#berdea cid

Yet another installment in the ongoing Winter Schnee sage. I shall be tagging it under formerlyrunphoenix6769 rwby fanfiction to make it easy to find. 

Please feel free to like, share and comment. I would really appreciate your feed back. 

                                  A Rogue Comes to Visit.

A heavy blanket of mist had rolled down the mountain enveloping the vast Schnee estate, draping everything it touched in a thick layer of moisture. No sunlight twinkled off droplets, both absorbed by the dull grey that stretched as far as the eye could see. It had been weeks since the night of her Father’s bombshell and he had remained true to his word cancelling all of her up and coming engagements.

Nestled in a deep window seat above the only working radiator in the room that gurgled and knocked, Winter stared out of the window into the foggy gloom, choosing to ignore the book in her lap and the droning of the tutor as he paced back and forth his scholarly robes flapping behind him. In the middle of the room at a small desk, Weiss listened intently absorbing his every word, her pen flying across the paper in loops and swirls as she eagerly committed every nugget of information to the page.   Outside, the trees naked of plumage reached up their blacked limbs, twisted and gnarled, like hands reaching for the heavens grasping at the last vestiges of life. One large tree seemed to ripple, as black feathers ruffled and a thousand beady eyes watched and waited.

A dark grey and black uniform passed in front of the window obscuring Winter’s view as they strolled back and forth along the promenade that ran around the mansion. She watched as one proceeded to wiggle his fingers in the granite fountain at the entrance to the path that would lead to the now half empty stable yard, his shouts causing the flock of birds to alight from their roost screeching and cawing at his rude intrusion.

No subtlety had been given in the sudden rise in security at the Schnee homestead. A private security firm rather than the usual personnel from the SDC, these men and women looked battle hardened with a steely glint in their eyes and wore their weapons openly as they proceeded on their rounds.  

The strain of providing for the extra personnel had done nothing to improve Klein’s mood either, his grumpy persona coming more to the fore as he grumbled about the private contractors and their lack of regard for the household staff as they questioned and inspected everything going in and coming out of the stately home.

Winter could only wonder at the exact nature of it as she had witnessed the stony faced sentinels skulking about the hallways of the entrances to the East Wing where their mother had been cloistered since the revelation. Even Jacques departure with Whitley, who he had taken to keeping close by his side, did nothing to rouse the Schnee matriarch from her solitude.

“Miss Schnee!” the tutor barked, cutting into her moment of reflection. “At what temperature does dust go from a solid to a liquid?”

Winter returned his question with a blank stare.

Weiss sat on the edge of her seat, her hand waving in the air, her little chest puffed out to the point Winter was fully convinced she might take flight if not for the desk grounding her.  Ignoring her sister, the tutor continued,

“I would think that as the Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, you would want to know this?”

Winter replied with a haughty tone,

 “And I would think that as an esteemed tutor you would know that it is a trick question!”

Weiss lowered her hand and watched her older sibling wide eyed. The tutor turned on his heel giving Winter his full attention as a wicked smirk twitched at the corner of his lips,

“If you know so much, would you care to elaborate? I am sure your sister would love to hear what wisdom you have gleaned from your years of education.”

Rising to his petty challenge and bid to humiliate her, Winter returned the parry,

“Certainly- ” Leaving the cosy nest of the windowsill, Winter began to casually stroll about the room, “- Not all types of dust ‘boils’ or ‘melts’ at the same point. Dust, as is it collectively known, is actually a number of different types of minerals often found in individual clusters akin to its surroundings. - ”  She trailed her fingers long the spines of the books on the nearby shelf “- Therefore, its stands to reason that dust with gravity defying properties, one of the rarest types might I add, will not react in the same way that dust with freezing properties shall. The SDC has refineries across the globe, each equipped with the capability to refine each dust type as its properties dictate.”  She teased a book with the emblem of the family sigil embossed in its leather binding from its snug “- Furthermore, the SDC did not become the biggest dust extraction and refining company through sheer monopolisation but rather due to the Schnee name coming to mean excellence and the finest quality of products due to the purity of the dust crystals we provide. Monopolisation of the industry happened after the fact.  Absorbtion of our lesser competitors and implementing the Schnee Dust Company’s refining process thereby improving the quality of dust available on Renmant as a whole was merely good business practices.”

Bowing the board pointer in his hands, the tutor huffed. His features became pinched. As he opened his mouth to speak the large grandfather clock began to chime. Snapping the book closed, Winter returned it to its place before turning on her heel and leaving the room without another word.

Ignoring the security guards, Winter began to make her way down the corridor that would lead back into the main house, stewing over her predicament. Where as once over her afternoons had been filled with Violet, training, or taking to the saddle now she was expected in the parlour practising the accursed cello, the same piece of music over and over until she could play it by ear. It was a strict instruction laid down by her Father, who expected her to play the piece for him without sheet music when he returned.

How could she take up her mother’s plea to leave as soon as the opportunity arose if there was nothing she could do in the way of skills that could provide for her?

If it wasn’t for her brother being with him, she would wish the airship would explode with her father in it.  At least that way all their problems would be solved.

Behind her she could hear the soles of Weiss’ shoes slapping off the polished floor as she ran to catch up.  From in her skinny arms books threatened to spill and the spindly child tried to hug them to her chest.

“Winter.” came the whine, “Please, some help.”

Rolling her eyes, Winter plucked a few before they could cascade onto the floor. Casting a critical eye over the titles,

“What do you even need these for? Most of them are outdated.” She selected one. “Look at this one… Faunus Anatomy…” She flicked it open to a random page and began to read aloud, as Weiss scurried along side her,  “- The Faunus are incapable of learning. Due to their physiology,….. Blah blah…. the ridges in their cranium suggest a smaller brain, much akin to an animal.” Winter trailed off before snapping it closed, “- Yeah, Weiss, I’m pretty certain this is just racist propaganda.”

With a sniff, Weiss tried to take a superior tone,

“Dr Gnarls Tarquin was a great Scientist who helped discover the evolution of Grimm!”

“He was also a crack pot who died due to inhaling dust and was married to his cousin! Nearly all of his other theories have been disproved.”

Weiss’ brow furrowed at her sister’s counter argument. Hugging her remaining books tight, she tried to match Winter’s gait.

“We don’t have many books on the faunus.”

“And why are you trying to learn about the Faunus?”

“I want to know why they are different.”

“They’re not… Well, not really.”

“Why do they hate humans then? Why do they want to kill us?”

“They don’t!”

“They killed Uncle Russell and his family!”

Winter sighed,

“That was a handful of very bad people who were trying to make a statement. I don’t think that all the Faunus are like the White Fang.”

After her Father’s outburst at the dinner table, Winter couldn’t even be sure if the White Fang were responsible anymore, instead she lay a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“Come on, lets go see Klein and get some lunch.” Casting a sly glance behind her, she spotted the security tailing them at a distance, “- I know a short cut.”

Rounding the corner and out of sight of the guards the teenager picked up the pace encouraging her sister to keep up, she guided the young girl down the wide flowing staircase that led down into a wide entrance lobby. Doubling back round under the staircase and beside a suit of highly polished armour, Winter pressed a panel to reveal a small door cleverly hidden within the lattice work.

She gestured for Weiss to follow. The small girl hesitated on the threshold.  

“I don’t know, Winter,”

Weiss bit her bottom lip and scratched the back of her left calf with her right foot, a dead give away she was nervous.

“Make up your mind, you boob, before those goons see us……” Winter beckoned again,  “It’s quite safe .” Winter assured, “I come down here all the time, it leads down to the kitchens.”

Coming to a decision, Weiss ducked her head and stepped into the gloom, Winter followed easing the door back into its snug so as not to make a sound.

Winter held up her finger to her lips, the heavy footsteps of the guards on the staircase dislodging some of the accumulated dust causing it to rain down, peppering their white hair with grey.

Both girls could hear the voices of the guards,

“Where the hell did they go?”

“I fucking hate this job!”

“Would you shut up!”

“I’m a solider not a glorified babysitter. This not what I signed up for!”

“ It’s a cushty gig. Great pay, bed and board and we don’t get shot at. What more do you want.”

“Dont get shot at? I’d much prefer knowing who the enemy is. The eldest one … I’ve seen that look before… You remember that Faunus village we cleared out, the exact same look….  And I wouldnt put it past the lush going off on one either. Mark my words, this house is gonna go to hell in a…”

The two girls let out the breath they had been holding as the guard’s voices faded out as they moved off. Winter took her sister’s hand, placing it on the back of her waistcoat. Making sure that Weiss had a firm grip she began leading her down the narrow winding pathway.

Weiss whispered,

“What is this? Who built it?”

Winter peered into the gloom, carefully feeling her way long the wall,

“Opa?  I don’t know , maybe an ancestor was paranoid that the local peasants would rise up in revolt and slay them in their beds?”

With a small shaky voice, Weiss whined,

“Winter don’t say that. Father says the White Fang might do that any day now.”

A slight breeze caused errant cobwebs to sway, indicating they were going in the right direction as the pathway twisted and turned. They passed a turn off to the right that Winter knew would lead to a heavily barricaded entrance to the garden. She had yet to explore all the passageway’s off shoots. Feeling a slight change in heat, the teenager took the left opening, carefully placing her feet on each stone flag that made up the staircase that spiraled round and down as Weiss held on tight.

“Father is just trying to scare you. He wants us terrified so we wont do anything he disapproves of.” In a bid to alleviate her younger sibling’s fears, she explained, not unkindly, “- Our house is one of the most secure in Remnant. The White Fang wouldn’t make a move towards this house.  We are so far in the tundra, there is no way a mass group of faunus would make it so far into the country without being detected. We would see them coming a mile away. ”

“But Father said..”

Winter pushed open the door that would lead into one of the official servants service corridors that were doted all over the house as she snapped in annoyance,

“Well Father is a liar!”

“I would be careful saying that out loud,  Miss Winter. The walls have ears.”

Both girls let out a shriek and dropped their books at the voice. Bending down to collect the books in a bid to hide her embarrassment at being so jumpy, Winter mumbled,

“Klein, you nearly gave us a heart attack.”

“Sign of a good butler that is, to be unseen and unheard.”

He comically wiggled his bushy eyebrows at the younger sibling. Taking a handkerchief out of his breast pocket he began to fuss over the pair, wiping  and flicking at errant dust and cobwebs on their grey outfits.

“

Cook made some lovely stew.”

The two girls followed him along the servant’s passageway that widened out. Down here was the warmest part of the mansion, housing the laundry and the kitchens. Bustling with activity, uniformed members of staff nodded and bobbed in acknowledgement as they passed by on their errands. A maid stopped to show Klein some stitching on a piece of linen, who wiped out an eye glass to closer inspect it. The butler nodded and praised the young girl for a job well done.  

Down here, underneath the icy cold indifference of the family they served, it was warm, light hearted  and inviting. It always put Winter in the frame of mind of a rockery. Lift up one of the frozen beautifully carved statues and underneath you would find it teeming with life.

Through one door Winter spied a group of servants polishing the silverware and candle sticks like a dust assembly line, laughing and joking with each other as they worked.

Pausing by an open door, from which wafted the smells of good cooking, Klein called out,

“Mauve, the lil mistresses are here.”

From depths of the kitchens, they heard a jovial voice boom,

“I’ll be along in a minute, deary,”

Klein ushered them further into the bowels of the house finally coming out into a large cosy looking room with a huge fire crackling in the hearth. There was a long table flanked either side with long benches. The blue slate flagged floor shone from being scrubbed. In the far corner next to the fire, a comfortable looking rocking chair and a small table with a set of knitting needles and yarn. Hanging on the walls photos, some new and shiny, others yellowed with age depicting the staff over the years and their masters. Winter paused by one that depicted a huge crowd of staff dressed in black and white old fashioned uniforms outside the front of the Schnee Estate, their faces looking stern. Winter thought she recognised their grandfather as a little boy in shorts that came just above the knees, his white hair messily standing on end.

Weiss looked around in awe at the tall back piano against the far wall. Placing her books on the table she skipped over, she went to touch the keys only to hesitate and look at the butler for permission.  He gave her a fatherly smile.

“Your mother used to come down here and play that when your grandfather was alive. He liked being down here.”

As the youngster slid onto the piano chair, Klein patted a seat on the bench closest to the fire for Winter.  Weiss began to play a beautiful and haunting melody. Never taking her eyes of her younger sibling’s erect back, Winter quietly asked,

“How is Mama?”

Klein poked the fireplace with the poker,

“Don’t fret your pretty little head. We’re all keeping an eye on her.”

Winter sucked on her bottom lip and gave a little sniff,

“I’m worried about her.” She used her finger nail to pick at a splinter in the well worn wood, “We’ve hardly seen her since….. You know..”

Before the butler could reply, a maid came in with a tray laden with bowls and thick fresh loaves and the cook, Mauve,  hot on her heels. Placing the tray on the table, the young woman nodded her head, before beating a hasty retreat and closing the door behind her.

Mauve was dressed in chef whites. Unlike the rest of the household staff she did not have a single accent of grey in her uniform. She was small in stature and rotund, moving with a swift shuffle that belied her size. White hair poked out from under her hat but it was difficult to gauge her age  due to the smoothness of her skin.  Her cheeks were red from being in the heat of the kitchens and her forearms were thick, no doubt from hauling slabs of meat and huge pans on the cooker. She hefted a  huge pot on to the table, wiping her hands on a towel that hung from her apron. With a smile and twinkle on her bright blue eyes, she cajoled the sisters,

“Now then, look at the pair of you. The two luvs look half frozen to death, Klein.” She began to ladle the hot thick stew into the bowls. She inclined her head with a smile, “Come on, Miss Weiss, sit at the table. That’s a good lass.”

Weiss slid off the piano chair and awkwardly tried to clamber over the bench as elegantly as she could in the constricting skirt. Giving up at any attempt, she sat on down on the lip, swinging her legs round, Winter lay a supportive hand to the small of her back so she wouldnt tip over on to the flagstones. Sat in her seat, she shuffled closer to Winter.

Mauve gave the two girls each a huge bowl of stew and a spoon,

“There, get that into you luvs.”

She began to take a knife to the fresh loaves, carving out thick slabs. One of the service bells began to ring out and the phone in the room began to chime.  Klein got up to answer it as Mauve began to slather the bread in huge swaths of butter. With a pout, Weiss gave her stew an experimental poke,

“What is it?”

“It’s a dish from my home town.” The cook admitted as she continued to make a pile of bread big enough to feed an army. Weiss began to dubiously inspect the depths of her bowl. Mauve ladled out some more for herself and the butler. “Its Pot stew.  Perfect dish on a cold day.”

Finished with the call, Klein squeezed Weiss’s shoulders, putting on one of his many accents,

“It will put hairs on your chest, so it will.”

Weiss let out a gleeful giggle, kicking her legs,

“I don’t want a hairy chest, cause I won’t be able to wear gowns like Mama.”

Selecting some of the bread, Winter began to tear it up, dropping it into her stew. Using the spoon she dunked it before taking a spoonful. Weiss seemed to hold back, watching and waiting for her sister’s reaction.  Biting into her spoonful, Winter’s mouth was awash with flavours, the beef was tender and the potatoes soft, the carrots and onions broke on her tongue. The homemade stock was full of aromas that set the taste buds aflame. Winter hadn't realised how hungry she was as she eagerly attacked her bowl. Not to be out done, Weiss took a spoonful only to hum delightedly at the taste. Klein threw Winter a wink as he tucked a napkin into his collar began to eat his own and Mauve watched like a proud mother hen at her hungry brood.

“Nobody on Remnant can hold a candle to Mauve’s stew.”

Winter couldn’t tell if the ruddiness of the cook’s cheeks was a blush or from the heat of the room.  Mauve swatted at Klein with her towel, who ducked and gave her a toothy grin. She poured out three glasses of  fresh water before taking a seat in the rocking chair by the fire and began to knit. The fire crackled in the hearth as Mauve rocked back and forth, humming a soothing tune. The clinking of cutlery off the porcelain as the food was hungrily devoured joined it’s chorus. Looping another thread over the needle, Mauve asked,

“What was the call?”

“It was the Mistress..”

Winter’s head shot up and Weiss spoon paused half way. Cook continued to make another loop,

“What did she want?”

“She has a guest.”

“She does?”

“I asked Gray to see to it.” He leisurely dunked his bread into the broth, “- When you’ve finished your lunch, she would like to see you, Winter.”

Winter went to stand up, only for Cook to take a mock stern tone, never looking up from her knitting needles,

“Young lady, sit down and finish your lunch. I didn’t slave over a hot stove all day for you to be running off and gallivanting about the place half starved. Not on my watch.”

Winter’s bum collided with the bench at the slight reprimand. Klein pulled a comical face to Weiss causing the young girl to laugh.

Hesitantly, Winter asked,

“Can Weiss come too?”

“Don’t see why not. Mistress didn’t say not to.”

Knitting needles clicked in a steady rhythm making a soothing sound as Winter began to wonder at who the guest could be. Weiss reclaimed one of her books, propping it against her water glass, eyes glued to the words on the page as she continued to haphazardly reach out for the bread plate. Winter moved it closer to the searching hand and stifled a laugh at the youngster dipping her slender finger tips into the butter. Mauve broke the relatively comfortable silence,

“How is your schooling?”

Before Winter could reply, Weiss began to excitedly babble about their lessons. Mauve and Klein listened intently, nodding and awwing at all the appropriate moments. Weiss announced,

“And Winter was cheeky with the tutor.”

“Urrgh , you’re such a tattle tale!” Winter gave her sister a poke in the ribs, “Klein, tell her what happens to tattle tales”

Mauve and Klein replied in unison,

“You slowly become a Grimm.”

Weiss asked, with suspicion,

“What type of Grimm?”

Once again the service bell began to tinkle. Klein cast a glance at the numerous bells set in a row up high, underneath each one a brass plaque with the name of the room written in cursive. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, the butler announced,

“I think your Mother is ready for you. It looks like she is in the conservatory in the East Wing.”

Both girls graciously thanked Mauve for the meal. Weiss hurriedly tried to collect her books only for Klein to assure her not to worry, that they would be in her bedroom later. Winter grabbed a napkin,

“Hold still.”

She dabbed at the younger girl’s mouth making sure that all evidence of lunch had disappeared. It wouldn’t do to turn up to an audience with their mother and her guest looking like a pauper. Weiss crinkled her nose at the onslaught as Winter chided,

“How did you manage to get more of it on your face than in your mouth?”

As they were about to leave, Weiss dashed back to grab the book she was reading before following her sister to the door.

“Thankyou.”

“You come down here any time you like luvs.”

 ----xx----

At the entrance to the conservatory, Winter paused to straighten her appearance and make sure her sister’s hair was perfect.

“Don’t tell Mama about the passage,” She smoothed a small wisps of hair behind Weiss ears, “- And don’t tell Mama about the tutor.” Weiss silently nodded. Winter made sure her shirt was tucked in and her black lace bow was straight, “- In fact, don’t say anything about anything, ok?”

Pushing open the glass doors into the conservatory the two girls were hit by a sweltering heat. Here their mother teased plants back to life. No expense had been spared in what Winter could only come to think was essentially a green house. It was the biggest collection of global flora in the country outside the of Atlas Botanical Gardens. Trees from Menagerie carefully cultivated sat along side bright and colourful flowers from the floating islands of Mistral. Leafy plants towered over the pair as they navigated the yellow winding paths. Somewhere the soothing noise of a babbling water feature permeated through the plant life.

Snippets of conversation drifted through the undergrowth guiding the siblings towards their destination.

Rounding past a rather wide and bushy plant from the far reaches of Vacuo that would sting you as soon as you looked at it, Winter and her sister came upon their mother bent over a flower bed, deep in conservation, her partner obscured from view,

“As you can see, the Clananis is rather deadly. It is the only plant known in human existence to feed both off Grimm and fauna. It’s sap is extremely poisonous if ingested. Even a sting from one of its barbs is known to cause adverse reactions in the brain leaving one in a depressive state.”

A heavy accent replied,

“I do believe it hails from Menagerie and is rather rare to come by?”

Willow took a long sip of her drink,

“Only in certain circles. If one is to be believed.” Willow gave a light laugh. “ It flourishes in Anima so I am told.”

Grey stood to attention beside a table laden with drinks. As the two girls approached, he gave a polite cough.

Willow turned at the interruption. Her eyes alighting on her daughters, she broke into a huge smile.

“Ah, my darlings.”  She placed her glass on a nearby table, approaching the two girls with her arms out stretched. Weiss ran forward into her mother’s arms, hugging her round the middle. Winter remained at a distance, watching as her mother sank into a nearby chaise and patted the seat beside her which Weiss eagerly took. She observed as her mother’s every action was ever so slightly delayed. Willow beckoned over Winter and her guest, “- Come sit. Ciddy, darling, These are my daughters. Weiss.” She affectionately stroked her fingers through the little girl’s long ponytail, “And my eldest, Winter. I believe you have already met?”

Winter gasped as the guest came into view. His beard was gone, replaced by a well trimmed pencil moustache and tiny goatee favoured by the upper echelons of the sea faring merchants of Silas and port towns of Vacuo. His hair was neatly drawn back into a short and low stub of a ponytail that rested at the nuque . A golden earring twinkled in his left ear and he was decked in brightly coloured clothing decidedly warmer than when the last time she saw him.

“Mr Cid!”

His face broke into a wolfish grin,

“Hello, pampered little Schnee.”

Her mother broke into loud laughter.

“That is what you used to call me.”

Berdea Cid gave a chuckle as he took the other chair,

“Amongst other things.”

Gesturing to Grey to make another drink, Willow added,

“Oh you cad.. It’s good to see that some people haven’t changed.”

 “But Mama, I don’t understand.” Winter took a cautious step forward, “- What is he doing here?”

Drawing back her long sleeves to reveal her pale arms, Willow graciously accepted her beverage,

“Don’t you remember, darling?” Willow took a sip of her drink, her eyes briefly closing in satisfaction, “ You wanted to learn the Combat Sabre …. This was the man I was speaking of.”

Berdea looked up at Winter, eyes dancing with mirth,

NaNoWriMo,  08/11/18

Teenage Winter Schnee fic.. 

Chaps 1 -4 here 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500653/chapters/38646758

Hope you enjoy. 

Part 3 C  *unedited*

Wearing her first place sash over her chest and with large silver shield in hand, Jacques began to parade his daughter round the room.  Each time they stopped at a group of people so they could congratulate her on the win, he would gloat about her dedication or how he pushed her to be the best she could be.

The way he carried on it was as he had won it himself.

Each time the conversation would drift to business or politics. Again, for the fourth time, she heard the same boring topic,

“Surely Jacques, a man in your position can’t deny that the economic disparity between Atlas and Mantle is astronomical?”

Like he was holding court, the practised CEO controlled the narrative, guiding it in the direction that benefitted the conglomerate.   Making sure that the people he deemed necessary over heard what he wished them to.

“We at the SDC are friends of the faunus and are doing our best to help facilitate economic growth in the area. “ Jacques’ took the diamond cute tumbler of Mountain Glen whiskey, “Why just yesterday, the Schnee Family made a large donation to the fund. My wife is on the board of directors, which I’m sure you know.”

She rankled at his use of her mother’s  for his own end.

At the other side of the stage Winter watched with seething jealousy as the other teenagers hung about, laughing and joking with each other, playing games on their scrolls, relaxed and carefree after such an intense number of months.

Why did she have to stand here, like an Atlesian automaton?

“You look bored shitless.” A whisper came in her ear, causing Winter to startle, Cassandra Nikos laughed encasing her in an over the shoulder hug from behind, “Accents of red suits you like that, you should try incorporate it into your motif.”

Cast in the same ballot, the overly affectionate red head had been the only person out of their peers who had seemed genuinely thrilled that the Schnee Heiress had been taking part in the competition.

Strict rules demanded that all competitors must remain in the village with an assigned roommate. No exceptions to the rules, no matter how her father fussed.  Three roommates had made requests for a transfer until Cassandra had breezed through the door, dumped her bag and dived onto the bed. At first Winter had been cautious, afraid that she was a hanger on, or worse, a competitor looking for an edge, but over the last few months sharing rooms at the numerous competitions, the girl’s genuinely friendly demeanour had won her over and it could almost be said that Winter considered the Argus girl a friend of sorts. Up until recently the two girls had kept a scroll correspondence back and forth, keeping the young teenager abreast of new music and swapping hair and make-up tips, some which had ended with disastrous results.

“Why don’t you come join us?”

Winter shot a glance in her father’s direction, following her eye, Cassandra nodded knowingly.

“Oh, right…. But he can’t do anything about me staying here.”  She retrieved her scroll from her pocket, finger making a pattern in the screen,“- How come you deleted your Grimmstagram?

At the question, Winter shifted uncomfortably. What could she tell the only person who had shown any interest in her past her money, name or status? She could hardly tell her the vulgar messages and comments that had flooded her inbox describing in detail all the ways she and anyone she was associated with were going to die. How as a Schnee, she deserved to be violated in the most vicious of ways. It would only serve to frighten off the only person Winter could think of as a peer. Attempting to play it off as cool, she cryptically parted,

“Oh, I just wanted to take a break from social media.. You know, just concentrate on the tournament.”

“So you haven’t heard what Ralph Adel did then?”

Ralph Adel, from one of only a few families on Remnant who could come anywhere close to vying the vast amounts of wealth the Schnee family possessed, was a CCT sensation, renowned for his antics in the playgrounds of the affluent.  More often than not, he was caught on the wrong side of the law only to get let off with a slap on the wrist. He could often be found smiling down from gigantic billboards or strolling the cat walk at Atlas Fashion week, modelling his mother’s creations, when not doing yet another court mandated stint in re-hab.

Rolling her eyes and going against her better judgement, she asked,

“Go on… Tell me what the cretin has done now.”

Glad to be the messenger of the salacious gossip, Cassandra animatedly began,

“He’s only gone and crashed his father’s yacht off the coast of Silas somewhere. He was drunk or something. Ran it a ground.. .. 10 million lien, down to the bottom of the deep blue sea.” Cassandra showed her pictures on her scroll, “Look at that!”  The images flicked quickly as the girl continued to prattle on, “- He tried to claim the White Fang stole it and then that a Grimm attacked the ship. .. He got an extra million followers for his troubles”

If I did anything like that, my father would thrash me, Winter thought.  If she so much as split a drop of water on the upholstery on the furniture she got a dressing down of a life time.

“So what’s the story with you and the faunus boy? “

Catching her off guard, Winter sputtered,

“What? … Nothing… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Cassandra giggled, teasing good naturedly,

“I saw the way you were looking at him… You fancy him!”

“No, I do not!.... I don’t have time for such childish…. Idiotic… Notions… Dating is stupid..”

“I think the lady doth protest too much!-“ A mischievous glint appeared in Cassandra’s eye causing Winter to internally panic,”- You won’t mind if I call him over then?”

“Cassie… Don’t..” Winter hissed.

It was too late,

“Khenet!!” Using her extra height, Cassandra waved over the crowd. “Over here!”

Winter watched with dread as the faunus boy began to saunter over, holding up a plate over flowing with food as he navigated the his way through the crowd followed closely by his fencing instructor. As he drew closer, Cassandra pulled an over the top comical face, before nearly skipping over to him,

“Hey, Khenny,” She stroked her fingers down his arm, breathing in a flirtatious voice “-Winter was just telling me how much of a magnificent swords man you are.”

“Finally admitted did you?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her,

Winter bit back,

“I said nothing of the sort.”

Graciously, he offered out his plate and Winter caught the way his eyes roved over Cassandra as she made a huge display of being unable to decide between a delicate Valish cream puff or a beautifully crafted Mistrali sushi roll. After making her selection, he offered it out to Winter. All the different foods on offer were piled on top of each other. Carefully, Winter reached for what looked like a safe bet, a plain cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off, only for Khenet to ever so slightly pull it away in jest.

“Why am I not surprised!”

Winter the small white bread sandwich  from the top of the pile, biting back the urge to stick out her tongue.  Taking a superior tone,

“I don’t want to risk food poisoning. It is my sister’s birthday and I want to be able to enjoy the birthday cake. We flew in a pastrie chef especially from Vale for the occasion.”

“You’re such a snob!”

The President of Remnant’s Fencing Commission suddenly appeared, accosted the trio before an argument could erupt.

“There you are! I have been looking all over for you three.” She beckoned over a photographer, “ A picture for the wall and for the Atlas Times.” Taking the plate from Khenet, who comically skewered another piece of sushi, she asked, “Where are your coaches?”

From behind her tripod the photographer gestured for them to stand closer together. Khenet’s coach gulped his wine, to stand rather unsteadily behind his charge in his light blue sash that clashed with the colours of his garments. Cassandra’s mother, stunningly beautiful and statuesque, took place beside her daughter, fretting over the gold chains that dangled from her daughter’s head dress. Winter took the middle, brandishing the large shield in front that threatened to swamp her. Plastering a fake smile on her face she tried not to think about Violet, how proud she would be, how she deserved to be up here having worked just as hard.

“Where is your coach, Miss Schnee?”

Her father’s voice came like a knife down her spine, as he stood behind her,

“Unfortunately, Miz Hildebrand had a rather important prior engagement to attend to.”

The Vacouan instructor muttered,

“What, more important than seeing her first champion crowned?”

Winter tried to stay erect as she waited for his heavy hands to rest on her shoulders. Instead a warm arm pulled her into a hug and Cassandra pulled a goofy face.  Khenet burst into laughter and the photographer began clicking away, the flashes flickering in quick succession as the trio took their pose. Cassandra planted a kiss on Winter’s cheek and not to be out done, Khenet placed one on the other.

A chorus of awws and the flutter of applause at the display of sportsmanship, rippled through the small gathering of those that witnessed the intimate moment.  

Satisfied, the photographer began to search through the images.

“It’s for the Atlas Times, is there anything you want to say?”

Determined that her father could not make good on his threat to ostracise the woman she held so dear, Winter mustered her courage,  

“Yes…. I want it said, ‘I could not have done this without my coach, Violet Hildebrand,” She peered over the photographer’s shoulder, making sure she was getting everything done word for word. “- And an intrinsic part of who I have become, she taught me strength and perseverance. It is after careful consideration that, Violet, my Father and I have come to the decision that I am to retire from fencing in this capacity and progress to the Combat Sabre, and I hope to be ready as soon as the President of the Commission sees fit as to give me the all clear. It is due to this mutually agreed upon decision that we have sorrowfully parted ways. Thankyou.”

At her words, Cassandra’s green eyes widened and her grip on Winter’s waist became painfully tight,

“Jesus Schneester, he’s going to kill you.”

“Probably..  But at least it shall be for a good reason, rather than crashing a yacht.”

Casting her eyes over the small gathering as her words began to ripple through, she spied her father attempting to smile and nod as various people congratulated him on such forward thinking.

“Yes, yes.. My daughter takes after her Grandfather. He was also a famed Combat Sabreist.”

His dyed white moustache twitched at the left hand corner, as he held out his glass to be refilled. Never taking his eyes off his daughter, he began to approach. For a moment, Winter went to take a step back, thankful that Cassandra’s arm remained as the red head called out,

“Daddy!”

A short stocky man with a barrel chest and heavy muscular arms that looked as if they were ready to burst out of the seams of his Atleasian style shirt strolled over with an a swagger that belied his small size.

“Pumpkin!” He exuberantly bellowed, encasing both girls in a bone crushing hug. “So proud of you.”

For a split second Winter was afraid to exhale in case it was the last lungful of oxygen she would ever suck into her lungs.  The man let go giving both girls a gentle pat on the back with his Ursa sized hands. Cassandra still cuddled him close round the middle and Winter could not control the small flash of jealousy at the affection that she would never have.

Auber Nikos turned, held up his flute that looked so tiny in his rather large hand.  

“Gele! A toast to the victors of today!”

“Nikos,” Jacques tone came out clipped, “I go by the name of Schnee now.”

“Oh .. yes.. How could I forget,” The russet haired man’s green eyes twinkled with mirth from out from under his bushy eyebrows as he leaned down to Winter like a conspirator, “We used to pal around at boarding school together.”

Listening intently as Auber Nikos began to regale the group with stories about the high jinks they would all get up to as young boys, much to her Father’s chagrin, Winter began to wonder if that was the reason by he was so adamantly refused to allow her to attend such a place. Finishing off a tale about scaring the daylights out of a young Jacques with a fake Grimm costume that had caused him to run screaming like a little girl through the dormitory, much to the amusement of everyone in attendance,  Auber’ s shoulders shook with mirth.

“My eldest boy couldn’t wait to go.”

Jacques added, drily,

“Yes, a place that prized brawn over brains, if I recall.”

If Auber Nikos heard the snide insult, he didn’t outwardly show it, instead he let out a booming laugh, causing most of the people in the room to look in their direction.

“How are your brothers? Perry and Gunther, right?”

“Gunther took over the family business as was expected.”

“Grapes wasn’t it?”

“A vineyard!”  Her father corrected.

Khenet butted in,

“It’s still just grapes though isn’t it?” He gave Winter a cheeky wink as he stuffed a truffle vol-au-vant in his mouth, Winter swallowed a smirk that threatened to spread across her face as her father bristled. Khenet spoke with his mouth full of pastry, making the motions with his sandals,  “I ..erd … hoo squiv…em.. wiv. Bare . feeet?”

Jacques glared daggers at the young boy.

Mrs Nikos diplomatically cut in,

“We saw Pierre recently.”

As Mrs Nikos’ gushed about her uncle, Winter watched  her father’s knuckles take on a hint of white as he gripped his drink.  They hadn’t seen him in years, preferring the company of men, her father had taken great pains to create a distance between him and the family name in case it tainted it somehow.

“It must be something to have such an accomplished ballet dancer at your disposal?”

Taking a controlled sip of his drink, Jacques replied,

“Quite… Unfortunately, as you can see, Winter doesn’t quite have the stature for it, her sister, Weiss on the other hand is coming along exceptionally well.”

The insult cut to the core. It wasn’t her fault that her physic had taken after her mother rather than her father’s.

“I never had the aptitude for it.” Winter spoke in her defence, “I much prefer horse riding and gymnastics anyways. Both instil and encourage a great sense of balance and low centre of gravity.”

Mrs Nikos’ gave the young girl a pitiful look as Auber said,

“Oh I don’t know, what was it you said Cassie?”

Hugging Winter to her,  the teenager said,

“She is so small and nimble I wasn’t able to land a hit on her.”

Before her father could reply they were interrupted by a boisterous shout,

“If it isn’t my old master!” The Senior World Champion clapped the Vacuoan coach on the back, “- I see you’re still milling about.” He nodded at Khenet, “-Well done, lad. I hope your keeping him on his toes?”

Clasping the young man in a hug, the coach grinned,

“Blue, my boy, I see the military suits you well. The last time I saw you, you were a pigeon chested runt.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would never have been a champion in the first place,” Blue parted, “Stick with him lad. I was absolute fodder before he got a hold of me.”

“Excuse me, Mister.” A timid voice asked, “Are you a Huntsman?”

Blue looked round to find the source of the question.  Cassandra ushered a carbon copy of herself forward. Wide green eyes looked up at the Huntsman in awe.

“Well…” He paused,

“Pyrrha.”

Grinning, he continued,

“In the military we refer to ourselves as Specialists. But yeah, I am a Huntsman.”

“Is that what you use to hunt monsters?”

Resting a gloved hand on the pommel of his sword at his hip, he gave a nod,

“Would you like to see?”

Pyrrha began to vibrate with excitement.

“Ok..” He held out a hand, “Stand back. Wouldn’t want it to mistake you for a Grimm, now would we?”

In amusement at his display for the benefit of the little girl, the teenagers created a bit of space. Satisfied they were at a safe distance Blue unsheathed his sword with a flourish.  Light running along the steel’s polished surface it gleamed as he turned it slightly to show off the razor sharp edge. It looked to Winter like a living thing and she could imagine it calling out, itching to be used and vanquish it foes.

Even Khenet couldn’t hide his admiration of the blade as his ears gave him away, swivelling and twitching, though he tried to look disinterested and unimpressed.  Winter internally scoffed as Cassandra’s eyes never left the handsome soldier’s face.  

Could she be anymore blatant?

“This ..” The Specialist began to explain, pointing at a barrel beautifully crafted to be hidden and protected behind the coquille, “- is where the dust cartridges go..” He gave the empty barrel an experimental flick. It clicked as it smoothly spun in the wheel house. With a gloved finger he pointed to a slight groove that ran the whole length of the steel. “- The dust travels down along here to the tip… and when I’m ready .. I slice!”  He turned, pointing it away from the youngsters before giving a demonstration… “Then BOOOOMPHHCHCH!.. the monster explodes!”

Pyrrha stared up at him with rapt attention as he sheathed his sword,

“Do you want to be a Huntress?”

Barely able to contain her enthusiasm, Pyrrha nodded enthusiastically.

“I want to go to Beacon or Haven like Cassie.”

“You’re going to Haven? “

At suddenly being the sole focus of his attention a blush crept across Cassandra’s cheeks and she nervously plucked at her nails,

“I haven’t decided which yet, but I’ve put myself forward for an early admission.”

“Can’t sway you to join Atlas, no?” With doe eyes, Cassandra shook her head, “And you?”

Khenet scowled,

“I’ll stick to Shade, if its ok by you?”

Blue laughed off the boy’s sullen demeanour,

“It pays for a young man to know his own mind.”

Grousing, the Vacouan instructor plucked a sandwich of a platter on a nearby table,

“Why is it all my best students leave to go to all those infernal academies?  Just for once I’d like one to stick around!”

Sticking out his chest and standing at military ease, Blue proudly announced,

“When duty calls, one must answer.”

Resting a firm hand on Winter’s shoulder, her father smoothly interjected,

“My daughter knows all about duty as she’ll be taking a position at the SDC once her education is complete. Huntsman and Huntresses, it’s a noble cause to be sure. Its keeps our borders safe, but it is hardly a profession befitting a young lady. This swords play is merely a hobby for her.”

As a body guard whispered something in her father’s ear, Winter could feel their eyes on her making her ears burn. She willfully returned their gaze.  Jacques addressed the group,

“Everybody, I bid you good evening. We must be going if we want the airship to take off before the storm hits. Come along Winter.”

Her father set off across the room with long strides, his body guards clearing a path as if he was some great king and they his subjects. Winter politely shook hands with everyone, catching Cassandra silently motion, ‘call me.’   As she began following her father the teenager heard just on the edge of earshot, Mr and Mrs Nikos’,

“What a horrible man….Can you believe he said that about his own daughter and in front of her?”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.  He always was a nasty piece of work. There was a reason why we dusted him to a flag pole.

(Winter Schnee Fanfic from my h/c I used to have from my old blog. I shall be tagging this under   formerlyrunephoenix6769 rwby fanfic  to make chapters easier to find)

                                 A Fondant Charade. 

In the cavernous dining room, dominated by a long cherry wood dining table, Winter and her siblings stood obediently and silent by their respective seats, waiting for their parents to arrive. Within the gargantuan intricately carved fireplace, the fire crackled. Even with its large size it failed to heat the vast space.

Light from mixture of dust infused candles and the fireplace twinkled off the silverware and place settings dotted along the surface of the luxurious, gleaming wood, casting the far corners in gloom. At intervals, serving staff stood to attention, barely visible in depths of the shadows where the mood lighting could not reach, helped by their carefully chosen blue and grey uniforms created specifically to conceal them from their Master’s eyes.

Winter’s gaze landed on the hideous artwork her Father had chosen to replace what had once been a beautiful oil painting of the Schnee family, depicting her grandfather, mother, grandmother and uncle in their younger days.

The doors on the left suddenly opened allowing in a bright shaft of light that caused the silverware to glitter and wink briefly before her father entered, casting his shadow, long and looming across the table’s surface. Opposite her, Weiss stood to stiff attention and little Whitley’s hair, stark white in contrast to the dark accents of the furnishings, was just visible over the lip of the table’s edge.

Winter tried to remain focused on the garish painting. It was said to depict some great conquest during the Great War, but if you looked closely enough you could make out the slight Faunus traits of the slaughtered and the subtle likeness of their father upon the features of the victorious leader.

The sound of a wooden chair being scrapped back across the polished floorboards indicated that he had taken his place at the head of the table. Each child remained as if a statue carved from granite, knowing the reprimand that they would face if they were to break the rigorously enforced etiquette expected of their status.

Her little sister began to crinkle her nose, bobbing up and down like an Atleasian marchhare. She moved as is to scratch it, pausing when she caught Winter’s barely detectable shake of her head. The teenager felt his critical gaze lingering before he cast it upon Weiss. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, checking his silver pocket watch.

“Where is she?”

A servant hesitantly offered,

“Mistress Willow was in the East Wing, Sir.”

Whitely began to fidget.

The businessman's moustache twitched with a sickle of dissatisfaction.

“She is aware….”

Suddenly their mother swept open the double doors behind their father, a waft of lillies proceeding her.

“Sorry, darlings.”

Dressed in a gown of whites and light blues, she swept into the room walking with a grace very few naturally possessed or could perfect. Approaching Winter, she gently touched her shoulder, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss upon the teenager’s cheek, causing her to flinch as soft lips faintly pressed against her injury. Pulling back, her mother tenderly examined her face, her grey eyes alighting on her cheek,

“Darling, what happened to your face?”

Having no wish to mar Weiss’ special day by causing an argument, Winter avoided her gaze,

“I was careless during training.”

This close, Winter witnessed the miniscule steely flicker of a glance in the direction of Jacques before coming back to rest on her. Without a hint of reproach, her mother parted,

“You must wear your mask at all times, Darling.”

Registering the loaded meaning, Winter gave a weak nod, belying the urge to seek out the comfort she so greatly wished for. Over at the far side of the table the little boy began to fuss. Willow gave him a smile, gesturing for them to sit. Whitley, too small to make it onto the booster seat looked around, holding out his arms to his mother only for a servant to swoop in and situate the little boy. In a bid to hide her disappointment, Willow announced,

“Winter, I think that moving onto the Sabre is a marvellous idea, keeping Father’s legacy alive. Your Opa would be proud, as am I-” Winter and Weiss both took their seats sparking the various servants to quickly come to life as their mother continued, “- I believe that with this progression, you shall be in need of a new instructor.-”

A waiter began to move about the room, decanting clear crisp water into everyone's glasses. From his vantage point, Jacques held out his whiskey tumbler,

“Yes… I “

“All the necessary arrangements have been made.” Taking a sip of her water, Willow motioned for the wine to be decanted. “I think you will find him to your liking..”

“Who?” Her father growled.

Winter observed as her father fixed Willow with a glare. If her mother noticed, she ignored it as satisfied with her beverage, she waved away the servant.

“He is an old pupil of my father’s and a champion in his own right. …” She took a moderate sip of her wine.”- We were lucky to get him as it would seem that he is in high demand.” She turned her attentions to her youngest daughter. “- Weiss, sweetheart, which menu did you decide upon.”

The little girl opened her mouth as if to speak only to be cut off by her father with a steely tone,

“You know I don’t like it when I am not consulted.”

“I think in this particular for instance I am far more qualified than you.”

The servants and wait staff began to enter the room in an endless stream, arms laden with dishes from which wafted delicious smells that caused Winter’s stomach to rumble. Made from ingredients from the far flung corners of Remnant, no expense had been spared, as the opulent and beautifully crafted dishes were slowly revealed. Weiss and Whitley’s eyes sparkled at the artistic creations. Jacques ignored the serving staff,

“Still-” Never taking his eyes off his wife, he shook out his napkin, tucking it into his shirt collar, “- I wish to be consulted.”

Willow elegantly teased her own napkin from its silver holder, demurely placing it on her lap as was correct etiquette in their circles.

“The opportunity didn’t arise.”

Taking the cue from their mother the two girls copied her whilst Whitley was helped by a member of the serving staff. Plucking fresh tomatoes still on the vine, Jacques added peevishly,

“A scroll call wouldn’t have been remiss.”

Willow gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she selected olives from a nearby dish,

“Well, you are always telling me how busy you are, and quite frankly I felt it would be of no concern to you.”

A muscle began to work in Jacques jaw and his eyebrows furrowed.

Winter steeled herself for the barrage, focusing on a particular whorl in the cherry wood.

Her father would whittle away, passing snide remarks until their mother would retreat to the sun lounge in the East Wing, but recently their embittered squabbling had begun to take a turn for the worse, frequently devolving into full blown screaming arguments.

Could they not for one day leave it at the door, for Weiss’ sake?

“Miss?” She looked up at the server in his pristine uniform and stark white gloves, that Winter could only assume served the purpose to make his jobs more difficult, waiting expectantly, “Starter?”

“What would you suggest?”

“The bisque, Miss. It comes from the finest ingredients from the seas at the southernmost tip of Vale. I believe it is Miss Weiss’ favourite.”

Looking at her sister, who vibrated, Winter gave the server a nod. She leaned back slightly as he began to ladle the thick liquid into a finebone Mistrali bowl, hating every action he took, how he used the silver tongs to select the soft white rolls, how he placed a small bowl of butter beside her.

She observed as Weiss and Whitley pointed at the rolls they wished for and waited patiently for their servers to prepare them. Every time it made her feel as if she was an invalid. He went as if to break the roll and spread butter on it. Winter stopped him, taking the roll from the tongs,

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

Once done, the servers disappeared back into the shadows. Overwhelmingly oppressive silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of silverware against porcelain, the wood crackling in the hearth and the laborious ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner. Winter shivered against the coldness in the vast distance between her parents that no amount of heat could thaw. Her mother indicated for another glass of wine as her father finished his famed Mountain Glen whiskey.

Whitley happily humming to himself as Weiss primly placed her soup spoon to the side indicating that she had finished. Another round of servers cleared their dishes and the whole rig moral began again, as each person selected their main. Winter’s fork hovered over her grouse as she heard her mother begin,

“I went to the office today.”

Without missing a beat, Jacques’ pink tongue flicked out to catch the pale flesh of veal that threatened to tip from his fork, “Is that so?” The meat continued on its journey around his mouth, it was as if witnessing a troughing Boartusk. “I was under the impression that you were with the other useless socialite housewives.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Willow paused to put down her silverware, “- When it was brought to my attention that you have called off the search for the missing miners.”

Her father continued to attack his meal with gusto,

“As is company policy.”

“Then change it.”

“We have adhered to our legal obligation.”

Winter resumed moving the bright pink meat around her plate in a bid to avoid catching either of her parent’s eyes. Their bickering reminding the teenager of her fencing matches.

“It has only been the minimum of days, Jacques.”

The man stabbed a piece of asparagus,

“Well within regulation.. Besides, if anybody survived, which I highly doubt, they will more than likely be frozen to death.”

With her hands palm down on the table and leaning slightly forward, Willow appealed,

“Jacques, they are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, they have loved ones.”

Jacques chewed on the green stalk,

“And they will be compensated handsomely.”

Willow rose slightly from her seat, pushing her advantage,

“They don’t want our money. They want their loved ones returned to them.. If my father was alive he wouldn’t rest until every last one of them was brought to the surface, safe or not.”

Dropping the fork onto to the plate, her father peevishly spat,

“Well he isn’t, is he?”

Using the napkin, Jacques wiped his mouth and moustache. Crumpling it in his hands he tossed it harshly onto the table. Winter waited for the tell-tale excuses, the tired old rhetoric he would always spout when he lost face and was goaded into showing his true colours.

“Mama, Father, please!” Keeping her head bowed, Winter said, “It is Weiss’ birthday.”

Before she could incur her father’s wrath the doors opened. Proudly wheeling his creation in front of him, the specially employed cake chef entered. With a huge smile, he spoke in a heavy Valish accent,

“Sir, Madam.” He bowed to Weiss, “My Lady.” Weiss beamed at the attention, “I have brought to you today, a work of art like no other.”

Carefully placing it on the table close to the birthday girl, he unveiled it with a flourish.

No attention to detail had been spared. Over a tier and a half of fondant, was a beautifully crafted replica of the Atlas National Opera Stage. A delicately created Weiss stood centre stage, each member of the audience individually crafted. 10 candles were hidden within the fondant, their flames fluttering at the cusp of the dias and above the orchestra pit giving the impression of stage lights. In places the bare velvet cake had been used to give the impression of the luxurious material that hung from the private boxes. Whitley began to enthusiastically clap in delight as the chef took great care to point out to the young girl the miniature recreations of her family in their private box.

“Mama, look!”

Getting up from her seat, Willow began to examine the birthday cake in awe. Touching her hand to the red jewels at her neck, Willow returned the chef’s smile,

“You have simply out done yourself… Thankyou”

Even her father looked slightly impressed. For a moment, in the candle light, they could be mistaken for a happy family, coming together to celebrate. Willow graciously thanked the serving staff, indicating that they could leave.

From the trolley, she retrieved small plates and a cake cutter.

“It seems almost a shame to cut it, doesn’t it?”

Weiss enthusiastically nodded.

Placing the utensils on the table and giving her youngest daughter a squeeze, she asked,

“Winter, let’s get a photograph with your scroll.”

No sooner had the last servant closed the door, Jacques picked back up the argument,

“You do not know the lengths I have gone to keep this family afloat? The hard decisions that need to be made on a daily basis. Imagine the PR disaster, dead Humans with the faunus being brought to the surface. The press would have a field day."

“As opposed to leaving them in an icy grave?”

Weiss face broke with a look of disappointment as their parents resumed their bickering. Fidgeting in her chair, the young girl was barely able to conceal her eagerness to blow out the candles before the dripping wax threatened to melt the carefully crafted fondant. Forgetting the birthday celebration, Willow pressed,

“If you won’t change the policy, then I shall.”

Jacques lit a match, his lips wrapping around a thick cigar,

“My dear, I think you may find that rather difficult.” His eyes became hooded in a bid to hide from the blue smoke that curled at the edges, “After the tragic demise of Russell by the White Fang terrorists ….” Satisfied it was lit, he watched the flames burn the wood down to the very last millimetre before he dunked it in his water glass, “-His Vote falls to the CEO of the SDC.”

“Yes me..”

Leisurely, the business man sat back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee, his highly polished black dress shoe in stark contrast with the pristine white of his suit.

“No, You, my dear, are merely a figurehead.. I am the CEO, the vote falls to me.” He tapped the ash on the floor, “- Until a suitable candidate can be found.”

Drawing herself up to her full height, Willow took a step towards him,

“I will contest it. I will bring it up in front of the board.”

With a smug grin, he gestured with his glass, the amber liquid threatening to spill over the rim,

“By all means, go ahead, but I think you will find that the board will not vote in favour of a socialite who prefers to remain cloistered behind her palace walls, who once referred to her duties as, what was it… ah yes, a burden.”

A deep red came to Willow’s ivory cheeks,

“You know that was not what I meant.. That I chose to remain here to take care of the children....To take care of Father."

Taking a huge inhale, he seemed to hold it for a brief moment before thick tendrils of acrid smoke unfurled from his nose giving him the appearance of a dragon,

“ Yes.. It was honourable of you... A dutiful and doting daughter choosing to take care of her ailing Father. But I think you will find that the Board will put their trust in a man who has steered the company in the right direction for many years. In a man who has turned a profit every quarter even in these trying times.”

Winter observed as her mother’s hands balled into fists, taking on an accusatory tone,

“By cutting funding and putting employees lives in danger?”

“Well, we are within industry regulations.”

“Regulations you have dictated by lobbying the Minister for Industry.” Her mother began to move towards the door with purpose, “I shall not put up with this. First thing in the morning I am invoking my right to call a meeting of the board.”

Ignoring her, he finished off his drink,

“Don’t be ridiculous…. You shall continue on with your frivolous philanthropist duties on behalf of the SDC whilst I continue to take care of the business, guiding it in the right direction in these dark times,” His voice became viperous, “ -To ‘ensure’ the future of our children.”

Her mother stopped dead in her tracks. Winter flinched at the thinly veiled threat and Weiss’ head swivelled between her parents. Willow’s shoulders drooped as if with the weight of Atlas. Turning to look at her husband, her voice came out barely a whisper,

“Did you ever love me?"

Jacques took another pull of the cigar as he coolly regarded his wife. Again he cadishly tapped the ash on the floor,

“If you have to ask, then I am sure you already know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it! In front of the children –“ Her voice became shrill. “-Say it!”

“If you insist…”

A deep silence that seemed to swell and distort the space rolled out. Winter dug her finger nails into the back of her hand. It seemed to suck in all the oxygen as the teenager struggled to gasp for air. Please no, not today. Weiss’ face became pinched, her tiny eyebrows furrowed in concern. Winter began,

“Father.. Please.. Don’t.”

Taking no heed of his daughter’s pleas, he instead remained focused on his wife. He took time as if savouring the moment making a big display of leaving the cigar on the edge of armrest, the corner of his lip twitched up as he coldly announced, “- I only married you for the company.”

The candles on the cake flickered and died.

Willow’s eyes flickered to each of her children, Winter watched as her mother seemed to recoil, her face crumbled and she fled Weiss bottom lip trembled… Whitley let out a loud wail.

Jacques spat.

“Oh for the sake of the gods.. Shut up with that infernal racket!

Bolting from her chair, Winter scooped up her little brother and held out her hand in encouragement.

“Weiss .”

The little girl scrambled from her seat, eagerly grasping her big sisters hand.

Winter briefly paused in the doorway, watching as Jacques bit into a purple plum, the soft flesh breaking, spilling dark venous juices down his chin.

He looked up. Holding his gaze, she stood back with Whitley on her hip and Weiss holding her hand. Activating a glyph on each handle she concentrated all of her rage. Under the sheer pressure, the doors began to shake and rattle in their hinges.

“I hate you!”

Catching the brief flicker of surprise on his features, she let go. The force exerted was enough to slam the doors closed with a resounding boom and caused the solid timber to splinter in its frame.

Swiftly she made her way to her bedroom, grateful when Klein arrived hot on her heels. 

“Miss, can I be of service?”

She gave the butler a wane but thankful smile as she gently unpeeled Whitley’s tight grasp around her neck as he hung like a drop bear,unwilling to let go. 

“Please remain here with them and get them settled.” She softly rubbed the small boy’s back as he continued to sob in small hitches,”- They can stay here with me this evening.”  Winter lay a comforting hand on Weiss shoulder as the young girl began to look panicked, “It’s ok, I shall return shortly.” Her voice soft and assuring, “- I must check on Mama.”

“I’ll order hot cocoa and make sure to retrieve some of that cake.” The two small children slightly perked up, “- Would you both like that little master and mistress?” 

Winter watched as the butler began to attempt to settle the two children on the bed, a warm domestic scene in stark contrast with the events that had previously unfolded. 

Satisfied at their safety, she quietly slipped out of the door.

Taking the back stairs and servant’s passage ways so as to avoid any run in with her father she quickly made her way to the East Wing. Rounding the corner, she spied two members of the security team hovering at the main entrance to the hallway that would lead to her mother’s rooms. 

With her back straight and shoulders set, she drew herself up to her full height as she approached 

They moved as if to block her. 

“I wish to see my Mother. Step aside!”

“I’m afraid we cant do that.”

Winter’s eyes narrowed, as she haughtily snapped,

“Why not?”

“We are under strict orders not allow anyone down here. For your own safety.”

“I hardly think I am in any danger from my own mother.” The guards looked at each other. Winter continued, trying to keep the shake from her voice, “- My mother sent for me, and as you both know punctuality is a must in this household. What do you think is going to happen when I have to explain why I was late?”

Both guards took a moment before stepping aside. 

“Thankyou gentleman, I think you will find you have made the right choice. If you make your way to the servants kitchen there might just be some left over cake. I would hurry if I were you.”

  Gently she rapped her knuckles on the door. Waiting patiently for a reply. Finding none she cautiously cracked open the door, calling out,

"Mama?"

The room was in disarray, clothes strewn round the room, the contents of the dresser scattered all over the floor. The wardrobe looked like it had bore the brunt of an explosion, splintered and hanging in its frame. 

In the centre of the room, Willow lay slumped on the floor. As Winter quietly approached the woman struggled to sit up, her head lolling. Her eyes seemed unable to focus. Crouching down beside her, Winter took the wine bottle from her mother’s unresisting grasp. Her mother’s once beautiful features were marred by swollen cheeks and puffy red rimmed eyes. Her makeup was smeared and her bun was askew.

"Mama, are you ok?"

Winter slowly helped her mother get unsteadily to her feet, struggling under the extra weight as she leaned on her for support. Willow suddenly pulled her daughter into a hug. She smelt of perfume and alcohol that caused Winter’s nose to burn.

"Promise me you will get away from here!"

"Yes, Mama."

Letting go, Willow slurred  as Winter guided her over to the bed.,

"He will never willingly let you go.... You must make him....... Do what ever it takes to get away from here.... To get away from him!"

Biting back her tears, Winter dutifully replied, 

“I know, Mama.”

With nimble and gentle fingers, Winter unzipped the back of her mother’s gown, not caring as it pooled as it pooled on the floor. Giving her mother much needed support, she waited as older woman stepped out of it. Winter pulled back the covers on the queen sized bed and gently eased her mother onto the mattress, tucking the sheet up around her.

"Weiss and Whitley?"

"I am taking care of them, Mama."

"You're a good girl, Winter. I dont tell you.. Your father.. He.,.. " Willow sniffed, "I am sorry, Winter."

Winter tenderly stroked her mother’s hair out of her face and pressed her lips against her forehead as she tenderly murmured,

"Hush now, Mama."

"I'm sorry."

“I know.” 

“I love you, Winter.”

Tears began to prickle like an over flowing dam,

“I know Mama. I love you too.”

Once more stroking her mother’s hair, she turned on the small bedside lamp. Retrieving the empty bottle, she rushed out of the door.

Out in the hallway, she let loose the rising tide and like the levees that broke, tears began to pour. 

Hey folks, here is Chapter 4  of ‘A Fool’s Parade.’ 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853037/chapters/34800689

Just something tiny today for NaNoWriMo as I missed yesterday.. but I also wrote another tiny ficlet  “North For Winter.”  to make up. 

A lil bit lighter than yesterdays.. Is over on AO3 if you wanna read chap 1 and 2. 

Enjoy 

-x-x-x

Part 3 A

 Lights popped and flashed as camera’s clicked away, the crowd of press edging round the door. Their personal bodyguards creating a protective barrier around them, Winter kept a bright and breezy smile, her gleaming white teeth showing, despite her father’s heavy hand resting just behind her neck and shoulders, a gentle squeeze in warning that she had angered him.

He leaned down closer to her, so a photographer could catch the image of a proud father and his champion daughter, keeping his tone level he murmured out of the side of his mouth,

“Why aren’t you wearing the uniform I provided?”

Winter remained bright as she waved at the photographers.

“It does not fit!”

“Yes, it does. I had it tailored personally.”

“Well… Daddy… I have had a growth spurt.”

The body guards began to escort the pair through the labyrinth of tunnels; Jacques’ hand remained on her back,

“You are exactly the same height!”

“Oh… I didn’t grow up…Daddy...” Winter turned with a gleeful smile, “I grew across here!” She gestured to her breasts.

Her father’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, almost allowing his mask to slip in front of the journalists who dogged their every move,

“There is no need to be vulgar.”

A bespectacled gentleman and his camera man approached, holding out a huge spongy microphone,

“Miss Schnee! Miss Schnee!”

Wriggling from out of her father’s grasp, she gave the journalist a megawatt smile,

“Yes?”

“We are from RXSPN, can we get a quick quote?”

“Of course!”

The camera man hoisted up the camera, adjusting his lens to get her in focus and take advantage of the best light. He gave the presenter the all clear.  Winter waited expectantly as the journalist held out the huge mic.

“Here I have with me, Winter Schnee, Remnant’s Junior World Fencing Champion.  How are you after that tense match?”

“It’s a pleasure to be here Gregg. What can I say, the arena is great, the atmosphere is great, the crowd was amazing. .. Everyone who competed today did their absolute best.  The calibre of people competing today…. It was a tough win, I can tell you that Gregg!”

“It seemed like you and Khenet Chaise were evenly matched.”

The years of coaching from the SDC’s PR team were paying off as Winter began to hit her stride.

“We most definitely were Greg, everyone who competed today did their absolute best..  He really did bring his A game. There were a few moments there where I believed he genuinely had me!

Gregg took back the mic,

“But you brought it back in the last few bouts.”

“Yes, once I got my cadence I managed to clinch it. Khenet is a very talented fencer.”

“So what is next for you, Miss Schnee?”

Standing behind the camera man, Winter spotted her father with the security team. Screw him. Turning on the charm she had been taught to skilfully wield,

“I’m thinking about progressing to the sabre actually. I think it’s time I branched out. - ” Even from over here in the glare of the lights, Winter could make out her father’s posture round, and he slowly began to weave his way towards her, “-I  think  I’m ready to face a new challenge.”

“The sabre!” Gregg turned back to the camera, “You heard it first here folks at RXSPN, Winter Schnee is ready to rumble.”  He turned back to her, “So what advice would you give to any little girl wanting to follow in your footsteps. “

Winter felt the presence of her Father stepping beside her as the camera man looked out from behind the lens to give him a frown and a shooing motion to get out of the shot. Winter kept her eyes mirthful and her smile fixed,

“I would say,  if you are willing to put in the hard work, the effort, dedication to your duty then any one can achieve anything.”

Her father leaned towards the mic,

“It also takes natural talent and skill.”

Gregg looked momentarily flustered at the intrusion.

“Mr Schnee? “ Holding the mic under Jacques nose, “What’s it like being the parent of a champion? “

“Today, the eldest of my children,-” He pulled Winter into him in an uncharacteristic, one armed, fatherly hug, “-Has done me proud. Never for a second did my faith in her winning today, waver.”

It took all of Winter’s effort not to physically cringe and she thanked all those lessons she had been forced to take in preparation for her future role at the SDC. Another journalist pushed to the fore holding out a Dictaphone,

“Mr Schnee! What do you say to those who stand opposed to your treatment of the Faunus workers?”

Everybody in that small corridor, packed to the brim with waiting eyes and ears, seemed to pause for brief second. Camera’s flashed, recorders whirled. Without missing a beat Jacques brushed off the comment with a chuckle,

“This is a sporting event, hardly a political rally. That’s all we have time for, I’m afraid.. Its my other daughter’s birthday today. Isnt it Winter?” Beside him she nodded, “Weiss would be rather disappointed if her father and her big sister were to miss her special day.” He gave Winter’s shoulder an extra hard squeeze indicating that she was to follow and not cause a cause a fuss. “

“What about the trapped Faunus?”

He began encouraging Winter to walk forward, almost as if using her as a shield. Winter deliberately frowned at him as his voice became silken,

“Now , now I assure you, at the Schnee Dust Company are doing all we can to save the lives of the trapped workers.” The journalists tried to call out after them but were blocked by security. He waved like the smooth trained politician he was, “We shall keep the media abreast of the situation as it unfolds.”

Away from the camera, he immediately put a distance between himself and Winter, ignoring her in favour of walking ahead. They were stopped by officials on the door that would lead to the small gathering in the sky lounge for the presentation of the awards. His annoyance at being stopped and asked for identification, adding a further insult to injury when the official refused to let him in until Winter found the security pass in her bag.

He complained and whinged at the amount of time it was taking, oblivious that it had been his early demand of heightened security for the event that was the culprit. For a brief second she considered not admitting to the official he was on her list, it would serve him right to be left out here in the hallway. As she pushed her finger print against the scroll panel next to a picture of her taken for the Remnant Fencing Commission, she heard her father sniff,

“RXSPN? What is that? Some news network?”

Winter tried not to scoff at how much of an oblivious old goat he was. One of his security team sheepishly said,

“Its an extreme sports channel, Sir.”

“Never heard of it! Have a big following does it?”

The teenager rolled her eyes. It was only of the most popular channels on the CCT watched by millions. It was also televised on cable and covered just about every sort of sporting event on the globe. The Vytal Festival and Huntsmen bouts were known the world over. It might even have the exclusive rights this year. The official allowed then to carry on through to the sky lounge.

The body guard continued,

“It is relatively popular, Sir. Amongst the younger crowd at least.”

Jacques scoffed,

“Well, I suppose we are fine then.”