#transrwbies

He fought to keep the burning fire in his gut from lighting up; Yang wouldn’t give them what they wanted. They couldn’t make his powers their weapons.

Standing again, he clutched his stomach, the latest bruise fading into the same dull ache as all the others. He cast his eyes up, to the imposing stone fortress walls and the dark skies beyond them. It was too cloudy for stars, and the winter storm howled around the courtyard, obscuring his grunts and the sounds of the others training.

A blow to his head sent him spinning, and in seconds he was flat on the ground again. Yang’s cheek stung against the cold, and he blinked hazily, watching from the sideways spot on the ground as other children lashed out at their trainers with attacks of ice and fire and elements of their own, holding their ground against men and women three times the size of them.

He stood again, wiping blood from his lip. Yang’s eyes blazed a dazzling shade of red, fire pouring from his fists as he screamed and slammed punch after punch into solid armor, forcing the battlemaster further and further back.

He stopped aiming strikes at Yang, taking each blow wordlessly.

When Yang finally tired out, the fire in his stomach wasted to ash.

The failure sat heavily on his shoulders as the man lifted off his helmet and stared down at him, soot clinging to greasy black hair. “That’s more like it, soldier.”

Yang breathed heavily, not meeting his eye. At his side, his fingers crumpled into tiny fists, sparks erupting in the palms of his hands.

Yang had to bite his tongue to resist snapping at him, blood pooling in his mouth and behind his teeth, thick with iron.

He could take any beating thrown at him. But they wouldn’t break him.

A horn blew over the roar of the winds, the low sound snapping every child to attention. The battlemasters sheathed their wooden weapons, and every young gladiator fell into line for their inspections.

Yang stumbled towards his place, eyes frantically searching for his younger sister and assessing her for injuries before falling into line near the front. To his side, Blake Belladonna bristled. He’d already gotten into one fight with them about Yang’s reckless behavior reflecting poorly on them. No one wanted anything to do with the gladiator who picked fights with his superiors, and fought with no weapons.

Yang raised his chin high, hands clasped behind his back and eyes straight ahead in perfect stance for inspection.

“For the viewing pleasure of His Majesty the King, and his daughter, Weiss Schnee, the Atlesian Heir. Present and at attention, the Godsblood.”

It would be the first time royalty inspected them, and Yang steadied his breathing, drawing on the warmth of the flames that surged in his blood to soothe any chills. As the King proceeded down the line, Yang couldn’t help let his eyes follow him. A blue cloak swirled behind the King, and a golden crown glittered in his white hair, encrusted with jewels brighter than stars. He was flanked by two mages, who played with the snow, keeping it from ever touching him.

Yang wasn’t fooled, though. They were Godsblood too, and dangerous weapons glinted at their belts, masked by black leather sheaths. Dark cloaks with silver clasps were clipped to their armor, obscuring the trained muscle and solid figures that had bled in the same arena Yang found himself toiling in.

A moment later, the princess followed.

Yang had never seen a princess before. He’d heard stories of them from his parents, and Taiyang, his father, often teased that Yang’s mother was a princess.

Yang’s eyes quickly fell to the ground. There was heat in his cheeks that had no place there.

But boy, were princesses beautiful.

Yang wondered if he would ever get to protect her, or if his job would fall elsewhere, out in the temples, or on the battlefields in distant lands.

He hoped he wouldn’t be sent away.

The inspection passed in a haze after that. He stumbled back to his bunk before the evening chores with thoughts of blue eyes and white hair in his head, and pretended for a moment that he was a knight from one of his old stories at home, protecting the princess from evil.

The delusion sent him into a warm enough sleep, but minutes later, his sister’s hand shook him awake for chores.

It would be a long night. He helped some of the older gladiators shovel the bloody snow from the grounds until his fingers rubbed raw against the wooden spade, but all the while, his eyes strayed upwards towards a window where a candle was lit. He wondered if that was the princess’s room, and if she was looking down at him working.

Of course, there was no higher delusion than royalty falling for gladiators. Playwrights had been executed over taking such theatrical liberties.

This particular afternoon, as she climbed up the path from the beach to return to her car as the sun was setting, she hesitated on the sidewalk. She recognized an old, beat up truck in the parking lot, and scanning the park, she found its owner. A figure with long blonde hair tied back out of his eyes, brightly colored tattoos of roses and dragons splashed across his biceps and creeping down his wrists and back under a tight, black tanktop stood using the weight machine deadbolted to the playground floor. The machine directly across was a stair-stepper of sorts, moved by shifting weight from one side of the body to the other, and a little girl in a bright pink shirt and pigtails went running over and climbed onto the steps, giggling. The pair looked nothing alike, but Weiss was certain it had to be Yang and his youngest daughter by the smiles they shared. Weiss had taught his eldest the previous year, and he’d mentioned a younger daughter may be coming Weiss’s way one day.

Yang glanced up from working the weight machine, smiled her direction and waved her over before scooping up his little girl.

“Miss Schnee, out of the classroom for once,” he said, shifting his daughter to his hip so she could get a better view of her large white dog. The young girl had a cute smile, and buried her face against Yang’s shoulder, with just enough of a view to peek at the dog, who sat patiently watching her. “What brings you out here?”

She reached down and patted her dog. “We both needed some fresh air. I try and walk here as often as I can, actually.”

“Good for you, teach,” and he genuinely seemed to mean it with that big smile. “I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other before now.”

“Well, I don’t get the spare time for long walks often. I probably should’ve left already, but the sunset was so nice tonight, I didn’t want to leave.” As she said that, the lights in the park sparked on with a ‘pop’, though there were still streaks of orange and purple in the sky.

“Fair, fair. It’s a beautiful night. Me and Stella here normally come earlier anyway, but her brother earned himself a playdate, so we’ve sorta been taking our time here on our own little playdate.”

The little girl giggled as Yang kissed her cheek, grasping out for some of Yang’s hair to cling to.

“How is Roan doing? Seventh grade treating him alright?”

Yang gently rubbed Stella’s back, thoughtful for a moment. “It’s been better. Last year was tough on him, and getting back into a school mindset has been kinda hard with that on top of summer break. But he seems to be doing a lot better now, for sure. You were very patient with him while he was going through things.”

Weiss dipped her head briefly. “I just wanted to help. He’s a bright young boy.” She caught herself before mentioning the word ‘divorce’ aloud; she had no idea if Stella were old enough to have understood what had happened between her parents, and the girl was in a good mood after exercising with Yang and getting to see a dog big enough for her to ride.

“Well, whatever they’re paying you, they should triple it. You’re our favorite teacher now. Hopefully Little Miss Stella will be less of a troublemaker than her brother, though, right, kiddo?”

Stella giggled, “No promises, dad.”

Yang laughed, rolling his eyes sheepishly. “Well, that’s not very encouraging for Miss Schnee to hear, now is it, champ?”

“Nope!”

Weiss stifled a laugh behind her hand, taking a moment to compose herself while Yang ruffled his girl’s hair.

“Apologies, ma’am.”

“Nothing to apologize for, really. She’s a girl who speaks her mind. Must have a good role model.”

Yang smiled sheepishly. “I do what I can. Nights like these are nice, though. Her and her brother are a handful. I’m lucky my dad is close.” He trailed off briefly, looking distant as he got quieter.

Weiss swallowed, knowing she really ought to cut the conversation off before it dragged out unprofessionally, before Yang finally noticed that for the last few minutes, she’d been staring at his tattoos—and more importantly, the muscle under his tattoos.

“Your father must love getting to see his grandkids, though.”

“He does, he does. And he loves knowing I actually get some sleep when he takes ‘em.”

“Can we see Grandpa?” Stella piped up, still clinging to a strand of gold hair, a yawn punctuating the end of the sentence.

“Maybe we’ll walk there tomorrow, kiddo. Depends on the weather.”

That seemed to be enough for the little girl, who happily lay her head back on Yang’s shoulder and shut her eyes.

“Well, I should get the little tyke home for dinner and bed, but it was good seeing you again, Miss Schnee. Remind me, I owe you a beer the next time you’re free from grading.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s really not—“

“Nope, won’t take no for an answer. You were very patient with me and my son, it’s really the least I can do, considering I shoulda done this over the summer anyway. One shitty thank-you card isn’t nearly enough. Besides, I could use an excuse to go out again. Haven’t had the chance in awhile. The summer was pretty packed, that’s on me, really, but it would be nice to go out somewhere with a few more grownups.”

Well, when he put it that way…

“…alright, why not?” Just two friends getting drinks together.

It wasn’t like it was bad. Teachers and parents were often friends.

And anyway, she hadn’t taught Yang’s son in months. She had no professional connection to Yang anymore. This was fine.

The small crush on Yang she’d avoided confronting for almost a year? That was probably not so good.

“Perfect. I think I’ve still got your number lying around somewhere, so I’ll text you details when I get my life sorted out. Not flaking, just got a lot of schedules to juggle, but this will totally happen. Maybe even before Stella’s in your class.”

Weiss chuckled and waved, and when she got into her car to drive home, she first had to take a very, very deep breath, and come to terms with the fact that she had a major, gigantic crush on a recently-divorced parent of two.

And he had just asked her out for casual drinks.