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Shadows and Light – By CDGhuntermMCO

Prologue Part 1 – Cat Burglar

Blake was starting to reconsider her decision leaving Adam back on the train all those months ago.

Sure, the White Fang had become extremely militaristic in these later years. Yes, White Fang members had a level of fanaticism rivaling or even surpassing cult worship. And yes, their terrorism and guerrilla warfare tactics have led to the slaughter of hundreds, with little bias as to who was innocent or not.

But damnit if Blake couldn't have been sleeping in an honest to god bed right now, her stomach full of food. Granted very bland and more than likely stale food, but her stomach would be full of it nonetheless. She wouldn't be caught outside in the dead of night, being pelted by fat rain drops that were only a few degrees shy of being sleet. And her stomach wouldn't be constantly reminding of the fact her last meal was sometime around noon two days ago.

Blake sighed and let her head fall back against the tree she was perched up in. She knew striking it out on her own was going to be difficult, but it seemed like the universe was doing everything in its power to make her suffer. Blake was unable to find steady work, although ironically it had nothing to do with her being a Faunus. She had no resume of past experience for the more serious occupations, and when it came to part time jobs there simply weren't enough to go around for all the youth around Vale. Of course Blake would never degrade herself to work as a call-girl or something equally unsavory. Her dreams of being a Huntress were a bust, so there was no reason dwelling on it anymore…

In desperation Blake took to the one skill she'd hoped to avoid using above all others; thievery. Nothing like common street crime though, she was not a mugger. If anything her skills as an infiltrator for the White Fang were more than adequate for sneaking into the homes of society's upper echelon of citizens. Blake only ever stole from those she knew wouldn't be hurting if they suddenly lost a few hundred lien.

Unfortunately Blake hasn't had the chance to exercise her skills for over a week now. She'd had a scare with the White Fang back at the cheap motel in the last place she stayed at. Just some mooks who had started coming around and leaving their organization's insignia around the neighborhood. The logical part of Blake's mind reassured her they probably weren't searching for her specifically, they probably didn't even know she'd been there at all. But Blake also knew Adam, and she never doubted his tenacity for pursuing his goals. So she aired on the side of caution and traveled to a small village on the outskirts of Vale's territory called Ansel, just to stay hidden for a few days.

It was quaint, peaceful. Removed from the pressures of larger society. There were few Faunus way out here, but they seemed to not be discriminated against. They were merely treated as any other resident. A sort of blissful ignorance, although Blake couldn't decide if it showed the humans just weren't vocal with their racism or simply didn't see the difference between them and Faunus. Sometimes it was difficult to tell if the progress toward equality was actually taking root.

It was easy for someone like Blake to hide out in a place like Ansel, removed from society as a whole. But when one wanted to stay hidden, it was also rather difficult to make a living. These people had a sort of communal system, where they worked for each other's benefit. Which in of itself seemed a little strange considering how they were still quite modernized. It was nigh impossible for an outsider to find a job. Any robberies were also out of the question, seeing as how the strange girl from parts unknown would of course be the primary suspect.

Blake shivered in the cold night air, pulling her poofy coat tighter around her slight frame. She normally just stuck to pilfering monetary wealth or small items that could easily be pawned. But she'd made an exception and looted a coat from a rather upscale and snooty clothing store a month ago when the weather had started to dip into colder days and nights. Although at this rate the extra padding was only delaying her inevitable demise.

She was starving, there was only a little drinking water left, she hadn't properly bathed in days, and had not a single lien to her name. Blake had been starting to fear the worst when she'd overhead a couple of townsfolk talking about a family called the Arcs.

Blake could only make out a few words, but apparently the old man and his wife were going on a trip. Intrigued, she decided to scout out their house, seeing as how it was separate from the rest of the village. Scouting the area from the surrounding tree line, she marveled at their mansion of a home. A small mansion to be sure, but nothing a mere commoner could hope to afford. No doubt Mr. Arc was in his old adage, whisking his twenty something trophy wife off to more coastal areas for the winter. It was the perfect mark.

Though it wasn't like Blake had much of a choice. It was either steal what the Arcs had or let herself starve and die. Blake was able to lessen her guilt knowing Mr. Arc wouldn't be ruined financially if she merely took a few lien for herself.

So Blake waited, staying in the cover of the trees to keep hidden. The open courtyards around the mansion were large, almost unnaturally so. Like the closer trees had been cut down due to the owner's paranoia for invaders. Blake silently glowered at her misfortune and tried not to think about the irony of where she found herself now.

The Arcs had left hours ago, but Blake waited patiently. From this distance she had no idea how many people they had for staff. Not to mention if they had kids or not, though Blake doubted it. She didn't dare make her move until it was practically three in the morning, when even the most stubborn of night owls would surely relent to the alluring embrace of sleep.

Blake discarded her overly large coat and hid it beneath a thicket of bushes. It would only slow her down, and Blake needed to be quick and quiet. Her usual clothes were more than up to the task, even if they did little to fight against the cold or hide her figure. Quieter than the night around her, Blake sprinted across the courtyard, thankful that at least the poor weather meant there was no moonlight to give her away. She slid to a halt against the side of the mansion and pressed herself against it, waiting a few moments with baited breath. When she was sure she heard no sign of alarms or alerted denizens, she began to slink around the mansion in search of an opening.

She wasn't so foolish as to use the front door. Blake at least had some self-respect. What looked to be a cellar door looked promising, but it was extremely well chained up. Gambol Shroud could break in with ease but Blake couldn't risk the staff hearing her. Eventually she settled upon a first floor window. It was a simple matter to run up the wall and pull herself up onto the ledge. Blake then expertly used the elastic band attached to Gambol Shroud to snake through the window cracks and undo the locks from the inside.

Agonizingly slow, Blake pushed the window open, wincing at the low scraping sound it made. Once it was fully open she perched on the windowsill, straining her advanced hearing to detect the sounds of alarms or staff woken from their slumber. Again, after a few moments Blake heard nothing and eased herself onto the floor. She then closed the window but left it open a crack, lest she need to make a hasty escape and needed an easy exit.

Blake's amber eyes roved over the room she found herself in, her night vision aiding her immeasurably. It appeared to be a living room, far more homely than what she'd expected. All the books tossed about, useless nick nacks gracing almost every surface, the blankets strewn upon well-worn couches, all suggested people actually lived here. Blake reconsidered the idea of children living here, but ultimately decided it didn't change anything. She needed the money, they didn't.

A quick check over everything allowed Blake to conclude what she'd already expected; nothing worth taking. She briefly checked out the television, seeing how it was a newer model and probably worth some hefty lien, but she decided against it. It was far too large for her to carry back, and Blake wasn't sure she had the strength to lift anything larger than a microwave in her malnourished state.

Quickly and quietly, she moved from room to room on the lower floor. All provided the same result. Lots of junk she had no need of, anything of value was too heavy to carry. She found what appeared to be a study at one point, though it too lacked anything of feasible value. At Mr. Arc's desk she found nothing but expense reports, bills, and memorabilia from a time long forgotten. She quickly ascertained he used to be a Huntsman. He even had his old set of plate and chain mail armor sitting inside a glass container. Again, Blake was sure it could go for a hefty price but there was no way in hell she could possibly carry it out with her.

Another clue to the man's Hunter origins was the dojo she stumbled into. Lots of punching bags and weights, with a spacious open area for sparring. But like everything else in the house, nothing she could profit from taking. Blake was starting to get seriously ticked off at this man. What kind of a person lived in a mansion but refused to furnish it with things of actual value?

Scowling, Blake found her way to what was surely a dining room. Here, the cat ears upon her head finally perked up with interest. The plates and silver ware looked to be rather generic, but the glasses must have surely been expensive crystal. Blake took one in her hand and tested the weight, finding it heavy enough. With a resigned sigh she started stowing them away in the empty bag she'd brought with her. It wasn't exactly a big score, but at least she could make something off of it.

The next room Blake considered not even entering. She'd found the kitchen, and she highly doubted her chances to find something of worth here. But before Blake could walk away, her treacherous body decided to remind her of the fact she hadn't eaten in days, her stomach giving out a loud growl. Scowling once more, Blake decided to make her way to the fridge. Snotty rich people were notorious for never really having their own food, preferring instead to just order out or go to overly expensive restaurants. But maybe they would have something on hand she could-

Blake opened the fridge and her mouth promptly fell open out of shock. Oh they had food alright.

The fridge was goddamn full of it.

Bread products, different kinds of drinks, drawers full of fruit and veggies, plenty of cooking foods like eggs or sauces. You named it, these people had it. There was even what appeared to be wrapped up meals. Almost with a mind of their own, Blake's hands picked up a foil wrapped plate and moved the coverings aside to see what they were hiding. Blake almost whimpered when the sight of leftover chicken greeted her.

Blake did a quick glance around her surroundings, making sure no one was sneaking up on her. Once she was sure she was safe, Blake tentatively pulled off a piece of chicken. It wasn't like she was going to eat all of it, she assured herself. She was hungry, and a little food would go a long way to helping her recover.

She popped the piece of meat in her mouth, and Blake felt her knees go wobbly as an unbidden moan erupted from her throat. The chicken was cold and hard but son of a bitch it was good.

Blake couldn't stop herself if she wanted to after realizing just how ravenous she was. She all but slammed the plate on the nearby counter and tore into the deceased fowl with all the grace of a hyena after bringing down a kill.

The chicken was gone before she even knew what happened. It felt amazing to have something in her stomach, but she wanted more. Blake could only stare at the plate pitifully, now since all it held was bones.

Something in her snapped, and Blake realized she no longer cared for this family's money. How dare they hoard all this food for themselves? Especially when she was outside in the cold and rain, wasting away to nothing. No, Blake's haul would not consist of items of monetary value. When she left tonight, her bag would be full of life giving sustenance.

Months later, Blake would recall this night and cringe from just how much zeal she had when she threw herself into this new task. She was a mad woman possessed, practically clawing at the fridge and tearing out anything she deemed worthy. Which really surmounted to anything that wouldn't spoil in mere hours. The bread, the fruit, the vegetables, nothing was safe. But Blake didn't stop there. She sprang from cabinet to cabinet, pulling out anything she could take with her. To her utter delight she found boxes of cereal, jars of snack food, and heaps of granola.

Whatever she could get her hands on went into the bag. Blake cared little if anything got crushed, too consumed with making sure she got out with as much as she could. The bag was practically bursting at the seams, but Blake still felt uncertain, like there was something she'd missed. But she made sure to fill up multiple bottles of water, put the perishable foods into protective plastic bags. What else could she be missing?

Despite her better judgment, Blake set her bag back down and did another once over the kitchen. The fridge revealed she'd already taken everything she could, and the cabinets were starting to show same conclusion. Blake was rifling through their pantry, pushing aside a large container of salt when her amber eyes fell upon her greatest weakness.

Tuna.

Whole cans of it.

Her mouth began watering uncontrollably.

With trembling hands she picked up the cans, staring at them with a reverence one would usually save for when faced with the image of the Gods. She caressed the cans softly, tenderly. Blake wanted to weep at the mere sight of them, but she also wanted to scream out her frustrations at the top of her lungs.

Her problem being how the tuna was canned. And she was fairly certain she didn't have a can opener.

Blake eyed the Arc's can opener warily. The rich bastards couldn't bear to use a simple hand held can opener, no sir. They just had to have an electric one installed into the wall. Chose to have a loud, cumbersome machine for the sake of ease when opening cans. It's like they'd purposely designed their house just to piss her off. Blake was starting to wonder if she hated these people.

The logically thinking parts of her mind were screaming at Blake to forget about the Tuna and get the hell out of there. Using the can opener would create unnecessary noise, and Blake would more than likely be found out and have to run for her life.

But another, more treacherous and far hungrier part of her mind screamed at her just as loud. Tuna was a delicacy, it told her, and these people were undeserving of having such a vaunted food in their home. And who deserved it more than Blake? The girl who turned her back on everything she knew when she decided she would no longer be an accomplice to wanton killings. The girl who had nothing left. No friends, no family, no material possessions she could call her own besides Gambol Shroud and the clothes on her back.

Damn the Arcs, damn the White Fang, and the damn the gods forsaken noise. Blake deserved this. Blake deserved tuna.

Throwing caution into a burning volcano, Blake grabbed as many cans as she could find and dumped them onto the counter before the can opener. Slowly, carefully, she affixed the first can into the apparatus and made sure it was secure. All she had to do was press the button, and the machine would do all the work for her.

Finger hovering over said button, Blake once more glanced around the kitchen. She even tried to peer down the two entrances the kitchen had, but still she found no one coming her way. So with a silent prayer, her finger surged forward.

Blake grimaced as the sound of grinding metal filled the kitchen. How could it possibly be this loud? She tried using the power of her mind to forcefully make the machine emanate less noise as it did its work. And to make it work faster.

However, after a few more torturous seconds, the lid of the can finally popped off, and Blake let off the activation button. With trembling hands, Blake freed the can from the contraption and carefully lifted the layer of metal away.

The smell hit her first, and Blake's knees buckled as the familiar scent assaulted her nostrils. She chucked the lid away, and she gazed lovingly at the treasure finally freed from its confinement.

Blake wasted no more time and eagerly dug into the can, forgoing the use of a utensil of any kind. She mewled happily as the first bite entered her mouth, her ears twitching in delight. The explosion of flavor across her taste buds spurred her on, and Blake began shoveling the meat into her mouth. Nothing could contain her moans of ecstasy, and Blake cared little for how she was getting juices all over her hands and chin. She sucked on her fingers wantonly, savoring the taste coating her-

"Hello."

Her amber eyes shot open as her entire body went rigid. She bit down painfully on her fingers to keep from screaming in surprise. The blood in her veins ran cold and her now somewhat filled belly started to tie knots into itself.

She couldn't have possibly heard what she thought she heard. There was no way. If she really heard it, then all of Blake's worst fears would come to fruition. So there was no way she'd heard anything, right?

Agonizingly slow, Blake began to turn, as if taking so much time to confirm what she'd heard would magically turn the lie she was telling herself into truth. Half eaten can of tuna in one hand, the other hanging from her mouth, Blake turned her amber gaze toward the source of the sound she may or may not have heard.

All her prayers were for naught, for standing right there in the kitchen doorway was the source of the sound, and Blake could no longer lie to herself about its existence.

It was a little girl, dressed in PJ's and rubbing her eyes. Probably hadn't even reached double digits in age yet. She had fair skin with a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. Short, pale pink hair framing her big, innocent light blue eyes. Under any other circumstances, Blake would have thought her absolutely adorable.

As it stood, she may as well have been the very symbol of lifelong incarceration for Blake.

Shit. Shit shit SHIT!

The little girl innocently pointed to a cupboard and said, "If you're looking for a fork, they're in the shelf right there."

Blake's limbs finally sprang into action. She was dimly aware of the tuna falling from her grasp as Blake turned tail and ran. There was no other thought in her head. Not the girl, not the tuna, not the bag of food she'd worked so hard to acquire. There was only one conscious thought in her mind: run.

If they caught her, that was it. There was no way Blake would ever get out. Best case scenario, she rotted away the remainder of her life inside of a cage. Worst case, the White Fang learned of her capture, and they broke her out for their own desires. Blake had no intention of seeing firsthand just how cruel Adam could be when you betrayed him.

So all she could do was pump her legs and run in the opposite direction of the little girl. No the doubt the staff were already looking for the missing girl, and when they found her, they would know about Blake. But she already knew her escape route. Through the doorway, down the hall, through the dining room, into the living room, and out the wind-

The last thing Blake saw before darkness overcame her was a family crest. Two white crescents inside of a bright yellow circle. Some part of Blake's adrenaline hyped mind speculated it looked like a rainbow if all the colors combined into one.

The last thing Blake felt before darkness overcame her was something extremely solid colliding with the top of her head.

Author's Note: If you're reading this, then allow me to thank you for trying out my new story Shadows and Light. As the tags would suggest, it's a story focusing on a possible romance between Jaune and Blake, partially inspired by One Good Turn Deserves Another by Ceour Al'Aran and Auburn by Super Sayan Cyndaquil. Both are amazing stories you should check out if you enjoy Knightshade and plotlines that differ greatly from the show. However, for Shadows and Light I wanted to try out a romance that still stays within the boundaries of the original RWBY story while only making a few necessary changes. The first and most important of course being Blake meeting the Arc family months before the show actually begins.

I also want to apologize in advance in case anyone finds my version of Blake to be a little too out of character for her, what with blatantly stealing from others and taking far more risks seeing as how we know she's smarter than this. My explanation is Blake's suffering from mild starvation and sleep deprivation. No matter how mentally focused you are, those things are still gonna mess with your head and make you do stupid stuff you wouldn't otherwise do if you were at one hundred percent. And like I said, I have to change some stuff if I want to justify the story.

Thanks again for taking the time to read this. I promise I'll only ask this once, so please feel free to Follow, Favorite, and Comment if you enjoyed what you read. Cheers!