Reinman was hauled away in the back of a squad car, handcuffs secured around his beefy wrists. In the days that followed he would be convicted of multiple degrees of attempted homicide and violent acts of terrorism, sentenced to twenty-five years to life. The Purifiers disbanded and the Vale branch of the White Fang quieted down, at least for the time being. Though things had calmed down considerably, Vale still needed time to recover from recent events, most notably, the reconstruction of Summa Academy. As a result, the four kingdoms had agreed it would be best to postpone the Vytal Festival until the middle of the following school year.

Despite being heavily interrogated by both the Vale Police Department and Ozpin himself, Klar Reinman was still insisting that he didn't hire any mercenaries to attack the peace rally, thus, the identity of the voice over the phone was still a mystery. (F/N) wasn't concerned with it though, he was too preoccupied with the gorgeous woman he had in his room.

Tensions brought about from suppressed feelings and affections had been building for months and they were finally being released. The door was locked, (F/N) sitting on his bed, Pyrrha's legs draped on either side of his lap as she straddled him. The red fabric of her low-cut blouse bunched and wrinkled as (F/N)'s hands, one rough and weathered, the other, hard and metallic, traced down her sides, finally resting on the exposed flesh of her thighs, which, in contrast, was soft and smooth. Pyrrha's hair, free of its usual ponytail, was draped over her right shoulder. Her arms were draped over (F/N)'s shoulders, one hand tangled in his (H/C) locks, the other clutching the muscles of his back.

Pyrrha's lips, (F/N) noticed, were soft and tasted sweet, like red grapes. The movements of their joined mouths was slow, almost cautious. The kiss they shared was more than just a kiss, it was an exploration. More than just embracing, the two were determined to memorize the feeling of one another. The way their lips moved and their tongues danced. The tickling sensation from the steady inhale and exhale through the nose, and the small noises of pleasure they made. Nothing was rushed, every tender second treated as its own individual treasure.

To move so unhurriedly was both an immeasurable pleasure and an unbearable torture. For the past several months the two had been denying themselves, starving for each other. Now, drinking in the feeling of one another, it only made them want more. As their kiss deepened further, (F/N) began caressing Pyrrha's thighs, gripping and kneading at her flesh as he slowly rode his hands further up, pushing back the hem of her jean shorts. When the denim would bunch up no further, (F/N) slipped his hands over the fabric placing his hands delicately on Pyrrha's lower waist. His fingers trailed along the soft skin just beneath her naval, drifting steadily lower. His hands were dangerously close to her womanhood, his fingers just seconds away from unfastening the button on the front of her waist.

It would have been easy for Pyrrha to let him continue. Too easy. And that was the problem. It wouldn't do to overindulge. With a tremendous amount of willpower, she grabbed his wrists. Not violently or in way that implied he had done anything wrong, but in a rather gentle manner, one that simply told him she wasn't ready for that. At least, not yet. (F/N) picked up on her silent message and instead wrapped his arms around her waist, hands placed at the small of her back.

Their embrace would last for another hour.

As the sun sank from its highest point, slowly painting the sky different shades of orange and fuchsia, the two took to the Kingdom streets for a proper first date. (F/N) in his usual attire, Pyrrha in a white blouse and black skirt and tights, the two passed through the large metal archway marking the entrance of the Vytal Carnival. The many brilliant colored lights flashed across the night sky as hundreds of bodies passed through the fairgrounds; mostly young adults, not many children being out this late. Hand in hand, Pyrrha and (F/N) strolled leisurely through the crowd, making their way deeper into the carnival.

All the main attractions had been positioned at the front of the fairgrounds to attract visitors, but near the back there was less noise. Less people. The light was provided by street lamps, bathing the surrounding area in a warm glow as shadows flickered across the ground from moths and other insects as they fluttered near the dim light. Nudging (F/N) gently, Pyrrha smiled up at (F/N) and gave a slight tilt with her head. Looking at where she was indicating, (F/N) chuckled to himself as he saw a couples' boat ride, a calm current of water carrying small boats into a manmade cave entrance. A pink neon sign hung over the mouth that read TUNNEL OF LOVE. The dim magenta lighting, the elegant designs of the boats; the whole thing was extremely tacky, but right now, it was appropriate.

Pyrrha started towards the ride, dragging (F/N) gently behind her. Taking her hand, (F/N) helped Pyrrha into one of the gondolas before carefully stepping into it himself. There was little room in the small watercraft, meaning (F/N) and Pyrrha's bodies were pressed right up against each other. But that was the point. Lifting his arm, (F/N) draped it over Pyrrha's shoulders and she leaned into his frame, her head resting against his chest as he turned and gently nuzzled the side of his face in her red hair, inhaling deeply her scent. The calm current of the water carried the two into the tunnel, the gentle rocking of the boat extremely soothing.

The ride was long and leisurely. After ten minutes they still weren't back at the beginning. There were no other couples in sight, the ride having been designed to twist and turn, the boats spaced to afford each couple some privacy. Off in the distance the light at the end of the tunnel grew steadily larger, but the rate of the current meant they had at least another few minutes before the ride was over.

"Pyrrha?" (F/N) asks quietly, almost in a whisper.

"Hmm?" Pyrrha responds, eyes closed, her head still resting against his chest.

"Do you think it's too early for me to tell you that I love you?"

Pyrrha opens her eyes and looks up at (F/N). They had only known each other a few months, only been dating a few days, but as green met (E/C) the world faded until all that was left was them.

Pyrrha smiles and shakes her head. "No." She says. "In fact, I think it's perfect."

Reaching across his body, (F/N) gently holds the side of Pyrrha's face, angling her jaw upwards and capturing her lips in a tender yet passionate kiss that lasted until their boat slowly flowed out of the tunnel.

On their way out of the carnival, (F/N) insisted they stop at one of the booths for him to win one of the giant stuffed animals. The game seemed simple enough, out of five rings he only had to get two to land around the bottles. Three for the large prizes. It soon became apparent the game was rigged, and in just a few minutes, (F/N) had dropped over 5000 lien at the booth. Still, he seemed determine to win, even if the odds were against him.

Failing to land more than one ring, (F/N) groaned, frustratedly slamming another 500 lien on the counter.

"(F/N), really, you don't have to do this." Pyrrha laughs as (F/N) bites down on his tongue in concentration. "I'll be able to fall asleep just fine without a giant stuffed animal, I promise."

"Who said it was for you?" (F/N) asked as he tossed one of the rings, giving a small laugh of triumph as it landed around one of the bottles. "I want one of those big Ursai."

"You do?" Pyrrha giggles.

"Yeah." (F/N) nods as he lands another ring. "It looks really soft. Plus, Nora will be so jealous when she sees it."

Carefully, (F/N) throws the last ring which miraculously lands around the neck of the bottle.

________________________________________________________________________________

The sun has completely set now, the only light coming from the street lamps and windows of the residential buildings. (F/N) has his giant stuffed Ursa tucked under his arm, the other wrapped around Pyrrha's waist as they make their way back to the docks to catch a bullhead. It had been a perfect night.

The two are almost at the docks when they spot a small child on the other side of the street, tears falling from his eyes as he wails loudly. Without giving it any thought, (F/N) immediately starts towards the child, Pyrrha right behind him. Approaching the small boy, (F/N) kneels down in front of him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks gently.

"I-I can't f-find my mommy." The young boy cries.

"Hey," (F/N) soothes as the boy continues to cry, "it's okay. I'm sure your mom will be here soon."

"Really?" The boy sniffles, wiping the tears in his eyes.

"Yeah." (F/N) nods. "In fact, I bet she can't wait to see you. In the meantime, why don't we stay with you."

"O-Okay."

"What's you're name?" (F/N) asks.

"Jackson."

"Well Jackson, my name is (F/N), and this is my friend Pyrrha."

Pyrrha smiles and waves at the boy who blushes and hides his face in his shirt.

"She's pretty." He whispers to (F/N).

"You think so?" (F/N) laughs, to which Jackson nods. "I think so too. She's also really cool."

"She is?"

"Yeah." (F/N) nods. "I one time saw her kill and Ursa with her bare hands."

"Wow."

"I know. And Ursai are really big and really scary. Have you ever seen one before Jackson?"

"Only on TV." Jackson replies.

"Well, they look a lot like this." (F/N) says, taking the stuffed Grimm from under his arm and holding it up in front of the child's face. "Raaaaaar!"

Jackson screams playfully as (F/N) pretends to attack him with the stuffed beast.

"Here, you can have it if you want." (F/N) says, giving the young boy his hard-earned prize.

Jackson eagerly takes the toy, wrapping his arms around it. He's just about to open his mouth to say thank you when a sharp voice pierces the night sky.

"Jackson!" The voice calls. "There you are. How many times do I have to tell you not to..."

The woman's voice trails off as she sees (F/N) still kneeling in front of her son.

"Get away from him!" She shouts, grabbing her son's shoulders and pulling him back.

"Hey, it's okay." (F/N) says as he stands back up. He takes a step forwards and offers his hand. "We were just..."

"Don't touch him! Don't you dare lay a finger on him!"

The woman's screams have started to attract a crowd. Other people out on the streets start gathering around to see what's causing the commotion. Several doors even open as people poke their heads out from nearby buildings.

"Ma'am, really," (F/N) says, "I was just trying to help."

Suddenly, a fist collides with (F/N)'s jaw, sending him to the ground.

"You stay away from them you freak!" An angered man shouts, positioning himself between (F/N) and the mother.

Pyrrha rushes forwards and drops onto her knees next to (F/N), wrapping her arms around his back.

"What's wrong with you people?" She asks angrily, helping (F/N) back to his feet. "He hasn't done anything."

"Hasn't done anything?" A man in the crowd scoffs. "Have you seen the news?"

"Yeah!" Another woman shouts. "He's a murderer! He killed my grandfather!"

Pyrrha looks at the angry crowd in confusion. "What are you..."

Someone roughly shoves a scroll in her hands, saying something about how "Your boyfriend is a war criminal." The crowd quiets down to allow Pyrrha to listen to the news footage playing on the scroll.

"...present at both the Peace Rally massacre and the catastrophe at Summa Academy.

Posing as a Beacon student, we can now confirm his real identity is (F/N) (L/N), a Major from the Great War, cryogenically preserved through the years by Atlas scientists. Please know that our viewers may find the following images to be disturbing."

Old footage from the war plays over Lisa Lavender's voice. Footage of (F/N) tearing his way through a small unit of Vale soldiers, ducking and weaving around their gunfire, finally lunging and gripping a man by his throat so tightly his neck snaps, throwing his corpse at his compatriots before rushing them as well. The footage cuts to a shaky camera angle as (F/N) holds a soldier by the collar, using him as a shield as he fires at the enemy, dropping seven men with just a few well placed rounds from a burst rifle. The angle switches for a third time, the image depicting a shaky image of the ground as the sound of running footsteps plays overtop. The camera suddenly shakes violently as the man falls. When the image refocuses, it shows (F/N) crouched overtop the man, his face covered in blood, his features unhuman, almost animal like. His right fist pulls back and then the image goes blurry.

"Long thought to have perished in the Battle of Nihilo, Atlas scientist Doctor Crabbe Allwisend recently confirmed that the kingdom of Mantle, now Atlas, cryogenically preserved Major (L/N) for the past eighty-seven years before General James Ironwood ordered his release, presumably for a military undertaking. This begs the question, why has (L/N) been posing as a Beacon student for the past five months. Is General Ironwood attempting to infiltrate the other huntsmen academies? And if so, for what purpose? Here now to speak about Mr. (L/N)'s potential mental deterioration is Dr. Allwisend himself. Thank you for taking the time to talk with us doctor."

"Of course." Dr. Allwisend says, his image being streamed over a video chat, displayed on the screen.

"So, what can you tell us about Major (L/N)?"

"Well, it should first be noted that I objected to his release. I warned the General there would be unforeseen circumstances, but he threatened my wellbeing and forced my hand."

"And what unforeseen circumstances were you referring to doctor?"

"As you have already said, I'm here to warn the people of Vale, indeed, the entire world, that Mr. (L/N) may potentially be an unstable individual. After his release I dedicated myself to studying his neurological patterns both during the time of the war and from the readings we collected during his cryogenesis. I'm afraid to say my findings were, less than pleasant. As a side effect of being frozen for over eighty years, Mr. (L/N)'s cerebrum, specifically his temporal lobe, have suffered severe deterioration."

"What does this mean in terms of his mental status?" Lavender asks.

"Well, the temporal lobe is responsible for controlling and regulating our emotions. Damage to this portion of the brain may result in unpredictable and extreme mood swings. Should Mr. (L/N) suffer from this condition, he may become increasingly violent and dangerous to be around."

"And do you know whether or not he has shown any of these tendencies?"

"I'm afraid not." Allwisend says. "It could already be happening for all I know. What I can say is that he is an extremely dangerous individual who, for the public's safety, should be placed in isolation under strict supervision. At some point in the near future, his brain may make him believe he's still fighting in the war. If this were to happen, well, I believe the earlier footage speaks for itself."

"Thank you Doctor." Lavender says. "Though we have yet to receive any news of Mr. (L/N) suffering any emotional instability, students at Beacon claim he is often aloof, secluded, and sometimes even violent, responsible for hospitalizing another of his fellow students. Parents will surely want him as far away from Beacon as possible, and we are confident Headmaster Ozpin will be announcing his expulsion soon. General Ironwood, who was unavailable for questioning, is reported to have..."

"See." The man says, reclaiming his scroll. "He's a monster!"

The last three words are shouted to the assembled crowd who begins to grow restless and violent. They begin shouting at (F/N), belittling him and saying he should be in a mental institute, or else killed in penance for his crimes.

Ducking under a rock thrown at his head, (F/N) steps towards Pyrrha to grab her arm. He wants to talk to her, to explain himself. Explain how he's different, how the man in the video isn't him, not anymore. As his fingers brush her arm she recoils, quickly pulling her arm out of his reach and taking a few hurried steps back.

"Pyrrha?" (F/N) asks, his voice a mixture of sadness and fear.

Hearing his voice, Pyrrha knows he's not a monster. She knows he's a good person. She knows she'll continue to love him. But for just a split second she was afraid, and it was in that brief second that (F/N) looked at her and glimpsed the thought that flittered across her mind. Her body was instinctively turned away from him, her shoulders tense as she grabs the spot on her arm where his fingers had made contact, as if she had been burned by his very touch. It was her eyes though that betrayed her. Full of fear and disgust. It would be a fleeting look, soon to be replaced by understanding and love. In just another half second, she would see (F/N) as the man she loved. But in that moment, in that short-lived moment when she had instinctively retreated, her eyes had seen a monster. It was a look (F/N) knew all too well, because it was how he saw himself whenever he looked in the mirror. But Pyrrha was supposed to be different. Pyrrha was different. But for that damned second that lasted an eternity, she was just like everyone else. She saw him just like everyone else. A monster. And in the fairytales and children's stories, when the angry mob chases down the monster, the monster runs away. So that's what (F/N) did.

He ran

Author's Note:
You have finished The Strength of a Soldier. (F/N)'s story doesn't end here however. The second book, The Wings of a Valkyrie, is up now.