Blake remembered wanting to stay with her team. She had promised she wasn't going anywhere, and she meant to keep that promise, now. So she remembered accompanying them to the house in which they'd been staying--which, to her surprise, she recognized as her aunt Libra's. It was almost a relief to be in familiar territory, even if it had been years since she'd been in the house, and she had no trouble falling asleep. Despite the horrible vision they'd all had, she didn't even dream.
But morning came all too quickly, and Blake was one of the first awake. She wasn't the only one, though; when she came down to the kitchen for breakfast, outside, she spotted that familiar head of golden hair. Her heart skipped a beat, but she brewed both coffee and tea, and brought a mug of each out with her.
"Mind... if I join you?" she asked, a little hesitantly --but with a small, hopeful smile. It had been months since she'd seen Yang, but she hadn't left without a word. She didn't know how much Yang remembered, but she hoped it was enough to know that Blake hadn't abandoned her...
The mountain air at night was chilly for most, but for Blake, who had just come from Menagerie, it was freezing. As she stood beside Ilia, leaning back on the balcony rail and facing the dark house, she occasionally shivered when a breeze picked up, but her coat blocked most of it. Turning her eyes up to the moon, she was hit with a sense of déjà vu, reminded strongly of the night, years ago, they’d spent together on the roof of the White Fang’s Vale headquarters. She was even standing the same way; leaning on the rail, arms crossed, with the wind tugging at her hair and ears.
With that memory came guilt, though, and her ears tilted back. “Ilia...” She paused for a moment. “Are... are you glad it’s over? All of it?” Slowly, she looked to her oldest friend. “The attack, and the White Fang. It’s only been a few days, but the White Fang is all but gone now. Are you... relieved?”
Blake stood at the rail of the Pride, leaning on it and swaying gently with the movement of the ship. It was only her second time on the ship, but the crew remembered her from the Sea Feilong’s attack. They were all grateful, and the first night of the voyage, they’d held a celebration for her and Sapphire. That had been a bit embarrassing, but fortunately, after that, they mostly left her alone.
Which turned to be a good thing, it seemed. One ear tilted back when she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked over to spot Sapphire. She smiled lightly; her fellow feline had become a good friend since they’d met on the voyage down, and she was grateful for the companionship.
“Hey, Sapphire,” she said in greeting, standing a little straighter. “Come to sketch the sunset tonight?”
Haven had been saved; the tower still stood, the relic had been recovered and Salem’s forces had been defeated. Sienna couldn’t help but feel a snide satisfaction at that latter; anyone who sought to assume her cooperation deserved her derision, even the Grimm Queen. But that did mean that her own future was uncertain.
Perhaps that was why she remained on the campus, hidden deep in the shadows of the trees lining the perimeter. The White Fang were still being rounded up by the police, but these were the last of them. The rest of the grounds had already been swept--by faunus with night-vision, no less--so Sienna was confident she wouldn’t be found.
As she watched, though, a flash of white in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Sienna turned her head--and stared with her ears pinned back.
It had been years since last she’d seen Libra Stirling. Once, she might have called the human friend. But now...
Slowly, carefully, Sienna made her way around the perimeter. She moved from branch to branch as silently as she was taught, making her way toward Libra. Sienna knew that she was a teacher here, but... most had been sent away, likely killed by Salem. Had she been called back? Just why was she here... and with Blake and her friends, no less?
Though she had many questions, she stayed hidden. She had no intention of revealing herself just yet. But she remained in the trees, watching carefully. No doubt her answers would come soon...
It had only been several weeks since last Sienna Khan had been taken from the White Fang’s headquarters, but as she slipped inside, past the infrequent patrols and disinterested guards, she realized it felt like years. With Adam gone and the brotherhood in shambles, no one bothered to keep it intact, and Sienna’s heart ached. If she hadn’t had a goal already in mind, she would have snarled at the guards to straighten up and pay attention, to increase the number of patrols, to get more eyes on the perimeter... but now wasn’t the time. Not yet.
With Adam gone, abandoning his followers and leaving them to rot, Sienna was well-poised to retake the ‘Fang. Let Ghira form a new fellowship; her work wasn’t over. And those loyal to her would come to her call again, she knew. That was why she made her way to her throne room, where she ruled the ‘Fang with an iron fist--one that would no longer be bound in velvet. She wasn’t surprised to find it unguarded--after all, there was no leader, yet.
The throne room was empty when Sienna pushed open the doors. Though the torches still burned in their sconces, and though the massive banners bearing her White Fang sigil still swayed from the ceiling, the throne on the dais stood empty. As she slowly made her way down the crimson carpet, she thought she could feel the empty eyes in each wolfshead staring balefully down at her. Why are you here? they seemed to ask.
She paused at the bottom of the steps, looking down. At her feet, there were small stains that darkened the carpet by just a few shades. Her blood. Gods damn him, he never even had it cleaned. She could imagine him leaning back in her throne, smirking that horrible smirk of his each time he saw the bloodstains. The thought summoned her ever-burning rage to the forefront, and with a snarl, she drove Bidbēṣa’s point through the stained carpet and into the stone beneath.
The effort was still exhausting. With a hiss of pain, she pulled her spear free and moved to sit in her throne. The familiar leather creaked beneath her weight and she felt herself relaxing. Here was where she belonged, and here was where--
Movement caught her ears, and they perked atop her head. Frowning, her hand tightened on Bidbēṣa’s shaft, preparing for trouble. But when a familiar silhouette appeared, she blinked. “...Blake.”
“Spare me the lecture, girl.” Sienna stared Yang down, her yellow eyes hard as diamonds. “You believe me to be at fault–rest assured, I was not. I was deceived, as were we all.”
She paused for a moment to sigh. “Not that I should be explaining myself to a teenager, Blake’s partner or not–but I didn’t ignore him. He ignored me, and the punishments I gave him. Then he ran me through and stole the White Fang away from me. So we both have a score to settle.”
