Four and Twenty Black Birds

A RWBY Fic

By Kraven Ergeist

Chapter 1

After he quit teaching, Qrow didn't make a habit of staying in one place for too long. He didn't have a lot of worldly possessions to his name – the clothes on his back, a few family keepsakes, and of course his Huntsman weapon. So it was very easy for him to pick up and leave when Ozpin asked him to track down leads on the Spring Maiden in kingdoms far afield. His leads had been taking him from village to village all across Anima, giving the bandit tribes a wide berth, while using the kingdom of Mistral as a base of operations. He kept to the lower reaches, out of sight of the headmaster at Haven Academy. It wasn't that Qrow didn't particularly trust Professor Lionheart, it was that he didn't particularly trust anyone at the moment. Besides, if the Spring Maiden were foolish enough to hide somewhere in the kingdom, Qrow thought that she'd at least pick somewhere out of sight.

He should have known better than to answer the door that night. He hadn't been staying in the slums of Mistral for long, barely a week, but already word seemed to have gotten around that there was a Huntsman in their midst. Already he had gotten inquiries from interested parties, asking him to look into some quarrelsome matter or another. He'd taken a few Grimm related cases to secure room and board, but he avoided anything that put him into prolonged contact with anyone in the kingdom on whom his notorious bad luck might rub off.

So when he opened the door after the third knock, he shouldn't have been surprised to see the disgruntled looking face of yet another slum dweller he didn't recognize.

"Yeah?" Qrow asked, giving the man an unamused scowl. He was on about his third drink of the night, and wasn't keen on being interrupted.

The slum dweller was a young man, barely in his twenties, wearing traveler's clothes, a beanie over his head and a sour expression on his face. He looked about as impressed with the Qrow as he was, eying up the Huntsman as though he were a piece of dung clinging to his shoe.

"Are you Qrow?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

Qrow felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That was the first time anyone in this kingdom had used his name. He hadn't given it to anyone on any of the jobs he'd done around town. No one had made much of a fuss about it, not even and the kindly inn-keeper who'd been letting him stay at her inn, free of charge for his services.

"I might be," Qrow said brusquely, cautiously moving his hand to hilt of his weapon. "Who's…?"

Qrow was interrupted when the man shoved a small envelope unceremoniously into his face. He gave the man a suspicious look, eying the tiny parcel dubiously.

"What?" Qrow blinked at the imposition.

"Just take it, man," the man said, clearly incensed. "I had to pay thirty lien just to catch a ride down here."

Qrow narrowed his eyebrow at the young man's petulant attitude, before finally accepting the envelope with an annoyed huff. He turned it over in his hands, finding it unlabeled and unsealed, seemingly thrown together in haste. Inside was a piece of paper, old and yellowed by time, which looked like it had been crumpled and uncrumpled before being neatly folded so it could fit into the envelope.

He withdrew the paper to find a hand-written message scrawled over the inside.

Dear Qrow,

I know you've probably forgotten all about me. Our time together was great fun, if fleeting. I wasn't surprised on the day you left, though I would be lying if I said that I was not sad to see you go.

Qrow narrowed his eyes suspiciously, breaking off from reading to look up at the messenger boy.

"Hey, what's this all…?" he started.

He stopped.

The messenger was gone. In his place was a little girl, maybe eight or ten years old, though it was difficult to tell given how gaunt she looked. She had dark hair and a pale smudged face, wore a threadbare black and white dress, and a pair of old slippers that were covered in dirt. In her arms, she carried an equally mottled rag doll, which she kept clutched tightly to her chest in a protective manner. Her gaze was fixed down at the floor, though she eventually did risk a peek up at him through her black bangs, revealing a pair of dark gray eyes.

Qrow drew in his breath.

"Umm…" he stammered, completely taken aback.

The girl's gaze returned to the floor, and she clutched her rag doll a little tighter in her arms.

Qrow stared at the girl for a moment longer, before sticking his head out the door to find the errand boy making his way down the hallway away from his room.

"Hey!" Qrow called out, ignoring the tiny girl as she shied away from him. "Who's the kid?"

The messenger boy didn't even turn around.

"Your problem now, man," he called out, hands in his pockets, clearly uninterested in getting any more involved. "My job's done here."

Qrow bristled at the young man's cavalier attitude. He was tempted to march on after him to give him a piece of his mind, but hesitated when he remembered the tiny girl was currently standing unattended outside his open door.

Massaging a headache, Qrow let out a low angry growl as she stomped back into the entryway of his room, returning his gaze to the letter. Clearly he'd missed something important.

I'm sorry I never wrote to you. I'm sorry about a lot of things. I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything. You have your own life to live, and I have mine, and my little girl and I have been living happily on our own all these years. But I'm afraid I've run out of time…

A feeling of dread washed over Qrow as suspicion began to take hold. His eyes darted down to the footer of the letter to find the name of its author.

His arm hung limp at his side.

"Noire…" he breathed.

All at once, the memories came flooding back to him. Before Ozpin had stepped in and changed their lives forever. Had it been ten years already? Team STRQ had been one of the finest Huntsman teams around. Fresh out of the academy, Qrow had been a young and impetuous fighter, full of potential and a yearning for adventure, and he and his team had traveled the world of Remnant in search of that adventure.

He had known even back then that, with his semblance, it would be a bad idea for him to settle down the way Tai and Summer eventually had. He would never wish to saddle anyone with his luck, no matter how lonely it got. But then one day, while on a mission, a raven haired, Mistrali-born girl had come into his life, and he had all but forgotten any such resolve. He had taken a bad hit during a fight with some Deathstalkers. After vanquishing the Grimm, he had come limping to a small, family run medical clinic in Mistral where Noire worked as a nurse. She had tended to his wounds, offered him her compassion, and in the process, had managed to steal his heart.

Noire had been pale, thin and dark haired. When she wasn't in her nurse's uniform, she usually wore black, gothic attire to compliment her ashen complexion. Despite her pallid features, however, she had been a spritely young woman, vibrant and full of life. She often struggled with her health, having suffered from anemia since she was a baby. But she had a great sense of humor about it, and kept her spirits raised around others, especially Qrow. She saw her condition as a challenge to be overcome rather than a burden to be borne, and in spite of all her health problems, she always managed to keep a smile on her face, and somehow found a way to make him laugh with her.

Qrow had known, deep down inside, that there would never be a future for them together, not when there was so much that could go wrong with her health. She was no Huntress, so he reasoned that she would be in no danger from him while he was away on missions, but he knew full well that he was simply making excuses. When a bad cut from a kitchen knife had ended up with her in a hospital bed, Qrow had known that it was time for him to go. Only then would his bad luck not be a danger to Noire.

Evidently, his bad luck had stuck around.

He read through the rest of the letter, checking the back for anything he might have missed. The message only confirmed his fear. Noire was gone. The woman he'd known years ago was dead. All that remained was this lonely, scared, hungry little girl who stood before him, with no one left to care for her but the man least qualified to do so.

Fate was a cruel mistress indeed.

"Hey," he said, sitting down on his haunches in front of the little girl. "I'm really sorry about your mother, kid. She was a good woman. Much better than I ever deserved."

The tiny child said nothing. She only continued to clutch her rag doll to her chest, peeking up at him from behind her black bangs. She looked so much like her mother, the same dark hair and pale complexion, the same dark eyes. She couldn't have been much older than his niece Ruby was now. So young and already so alone.

By the gods, he never should have gotten involved in Noire's life.

"What's your name, kid?" Qrow asked, biting back his bitterness. "Your mother's letter didn't say."

The little girl glanced at him again, a terrified look on her face as she played with hem of her black and white dress. She didn't seem terribly inclined to reply.

"Can you understand me?" he asked, dubiously.

She slowly nodded her head once, but said nothing else, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. She clearly didn't trust him yet. Of course – what reason would she have to trust him? Growing up in the slums of Mistral had probably been a harsh life. Besides her own mother, it was unlikely that the girl had anyone she could trust.

"Look, it's alright," the Huntsman assured her, placing a hand on his chest. "My name is Qrow. I'm a Hunstman. I was…well…I knew your mother, a long time ago, back before you were born. I…"

Qrow felt himself stumbling, unable to bring himself to put the girl's predicament into words. Noire had been purposefully vague in her letter about some of the finer details, leaving him to fill in the gaps himself. He didn't know for sure whether the child was his or not. But the truth was, it didn't really matter. Whoever this girl was, she had nowhere else to go. Qrow was the only one she had to depend on. As a man, and as a Huntsman, he needed to take responsibility.

"Look, I don't know if I can be the one to take care of you," he admitted, truthfully. "I mean, even if I wasn't a Hunstman, my…well, I'm not the sort of person you want to be spending your time around. But I'll do whatever I can to help you, okay? I'll make sure whatever happens-"

He trailed off, however, when the girl's stomach suddenly let out a rather expressive growl.

Qrow sighed in defeat as the child put her hand over her belly, an unhappy expression on her face. Words didn't seem to be getting through to her, but Qrow had a feeling he knew something else that might.

"Come on inside," he said, standing back up to his feet as he turned and strode back into his room. "Let's get you something to eat. I don't have much, but…"

The room was simple, a single bad with a wooden table and two chairs, and a door leading to a dingy bathroom in the corner. As Qrow sat at the table, the girl still seemed hesitant to follow himself inside. Her eyes widened, however, when he reached into a satchel on the table and pulled out a granola bar.

Qrow smiled tenderly as he held out the snack bar to the little girl. Her grip on the rag doll loosened and she swallowed visibly. Her eyes, which had once been glued to the floor, were now locked on the granola bar, and she was licking her lips as she began salivating, clearly famished.

"Go on," Qrow said, offering it to her. "Take it. It's yours."

She hesitated a moment longer before she rushed into the room, grabbing the granola bar from his hands and tearing into it with all the ravenous hunger of a starving animal.

"Whoa, easy there," Qrow gently admonished with a laugh. "At least take off the wrapper."

It took all of thirty seconds for the granola bar to disappear entirely, before the girl was left licking her lips, her face covered with crumbs, a foil wrapper left crumpled on the table. Before long, she was looking back at Qrow with a hopeful expression on her face, as if expecting another.

Qrow shrugged, reaching into his travel bag.

"Alright, I think I got one more of those in here somewhere…"

He trailed off when he heard the sound of a wrapper being opened, and when he turned his eyes back on the girl, she had a second granola bar in her hands, and was already shoving it greedily into her mouth.

Qrow's eyes narrowed. He hadn't seen her go anywhere near his travel bag. Had he left the snack bar sitting somewhere? Had it fallen out of his bag while he was unpacking?

"Hmmm…" he mused, watching the girl eat, pursing his lips in curiosity. "What's your name, kid?"

The girl still had a mouthful of granola as she glanced back at him.

"Mmmf-hmm!" she offered unhelpfully.

Qrow sighed. Well, at least the girl wasn't mute. Sometimes, in the lower reaches of the kingdom, the unwary street urchin might get their tongue cut out just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a relief to see that this girl, whoever she was, had managed to avoid such a fate.

Still, that didn't answer the question of what Qrow was supposed to do with her. He was a Huntsman, and couldn't really be saddled with a child, least of all now while he was busy hunting down leads on the Spring Maiden for Ozpin. He didn't have any other contacts that he could trust with her either. Taiyang was busy raising two girls of his own, and after what just happened to Summer…

No, he couldn't lean on Tai. Not now.

"Sit tight for a bit," Qrow said, standing up from the table and reaching into his pocket. "I need to make some calls."

As he rose, he didn't pay her reaction much mind, mostly because he was feeling around in his pocket for a scroll that wasn't there.

"Hey," he grumbled in annoyance, checking his other pockets. "Where's my scroll?"

He began rifling through his travel bag, when a tiny voice emanated from the girl's throat.

"Umm…" she muttered.

Qrow turned his eyes up to look at the girl. Sure enough, right there in her hands was the scroll he was looking for.

He scowled as he studied her. She was holding out the scroll to him, a guilty expression on her face, her eyes turned away as if she were expecting to be punished. He retrieved the scroll from her hands, causing her to flinch.

This was the second time this girl had snatched something from him tonight. How had she managed to filch all this stuff right out from under his nose? There was something fishy going on here, that was much Qrow was sure of.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the girl, he pulled up Ozpin's contact info and pushed the dial button.

"Yes Qrow?" Ozpin responded after the first ring.

"Hey, Oz," Qrow said, hearing his old mentor's voice on the other line. "I got a bit of a situation here."

As briefly as he could, Qrow went over the details of the evening's events to the old man, who simply listened patiently. By the time Qrow was finished explaining, he could hear the disappointment in the headmaster's voice.

"I see," Ozpin said calmly. "This will complicate matters. We can't allow your mission to be compromised, but we also can't very well leave this girl to fend for herself either. I'll reach out to some of my contacts in Mistral to see about finding her a more permanent home. For now, the mission can wait. Keep an eye the child, and do whatever you feel you have to do to keep her safe. And perhaps consider making contact with Professor Lionheart. He would be in the best position to offer aid."

Something about that suggestion made Qrow's skin crawl.

"I don't know, Oz," he protested. "I don't think Haven Academy would be the best environment for this kid."

"Now, now, Qrow," Ozpin admonished. "Leonardo is a trusted ally."

"That's not what I mean," Qrow interjected. "Look, as far as I can tell, this kid grew up in the slums of Mistral, her and her mother fending for themselves amongst the criminal underbelly of the kingdom. Do you really think she's going to feel comfortable surrounded by some of the most dangerous fighters that kingdom has to offer?"

Qrow could tell that Ozpin wasn't convinced by his argument, but he didn't press the issue.

"I'll trust you to handle the situation how you see fit," the headmaster of Beacon Academy allowed. "She is in your care, after all."

Qrow ended the call, staring at the screen on his scroll in indecision. He began rifling through contacts, trying to think of who else he could call. He thumbed past Taiyang's number, pausing briefly on Summer's contact info which he still had not removed, before he finally ending on Raven's number. She had stopped responding to his calls long ago, although the line still clearly worked. For the briefest of moments, he entertained the idea that Raven might just come home if she learned that her little brother had a child to look after.

He dispensed with the thought, and returned his gaze to the nameless girl sitting across from him, who was picking up crumbs from her granola bars on the table, sticking each little morsel into her mouth.

She looked completely malnourished. Qrow didn't know how long he'd be looking after her, but if he was going to be her caretaker for the time being, the least he could do was make sure she was well fed.

"Still hungry, huh?" Qrow observed, catching her attention. "Tell you what, why don't we order some takeout? There ought to be some place that'll deliver to this dump."

Qrow reached into his pocket for his wallet to check on his funds. Ozpin had given him a stipend to work with during his mission, but if he was going to be feeding two mouths with this money, then he would need to budget accordingly.

His breath caught in his throat, however, when he discovered that now his wallet was missing too.

"What the-!?" he gasped, his eyes darting back to the little girl in front of him, a scowl forming on his face. "Where's my wallet!?"

The girl's eyes widened in surprise at his expression, before she reached into the pockets of her black and white dress, feeling around before producing a familiar looking leather pocket book, offering it hastily back to him.

"Umm…I…umm…" she muttered, a panicked expression on her face.

Qrow was dumbstruck! He had been watching her like a hawk this whole time! He hadn't seen her move from her seat! There was no way she could have snatched his wallet in the time she had! He felt a little flare of anger welling up inside him at having been duped three times in one night, and by a child, no less!

"You sticky-fingered little…" he growled, biting off an expletive as he stood up from his chair and snatched back his wallet. "The hell kind of game are you playing here?"

She flinched under the verbal barrage, jumping up out of her own chair and backing away from the Huntsman.

"I…I…I can't…" she stammered, hiding her eyes behind her long black bangs, clutching her rag doll more tightly than ever. "I can't…"

Qrow let out a grunt of annoyance as he opened his pocket book to count his money.

It was all still there.

He took a breath, trying to calm himself. The girl had probably needed to pick pockets to keep from starving up until now. All in all, not a bad skill to have, living in the slums of Mistral. It just meant that he'd have to keep a sharper eye on her. He must have just been losing his edge. He just hoped that one day she didn't steal something from the wrong person, or she'd get into some real trouble.

Then again, unless his eyes were deceiving him, she had appeared to be just as surprised as Qrow had been to have discover that his wallet had been stolen.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked, brusquely.

The girl still looked terrified, and Qrow was still towering over her on his feet.

"I…I…" she muttered, nearly petrified.

Qrow let out another breath, realizing just how intimidating he must be to her, before sitting back down in his chair, making himself a less imposing presence.

"Look, just…" he said in a calmer voice, trying to sound as unthreatening as he could "Can you tell me your name please?"

The girl slowly approached the table, not sitting down, but stepping closer all the same.

"M-my…my name…" she stammered, trembling over the syllables. "My name is…M-Magpie…"

Qrow's brow softened.

Magpie. Of course.

Noire always did have a sense of humor.

"Magpie," Qrow nodded, letting out a breath. "So I take it all this sticky-fingered nonsense is your semblance at work then?"

Magpie had no answer, and just looked at him, confused. Apparently she had never heard that word before.

Qrow's brow narrowed.

"In other words," he said pointedly, "You can't control it, can you?"

Magpie's eyes widened in amazement and relief.

"Uh-uh!" she intoned, shaking her head vehemently. "Uh-uh!"

Qrow let out a snort of incredulity. Kleptomancy! He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't just experienced it three times in a row! It was a rare semblance indeed. A passive semblance, like his own, only instead of giving others bad luck, her power seemed to filch the odd trinket here and there from those around her – which could be considered good luck or bad, depending on the item and from whom it was stolen. And it seemed that the longer she spent with someone, the more items would mysteriously disappear from their possession and end up in her own.

Oddly fitting, given the bird of the girl's namesake.

This must have been why the girl was so down on her luck, he realized. His own bad luck had brought her into this world, leaving Noire with a child whom she was never healthy enough to care for. And growing up on the streets of Mistral, only to find herself burdened with a semblance that had basically sentenced her to a life of petty thievery…

Qrow stared at the girl remorsefully, an ache welling up in his heart.

It was no wonder the child was so fearful. How many times must she have been accused of thievery, while she had been unable to stop herself? How many times must her mother have begged her, pleaded with her daughter to stop stealing things that might get them both into trouble? How difficult must it have been for Noire to hold down a job with a child who just couldn't stop filching things from doctors, patients, friends, neighbors, or visiting family? How difficult must it have been for Magpie, never knowing anyone besides her mother who didn't see her as anything more than a dirty thief?

"God, this must be so hard on you," Qrow intoned, instinctively reached into his jacket pocket for his flask for a drink.

But of course, the flask was missing.

He gave Magpie a sly look.

She flinched apologetically, before reaching into the pocket of her black and white dress, pulling out the flask and handing it back to him, sheepishly.

"Well, Mag," Qrow said, opening the lid to take a sip. "It looks like we've got our work cut out for us, you and I."