Actions

Work Header

RWBY: Team Rifle (RFFL)

Chapter Text

 

Roberta sat quietly, staring out at the gardens. It had been six months since she’d cut a bloody swath through the festering cesspool of a city known as Roanapur. She sighed contentedly as she watched Fabiola and her young master, Garcia Lovelace clip at the flowering plants. She was a touch saddened that she couldn’t join them.

But the injuries she suffered in her crusade to avenge the death of Diego, Garcia’s father had left her able only to stand for very brief periods of time and to walk no further than a few meters. The loss of her right leg, left arm, right eye and the index and middle finger of her right hand was very much a game finisher for the Bloodhound of Florencia. It did grate on her that she was now confined to the wheelchair she rested in. Tears threatened her eye. She lifted her face to look out at the pair.

Garcia’s bright eyes met hers. The look of love and appreciation on his face was like nothing she’d ever seen before. He was young, but he was strong. He had traveled across the world to save her. She wholly expected to die in that godforsaken Asian jungle. But he hadn’t let her. He had been willing to be a killer, just like her if that was what it took to save her. For that, she would be forever grateful. She would be his in any manner he wished of her. If, when the boy got older…she blushed as she smiled and averted her eyes.

The sharp ring of the doorbell caught her attention. Though she couldn’t stand or walk, she was still a part of the household. Master Garcia still allowed her some duties. It was out of respect and not pity, she knew. She backed her wheelchair away from the large open glass door and rolled quickly over to the double doors. With considerable effort, she rose to her feet and peered with her one good eye, looked through the peephole.

She furrowed her brow and limped back, dropping into her wheelchair. She gripped the handle and pulled the door open, rolling backward. “Greetings.” She said, politely. “Welcome to Lovelace Manor.”

He stepped in and gave her a warm smile. “Thank you.” He said, bowing. “Allow me.” He said, taking the door and gently closing it.

Roberta’s single eye swept over him like a laser. Though she no longer fought, she still analyzed everything and everyone as though they were a threat. It was a habit, she was sure that would die hard, if at all. He was big, simply put. He easily topped six and a half feet and she figured he would easily crest the two hundred and fifty pound mark. Both the uniform he wore and the way the man moved marked him as advanced military, though what country or branch, she couldn’t guess. And that put her on edge. “Are you seeking the young master?” She asked him, trying very hard to maintain her politeness.

“I am actually hoping to speak with both you and your Master if possible.” He offered his right hand to her. “I’m General James Ironwood.”

She took his hand, taking a bit of comfort in the strength of his handshake. She was, however a little taken aback that his hand seemed to be solid as steel. “I am…”

“Roberta Cisneros.” He said, nodding. “I know.” As her face turned hard, he gave her a disarming smile. “You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Cisneros. It isn’t your far from laudable past I’m interested in. I’m here to speak with the loving and caring woman you are, not the beast you were.”

Roberta wasn’t sure why, but that made her feel a lot better.

“Roberta?” Garcia asked, as he moved into the room with Fabiola in tow. “Ah, we have a guest.” The boy stepped up and offered his hand to the man.

“Master Garcia Fernando Lovelace, head of the Lovelace Family.” Roberta said, motioning to the boy. “This is General James Ironwood.”

“General.” Garcia said, nodding to the man and shaking his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Master Lovelace.” James returned. “You have a very lovely home.” He then looked to Fabiola and Roberta. “And very fine taste.” Both women blushed at the attention.

“Thank you, General. And please, call me Garcia.” He motioned toward the gardens. “It is a fine day. Let us speak outside.” He looked to Fabiola. “Refreshment please, Fabiola?”

The girl curtsied happily and turned to carry out her duties. Garcia immediately took hold of the back of Roberta’s wheelchair and began pushing her out as the General fell in step beside them. “What brings you so far from home, General Ironwood?”

“I’ve come with a proposal for you, Garcia. You and your lovely maid, here.”

Garcia slid Roberta’s chair up to the table and took a seat beside her. Ironwood sat opposite him and rested his hands on the polished wooden surface. “What manner of proposal, General?” The boy asked.

“I suppose I will come right out and say it.” He looked to Roberta. “I know what you used to be.” He lifted a hand to forestall the pair of them. “I am not interested in reopening old wounds. Rest assured, I know how dangerous such things can be.”

“Then you know she isn’t that person anymore.” Garcia said, somewhat defensively. He rested a protective and possessive hand on the woman’s arm.

Ironwood stared deeply into Roberta’s single eye. “He is young.” He said to the woman. “Young and naïve, isn’t he?” Roberta said nothing. But her thousand yard stare spoke volumes. Ironwood nodded and turned to Garcia. “Your beautiful maid and I share a lot in common. We were both soldiers, killers for the cause.” He motioned to himself. “I continued my service, while Roberta got out when she could. Out of the pair us…” He gave the pair a soft smile. “She was the intelligent one.”

“What do you want, General Ironwood?” Roberta finally asked. Fabiola came with a tray of tea. She politely poured a cup for each of them. She then stepped over and stood behind Garcia and Roberta. Ironwood didn’t miss the way the girl moved. It was obvious to anyone with a trained eye that she was far more than just a maid.

Boy’s smart, James thought to himself. Surrounding himself with pretty girls puts everyone at ease. “I’m offering you a chance to be whole again, Miss Cisneros.”

“What do you mean?” Garcia asked him.

He took a sip of the tea and rose to his feet. “Once upon a time, Roberta Cisneros was dubbed the Bloodhound of Florencia. She was one of the most feared and respected fighting women on the planet.” He slowly began unbuttoning his uniform. “It is no secret that she fell in with the Lovelace family and became your most trusted friend and bodyguard. Kings and Queens, Presidents and Prime Ministers could be so lucky as to have a guardian angel possessing half of this woman’s skill.”

“As my young master said…” Roberta offered, her tone filled with sadness. “I am not that person anymore.”

“No, Roberta, you are not.” Ironwood said. “Nor should you ever be. The Bloodhound, that is.” He pulled the shirt from his chest and lay it on the table, revealing his torso. The display caused all of their eyes to go wide. “But the loving and dedicated protector of the Lovelace family? That is a role that is far more honorable. And that is a role that I am willing to help you regain.”

Roberta, Garcia and Fabiola stared in open amazement. The right side of the man’s upper body was as gleaming steel. His right arm matched the silver sheen of his chest. “The alterations do not stop there.” He said, tapping his right leg. He moved about and offered his arm to Roberta. She tentatively reached out, running her fingers along the metal. “I can rebuild you, Roberta. I can make you what you were before. I can give you your life back.”

Roberta looked up at him. She then slowly turned to Garcia. He immediately saw something that he hadn’t seen in her eyes in a long time; hope. The boy, however was a very practical young man. “How is this even possible?” He asked, likewise touching the man’s metallic limb.

“The people of my country have made some rather significant advancements as you can see. I believe Roberta can benefit from these same advances.”

“At what cost?” Fabiola asked. She immediately bit her lip. “Sorry, Master Garcia.”

“No, you raise a valid concern, Fabiola.” Garcia said to her. “Nothing is free, General Ironwood. My father taught me that. What is the cost for this?”

He lifted his uniform and began buttoning it. “You are a sharp young man. I can see your family is in safe hands.” He retook his seat. “It is no secret that Roberta possesses quite a skill set. It is that experience I wish to avail myself of. Her training is invaluable. I would like to… hire her, you could say.” He again lifted his hand. “Not as an assassin or anything that unsavory. A colleague of mine oversees an Academy that trains young individuals that deal with…inhuman threats.” He motioned to Roberta. “I would like her to attend this Academy, adding to what she already knows to help deal with some…problems we will soon be facing.”

All three of them furrowed their brows. “You wish me to go to school?” Roberta asked. “I’m almost forty.”

James shook his head. “You are still a young woman, Roberta. And experience such as yours is a gift. What you could pass on, what you could accomplish…”

She turned to Garcia. “How long is this…Academy?”

“Four years.” Ironwood offered. “You give four years to the academy and one year to me, using what you’ve learned. In exchange for that, I’ll give you your body back.”

“That’s five years, Roberta.” Garcia said, taking her hand. “That’s not so long.”

“But young Master…” She reached up and touched his cheek. She then saw her mutilated hand and tried to quickly pull it away, but he caught it.

“I think you should go.” Garcia said. “This, what happened to you is killing you, Roberta.” He said, softly. “I know you don’t feel…” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You want to be what you were. You want to be able to protect me again. I know you do.” He rose to his feet and looked down at her. He leaned in and threw his arms about her, his lips close to her ear. “I know you want to be strong for me. And I want you to be happy.” He drew back and looked at her. “You need this, Roberta. You know you do.”

Ironwood watched the display. He could see the love the pair shared. Though Garcia was young, he had had to grow up rather quickly. He was forced to become a man before his time. It was sad in a way, but it was a situation he knew very well.

Roberta stared at Garcia. “Will you…?” She bit her trembling lip.

“Yes.” He said, leaning down and kissing her lightly. “I’ll wait for you.”

The pair stared into each other’s eyes. Finally, Roberta nodded. She turned to Ironwood. “You give me your word that you can make me what I was?”

“Better.” He said to her. He looked to Garcia. “She’ll return to you, you have my word.”

Garcia offered his hand. “Roberta is very dear to us, General. I appreciate what you’re doing.”

“And when she returns to you, she’ll be the protector you need her to be.” Ironwood said. “That’s a promise.” He moved over and effortlessly lifted Roberta from the wheelchair, holding her close. “Come, Roberta. Your future awaits.” A swirling black and red portal suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Before anyone could voice protest…the pair was gone.

“What was that, young Master?” Fabiola asked in surprise.

“I don’t know.” Garcia said. “But I trust him. And I trust in Roberta.” He looked to his younger maid. “We have to.” Fabiola nodded. Something told her that they’d see Roberta again.

 

~~~

 

Faith stalked through the streets of Sunnydale. Her face was a mask of grim determination. She clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles cracked and her joints almost ached. Her emotions were at war with themselves. She was scared, angry, disgusted, tired…

She didn’t notice the subtle flash behind her. And she was caught completely by surprise when she heard his calm, pleasant voice. “You seem to be in a bit of a hurry.”

“Gah!” Faith shouted, jumping away from the man. “Who the fuck are you?”

He was extremely tall, with shaggy gray hair, a lean build and a pair of friendly caramel brown eyes. He looked rather dapper in his dark suit, hunter green slacks and small wire rim shades. He carried with him a plain, but fine quality walking stick and, oddly enough, a porcelain mug with a crossed axe emblem emblazoned on its glossy surface. “Forgive me. I am Ozpin. Headmaster of Beacon Academy.”

Faith furrowed her brow. “Beacon Academy? What the hell is that?”

He gave her a disarming and cheerful smile. “It’s a school of combat training.” He offered her. “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it. It’s…not entirely local.”

“Okay.” She said, crossing her arms. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

“It doesn’t.” He said, shaking his head, taking a sip of his beverage. “At least, not yet.”

“And…what is that supposed to mean?” Faith asked him.

“Let’s just say, I’m a man that can recognize potential when I see it.”

“Look, Ostrich or whatever your name is…” Faith said, backing away from him.

He gave her a chuckle but didn’t correct her.

“I’ve got shit to do and places to be, so if you’ll excuse me…” She turned on her heel.

“What did you plan to do once you confronted him?” Ozpin asked. She stopped walking, but didn’t face him. “His vampire underlings made an attempt on you and your fellow slayers’ life. No surprise they failed. They were, after all, your natural sworn enemies.” He smiled as she slowly turned to regard him. “And you are very effective at what you do.”

She stormed up to him, standing chest to chest with him. “Start talking.” She growled. “Before I get impatient.”

“You are Faith Lehane, the Vampire Slayer. A very gifted girl from…Boston, if memory serves. I know quite a bit about you.” His eyes were suddenly filled with sorrow. “My deepest apologies for what befell your Watcher Diana. Though your time together was brief, I understand you cared very deeply for her.”

“How do you know…?”

“Someone in my line of work knows quite a bit, Faith. It’s my job to know.” He said to her. “I came to offer you a chance. A chance to be everything you were meant to be. To see Diana Dormer’s vision for you realized. With what you can learn at my academy, that vision can be a reality. You just have to be willing to take the first steps.”

Faith stared at him. She wasn’t sure what it was about the old coot, but something made her want to trust him. And yet… “How do I know I can trust you?”

He gave her a smile. “Short answer?” He sipped from his mug and shook his head. “You don’t.”

Faith continued to stare at him for a moment. She then gave him a smirk. “Good answer.” She sighed heavily. “But I need to do what I’m doing. I need to finish what I started.”

“What exactly is that?” He asked her.

“The Mayor of this town.” Faith said, hugging herself. “He’s bad news. He’s…there’s something off about him.”

“He’s immortal,” Ozpin said, giving her a nod. “I know.”

“I think I was planning on getting inside his organization. Try and find a way to stop him.”

“That isn’t what would have happened, Faith.” He said to her. “Walk with me.” He began making toward city hall.

“What do you mean, that isn’t what would have happened?” She asked him. “What are you drinking, anyway? Smells like hot chocolate.”

He lowered the mug for her to see. “Mint chocolate truffle, to be exact.” He said to her.

She sniffed it and nodded. “That’s the good stuff.”

“Indeed it is.” He said. “And what I meant was that you aren’t in the proper mindset to wage the kind of mental and emotional war this man is. He would have manipulated you and turned you on your friends and compatriots.” Ozpin looked at her. “He would have turned you to his cause.”

“I can take care of myself.” Faith said, indignant.

“Against physical foes, absolutely. That most certainly cannot be argued. But think back to Gwendolyn Post. She had you and your blonde companion at each other’s throats.” Faith looked at him in surprise. “She knew you. She read your emotions, knew how to drive the wedge between you and those you saw as allies. This man is a great deal older, wiser and more crafty than Miss Post. He has been at this a very long time.”

“So…what should I do?” Faith asked him. She didn’t like the fact that he was able to point out something that she hadn’t even thought about.

“Not you, dear. We.” Ozpin said. “I’ve dealt with much in my time.”

“Just how old are you, anyway?” Faith asked him, point blank.

“A lady never reveals her age,” Ozpin said, giving her a smirk.

Faith couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hot damn. I’m starting to like you.”

“I’m going to help you solve this issue,” Ozpin said. “As a token of trust.”

“What are you gonna do?” She asked.

“You’ll see.” He offered to her. Curiously, she followed beside him. She asked him about his academy and where it was.

“Better for me to show you.” He said to her. “But I promise you that you will want for nothing while you are there. And what you learn will not only help me, but help you as well. When you graduate, if you agree to come with me, what you’ve seen, what you’ve done will have been beyond your wildest imagination.”

“I don’t know. I can imagine quite a bit.” Faith said to him.

He patted her lightly on the back. “I’m sure you can, Faith.”

They arrived soon after at Sunnydale City Hall. Silently, they made their way to the Mayor’s office. They were at the door when it opened, revealing Mayor Richard Wilkins III. His eyes quickly swept over her and up into the face of the tall gray-haired man beside her.

“You sent your boy to kill me.” Faith said, her glare doing nothing to intimidate him. His eyes again flicked to Ozpin as he took a sip from his mug. The man had a somewhat bemused expression on his face. As if he was aware of a joke none of the rest of them were in on.

Mayor Wilkins looked back at Faith. “That’s right, I did.”

“He’s dust.” She said, snidely.

“I thought he might be. What with you standing here and all.” He said in return.

Faith wasn’t sure what to say to his nonchalance. After a moment, she smirked at him. “Didn’t think I might take exception to that?”

“I never really thought about it.” He said, shrugging.

Ozpin decided to pipe in. “Given that you’re immortal and invulnerable for the next, what is it, hundred days?” He said, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. “Then you get to, what was it? Ah, yes. Then you ascend. Becoming some demon or other.” He enjoyed the look on Richard’s face.

“And how did you know that?” The Mayor asked. The was a slight amount of fear shaking his tone.

“Because he’s smarter than you.” Faith said, grinning. “Tell him what you plan to do about it, Oz.”

The Headmaster chuckled. He simply tapped his cane on the ground, causing a sharp green flash to cascade through the room. “Just that.” He said, calmly. “Faith? If you would be so kind as to do what it is you do best?”

“What just happened?” Faith asked, looking up at Ozpin.

“That is a very good question,” Richard asked. He quickly fell to the floor as Ozpin rapped him across the side of his head with the cane. Blood began pooling in the Mayor’s hair.

“Call it…magic.” Ozpin said. “Until you learn otherwise, it’s as good an explanation as any. I altered the time within his form. According to the spell he cast upon himself to gain immortality, it’s been one hundred…and one days.” He pointed with his cane. “He is mortal.” He turned to Faith. “And he had planned to kill every graduating student of the local High School to become a demon.”

“Holy shit.” Faith said. She turned to the Mayor. “Seriously?”

“I don’t suppose denying it is going to spare my life, is it?” He asked, getting to his hands and knees.

Faith ran over and grabbed the letter opener from his desk. “No, you son of a bitch. It won’t.” She jammed the blade down into the back of his skull. Mayor Wilkins dropped to the floor, dead. She staggered back against the desk. For several seconds, she looked at his corpse. Suddenly, the feeling of dread that filled her when Finch had died came racing back in. “Oh, god.”

“Don’t worry,” Ozpin said, stepping up to her. “You did a good thing, here. This man was as evil as evil gets. And he wasn’t entirely human.”

“He…he wasn’t?” Faith asked.

Ozpin shook his head. He moved over to a shelf and pulled a photo album free. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. By proxy, I began watching him as well.” He flipped it open and stopped at a photo from Sunnydale’s founding. “Look here.” He said, pointing.

Faith leaned over to stare at the shot. She could see Richard Wilkins, the Mayor of the small frontier town smiling at the camera. The resemblance was uncanny. “Is this?” She looked at Ozpin.

“It is.” He said, nodding. “Through supernatural means, he was able to extend his life.”

“So…I was doing the right thing.” Faith said.

“You were,” Ozpin said. “Have you come to a decision?” He leaned against the desk. “I’ll not force you to come to Beacon, but I would be overjoyed if you would.”

Faith looked around and ran her fingers through her hair. “Sure.” She said, looking back to him. “It’s not like I have anything here.”

“Good,” Ozpin said, smiling. He pointed his cane and made a circular motion. “Then let us see to your future.”

A shimmering green portal appeared a few feet from them. He took his cup in his left hand, freeing his right. He offered it to Faith. She blew out a breath and took it. Together, they walked through the portal…and into the world of Remnant.

 

~~~

 

Fang Oerba juggled the bag, her motorcycle helmet and the large burrito as she put the key into the lock on her front door and pushed it open. She stepped in and kicked it closed, tossing her keys into the hubcap on her credenza, setting her helmet down beside it and carrying her bag into her apartment’s kitchen. She set it on her counter and took another bite of the burrito she’d grabbed for dinner.

She put away her groceries and turned with a soda in hand toward her living room. She made it out of the kitchen when she stopped.

Standing in the center of her living room was a rather peculiar sight. She was tall, perhaps Fang’s own height. At least she would be if it weren’t for the heels she was wearing. With them, she had a couple inches on the woman. Her long hair was much like Fang’s, jet black in color and layered almost like feathers. But the woman’s locks easily reached her bottom. The red outfit she was wearing hugged her curves and showed just what kind of shape she was in. What skin she could see was pale as could be.

Fang also noticed the rather ornate sword hilt and large sheath on the woman’s hip. Her eyes lifted as she saw the woman slowly reach up to take the white mask she was wearing from her face. What it revealed shocked Fang. The woman was stunning. Her face had the luster of youth, prompting Fang to believe she might very well be in her late teens, if not very, very early twenties. What made her doubt, however was the way the woman carried herself. She was a veteran of many a fight, this one. Deep lavender eyes regarded her.

“Somethin’ I can do for you?” Fang asked in her Australian accent. “An’ more to the point, care to tell me what you’re doin’ in my apartment?”

Without a word, the woman reached behind her back and pulled something out that Fang recognized. For the past couple of years when she slept, she’d been haunted by dreams, visions of a life previously lived.

She stood upon the plains of an alien world, filled with strange creatures, beautiful and sometimes terrifying flora and fauna. The endless blue skies above her, and some man-made satellite above her, housing…something she couldn’t remember. Viper’s nest she told herself, though she had no idea where she got that inclination. She herself always looked the same. She was a hunter, draped in a blue and white sari, clutching…

Sometimes the dreams seemed so real. They were so vivid that she could have sworn they were memories.

And the red bladed three piece rod the woman presented was a constant fixture. “Kain’s Lance,” Fang whispered softly to herself. She’d spoken the name of the weapon hundreds of times in her sleep. “Where did you get that?” Fang asked her.

Again, the raven haired woman said nothing. She merely held it out for Fang to take. She reached out and tentatively touched her fingers to the cool metal. As soon as she did, all of what she’d dreamed came rushing back to her. A life she’d lived before, all the pain, all the joy, all the failure, all the triumph came swirling to crash over her mind.

Fang Oerba, San Francisco Motorcycle Patrol Officer was immediately brushed aside for her old self her old name. “Oerba Yun Fang.” She said to herself. She held the weapon in her hand and quickly slid the rod together, forming a long crimson pole. She touched a catch and four blades, two to an end extended. In a dazzling display, Fang spun the pole about with expert precision. “Hello old friend.” She said, caressing the cold steel.

“This is who you were meant to be.” The woman finally offered. Her voice was rich and had a sort of smoky quality.

Fang looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“I’m Raven Branwen.” The woman offered her hand. “From Remnant.”

Fang’s eyes grew wide. “Did you say Remnant?” As Raven nodded, Fang shook her head. “Can’t be. Remnant is a myth.”

“Every myth contains a grain of truth, Fang. You of all people should know that.” Raven offered.

 “Why are you here?” Fang asked her.

“Because this world is wasted on you,” Raven said, stepping up to her. In a flash, she drew her sword and struck at Fang.

Her sword rang harmlessly off of the red lance Fang held. In a previous life, she was a warrior nearly without equal. She’d faced down monsters, mechanical horrors and even gods. So it was no surprise that she could field this woman’s strike. Granted, she had to offer credit where credit was due. Raven was very, very fast. She reminded Fang of someone…

“You weren’t meant for this world. You were meant for something far more dangerous. Far more…challenging. Remnant is real. And she’s waiting for you, Fang. Come with me and get back to what you were. What you should be.”

“How do you know me?” Fang asked her. “And why should I trust you?”

“I know you because I’m just like you.” Raven said. “I could never be satisfied with a mundane life.” She motioned around. “You’ve never been happy here, but you can’t explain why. You’ve always had dreams of your old life, you just never knew what they meant. You were meant for war. For the fight. You do yourself a disservice by not living as you were destined to.”

“Still doesn’t explain why I should trust you,” Fang said, leaning on her lance.

“I can tell you to till I’m blue in the face. You need to decide for yourself.” Raven crossed her arms. “I can only show you the door and open it for you.” She spun and slashed at the air with her blade. A dark portal appeared in the air. “You have to walk through it. If you come to Remnant, you can be trained to harness all of your power. You can get back what you lost when you were forced into this…” Raven motioned to her form. “Shell you’ve been forced to live with.” She shrugged and turned to the portal. “Choice is yours. Return to being Fang Oerba, human Police Officer, or regain your name, Oerba Yun Fang.”

Fang watched the woman disappear. She looked at the lance and back to the portal. She cast one last look about the dreary apartment…and rushed through, toward what she hoped would be a new lease on her old life.

 

~~~    

 

The southern Scotland scenery flew past the train. Luna sat with her head in her hand staring out the window. She sighed heavily and looked down at herself. Her shoes were tattered, her knee length skirt was torn, her sweater was ripped in several places and her robes, which lay across the seat beside her was threadbare. All of it was due to the rather intense fight she’d taken part in just a few days prior. Her physical wounds were healing nicely. She still sported a rather significant bruise on her cheek and a cut above her left eye.

All in all, she hadn’t really suffered that badly at the hands of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. “Not as badly as some.” She remarked to the emptiness of the cabin she was currently riding in. She tried futilely to smooth her outfit, but quickly understood the pointlessness of it and sighed, turning back to the passing countryside.

A rather bright flash erupted into the compartment. She turned from the window to the rather comely blonde woman that appeared out of nowhere in the seat across from her.

She was the very picture of propriety and elegance, sitting as she was with her fingers interlaced and resting on her crossed knees. Her face carried a warm smile, but Luna could tell that she could just as easily wear a rather significant scowl, should the situation call for it. Her eyes were a very bright shade of emerald green and caught the sunlight as the train raced along. Her white blouse was clean and crisply pressed as was the mid-thigh length black skirt she wore. Her knee high boots sported a nice four inch heel and were polished to a high mirror shine. And Luna didn’t miss the fact that the woman was rather well endowed. “Hello.” Luna said to her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Lovegood.” She offered her hand to the girl. “I’m Glynda Goodwitch. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Luna took her hand without hesitation. “Likewise, Miss Goodwitch. How are you doing today?”

Glynda smiled brighter. “I am very well, thank you.” She sat back and relaxed. “How are you feeling, dear girl? I’m given to understand you’ve had a rather trying time over the past few weeks.”

“It has been rather stressful.” Luna agreed, nodding. “But with friends, it wasn’t so bad.”

“A positive outlook in the worst of situations. I admire that.” Glynda said.

“How is it you know who I am?” Luna asked her.

“You came to my attention a short time ago. Since then, I’ve been doing some digging about you. It would seem you’re quite the gifted witch. More so, one would be led to believe than your current age and…educational level would attest to.”

“I’ve always been a rather quick study,” Luna said, simply. “I enjoy magic.”

“I can tell.” Glynda returned. “If I might be so bold to ask, what are you intentions now?”

Luna shrugged. “I still have a year of Hogwarts before I can graduate.”

“Did you plan to attend your final year?”

Luna shrugged again. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Perhaps I can suggest an alternative,” Glynda said to her. “I am Deputy Headmistress of a rather prestigious academy, not unlike Hogwarts.”

“Where?” Luna asked, curiously.

“It’s…not entirely local,” Glynda said, happily. “But I think someone of your gifts and abilities would do rather well.”

“Is it in a different dimension or something?” Luna asked. “I’ve read books about alternative realities and different dimensions. Always wanted to see one.”

Glynda couldn’t help but smile brightly. “You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”

Luna shook her head. “No.” She admitted. “But I knew the moment that you got here that I could trust you and that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I would never,” Glynda said to her. “Beacon Academy trains boys and girls to become what are known as Huntsmen and Huntresses. Our world is overrun with creatures known as Grimm.”

“And Beacon teaches people to fight these…Grimm?” Luna asked.

“Exactly.”

“Sounds exciting,” Luna said. “I just fought dark wizards. It would be nice to fight with something that isn’t going to use magic against me.”

“So you wish to come to Beacon?” Glynda asked, making sure she understood the girl. “Bear in mind, it’s going to four very long and arduous years. The training isn’t easy and the challenges are many.”

“I have nothing better to do,” Luna said, giving a noncommittal shrug. “And the chance to see another world sounds interesting.”

Glynda stood and straightened her skirt. “Then my dear Miss Lovegood,” She pulled her riding crop from her belt and flicked it at the door. A shimmering blue oval appeared. “Your future awaits.”

“Can I bring my trunk?” Luna asked. “I would like my things if that’s alright.”

Glynda pointed her crop at the large parcel.  It rose into the air and sailed through the doorway. “Of course, dear.” She offered her hand to the young blonde.

Luna took it and rose to her feet. “This sounds very exciting.” She said as she followed Glynda through the doorway.