Velvet likened it, at least in the privacy of her own mind, to walking to class before a big test. Mounting nerves, a coiling snake of anxiety in her tummy, sweaty palms and an urge to call in sick.

Then Salem, queen of the Grimm and scariest mom ever, opened the door to a room and ushered her in first.

Part of her expected a torture chamber, but she was instead greeted by a ncie little louging area, with padded seats and a little coffee table on which a nice crystal sat in a vase. Of course, it was then that she noticed the tentacle Grimm floating in one corner, its eye fixed on her and its many, far too many, limbs twitching.

“Don’t worry about the Seer,” Salem said with a gesture towards the tentacle monster. “We won’t be doing anything with that for a few minutes yet. Sit.”

Velvet sat.

The Seer hovered.

Salem smiled.

Velvet regretted every minute spent watching that sort of Mistrailian cartoon. “W-why did you want to see me, ma’am?”

Salem turned the act of sitting down into a display of grace in action, long legs bending just so before she crossed them one over the other and leaned her head to one side, chin resting on a closed fist.

“I have questions,” she said. “Before we move on to dinner.”

“Oh. Okay.” Velvet studied the floor and placed both hands on her knees to keep them from shaking.

“You’re a friend of that... Coco girl, yes?”

“Yes. Are, are you going to hurt Coco?” Velvet asked.

Salem hummed. “I haven’t decided yet. One the one hand, it taught my dear Akelarre a valuable lesson. On the other hand, Akelarre was hurt. It’s only fair that I return the pain in kind.”

“P-pain?” Velvet whispered.

Salem made a gesture with her free hand, dismissive. “I misspoke. Pain is too simple a word. I would take her from everything she loves, then ensure through my arts and magic that she lives to the fullest potential of her natural life. And in those many, many decades I will show her a whole new dimension of suffering unlike anything her feeble little mind could even begin to imagine.” All that was said with the same tone Velvet might have used to tell someone she was going to go get milk, or if they would pass the butter. No grandstanding, just an outright statement of what she planned to do with Coco for the rest of Coco’s life.

“I, I can’t,” Velvet said. There was a spark of something in her chest, bravery, maybe. It grew like a blazing fire in the hearth of her soul. “I can’t let you.”

“Can’t let me what?” Salem asked. She took that fire, the hearth, and the house it was in and tossed them all into the deep abyss of space.

“N-nevermind,” Velvet said.

“Hrm, well, nothing is written in stone. I could yet change my mind. And Akelarre is so much the forgiving sort. That’s not why I brought you here,” Salem said.

The Queen gestured and the tentacle beast in the corner chortled as it floated closer. Velvet tensed, legs locking with thighs together and arms crossing her chest. Even her ears drooped as it came near.

“Show us,” Salem demanded.

The Seer bobbed once, then its pitch black eye whirled and twisted before taking the shape of an image, a moving image. It was Akelarre, Akelarre in a white robe, her hair stuck up in eight pigtails, though no two were of the same length and they looked quite frankly ridiculous.

“That’s when Akelarre tried to imitate my hairstyle. I would usually change modes every so often, but her attempt that one time has encouraged me to keep this style for now.” Salem gestured again. “The next one.”

Velvet wasn’t sure what was happening, but this was better than what her imagination had conjured.

The next image was no image at all, but a slightly blurry... video, of sorts. Akelarre giggling as she tickled a huge wall of a man, her black arm deformed into a myriad of little tentacles that targeted the man’s armpits and tummy. He was obviously working hard not to laugh, but then a chortle escaped him and they both broke out into peels of laughter.

“That’s Akelarre, playing with her new arm, the one that I made her,” Salem said with the same tone she’d just used to threaten Coco. “I do like hearing her laugh.”

“She, um, she has a nice laugh,” Velvet ventured.

“Yes. She does. The next one.”

This time the image in the Seer was of Akelarre guiding a swarm of what looked like Grimm bumblebees, but instead of flying in formations like the other bugs around them, they bumped into each other, the other Grimmsects, the walls, the ceiling and once off of a crystalline vase, sending it crashing with a clatter. The pout Akelarre was wearing was downright dangerous it was so cute.

“Oh no,” Velvet said, hands clasping over her mouth as one bumblegrimm thumped Akelarre behind the head and sent her sprawling.

Salem made a sound, though what it could mean, Velvet had no clue. “Indeed,” she said.

The door burst open and a panting Akelarre, hair dishevelled and eyes wide, stood in the frame. “Mom!” the single word was filled with more embarrassment than Velvet had heard since the time Coco brought her shopping for underwear, then told her to put on a show for the boys.

“Yes, Daughter?” Salem asked. “I was just about to move onto the next image.”

Velvet watched, fascinated, as the Seer projected an image of Akelarre moving in a way that might have been dancing. Maybe. There was certainly rhythmic motion and she was holding onto a rather large praying mantis and smiling, but she looked as graceful as a drunken raccoon.

“No!” Akelarre said. Then there were bugs.

Velvet squeaked as a swarm battered into the Seer and sent it tumbling across the room to disappear in a wash of black smoke.

“That was a somewhat extreme reaction,” Salem said. “You merely had to ask me to stop.”

“Yes, well,” Akelarre said, face rather red. “Dinner’s ready. C’mon Velvet.”

Velvet looked to Salem, but the woman just shooed her off. “We can talk at the dinner table,” she said as she started to climb back to her feet. “In the meantime, do ask Akelarre to show you to your rooms. I’m certain she knows which ones already.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”

Akelarre wrapped a hand around Velvet’s, surprisingly calloused skin tight around Velvet’s hand as she pulled her out of the room and back down the corridor. “I’m so sorry about that,” she said as the hint of pink on Akelarre’s cheek began to fade.

“It’s okay?” Velvet said. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel about the whole ordeal. “She seems to really care about you. It’s kind of cute.”

The pink on Akelarre’s cheeks returned with a vengeance. “Yeah, well, uh, I’m sure your parents are the same.”

Velvet had a flash of her mother sitting Akelarre down to show off images of a baby Velvet when her ears were still mostly fluff and she was too young to know better than to be on the other side of the camera. “Ah, yeah,” she said.

“Maybe I can meet your parents one day,” Akelarre said.

Velvet looked down at where their hands were joined, did some very quick mental math, and felt all the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Ah.”

Akelarre led her up a winding staircase, a few Beowolves moving out of her path the same way someone would move out of Glynda’s way in Beacon. Velvet watched them as they walked past, some small part of her still finding everything surreal. “This is where my bedroom is,” Akellare said as she pointed to a closed door. “And you can stay here, if you want.” She gestured at the door across the hall, and then pushed it open with a shoulder.

Velvet had never really been to a fancy hotel. She wasn’t the sort, and she couldn’t afford it besides. The cost for a few nights at the fanciest place in Vale would probably cover a tenth of the downpayment on a new lens for her camera. But she imagined that even the most luxurious place in Vale wouldn’t mind having a room like the one she was in as their penthouse.

Tall statues made of carved dust crystals stood in nooks and corners, a plush couch took up a quarter of a sitting area. She could see the actual bedroom off to one side behind an opened door, a four poster bed piled high with sheets just waiting for someone to bounce on it.

“It’s very pretty,” she said.

Akelarre looked around the room too. “I guess it is.”

“Did you, um, want to show me your room?” she asked. It was the sort of thing she would do if she brought a friend over, and it would occupy their time. Also, it might make Akelarre let go of her hand.

“Sure,” Akelarre said with a shrug.

Back down the other side of the corridor, they reached Akelarre’s room, the door opening on its own as they approached.

It was a mess.

Velvet’s eyes boggled as she tried to take in all the workbenches, tables and drawing boards pushed up against every wall, the disassembled weapons with parts all over, the huge cobwebs stuck to one wall and the chair piled high with clean clothes that took centre stage of a pile of not so clean clothes mounted around it.

Her feet sank into a thick carpet, enough that a few nearby discarded crayons rolled over and tapped against her foot. She opened her mouth, then closed it with a click.

Then she heard the buzzing and looked up. The ceiling was a hive. Huge beehives stuck to the rafters and partially hidden in the shadows, flashes of yellow flitting from one hive to the next before darting out of an open window at the back.

“Uh,” Velvet said as her attention was dragged away from the living ceiling and to a wall covered in crayon drawings that were very... enthusiastic. “Uh.”

“I really should have cleaned up before you arrived,” Akelarre whispered to herself.

Velvet took a moment to stare at Akelarre’s bed, because it was something that deserved to be stared at. A huge round thing that was as tall as her hips and looked so plush that she was afraid someone might drown in it. Gauzy curtains surrounded it on all sides and it was covered in satin sheets. Frankly, it looked like it belonged in a brothel.

“Oh yeah, I found that in the dungeons,” Akelarre said. “It’s weird looking, but so comfy. Did you want to test it out?”

“Haaa,” was Velvet’s response as Akelarre finally let go of her hand and started taking off her cloak. She tossed the piece of clothing onto a rack, then stretched a little.

“We can play after dinner, it looks like it’s almost ready."

Play.

Play after dinner.

Was she going to have babies? Would her mom be happy or angry if they were part Grimm? Was mom going to have to fight with Salem to be allowed to play with her grandbabies?

“Velvet, are you okay?” Akelarre asked.

“Aaaaa,” was Velvet’s low keen of a reply.

“If you don’t want to play cards or play with my bugs we can do other things,” Akelarre said, sounding rather shy.

“Cards. Cards are good,” Velvet snapped out of her fugue. “Cards are great.”

Akelarre’s smile was a little confused, but it was certainly nicer than any of the thoughts going through Velvet’s head. “Sure, but after dinner. Come on.”

Grabbing her hand again, Akelarre pulled her out of the disaster zone that was her bedroom and back out into the corridor. “You, um, have a very nice room,” Velvet said. It certainly was unique.

“Thanks,” Akelarre said. “So, dinner is, a bit of a thing,” she started. “The food is fine, by the way. We have it all imported from Mistral and Vale and Vacuo. Sometimes from Atlas. Sometimes we get fresh stuff from the Grimm worshipping cults.”

She probably should have been surprised that there were Grimm worshippers out there, but after all the other things she saw that day, Velvet wasn’t even phased. “Okay.”

“You don’t need to bother with the whole seven spoons, eighteen forks thing. I never did. Salem, mom, is the only one that actually cares.”

“O-okay.”

“Just be polite and everything will be fine. I know you’re a little nervous, but I’ll keep you safe, okay?” Akelarre looked over her shoulder and there was a warmth in her expression, even under the red of her eyes and the black, crack-like veins running along the edges of her face.

Velvet nodded, finding new determination swelling within her. “Okay.”

The dining room, or maybe it was hall, was a cavernous room that reminded her a little of Beacon’s cafeteria. At least, the dimensions did. The cafeteria didn’t have a cathedral ceiling or stained glass murals that cast colourful light onto a lone table that was longer than the average bus and surrounded by high-backed chairs.

Salem was, somehow, already at the head of the table, a tiny pair of glasses hanging off the tip of her nose as she read over a book that could only be described as a tome. To her left sat a man with an almost rictus grin plastered to his face.

“Come on,” Akelarre said as she moved to the far end of the table. For a moment, Velvet was pleased to see that they were going to have a dozen meters between them and Salem, but Akelarre took the two place settings at the other end and carried them all the way over to Salem’s right.

A flash of a smile touched the Queen’s lips for just a moment, not that she ever looked away from her book.

Akelarre gave the seat next to her a pat, and Velvet reluctantly took her place. She wasn't sure where to look, but the grin from the man sitting across from her caught her attention and his smile widened when he saw her looking his way. “You’re a faunus!” he said.

“Um,” was Velvet’s reply. She couldn’t exactly hide her ears.

“Me too!” With that, the man waved a barb-tipped tail around, the head of it whipping around his head. “I’m Tyrian. I live to serve my lady goddess. Are you the same for my goddess’ sweet child?”

Hearing someone call Salem the immortal Queen of the Grimm a goddess didn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things she had heard that day.

“Wait,” Akelarre said, raising a hand to pause the man. He immediately shut up, all of his attention falling onto Akelarre with the kind of awe and wonder in his eyes that Velvet had never seen before. “Are you an arthropod faunus?”

“I am, I am!” Tyrian said. “I’m a scorpion faunus.” He brought his tail around and started petting it. “Did you want to touch?”

“I believe,” Salem said as she closed her book. “That we can save the touching for after dinner.” A dozen of the floating tentacle Grimm slid into the room, humming as they moved towards the dinner table with trays held in their tentacled grasps. “I would rather not allow our meal to grow cold.”

Velvet wasn’t sure what to expect from Grimm food, but it certainly wasn’t a steak with vegetables to the side covered with a fine sauce and sprinkled with spices. The portions were divided and placed like something in the really expensive restaurants Coco was always wishing she could visit.

Salem carefully picked a knife and fork from the selection laid out around her and started cutting into her steak. Tyrian just grabbed his with one hand and bit into it and Akelarre hummed as a praying mantis the size of a cat climbed onto the table and started chopping her steak into bite-sized pieces.

Velvet hesitated a little before she picked the same knife and fork as Salem and cut into her meal. She figured that it was probably safe to eat. And the steak was too big to be human meat. She hoped.

The tentacle Grimm started pouring wine into goblets before Salem and Tyrian, but they only had water for Akelarre and Velvet. “My daughter tells me you attend Beacon,” Salem said.

Velvet didn’t know if it was a question or not. “Um, yes. I’m in my second year.” She would have mentioned her team, but the more separation between her and Coco the better.

“So, you go to Ozma’s little academy. You know, this isn’t the first time he has pushed for more education for his so-called Huntsmen. Though I don’t recall him ever acting as the headmaster in person.”

“Ozma?” Velvet asked.

Salem nodded before taking a sip of wine. “Yes. I do believe he calls himself Ozpin now. He changes faces as often as I change clothes.”

“But you’ve been wearing the same dress since I met you,” Akelarre said.

Salem looked down at her fine black dress and languidly shrugged one shoulder. “Yes.”

“You know Headmaster Ozpin?” Velvet asked.

Maybe she had fought him before. He was a very brave and well-known huntsman, one of the best. All the history books talked about him and his Huntsman Cards were worth a lot.

“We were married for a century or two.”

“Oh.”