Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A broken promise.

That was what had set the end of Weiss’ life in motion. 

“I know you’re worried, Weiss, but trust us. Team RWBY won’t leave your side for a second! I promise.”

And the worst part was that Weiss had believed her. She’d taken Ruby’s words as immutable truth instantly. Had trusted her implicitly. 

And why wouldn’t she? Even when Weiss was at her worst, Ruby had never once let her down. Never stopped reaching out. Never stopped wanting to be her friend, even when she definitely didn’t deserve it. (Weiss was loath to admit it, but she’d absolutely earned the title Yang had once dubbed her with of “Ice Queen.”)

The irony, of course, was that the Weiss that had first stepped foot onto Beacon’s campus what felt like a lifetime ago (How had it only been a couple of years?!), would have known better. That Weiss, with the crushing weight of her father’s expectations breaking her back and the cynical snakes of Atlesian high society turning her heart into a jaded block of stone, would never have taken Ruby’s words at face value. No, she would’ve seen her declaration as idealistic drivel at best or a thinly veiled attempt at manipulation at worst.

That Weiss, would not be standing here… hurt, blindsided and once again… alone. 

Oh yes, the irony caused a bitter, painful twist in her chest.

Won’t leave my side for a single second? More like won’t stay by my side for a single second.

Guilt choked Weiss immediately at the unkind thought, and she tried her best to shove such thinking into the darkest depths of her mind, never to emerge again. After all, Penny’s return from the dead was nothing short of a miracle. Ruby’s grief had been subtle, yet obvious to one who knew the girl well. Ever since they’d been reunited at Haven, her smiles had been a just a touch slower, with less reaching her eyes. Weiss had caught her more than once staring off into space, her glorious silver eyes dulled into gray. Now, Weiss would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the most skilled at comforting people, but she’d publicly call her father, “The kindest man in Atlas,” before she’d abandon someone so dear to her heart to her pain. 

Yet any attempts to have any sort of conversation with even the barest semblance of depth was deflected. And Ruby did so with such ease and deftness that if Weiss didn’t know better she would’ve thought she’d been trained since childhood to do so like Weiss had. (Ms. Gray had always been the strangest of her childhood private tutors.) So Weiss’ efforts had turned to the practical and increasingly desperate. From scouring the markets of Mistral until she found Ruby off season strawberries, to something as completely absurd and borderline dangerous as playing tag on the Argus Limited. (A game which would have been over in seconds had Weiss not called out “No Semblances!” before taking off at a dead sprint down the train car.) Anything… anything at all to get the shine back in her dolt’s eyes. 

Alas, her victories were short lived. Ruby would smile at her gestures (and for once with something resembling sincerity), yet soon enough that burst of joy faded and her smiles grew empty again. Weiss had begun to think that was the best outcome that could be hoped for. After all, the whole team had so much weighing down on them, especially after the truth of Salem’s immortality was revealed. In the face of such grim realities, maybe small victories were enough. 

Yes, small victories were enough. They’d have to be. That’s what Weiss had thought. But then Penny had rocketed back into their lives (literally) and knocked Ruby right off her feet (again literally). Suddenly Ruby’s smiles lit up her whole face and her eyes had a sparkle that would put diamonds to shame. And Weiss felt like the worst person in the world for feeling anything other than completely happy at this fact. 

Now don’t get her wrong, of course Weiss was happy Penny was alive. No one deserved the horrific fate the girl had faced in Amity Arena. Besides, she may have never been as close to the overly enthusiastic and socially awkward girl as Ruby, but Weiss definitely still considered her a friend. And upon even the most cursory reflection it was obvious how Ruby and Penny formed such a close bond so quickly. Their similarities were as obvious as they were numerous. 

Way more than Ruby and herself. 

Weiss’ throat tightened again, and the pain spread a bit to her chest, this time. 

Shaking her head, Weiss once again tried to suppress the thoughts. Berating herself silently for her foolishness, she straightened her nonexistent slouch into a posture of utter perfection and forced her mind back to the present. A present in which Blake and Yang were barely even trying to hide their rush to go out on one of their clearly-not-a-dates. Team RWBY’s latest training session had barely finished and the Bumblebee duo was already halfway out the door, with barely a cursory wave in farewell. A strange pounding started deep in Weiss’ head, and she forced a frown off her face. 

Ruby wasn’t far behind them. She, at least, gave Weiss some words of farewell, but she barely gave Weiss a chance to reply before Penny was rushing up to interlock her elbow with Ruby’s. Her partner seemingly quickly forgotten again, the two girls fell into rapid conversation as they too passed through the door, still arm in arm. As loud and enthusiastic as their converse was, it was just unintelligible noise to Weiss’ ears as they vanished behind the automatic door sliding shut behind them. 

Where had Penny even come from? Did she know Ruby’s schedule to the last detail like Weiss did? 

Of course she did. Penny had a literal computer for a brain and thus a perfect memory. Hmph. Some people had to actually study consistently (and NOT regularly into the wee hours of the morning, no matter what utterly baseless accusations Blake made) to gain and retain their knowledge. Weiss scowled, disgusted by her own pettiness. Penny was her friend. She was!

Besides, she had good reason for her diligence. Ruby was still so disorganized about scheduling that Team RWBY’s undertakings here in Atlas would be a hopeless tangle without Weiss there to help. She double checked the color coded schedule she kept for all of Team RWBY on her scroll, but Weiss was already sure in her own mind. In a little less than an hour, Ruby was indeed off on another guard mission for the convoys carrying supplies for Amity Tower. Partnered with, very clearly, Penny. That little detail, however, had not been noted on the schedule. They had been on such outings with increasing frequency as of late. While Weiss and Ruby had only gone on a handful. In her experience, such “guard missions” largely consisted of sitting in a truck watching the ever scenic tundra of Solitas pass by. Basically alone together, for hours on end. 

Weiss shook her head violently in yet another valiant attempt to dispel her train of thought. Unfortunately for her, something far more effective did the job for her. In the space of a single breath, her throat became an ever constricting vise. Pain radiated through her chest in ever expanding branches. Her pulse pounded against her temples. Her breath, forced out through gritted teeth. Her vision whited out.

Her knees hit the floor violently. Only a fist pressed to the cold tiles kept her from falling completely. Her other hand clawed at her chest with equal parts desperation and uselessness. Something lodged in her throat, further obstructing her breath. In an act of primal instinct, Weiss swallowed convulsively. Pure agony. A line of fire ran right past her throat and raced along both her trachea and her esophagus. Yet the obstruction seemingly cleared. Her breath came in labored pants, but it coming at all was still a relief.

With horrific sluggishness, the fit passed. Eventually, her breathing became more even, and the agony in her chest faded to a dull ache. Her head still pounded, but the sensation diminished from debilitating to merely painful. Vision returned last. Even after Weiss opened her eyes, the neon edged hard light blocks that every training room in Atlas Academy consisted of remained an indistinct blur of light and shadow. Weiss squeezed her eyes shut and focused on forcing air into and out of her lungs. The fact that it required force at all was beyond disturbing. 

As soon as the simple act of breathing required less conscious effort on her part, Weiss tried opening her eyes again. Dark gray edged with neon blue bricks met her, thankfully clear, sight. She clambered incrementally to her feet. She swayed a bit, but she forced her arms to relax at her sides rather than clutch at anything incriminating. Despite knowing she was alone in the room, Weiss glanced around hastily. Indeed, devoid of life. Good. None of her fellow huntsman or huntresses had seen her in such a compromising position. 

What?! What even was that?! 

Weiss tried to assess what just happened logically and could come to no sufficient explanation. Maybe she just overdid it in training? But that made no sense. The session, while rigorous, was not overly more so than any other Team RWBY had engaged with since coming to Atlas. Maybe it was stress? Her home kingdom… the entire world, was at war. A war few knew the truth of. And one that Weiss, along with everyone she truly cared about, would be fighting in the front lines of. One could argue quite effectively that they all already were. 

Perhaps some combination of factors was to blame. Weiss did not think of her family. Very deliberately not. She thought nothing of her father’s demanding shouts, or her brother’s contemptuous sneer. She definitely didn’t think of how risky being back in her home kingdom at all was. About how close her father could be to snatching her within his grasp again. Nor of how the ever ubiquitous and much vaunted technology of Atlas served only to remind her of the immense power of the SDC. Even the very room she was standing in would be impossible without SDC patented Hard-Light Dust. (Efficient production of Hard-Light Dust was actually one of the company’s most recent and profitable innovations.) But she certainly wasn’t thinking about it. Any of it. Definitely not. 

Weiss pulled her scroll out of her pocket and checked her aura. An angry orange bar, just a few percentage points from red, met her gaze. She swallowed reflexively. It still hurt. Maybe it was a simple cold? Had she been sleeping well? Now that Weiss thought about it, she actually hadn’t been sleeping all that well these days. Queer and unknowable feelings plagued her chest whenever she looked up at Ruby’s bunk right above her, robbing her of proper rest.

Yes, that was it. A simple combination of mundane factors were to blame for this bizarre incident. Stress. Lack of sleep. Excessive training. Possible minor illness. And so long as it was a one off occurrence, there was nothing for Weiss to be concerned about. Now, the sensible thing would be to rest and let her aura recover. It galled her though, to cut her planned work for the day off short. Atlas Academy had extensive files on all Grimm common to Solitas. Weiss was systematically studying them all. Right now she was on Centinels and their alpha forms, Cenitaurs. A brilliant idea bloomed in her mind. She could continue her studies while in bed. Surely, her aura would still recover under those circumstances. And whatever fit she’d just succumbed to would never be repeated. Surely. 

A Perfect Plan. Weiss took an unsteady step forward. Her limbs trembled no matter how much she demanded they be still. No matter. The walk back to Team RWBY’s dorms was rather far, but Weiss was determined. She paused before the door, forcing deep breaths into her aching lungs and willing her shaking to cease. Only once she’d mastered her rebellious body did Weiss pass through. 

The hallway outside the training chamber they’d used was nothing short of cavernous. The walls were so dark a gray as to be almost black. The only color (as well as light) coming from the ever present glowing blue neon trim that pervaded the entire training complex. Weiss glanced both ways, but her team (along with Penny) was long gone, leaving the space devoid of life as far as her eyes could see. Empty. Utterly so.

Weiss’ steps were agonizingly slow. Her head began to pound in rhythm with her footfalls. Yet, her gait was steady. Her back straight. Head held high. Not a single tremor marred her limbs. Her face revealed nothing. Every line, every facet of her body was perfectly composed. 

Even as the hallway seemed to stretch interminably before her, Weiss refused to stop. At some of the lowest points in her life, she’d sung her truth before a crowd of Atlesian elites, all of whom would’ve liked nothing more than to see her downfall. The pain in her chest began to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She’d defeated the Arma Gigas when everyone (save her sister)  had expected her to fail. Every time air dared to move through her lungs was swiftly punished with a sharp pang. Her hand subconsciously moved to stroke the scar beneath her left eye. She was Weiss Schnee, and she refused to be bested by something as dreadfully simple as a walk across campus! Absolutely refused!

The neon florescent lights began to burn her eyes. One long eyeblink, one step and the dark hallway was no longer before her eyes. Her mother stood before her walking down the hallway of Schnee Manor towards the gardens, wine bottle in hand. Her other hand was empty, forgoing even a wine glass. Given the sway of her stride and the glassiness readily apparent in her eyes even in the morning light, Willow had to be at least three bottles in by now. The only reason Weiss realized this was a hallucination, a horrid living memory, was the fact that Willow was merely drinking wine. By the time Weiss had left for Beacon, she’d long graduated to grappa. By the time Weiss had returned after the Fall, only the finest brandy would do. 

Another step, another blink, and the dark hallway returned. A third blink, a third step, and Schnee manor swam before her eyes yet again. This time, Weiss recognized the scene before her as memory immediately. One that did not bear reliving. She shied away from it with the entirety of her being, but Winter refused to disappear from her vision. A much younger Winter, barely fifteen. They’d just shared their first, and final, hug within these halls. A farewell embrace. No matter how much a ten-year-old Weiss had cried and pleaded Winter had never turned back. Hadn’t even glanced her way to acknowledge her. Or the tears freely flowing down her little sister’s face (for the first time since her grandfather had died). No, she’d marched, straight backed and proud, straight to Atlas Academy and out of her life. Now, Weiss once again watched Winter’s back retreat farther and father down that hallway until it vanished from sight.

“I’m not always going to be around to save you, Weiss.” 

Truer words had never been spoken. Weiss’ attempt to find her sister in Mistral after she’d escaped the manor had proved fruitless. That path had only led to her near death. Weiss pressed a hand she didn’t even notice was trembling to her side, feeling the scar Cinder’s flaming spear had left in her flesh clearly even through several layers of intervening cloth. Her own weakness, permanently branded into her skin.

A final step, a final blink, and the visions faded, seemingly for good. But a pain seared Weiss’s chest. One that had nothing to do with whatever mysterious physical ailments were plaguing her at the moment. No for once, Weiss knew exactly what she was feeling. These ones she knew all too well and deep inside herself, could never truly deny. 

Abandonment. Isolation. Loneliness. 

Mirror, mirror tell me…

Weiss had actually first sung that song to her bedroom mirror, when she was no older than Winter was when she left home (left her). A humorless chuckle wanted to escape her throat, but the second her muscles began to move to form the sound, a coughing fit overcame her. As sudden as it was violent. Utterly uncontrollable. Weiss lurched into the wall for support. Her hand covered her mouth and wet, awful coughs wracked her body and escaped between her fingers. 

By the time the attack ceased, Weiss could barely stand. Leaning heavily against the wall was the only way she managed it at all. She removed her hand from her mouth and her head bobbed slightly in astonishment.

There, stuck to the palm of her glove, was a red rose petal. 

Chapter Text

Weiss’s first thought, of course, was of Ruby.

Had a petal from Ruby’s Semblance been lodged in her throat? But no, that was simply impossible. The petals left behind from Ruby’s Petal Burst weren’t actual roses. The main mass of petals was of course her body (plus anyone else she took with her). The scattered petals left in the wake of her travel were purely made of Ruby’s aura and dissipated into nothing within mere moments of her stopping using her Semblance. (And a good thing too, or their dorm room at Beacon would have basically been covered in a permanent layer of potpourri. Oddly enough, they still smelled like roses, though.) 

Weiss very distinctly did not think about how it had felt, when Ruby had carried Weiss in her Semblance, that time they had fought those Manticores atop the Argus Limited.  

“Thank me later!”

Those had been Ruby’s words, echoing Weiss’ from just moments before. Then that fool of a dolt had given her a cheeky smile and her whole world had dissolved into a whirl of red and white. Weightless and ethereal. Her entire body being enveloped by Ruby’s aura, her very soul itself, being suffused and transformed by Ruby’s own… Weiss certainly did not still dream about the experience. Regularly. She violently repressed such treacherous thoughts, banished them to the black pit in the back of her mind where she kept all her childhood trauma. (It was a rather large pit.)

Weiss’ throat burned as a cough wracked through it. Wet, hoarse and awful sounding. But singular. She ignored it. This was a singular incident, after all. A pure anomaly. One too bizarre to ever be repeated. It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Everything’s FINE! … Nothing bad ever happened. EVERRR!”

Weiss was quite sure she’d heard Nora say that long ago, though the details of the circumstances escaped her. Still, whatever the case may be, Nora definitely had the right idea. No point dwelling on irrational problems that clearly had no basis in reality. 

Her thumb absentmindedly stroked the petal as she thought. Something viscous and tacky met her touch. The pad of her thumb came away red. Weiss frowned as she began to rub with more intent. The petal was not red after all. It was pink? No, white. A white rose petal covered in a very distinct layer of red… of her…

No! Weiss shook her head violently. This was absurd! Such a thing could not be real. It made no logical sense. There was no such thing as someone coughing up rose petals and… and blood. Weiss carefully did not acknowledge the distinct metallic smell currently soaking into her glove. Very carefully.

Her rational mind floundered about desperately in search of an acceptable explanation. Had she accidentally swallowed an actual rose petal? No, that was absurd. Crops were grown up here in Atlas of course, almost entirely outside the city proper. Space was at a premium in the floating city, after all. No one would waste their limited arable land on something as ornamental as rose bushes. The vast majority of the kingdom’s crops were grown down in Mantle, on hydroponic farms or in massive multi-tiered greenhouses. (And even there, dust was vital. From Fire Dust to maintain heat to Plant Dust to encourage growth. Just more power and profit for the SDC.) There wasn’t a park, let alone a rose bush anywhere in the lower city. And the idea of flowers growing in the frozen tundra of Solitas was laughable. 

No, wasting space on something as frivolous as a garden or park up here in Atlas was the sole purview of the rich Atlesian elite. An image started to form on the back of her eyelids. That of her mother, bottle glued to her hand as if part of it, sitting in the garden, as she did every morning. Weiss violently beat the mirage back. There were white rose bushes at Schnee Manor. Blood and bile met her tongue. Weiss convulsively swallowed them back down. No, Weiss hadn’t been within five miles of a rose bush since returning to her home kingdom. She was absolutely certain of it. (Besides, swallowing an actual rose petal wouldn’t explain the… red liquid that was a close facsimile for blood.) 

Had she been drugged? Perhaps with Plant Dust? No. Her upbringing in Schnee Manor may not have been good for much, but Weiss knew far more than anyone should have to about how to avoid poisoning. Poison was the weapon of the rich, after all. She was always mindful of anyone having the opportunity to adulterate her food or drink. Besides, if anyone could recognize dust usage in her vicinity, it was Weiss.

A hallucination, then? Hmm. Whatever visions she’d just experienced in this very hallway belied dismissing the possibility outright. But still, Weiss didn’t think so. The horrid sensations still plaguing her body were far too visceral to be mere illusion. 

Illusions! Could Emerald or Neo have attacked her with their Semblances? Or some other unknown assailant with equally unknown abilities? Weiss glanced around this empty hallway, deep within the heart of Atlas Academy. This place wasn’t just a school, it was essentially the largest military base in the kingdom. Someone sneaking past that much security just to make her (think?) she was coughing up blood and flowers stretched the bounds of credibility. Still, that did seem the most likely possibility. Yet deep inside, Weiss found that explanation sorely lacking. 

Enough! Weiss shook her head and forced a deep breath through her aching lungs. Whatever had happened was over and done now. That’s all that mattered. She was fine! Perfectly so, even. With one swift and sharp motion, Weiss pushed off the wall she’d lurched against during her fit and stood proudly on her own two feet. She immediately began to sway as her legs refused to carry her full weight. Lurching right back into the wall was the only way to avoid spilling straight to the floor. Her hand (the one not carrying the petal) clenched into a fist. Her breath puffed through clenched teeth. 

Alright then. Time for another bout of problem solving. Using her flawless and expert reasoning, of course. Her fist brushed against Myrtenaster’s pommel. Now, there was a thought. Weiss quickly unclipped her beloved rapier from her belt and clutched the hilt with both hands. Weiss pressed the point of the sword into the floor tiles and slowly eased her weight off of the wall and onto her blade. Success! She did not go sprawling to the floor. Her legs weren’t even shaking all that badly. Using Myrtenaster as a cane and with all the dignity of an old man from a children’s story, Weiss slowly made her way down the corridor. Given her arguably diminutive stature, she didn’t even have to hunch over all that much.

The blade made a faint metallic ting each time it hit the tiles. The tip was likely to be bent pretty badly by the time she finally managed to reach Team RWBY’s dorm room. Once she noticed, Ruby would no doubt scold her terribly for mistreating her “baby.” Then again, Ruby would also certainly be willing to help her repair the weapon. They would go to one of the numerous small weapon maintenance rooms that liberally dotted the grounds of the academy. Just the two of them. All alone, at long last. They’d share a workbench, hips flush, with the both of them perfectly in sync as they gave her beloved Myrtenaster the care it so richly deserved. A smile graced Weiss’ lips as the fantasy took hold. 

Just then, the blade’s tip slipped along the smooth tile, and Weiss slipped right along with it. Her knees colliding with the floor gave a rather abrupt and unpleasant end to her daydreaming. Her elbows struck the tile half a second later. A burst of pale blue light filled her vision. Appearing and vanishing in the space of an eye blink. An aura flare, just from a stumble in the hallway!? Just how low was her aura? Only years of combat training allowed her to maintain her grip on her rapier, let alone not to accidentally stab herself with it. The impact forced her teeth together, and only luck itself kept her from biting her tongue. Weiss hung her head and breathed, allowing the shock and pain of the fall to fade. Which it did, thankfully quickly. Her aura must still be intact then. At this point, she didn’t even want to check how weak it had gotten. That word echoed weirdly in her head.

Weak! Weak. Weak…

A stitch formed in her side, right over the scar from Cinder’s spear. Truly she was nothing but weak, to not even be able to walk down a simple hallway.

No! Pride forced her head up. This (whatever this nonsense was) would not defeat her! She released her sword and maneuvered her hands to grip the blade instead. Even the tiniest motion was agony, but Weiss grit her teeth and endured. Driving the pommel of her rapier into the floor, Weiss incrementally clambered back to her feet. Mytenaster’s pommel was unusually heavy for a blade of its size. That, combined with the weight of the dust cylinder, now put much of the weight of the weapon close to the ground. Hopefully that would provide better stability. Heedlessly, Weiss gripped the blade of her weapon with both gloved hands and resumed her interminable journey. 

Now, a dull yet solid thunk was the music accompanying her steps. Doubtlessly Myrtenaster’s pommel was being scuffed horrifically, the damage increasing with every step. A flicker of amusement flared to life deep within her. Ruby truly would never let her hear the end of this. The flicker died, and Weiss allowed her lips to turn down as she studied her trusty rapier, aiding her faithfully even now. She may not be as maniacal about it as Ruby, but Myrtenaster was still nothing short of vital to her. She whispered a nearly silent apology to the blade, swearing on her honor as a Schnee to restore it to perfect condition whether Ruby helped or not. 

The seemingly endless corridor finally yielded to reality, and Weiss emerged from the training facility and into the courtyard beyond. The Atlesian sun was never particularly strong, but the transition to natural light still made Weiss’ vision swim. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a moment, and when that didn’t help, focused her gaze on the pale gray stones at her feet. After an indeterminate amount of time, her vision finally cleared. Every touch of air set her savaged throat on fire, but Weiss tilted her head up and tamed her shaking limbs with sheer force of will. 

Unlike the hallway she’d just left, the courtyard was bustling with life. Military personnel and Atlesian Knights milled about the space, crossing the courtyard with a clear sense of purpose. Weiss could not, would not falter, not with so many eyes potentially on her. The possibility could not even be countenanced. The cog and staff flag of Atlas regularly dotted the open space, hung in such a way that the banner would fly proudly even in the absence of wind. Weiss straightened her spine to match it. If she stopped using Myrtenaster as the worlds most dangerous cane (sorry Ozpin), what were her chances of crossing the rather large courtyard to reach the dormitories on the other side, without falling flat on her face? Unfortunately, Weiss didn’t like her odds. 

So, she moved steadily and purposefully across the square. Weiss refused to acknowledge the turtle-like pace she was keeping. Nor the fact that her arms shook with every strike of her improvised cane on the flagstones just as much as her legs did with each agonizing step she took. Yet she kept moving forward. Weiss kept her gaze fixed on the middle distance. She felt a number of lingering gazes track her ponderous progress, but Weiss carefully avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. The only grace afforded her was that everyone seemed intent enough on their own business so as not to approach her. That, and the fact that she hadn’t encountered anyone she knew. Running into Winter could be an even bigger disaster than running into any of her teammates. Small mercies. Ones she would gladly take at this point.  

Weiss was fighting an active war of attrition against her knees to keep them from buckling on each and every footfall. By the time she eventually reached the doorway to Team RWBY’s dorm, the war was all but lost. She had to lean heavily against the wall just to be able to take one hand off Myrtenaster and fish her scroll out of her pocket to unlock the door. She resisted the brief impulse to check her (certainly in the red) aura levels. The door slid open smoothly. In a movement that was half stumble and half dive, Weiss made a quick and desperate lurch for her bunk. She made it, barely, before her knees at last gave way. Weiss scarcely registered the sound of her rapier clattering to the ground before she lost consciousness. 

Weiss’ last thought, of course, was of Ruby.

Chapter Text

“What did you do to your baby?!”

Weiss’ return to the land of the living was neither slow nor kind. A shrill cry grated on her ears and sent her back into her body with a jolt. A blur of red from an all too familiar cloak caught the edges of her vision as she felt her partner’s rapid approach.

“Weiss! You’ve worn the finish straight off the pommel!”

Her entire body ached and an exhaustion sunk deep into her bones. She hadn’t felt this tired since… well since the Fall of Beacon. A grimace twisted her lips as unwanted memories tried to come to the fore. Weiss blinked them away and forced her mind back to the present. Even then, it took her far too long a moment to realize she was sprawled awkwardly across her bunk, the lower half of one leg hanging diagonally off the edge. 

“The blade alignment is shot, too! Look! The point is all bent-y! Did this happen in training?”

Weiss took a deep breath, and devoted the entirety of her being into ignoring how much sheer effort that took. How the air didn’t seem to want to fill her lungs on the way in and seared everything it touched on the way out. 

“It looks like you pounded Myrtenaster against rocks or something.”

Weiss levered herself into a sitting position, doing everything in her power to hide the struggle that involved. Even something as simple as sitting up in bed set her muscles trembling. She turned a lifetime of Schnee pride (and etiquette training) into forcing them to be still. 

“Did you fight a Petra Gigas without me?!” 

Weiss made sure her muscles were steady and her back straight before she finally faced her partner. A quick burst of insight had her keep her fists closed to conceal the… fluids and material within. Those fists then rested quietly atop her thighs. It felt like sitting up took ages, but given the speed of Ruby’s rant, it was likely mere moments. Weiss tilted her chin up and finally met judgmental silver eyes with her own. The childish pout on her lips clashed terribly with that accusing stare. Weiss fought the urge to smile. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. 

“Don’t worry, dolt. I didn’t sneak off today to fight Grimm without you.” 

Given the simple fact that Ruby was here at all, hours must have passed. Enough time for Ruby to go on her guard mission and return. But if Weiss was asleep that whole time, why was she still so tired? Her body wanted to sway and every organ within her screamed at her to lay back down. She didn’t listen.

Ruby opened her mouth, but Weiss forestalled her. There were far too many questions she wouldn’t (or couldn’t) answer.

“Who knows how it could’ve happened? Combat damage is normal for a huntress’ weapon after all. It’s of no great concern.” Weiss voice was dripping with feigned nonchalance. Internally, she pleaded for her precious Myrtenaster’s forgiveness and reiterated her promise to return her to her perfect magnificence. Just as soon as pesky little problems like getting out of bed without falling on her face were resolved. Such a minor issue. Trifling really. 

Ruby’s mouth could have caught flies. Weiss was unsurprised to see Ruby held Myrtenaster in her hands. At her words, she gripped the blade tightly to her chest. She’ll cut the strings of her corset if she keeps that up, Weiss thought idly. 

“Don’t listen to mean old Weiss. You are beautiful and you’ll be in tip top shape in a jiffy.” 

Ruby stroked the flat of the blade with one hand. The motion was so affectionate, one would have thought that the rapier was a living thing that could preen at her touch. Could one be jealous of their own weapon? No, surely not. What an utterly absurd notion. Not even worth the barest of considerations. 

“Old?! Mean and old, even?” Weiss sniffed. She was genuinely a bit miffed, but amusement splintered through the feeling, leaving it in taters that soon vanished altogether. This was just how she’d known Ruby would react, after all. “Hmph. It’s just that some of us don’t have toxic codependent relationships with our weapons, Ruby Rose.”

“How dare you!” Ruby gasped. “Crescent Rose is a strong independent woman.” A grin twisted her lips, and the judgment in her eyes had been replaced with a twinkle of appreciation for their game. The silver in them even seemed to sparkle a touch brighter. Weiss couldn’t help looking into them.

“Oh, of course she is. I’d never dare question that. You’re the toxic codependent one.” 

“Lies! Lies and slander! Defamation of character!”

“I’m honestly surprised you even know what that is.”

“Mean Weiss. That’s too mean…” Yet a smile still adorned Ruby’s face.

“…Sorry.” Weiss realized her lips were pulled up at the edges as well. She forced her gaze away from sparkling silver to examine her sword, still being cradled lovingly in her partner’s grip. If Ruby clutched any tighter, she really would cut the laces on her corset. A vision bloomed unbidden into Weiss’ mind. One of her taking the place of her weapon in Ruby’s embrace. She ruthlessly uprooted the image as quickly as it grew, burned it to ashes and buried it in the deepest recesses of her mind. “Thankfully, I have the perfect solution. You can help me restore our baby into ‘tip top shape.’”

“What?” Ruby’s mouth fell open again. “Our baby?!” If Weiss could trust her eyes, she’d have sworn that Ruby’s cheeks were stained red. Unfortunately, her vision was beyond unreliable ever since that (non)incident in the training room earlier. 

“But of course. Clearly you’re taking a parental role, protecting precious Myrtenaster from ‘mean old Weiss.’ Tell you what, we’ll share custody. You coparent Myrtenaster and in turn I’ll coparent Crescent Rose.” 

Weiss must be delirious, there’s no way she could say such things so smoothly otherwise. It was beyond worth it, though. The look on Ruby’s face might very well be the most entertaining thing she’d ever seen in her entire life. The ever energetic girl was still and silent, her eyes wide with shock and staring blankly at seemingly nothing.  

“Unless of course, you don’t trust me with Crescent Rose.” Weiss tried to feign a pout, but she was enjoying herself far too much for it to be very successful. 

Those words seemed to break Ruby out of her stupor. She twitched visibly, then spoke. “Of course I trust you with my baby! Or our baby… Or…” Fresh crimson burned across her face. Her next words were serious though. “Crescent Rose is my life. And I trust you with both. Er… I mean my life and my weapon that is my life… Uh… I know you know what I mean! You know I trust you!”

Something warm blossomed in Weiss’ chest at the rambling speech. She did know that Ruby trusted her. Back at Beacon, she was the only one Ruby had ever let wield her weapon. Unless it was a true battlefield emergency, using another huntress’ weapon just wasn’t done. Weapons were far too personal to an individual huntress for that. 

Surprisingly, it had been Weiss’ idea. They’d been sent on a partners mission into the Emerald Forest to thin out the Grimm that wandered too close to campus. Professor Goodwitch had given them strict instructions to only go after low level Grimm and not to stray too far from campus. Ruby had started whining about the restrictions as soon as her back was turned. Half an hour and two painfully easy Beowolf packs later, she was still complaining. More than fed up at her partner’s childish behavior, Weiss had snapped. In an attempt to get Ruby to shut up more than anything else, she’d proposed a challenge. They switch weapons, and whoever killed the most Grimm in the next half hour was the winner. 

Ruby had just stared at Weiss for at least a good ten seconds. Honestly, the blessed silence itself already made the proposal worth it. Then a massive grin spread across her dolt’s face and in a whirl of rose petals Weiss found Crescent Rose in her hands and Myrtenaster in Ruby’s. She blinked. No matter how many times she experienced it, her partner’s speed never failed to astound.

Ruby had shouted something about the loser owing the winner a dozen cookies. Then she was off in another swirl of petals. Weiss huffed and then summoned a Glyph to chase after her wayward partner. Or at least, she tried to. The weight of Crescent Rose threw off her balance enough that her first bounce nearly sent her colliding into a tree. Only a quick second Glyph saved her from the embarrassment. Weiss hefted the massive scythe. It was like lifting one of Yang’s barbells in the gym. One of the heavy ones. She gave it an experimental spin. Even in her heeled boots, the blade flashed over her head and the momentum nearly wrenched the weapon out of her hands. How did Ruby manage to walk around with this much weight clipped to her belt, let alone wield a weapon this hefty?

Weiss shook her head and gritted her teeth. She’d set the challenge and she’d be damned if she failed it without even trying. That fool of a dolt would get a swelled head over it anyways. Accounting for the added weight, Weiss successfully traversed her Glyphs to catch up with her partner. A small gap in the forest yielded Ruby and yet another pack of perfectly ordinary Beowolves. But where the previous packs had garnered boredom and childish complaints, Ruby now whooped loudly as she gleefully attempted to poke holes in the Grimm with her borrowed rapier. Whirls of rapidly dissipating black smoke along the ground indicated her previous successes. 

Unbeknownst to Weiss, a smile graced her own lips at the sight of her partner’s joy. Determined not to fall too far behind, she had heedlessly charged the closest Beowolf. The Grimm snarled at her from beside a rather large pine tree. Weiss threw her entire body into swinging the scythe, letting the momentum of the great weapon carry it through her foe. Crescent Rose cleanly cleaved through the Beowolf and impacted the trunk beyond with a solid thunk. The two halves of the neatly bisected Grimm spun away from the force of the blow and soon disintegrated into nothingness. 

Weiss’ teeth shone with her grin. While neither as elegant nor precise as her beloved rapier, she was beginning to see this scythe’s appeal. (Nothing would ever compare to her precious Myrtenaster, of course.) An opinion that rapidly changed, however, when she tried to remove the blade of the scythe from the pine’s trunk. And absolutely nothing happened. Another sharp tug later and Crescent Rose remained firmly embedded in the wood. 

Weiss frowned but her expression soon cleared when she realized she could apply basic physics to solve the problem. Force was multiplied by distance, after all. She shifted her grip to the very end of the handle. Then threw all her weight into pushing the handle down in an attempt to lever the blade up and out of the tree. Her aura enhanced muscles strained with every bit of force she could bring to bear. Weiss held her breath. She swore she could feel the blood pounding within her veins. Beads of sweat dotted her brow. And at long last… Weiss’ feet slipped out from underneath her. The handle was wrenched from her grasp. A cloud of dead pine needles exploded around her as her behind struck the forest floor. Crescent Rose stayed mockingly stuck to the trunk. A hum reverberated in the air as the handle rapidly oscillated before settling into quiet stillness. Well at this point, this was nothing short of a personal affront. It would not stand. Weiss had half a mind to set the cursed tree on fire and Crescent Rose right along with it. 

“Need a little help there, Princess?” 

Drat! 

Weiss had so hoped Ruby had been too busy with the Beowolves to notice her infinitesimal faux pas. Clearly, she had no such luck. Weiss regained her feet with as much dignity as she could muster and suitably ignored the random forest detritus now liberally adorning her combat skirt. She turned to face her partner and immediately regretted it. It was incredible how Ruby’s face could scream outright laughter without making a sound. Weiss barely restrained the impulse to slap the expression straight off her face. There wasn’t a Beowolf in sight. (She’d never catch up in their little game now…)

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” A lifetime of elocution lessons came to the fore. Every syllable was pronounced precisely yet with a distinct bite. “Obviously, Crescent Rose’s current predicament is a testament to my great strength. I cleaved halfway through the tree, after all.” 

It should not have been possible, but Ruby’s expression grew even more gleeful. She carefully returned Myrtenaster to her hands before strolling over to the tree imprisoning her weapon. Weiss took the opportunity to surreptitiously brush her clothes off while her partner’s back was turned. Meanwhile, Ruby didn’t even pause to assess the situation. With a seemingly casual grace, she freed her weapon with one smooth motion. Only then did she pause, examining the scar now carved into the pine. The rather shallow scar. Calling it a quarter of the way through the trunk would have been rather generous. A huff of laughter finally escaped her lips. Ruby’s cloak fluttered slightly in the breeze as she turned back towards her. Blue eyes met silver.

Wow, her eyes really sparkle when she’s happy. It’s so striking. The silver almost seems to shine…

“You know Weiss, Yang does a bit of personal training on the side and-“

“Not another word, Ruby Rose!” Weiss interrupted sharply. Ruby shut her mouth so fast her teeth clacked and she tried to (largely unsuccessfully) wipe the amusement from her face. Weiss stormed off into the woods without a backwards glance, the crimson shadow at her heels uncharacteristically maintaining her silence. Hmph. That fool of a dolt might learn some semblance of wisdom yet. 

Obviously, Weiss lost their little bet. However, her honor as a Schnee would never allow her to renege on a debt, no matter how ridiculous that debt was. So, she was determined to make Ruby a dozen cookies with her own two hands. Weiss marched straight into the dorm’s kitchen and… set the oven on fire… twice. In her defense, she only set the kitchen curtains on fire once. Eventually, her efforts paid off with a batch of cookies that were at least an edible shade of brown. (The many batches burned black and sacrificed to get to this point need not be dwelled upon.) 

Weiss proudly presented them to her dolt. Ruby took one bite and immediately downed half her milk glass. Ruby smiled sweetly at her as she took a second bite. Her face turned a shade of green Weiss hadn’t thought possible for the human body. Yet her smile never faltered. Two glasses of milk later and the first cookie was devoured. Ruby accidentally knocked two of the cookies together as she reached for another. They made a distinct “clack clack” sound. Weiss relented with a grimace and begged Ruby to just toss the rest of the inedible little hockey pucks into the garbage. Ruby met her eyes as she refused. They shone with some emotion that Weiss couldn’t quite identify. Matter of fact, Ruby insisted on eating the full dozen right then and there.

Weiss never did understand why…

Chapter Text

Those same sparkling silver eyes drew Weiss back to the present. She took a moment just to regard her partner. Sincerity and amusement were evident on her face. Only the barest trace of concern marred her features. 

“I trust you, too.” Remembering herself at the last second, Weiss restrained her desire to reach out to her dolt. The warm feelings in her chest tamped down somewhat. Her incriminating fists stayed pressed into her thighs. “So that’s settled then. The weapons workshop around the corner is probably empty. Let’s work on Myrtenaster. Together.”

Ruby didn’t reply right away. Her head tilted slightly and the light in her eyes dimmed a bit. Her gaze roamed over Weiss, from the top of her head to the soles of her heeled combat boots. She forced herself not to shift under her partner’s scrutiny. The edges of Ruby’s lips turned down. Finally, she spoke.

“Nope.”

“What?” Weiss blinked. A pain that was rapidly becoming all too familiar began to bloom in her chest. 

“Nope. The only place you’re going is back to bed.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? You were asleep on your bunk when I came in. In the middle of the day. In your full combat outfit.”

“I… I wasn’t asleep.” Weiss wanted to jump up in indignation, but was wise enough to strangle the impulse. If she got up right now, there was far too high a chance that she’d end up sprawling to the floor. Then again surely Ruby would catch her and… She shook her head violently to dispel that useless image. A move that thankfully doubled as denial of Ruby’s words. Yet even that relatively small motion made her head swim a bit. “I was merely… merely taking a break. Yes. That.”

Ruby gave her a look at that lame excuse. Flat and unimpressed. Such an unnatural expression for the good-natured girl’s face to hold. Weiss despised the sight of it. 

“You… taking a break?” If possible, Ruby’s voice was even flatter than her expression. “All on your own? Without one of us even forcing you to?”

Drat. Weiss had almost forgotten that Ruby knew her far too well to lie to effectively. Had she noticed how much difficulty she was having just sitting up in bed right now? Probably. Double drat. 

“I just haven’t been sleeping well the last few days is all.” That at least, was the truth. “So I decided to take a break. I can be sensible, you know.” That last sentence came out far too petulant for Weiss’ liking. It matched the doubting look Ruby gave her perfectly.

“What’s wrong, Weiss?” Ruby’s voice was so caring and sincere that Weiss had to look away. 

“I’m fine. Everything is perfectly mundane.” Nothing untoward was going on. Nothing!

“Myrtenaster was on the floor when I came in. On the floor! You’ve never failed to put your weapon away properly after training. Never ever.”

“I… well I…” Weiss floundered about for an acceptable excuse and failed. She was right. Dammit.

“Weiss, you still have your boots on. Your dirty combat boots. On top of your bed.”

“So what? I just… forgot them when I took my break. And my boots are immaculate! I polish them every night and you know it.” Weiss was absurdly grateful to have an objective counterargument to Ruby’s words. 

“Weiss.” Ruby’s sigh expressed infinite patience and long suffering in equal measure. “The last time I put my combat boots on your bed, you screamed at me for three days straight.”

“That’s completely different. Your boots were actually filthy! You kept stepping on my bunk in them to climb into your own! So inconsiderate.” 

“I know you hate shoes on your bed.” Ruby started calmly counting her points off with the fingers of one hand. “You were lying on top of your bed with your shoes on when I came in. Plus, you left Myrtenaster on the dorm room floor. You’ve literally never done that before. Ipso fatso, I know something’s wrong.”

“It’s ipso facto.”

“That’s what I said.” Ruby frowned cutely.

I should not find this dolt half as charming as I do.

“Stop trying to distract me.” Ruby sliced her hand through the air. The other still secured Myrtenaster against her chest. “I know something’s wrong and I know you’ll never admit it. Remember when you caught the flu that one time? Right after you won that singles match against Nora? I’d had to sit on you just to get you to stay in bed.” 

Now that was an image Weiss did not need in her brain right now. Were her cheeks hot? She shook her head again as she forcibly shoved that worthless memory from her mind. (She hadn’t even been healthy enough to properly enjoy the experience and—No! Worthless! And into the black pit it went.) Hopefully, Ruby would take the motion as a refutation of her slanderous words. (Just because they were true didn’t make them any less slanderous. Obviously.)

“Everything’s fine.” Maybe if Weiss said it enough times she could manifest it into reality. “Besides, if you know ‘I’ll never admit it,’ then isn’t this whole conversation topic pointless? On top of being entirely moot, for as I’ve had to reiterate far too many times already: I. Am. Fine.” Blue eyes defiantly met silver. Big mistake. The naked worry in Ruby’s gaze made Weiss momentarily freeze.

“Do you have the flu again? Is that it?” Unfortunately, Ruby was too thick-headed to yield to her perfectly logical argument. Weiss didn’t even try to keep the scowl off her face. Ruby made to reach out to her, but aborted the motion halfway through. Her hand came back to rest on the rapier’s hilt. “Can I check you for a fever?”

“I…” Weiss blinked, then had to swallow. The action seared her insides. “I suppose so. If it’ll prove to you that I am completely fine.”

Ruby released Myrtenaster with her right hand. Then the back of her newly freed appendage pressed into Weiss’ forehead. Ruby’s hand was so warm against her cool skin. Weiss’ eyes drifted shut and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into the contact. This close, the faint scent of roses that always permeated her partner tickled her nose. Air flowed easily through her lungs in what felt like the first time in forever. Her heart gave a lurch, and Weiss couldn’t even begin to identify the whirl of emotions within her.

I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I don’t know what’s wrong. Ruby, please, I’m so… 

Ruby withdrew her hand and the spell was instantly broken. Weiss straightened her spine and pressed her lips primly together. She turned her gaze calmly back to her partner. Attentive and seemingly unaffected. 

“You don’t feel warm. But still…” An audible breath escaped Ruby’s mouth. “Weiss, just tell me what’s going on with you. Please. Pretty please. Pretty, pretty please.” Her puppy dog eyes were a deadlier weapon than Crescent Rose would ever be.

“Nothing is going on with me, Ruby.” Unfortunately for her, Weiss had nothing to say. For something to be wrong something rational had to exist first. Not this nonsensical absurdity that clearly doesn’t (can’t) exist. “I’m just behind on a bit of sleep. That’s all.”

“…Fine.” Ruby’s eyes screamed that she knew Weiss was lying. “You’re still taking the rest of the day off though. If I see you spend even one minute studying today I’m taking your scroll away.”

“Hey!”

“And your binders!” 

“Ruby!”

“And your reference books.”

“Stop treating me like a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!” Ruby took a deep breath and quickly deflated. Her shoulders sagged. “Sorry.” Sincerity dropped from every syllable.

Luckily for her, because Weiss was about half a breath from slapping her, bloodied glove or no bloodied glove. Ruby forestalled her when she reached a hand out towards her again. Slowly, so as to leave Weiss time to refuse the contact if she wanted. She did not. The hand then lightly gripped her shoulder. Much to her shame, Weiss’ whole world once again fell away until the warmth of their point of contact was all that remained. Breath came so easily, so naturally that Weiss didn’t even register it. 

“I’m sorry. Please just listen, Weiss. You’re terrible at taking care of yourself. I know it. Deep down, even you know it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud…” Ruby muttered that last sentence.

“What was that?!”

“Nothing!” Ruby took a hasty yet deep breath. “Please Weiss, just let me take care of you.”

Why, oh why, did this fool of a dolt have to be so damn genuine all the time? 

“That’s a lot of “please” and “sorry” to squeeze into a few sentences, Dolt.” Weiss raised an eyebrow at her partner. “Your diction could use some work. Maybe if you spend less time playing video games and more time reading books, your vocabulary would improve.”

“Weiss.” The word was a verbal headshake if ever there was one. Ruby released her shoulder and withdrew her hand. Weiss’ whole body immediately felt colder.

“Alright.” Weiss made sure her voice practically dripped with disdain. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll rest for the remainder of the day. Even though it’s completely unnecessary for a multitude of reasons.” 

“Thank you so much! Nice Weiss strikes again!” Ruby’s serious demeanor quickly fell away, transforming the girl into a quivering ball of energy. She glanced down and blinked, seemingly remembering that she still had a rapier pressed to her chest. “I’ll just take our baby—I mean Myrtenaster!—to the workshop.” Ruby’s face briefly matched her cloak. “I’ll come check on you later, I swear! And Myrtenaster will be perfect by morning, I super duper swear!”

Warmth filled Weiss at her partner’s rambling speech. It started in her chest and quickly suffused every artery and vein. Air moved with a thoughtless ease through her lungs. 

“Penny was going to work on Floating Array, too.” Her obliviously excited partner kept talking. “Maybe we could—“

Warmth evaporated at the sound of Penny’s name, snuffed out like a fire deprived of oxygen. A different flame soon replaced it, though. Much to Weiss’ detriment. Pain pounded deep within her brain, then raced down her spine and spread into her lungs. Try as she might to suppress it, Weiss couldn’t stop the great hacking coughs that escaped her throat. She barely managed to clamp both hands over her mouth before the first. Time lost all meaning as the fit continued. Every muscle spasmed with agony. After interminable eons, the attack finally ceased. Her gloves came away wet. This time, Weiss refused to even look at them. She squeezed her hands back into fists at her sides. Her head hung down and her eyes squeezed shut. It took all of her concentration just to get air to slowly move in and out of her abused lungs.

Breathe in. Everything’s fine. Breathe out. You’re fine. Breathe in. Nothing is wrong. Breathe out. Nothing’s wrong!

Turns out her dolt was right about something, after all. With just a little rest, it’ll be like none of this ever happened at all. This bizarre little one off that was today could be safely erased from her memory.

“Weiss! Are you alright?!”

A metallic clang sounded as a firm grip suddenly appeared on both of Weiss’ shoulders. She opened her eyes to find her partner kneeling before her. Rose petals fluttered through the air, though most dissipated before they hit the ground. One or two drifted across Weiss’ cheeks. Weightless. Ephemeral. A ghostly caress. Had Ruby truly used her Semblance to cross the infinitesimal space between them? Apparently so. 

“You dropped our baby.” Weiss halfway felt she was dreaming. Everything in her vision had soft edges. 

Ruby made a sound that was half laugh and half choke. “I apologize. I’m a terrible parent cause I really don’t care. Are YOU ok?”

Ruby didn’t care that she’d just roughly handled another huntress’ weapon? Alright, who was she and what had she done with her partner? Breathe in. Breathe out. Twin scents of roses mingled in her nostrils. One achingly familiar. The other disturbingly not. Weiss really wanted to keep the banter up but she truly didn’t have the energy for it. Or the air. Breathe in. Breathe out. The faintest of coppery tangs teased her tongue. Honestly, right now she really didn’t have the energy to sit upright. 

“I’m fine, Ruby.”

Three short words should not have been this ponderous.

“…”

Ruby’s silence spoke volumes. Her grip tightened on her shoulders. 

“Are you still trying to deny you’re sick? Seriously?!” 

Weiss carefully hoarded enough air to speak. “…I already agreed to rest today. What more do you want from me, Ruby?”

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

Weiss blinked slowly. Her eyelids felt gummy, like they didn’t want to open back up at all. Still, she tilted her chin up and met her partner’s gaze forthrightly. The honor of the entirety of the Schnee lineage steadied her voice.

“I promise I will take care.”

Tension rapidly fled Ruby’s body at her words. They both knew Weiss would never break a promise. Especially not to her. Ruby released her shoulders and hopped back to her feet. Her smile could have chased away storm clouds, leaving only rainbows and sunshine in their wake. 

Wait. Was that just a hint of a storm hidden deep within her partner’s eyes? Weiss fought a frown and opened her mouth, but Ruby outpaced her. 

“I’m sorry I grabbed you like that. I know you don’t like it when people do.”

Previous suspicions instantly forgotten, Weiss blinked, momentarily stunned at her partner’s insight. Another swirl of emotions swelled within her, temporarily overcoming her physical ailments. She choked on air (at least she hoped it was air), and could find no words to express what Ruby’s thoughtfulness meant to her. Weiss merely nodded, knowing it was a pathetically insufficient response. 

Still, that seemed to be enough for Ruby. She silently nodded back, her cheerful demeanor perfectly restored once again. She then turned to retrieve Myrtenaster. She sheepishly turned the blade in her hands, inspecting for fresh damage. 

“It’ll be perfect. I promise. Unless you want me to stay and keep you company?”

Yes, please. 

“Of course not. I’m fine alone.”

She always was. Weiss was more than acclimated to solitude, after all. One could even say it was her natural habitat.

“If you’re sure…”

Please stay, Ruby.

“I’m just going to change and try to take a nap.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “After all, someone forbade me from doing the sensible thing and studying.”

Both of Ruby’s eyebrows raised and Weiss scowled in return.

“I already promised, Dolt.”

Ruby’s expression cleared. She turned toward the door, the rapier still held in her careful grip.

“I’ll message Blake and Yang and ask them to bring you some food later. And I’ll check in later too. Promise.”

Ruby, please…

“…Thank you.” 

Ruby gave a cheerful wave (a gesture Weiss was quite unable to return) and left. The door slid shut behind her and Weiss was, once again, alone. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Chapter Text

Weiss watched closely as, with a final flash of a red cloak, her partner vanished from sight. She took a completely unnecessary yet suitably careful look around the dorm, verifying its obvious lack of life. Only then did Weiss allow her posture to relax, her whole body sagging like half melted wax. Air sat heavy in her lungs, and she could feel her diaphragm strain with each inhale. Was her Aura actively enhancing her muscles of respiration? Was that why it had been so low? Clumsy fingers fished out her Scroll. An angry orange bar with 32% underneath it met her vision. 

No! 

Weiss scowled and shook her head violently, shutting her eyes and gritting her teeth at the vertigo that ensued. What utter nonsense. 

Before she could stop it, her body listed to the side and leaned heavily against the divider separating her bunk from Blake’s. Nothing was wrong. Weiss tried to push off the wall, but the moment her head lost the support the entire room started spinning. Any number of factors could cause low Aura. (In spite of the… involuntary nap she just took.) All of them perfectly reasonable and rational. Not this utterly absurd poppycock. She didn’t groan as her forehead regained the blessed coolness of the drywall. Certainly not.

She just needed to approach this situation calmly and logically. Create a systemic plan with her next steps in order. Do that and the situation would certainly resolve itself in her favor. Most certainly. 

So, what needed to be done? First, she needed to gather a change of clothes. Second, get to the bathroom and change out of her combat outfit. Third, get back into bed. A plan so horrendously simple, a toddler could execute it. 

Weiss gritted her teeth and pushed off the wall again. This time she shut her eyes against the vertigo and kept herself from collapsing back onto her bunk with sheer force of will. She slowly rolled her head from side to side, stretching her neck as far as it would go, until the swimming sensation in her head became more manageable. Weiss refused to be bested by something so absurdly childish. Absolutely refused.

Weiss slowly pried her sticky eyelids apart to behold the dorm room. It stayed reasonably still. A first victory already achieved. She drew a series of slow, deliberate breaths. The buckles on her numerous belts dug into her abdomen with the excessive effort that took. Weiss’ lips thinned. Her next step became readily apparent. She successfully unbuckled her various ammo pouches on her third try. (Her gloves—which she unequivocally refused to look at—were unfathomably stiff and thus made the entire process extra cumbersome for no discernible reason.) 

Weiss took the time to methodically wrap the belts around the pouches. She may be… tired, but she’d never allow herself to become slovenly. She leaned forward to place her pouches on the ground neatly, and had to desperately brace herself with one arm when the motion wanted to send her pitching to the floor. This was ludicrous! She’d spent years training her sense of balance for combat. 

Still keeping one arm pressed firmly into her bed, Weiss incrementally placed her ammo pouches in a neat pile on the floor at the foot of her bunk. Each motion was calm and perfectly deliberate. (Her arm did not begin to shake under the utterly mundane effort of keeping her balance. Absolutely not.) The belt with the clip for Myrtenaster precisely adorned the exact center of the top of the pile. The sight of the empty clip sent Weiss’ mind hurtling back toward her missing blade and her equally missing partner. Who was certainly in the weapon workshop by now. With Penny. Likely talking a mile a minute about topics Weiss couldn’t even begin to comprehend. 

Heart pounding right along with her head, her burning lungs scarcely resisted the great hacking coughs that wrenched from her throat. Reflexively Weiss slapped a hand over her mouth just before the first escaped. (To cough with an uncovered mouth was just uncouth. Such horrendous behavior wasn’t even worth contemplating.) Her legs instinctually kicked out during the fit, knocking over her carefully arranged pile. 

Fourth, get some rest and put this sheer madness behind her. Permanently. 

Once the paroxysm finally subsided, Weiss ignored the water gathering in the edges of her eyes in order to glare at the resultant mess. Her precise pile was utterly destroyed, and her various belts and pouches were now strewn haphazardly across the floor. This would not do. Not at all. Such an affront to the very concept of order could not be countenanced. Simply could not. Besides, if one of the Dust vials had cracked on impact, it could cause an explosion.

Her mind forcibly focused on Ruby once again. Namely, on how they met. A completely accidental collision. A veritable rainbow of Dust types going off. A stammering yet obviously sincere apology from a just as obviously innocent soul. And what had her response been?

“Ugh, you complete dolt! What are you even doing here? Aren't you a little young to be attending Beacon?”

Weiss grimaced at the memory. She’d been such an entitled brat. Even Ruby had gotten fed up with her. As well she should. Awful. Just absolutely awful. 

No! 

Her lips pressed tightly together. She’d grown so much since then. Weiss was a much better person now. Wasn’t she? But if that were true she wouldn’t be filled with such horrid feelings at… No wonder Ruby— 

Her lungs started to burn again, thankfully distracting her from her unwelcome thoughts. A single resounding cough clawed its way up her throat. Weiss stifled it with a hand, but the sound still slipped through her fingers. An oppressive silence settled in its wake. 

Enough of this nonsense! 

Weiss just barely caught herself from shaking her head again. Slow, deliberate (and not at all laborious) breaths. After a small eternity, her lungs eased ever so slightly. She needed to focus on the present. Ruthlessly and single-mindedly. That was the only path forward. Small, precisely planned steps.

Weiss needed to eradicate this abhorrent mess and restore order. That was clearly the top priority. Blinking rapidly and repeatedly to clear her watery vision, she carefully assessed the situation. Thankfully, none of her ammo pouches had gone very far. Gathering them up again should be trivial… and it would be trivial. Insignificant things, like the room swimming before her eyes again or her growing confidence that if she tried to stand up right now her legs would fold up under her like a newborn fawn’s, would not stop Weiss Schnee from accomplishing her goals! And right now, said goal was regathering her belts into their previously neat pile.

Weiss let her head sag for a moment, and just focused on getting oxygen through her lungs. She rolled her neck again, since that seemed reasonably effective last time. She counted to ten silently, then forced her head up proudly, her gaze focused and sharp. She was Weiss Schnee. She’d defeated the Arma Gigas. She’d vanquished a Queen Lancer. She would not be bested by something so mundanely preposterous. She knew precisely what to do. Keeping both hands braced against the edge of her bunk and her back straight, she carefully shimmied forward to the edge of the bed. Then, keeping her back braced on end of her bunk, she slid as slowly as she could manage to the floor. 

Once Weiss reached a perfectly dignified sitting position on said floor, her back supported firmly by the edge of her bunk, a breath slipped past her lips that was certainly not relief. Certainly not. She gathered everything within easy reach and restacked them neatly. Only one belt with attached pouch remained. She hooked the offending belt with her foot and dragged it within reach. There, perfectly organized once again. A veritable testament to the very ideal of order. 

Now, onto the next step in her foolproof plan. Gathering a change of clothes. Weiss dubiously eyed the closet where her entire team kept their wardrobes, located on the far side of the room from her bunk. Inconvenient, that. She tried to push up onto her feet with her legs and succeeded only in slamming her tailbone into the ground as her legs rapidly gave way under her bodyweight. A huff of air was punched from her lungs as pain lanced up her spine. Yes distinctly… inconvenient. 

A light tinkling noise drew her attention. A vial of Dust had dared to escape her meticulously perfect arrangement. Weiss instinctually grabbed the vial before it rolled out of reach. Lightning Dust. Utterly useless in the current juncture, but it did give her an idea. Weiss slipped the vial back into her bandolier and replaced it with a purple one. Gravity Dust. A teasing smirk pulled at the edges of her lips. Yes, this would do just nicely. 

A flick of her wrist and small black Glyph appeared, violently throwing open the closet door. A moment’s thought, and Weiss retrieved a vial of white Wind Dust as well. A set of standard Atlas pajamas (dark sweatpants and a light T-shirt with the Atlas cog and staff emblazoned on the front) soon floated in the air. A carefully controlled mini tornado carried the outfit through the empty space before dissipating to let the clothes rest gently on her lap. No longer merely teasing, Weiss’ smirk grew outright smug. 

There was no problem that could not be solved with the judicious application of logic.

As Weiss gazed at the open closet door, her thoughts drifted back to her last conversation with Ruby. Her attention then turned to her boots. Her incriminating boots. Placing her outfit and Dust vials neatly to the side, she slowly drew her legs in and began unlacing her boots. The entire process quickly became needlessly clumsy and irritatingly laborious, for the fingers of her gloves were still oddly stiff. Weiss carefully and deliberately avoided thinking about why that might be. Her success in doing so was clearly a victory worthy of herald. 

Her boots slid off her feet in tiny increments. However, Weiss soon lost patience with their insufferable obstinace, and shoved them off her feet with both hands. A violent motion that definitely did not unbalance her and set her head floating again. Definitely not. Catching herself at the last moment by bracing desperately back against the edge of her bunk, Weiss glared at the offending footwear. And when that failed to correct its recalcitrant behavior, she was forced to escalate. A quick Gylph sent both boots flying across the room to slam into the closet with a satisfying thunk. Another and the closet door slammed shut with a shaking impact. Weiss nodded sharply. (A motion that did not intensify the floating sensation inside her skull. Obviously.) Time in isolation to contemplate their misdeeds could only do the miscreants good. 

Weiss’ gaze shifted past the closet and towards the bathroom. The door of which was basically at a near direct diagonal from her bunk, and thus about as far from her current position as could be found without leaving the room. Her expression slid toward a sneer. Clearly, this affront was a deliberate provocation upon her personally from whatever talentless buffoon of an architect had designed these dorms. Not to worry though, she was Weiss Schnee, after all. Never to be bested by such mere trifles. She shifted her legs slightly again, and they shook terribly even lifting her a bare inch off the ground. Her expression slipped further into a grimace as she settled back securely into a sitting position. As aggravating as those trifles might be. 

Still, the tools were well within her grasp and the solutions even more trivial to a prodigious intellect such as hers. Taking up the Dust vials in one hand and her pajamas under her arm, Weiss was soon weightless and floating in mid air. She had to close her eyes and breathe deeply for several long moments. The air was leaded, sitting in a lump in the bottom of her lungs before being forced back out with a noticeable strain. What complete and utter nonsense. Weiss suitably ignored it. 

A distinctly unfamiliar feeling of disorientation pervaded her mind. Absolutely unacceptable. Not to mention absurd. She’d been training with Gravity Glyphs for years before she’d even started at Beacon. She opened her eyes and narrowed them, turning her attention back towards the bathroom door with a laser focus. Weiss calculated launch angles and rates of velocity with the ease and quickness of one who had been practicing such for years. A black Glyph, angled with expert precision, soon appeared at her feet. The Glyph turned red, then released, sending Weiss hurtling through the air toward the bathroom door. 

At least that’s what was happening in the rich landscape of logical probabilities that was her mind. In the cold and indifferent illogic of reality however, Weiss was hurtling toward the unyielding ceiling above the bathroom door. She only had a split second to react, but as a veteran Huntress, that was a near eternity of time. A fresh Gravity Glyph appeared before her, and Weiss slammed into it rather than the ceiling. The Glyph strained and stretched with the collision but soon stabilized. The abrupt change in momentum caused bile to surge up her throat, as her stomach rebelled at the brutal deceleration. Huffing, Weiss clung to the Glyph in midair. Her stomach was waging a full on insurrection by this point, but Weiss was brutal in her suppression tactics, and soon had the uprising utterly quashed. No other bits of her anatomy could be allowed to revolt, after all. (Not that any of her was. Weiss had her body perfectly under control. Of course she did. After all, It was the only logical conclusion to make.)

Once she was in perfect control of her facilities again (not that she had ever lost control of them in the first place, of course), Weiss dismissed her Glyph to drop lightly to the ground. Her knees buckled with a jolt the moment her heels touched the floor. She clutched tightly to the doorframe to keep herself upright. Her legs shook, every muscle quivering in protest, begging Weiss for relief from the cruel demands of defying gravity. Such protests fell on deafer ears than complaints of poor working conditions did to her father. Her mouth twisted as her knees finally locked back into place. Her legs still trembled, but they stabilized enough to support her weight, if nothing else. The bathroom door slid open before her, and Weiss stepped confidently through it. The satisfaction of victory suffused her every pore.

See? It was obvious. There truly was no problem that couldn’t be solved with the judicious application of logic.