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Winter had been to Mistral before, but it never got any better. Especially not from her current point of view.
The last time she’d visited, it had been on officially military business. So, of course, she’d seen the high side of life in Mistral, the kind the wasn’t all that different to life in Atlas- rich snobs silly parties, and callous amounts of not-so-subtle discrimination.
And now, in the underground where she was with Cinder, things were far worse. Black market deals on every corner, people skulking around looking to exact revenge on those who’d broken deals, and the residents here didn’t even try to hide their discrimination. A ‘no faunus’ sign hung on just about every second store in the area, and those that were open to them were usually filled with faunus and nobody else.
Broken windows everywhere, boarded-up store doors, smoke rising from places where Winter was sure there were no fireplaces. It was as bad as Mantle down here.
For as bad as she was finding it though, she knew Cinder was having a far worse time. It would have been quite a while since the other woman had last been here, but she clearly still had strong- and very negative- memories of this place. Winter did her best to stay close to her side.
Not too close, She remaindered herself, you’re not ready. Neither of you are.
It hadn’t stopped them from spending the occasional passionate night together, of course, but that was to be expected when they were the only company the other had had for the past few months. Tracking down information on Salem and her plan had proven to be a difficult task as it was, but doing so without being discovered by someone who knew their identities was even harder.
They’d been getting by thanks to the lien Winter had managed to get a hold of before leaving Atlas, letting Cinder be the one to buy supplies and hotel rooms to avoid recognition. Most people would recognize a Schnee in an instant, but very few at all would recognize a grown-up orphan with a name nobody knew.
“We should get out of here,” Cinder muttered roughly, glaring around at the dark alleyway as she and Winter walked through it. “We haven’t seen Tyrian in days; he’s probably laying low.”
The two of them had made their way to Mistral for one big reason; to follow one of Salem’s crew, Tyrian Callows, in an attempt to figure out what he was up to. So far, they’d discovered that he’d been sent out to look for potential new recruits, including notorious assassin Marcus Black. Unfortunately, they’d lost track of him, and had no way of tracking where he could have gone, seeing as the location of the assassin’s whereabouts were unknown to them. They’d hit a dead end.
Winter sighed. “Maybe you’re right. We should-” She broke off as a commotion burst out from outside of the alley, and a teenaged girl ran past in a blur. When another group of teenagers followed, Winter and Cinder both hurried to the end of the alleyway.
Winter stared at out the scene. The group of teenagers had cornered the girl in a dead-end blocked by a wooden fence, their backs to her and Cinder. The girl might have seen them from where she was crouching, but she was too focused on the group in front of her, clutching what looked like a necklace and shaking with fear. The group was jeering at her, spitting insults and threatening her with balled fists.
The girl couldn’t have been older than fifteen, not particularly short, but too skinny and poorly dressed to have been from a well-off family, unlike the other teens, who were all much bulkier and healthier.
Cinder’s eyes narrowed. “She needs help.”
Winter was tempted to agree, but she couldn’t risk it. She shook her head. “We’ll give ourselves away,” She whispered back, “Besides, you should know better than to use your combat abilities on a bunch of kids.”
Cinder looked unsatisfied, staring at the scene in concern and anger. “They deserve it,” She growled. “They’re going to hurt her.”
“Have we upgraded to stealing jewelry now?” One boy sneered, “Filthy rat.”
Another smirked, leaning down over the girl. “Do you think that’s gonna make you a real girl?”
At that, the girl flinched, and Cinder looked like she was about to go and murder the teenagers where they stood. Winter knew exactly why, and she had to fight the sympathy that stabbed in her gut. They couldn’t allow themselves to be discovered.
As Cinder lurched forward, Winter grabbed her arm. “Cinder, don’t.”
Cinder turned on her, amber eyes blazing. “You heard what they said,” She spat. “I’m not going to let them treat her like people did with me.”
Cinder yanked her arm out of Winter’s grip, but before she could do anything, the girl leaned back and fell through the wooden fence, taking off the moment she realized she had an exit. The others followed, and Winter realized, with a sinking feeling, that they were stronger and faster than the girl.
“Come on,” She grabbed Cinder’s arm again and started running back through the alley.
“What are you doing? Cinder hissed.
Winter didn’t break pace, turning into the street. “What you wanted.”
She ran a bit further, then turned again, spotting the teenagers through another alleyway. Turning slightly, she pulled out her weapon and summoned a gravity glyph, tightening her grip on Cinder as she boosted the two of them forward. They were ahead of the girl and her pursuers now, and Winter darted down another alleyway to intercept them, keeping her sword drawn.
As the teenagers approached, the girl tripped and fell just in front of where Cinder and Winter stood around the corner. Before their pursuers could catch up, Winter acted fast. Just barely looking out around the corner, she summoned a second gravity glyph, this time underneath the group, sending them hurtling into the sky before letting the crash down again. Now suddenly terrified, they picked themselves up and scrambled over each other to run in the opposite direction.
“Cowards,” Winter muttered.
Beside her, Cinder darted forward to help the girl, who was picking herself up from the concrete, wiping dirt off her now-grazed knees.
“Are you okay?” Cinder asked, her tone much gentler than it had been earlier.
“I-I think so,” The girl stood up shakily, her crimson gaze flicking from Cinder to Winter. “Um…thank you.”
Cinder placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We heard what they said to you,” She told her, “Don’t listen to a word of it.” Despite her gentle gaze, something fierce burned in her eyes; the look of someone who’d been in the same position before.
The girl rubbed her arm and looked away. “Yeah, I…I’m used to it,” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “But I know who I am.”
“And who are you?” Winter asked, walking over. “If you don’t mind me asking?” At the sharp look Cinder gave her, Winter scolded herself inwardly. This wasn’t a military interrogation.
The girl didn’t react to her blunt tone though, standing a little taller now. “I’m Emerald Sustrai,” She replied. “And…who are you?”
Winter exchanged a glance with Cinder, before looking back down at the girl. “We can’t tell you that,” She replied apologetically. “But we’re friends. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Emerald relaxed slightly. She still clutched the necklace in her hand, seemingly the reason the other teens had chased her.
Winter blinked pointedly at it. “Is it true that you stole that?”
Instantly, Emerald tensed up again, a sudden fire in her eyes as she jerked the necklace away and brought it close to her. “It doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “It’s mine now!”
Winter narrowed her eyes and stepped forward, “Look, you really should return-”
“No!” Emerald’s eyes were wide now, shot through with a trace of fear as she stepped away from Winter. “If I go back, they’ll arrest me! I’m not letting them take me!”
“Winter,” Cinder warned, a note of sharpness in her tone.
Winter sighed and tried to relax, pushing down her military-learned instincts. “Don’t panic,” She told Emerald, “I’m sure things will be fine once the police talk it out with your parents.”
Emerald flinched and didn’t respond, looking away quickly. Winter saw realization flow onto Cinder’s face, and the other woman walked up to place a hand on the teenaged girl’s shoulder. “How long have you been without them?” She asked softly.
Oh, Winter realized. No wonder the girl was so skinny and nervous. She felt a stab of guilt, cursing herself for not considering the fact sooner.
Emerald’s gaze darkened. “Since…since I was six,” She replied quietly, “It was a Grimm attack.”
Cinder nodded gently. “Mine too. I’m sorry.”
From what Winter had been told, Cinder had hardly any memory of her birth parents, but she knew that their early deaths still weighed heavily on her. It was why her life was this way, after all.
Cinder turned her gaze to Winter. “Please, don’t make her take it back,” She begged. “They’ll put her in an orphanage.”
Winter sighed. Against everything she’d been taught as a child, she understood. Cinder, of all people, would know how bad Mistral’s idea of an orphanage was. She couldn’t subject this girl to that. “Okay,” She replied. “You can keep it.”
Emerald stared at her. “Really?”
Winter nodded, trying to come off as friendly. It didn’t look like an expensive necklace anyway; a back string with what looked like a fake ruby hanging from it. It was more than likely something she’d stolen from a dollar store.
She felt a wave of pity wash over her, if this girl had so little that a cheap necklace would have enough value for her to risk stealing, when getting caught came with such a price. The city wasn’t fair, not at all.
Cinder looked thoughtful for a moment, before giving Emerald a gentle smile. “Hey, why don’t you come with us for the night?” She offered, “We’ve got food and shelter.”
Winter bit back a habitual protest. There was no reason this girl couldn’t come with them for a night or two. It would be better than leaving her on the streets, at least. Afterward, though, would be another story. She hoped Cinder knew what she was doing, and she had her suspicions.
Hope flared in Emerald’s eyes, probably the first bit of hope she’d felt in a long time, Winter guessed. “Are you sure?”
Winter found herself nodding. “We can get you patched up, too.”
Emerald glanced down at her knees, where blood from her scrapes had dripped all the way down to her raggy boots, blinking as if she hadn’t even noticed. Looking back up at Cinder and Winter, her eyes glowed. “I…thank you. Thank you so much!”
Cinder ruffled the girl’s hair, the gesture surprising Winter. She’d never seen this side of her before.
“Let’s go and get you a roof over your head.”
Upon returning to the hotel Cinder and Winter had been staying at, they’d given the excuse of Emerald being Cinder’s niece, who’d been left with her because of an ‘emergency’. Once in the room, Emerald had proceeded to stuff her face with every bit of food she could find, and had drunk water as if she’d gone without it for days- and maybe, Winter wondered, she had.
Now, she was tucked into one of the hotel’s two beds, fast asleep and snoring quietly. In the same bed as Winter now, Cinder watched her in a way that seemed almost protective to Winter. It reminded her of how she’d acted towards Weiss and Whitley, and brief pain stabbed into her gut. How long before she’d see them again? Would she ever?
Noticing her dull silence, Cinder turned to her. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Just thinking about my siblings,” Winter replied softly, “I hope they’re okay.”
Sympathy showed in Cinder’s eyes. She’d never been able to meet Weiss and Whitley, but Winter had told her a lot about them. “I hope so, too,” She replied gently.
Cinder’s kindness sparked guilt into Winter for how she’d acted earlier that day. After a moment of silence, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Cinder blinked at her. “For what?” A slight smirk crossed her face. “You’re going to have to be more specific when you say that.”
Winter couldn’t find herself laughing at the joke. It was true, after all. But best to focus on the issue at hand. “For earlier today,” She replied. “I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings like that.”
“Oh,” Cinder looked away. “It’s fine.” She shrugged, “You were right anyway; we couldn’t have risked it.”
“I know,” Winter replied softly, “But I still shouldn’t have…I mean…I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care how you felt.” She brought her knees to her chest. “It wasn’t fair of me.”
Cinder shook her head. “You didn’t, don’t worry,” her eyes darkened. “I was mad at them, not you.”
Winter searched for the rights words. She hadn’t discussed this with Cinder often; only when Cinder had told her, and once after that when Cinder had been subject to transphobia while on a date with her during their school days. “I can’t pretend to understand what it feels like,” She said softly, “But I know it must feel terrible. I’m sorry you didn’t get to do much about it.”
Cinder blinked in surprise and tipped her head. “I did, though,” She turned to look at Emerald again. “We got her out of there. We’ve given her somewhere to stay. That’s the best we can do.”
She was quiet for another moment, and Winter could already predict what she was going to say.
“Winter…I want her to stay with us.”
Winter blinked slowly, her suspicions confirmed. Cinder was already acting like an older sister to the teenaged girl; this came as no surprise. “I figured as much.” She thought for a moment. “It’s not going to be easy.”
Cinder stared at her in surprise. “You’re not going to argue?”
Winter smirked. “Would there be any point?”
A grin crossed Cinder’s face. “No, probably not.” She leaned forward and wrapped Winter in a hug. “Thank you, Winter. I mean it.”
Winter sighed and allowed herself to place a hand on Cinder’s back. Oh, how she wanted to hold her there forever. “It’s going to take a lot to keep her safe,” She warned. “We’ll have to train her.”
Cinder pulled away, looking again at Emerald. “She’s a tough one,” She replied with certainty. “She’s survived this long. Learning to fight could be good for her.”
Winter nodded. “Okay. We’ll propose it to her in the morning and see what she says.” She highly doubted the response would be negative. Emerald had looked at Cinder with such awe that Winter got the feeling she’d do anything for her now, if just for the fact Cinder had shown her kindness.
A prick of uncertainty wormed into her and the thought of involving a teenager in this, but she saw little other choice. They couldn’t be so cruel as to turn her out into the streets again, and by the time they got somewhere where she could be reliably turned over to someone else, she and Cinder would be far too close for Winter to want to separate them.
No, this wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was going to make everything a lot harder. But this had happened for a reason, Winter figured. And so long as Cinder was happy, maybe it would be worth it.