Chapter Text
The wind bit at her cheeks as Weiss Schnee stood before the final gate, a tightness coiling in her chest that had nothing to do with the cold. It felt like standing on the edge of a stage after the curtain had already dropped... no script, no audience, just the deafening hush of what came next.
It was less grand than she’d imagined. A weather-worn arch of stone carved into the cliffside, the gate marked the boundary between the kingdom of Atlas and the wilds beyond. No guards. No banners. Only the crunch of snow beneath her boots and the echo of her own breath, shallow and tight in the silence.
She hesitated.
Behind her lay everything she had ever known... high towers, colder expectations, silver cutlery and silver lies. Ahead stretched a world unmapped, unknown. Untamed.
Her gloved hand drifted to her lapel, brushing the crest of her family... cold, silver, and so very heavy for something so small. The metal pin caught the light like it always had: polished, precise, unyielding.
Her father’s voice echoed in her memory, colder than the wind.
"If you walk away, Weiss, you do not return."
And Winter’s, just before she’d been cast out... firm, low, cracking at the edges:
"Don’t come after me. I made my choice. You’re not ready to make yours."
Weiss squeezed her eyes shut, fingers curling around the pin.
“You don’t get to decide who I become,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the wind. Her breath fogged the air. “Not anymore.”
She pulled the pin from her coat.
The metal stung her fingers as she crossed the threshold and reached up to press it against the stone of the gate. There was no ceremony in it. No grand farewell. Only the soft scrape of silver on stone as she left it behind.
Her chest felt hollow. Lighter, somehow. Like she’d set down a burden... but in doing so, lost a part of herself she wasn’t sure how to live without.
She stepped forward, claiming the first step of a path that was finally hers.
The snow gave way beneath her boots, the path sloping down toward the tree line in the far distance. Each step was a decision, a rebellion. The wind caught her coat and tugged at her ponytail, but she didn’t look back.
A flurry passed through, and the trail behind her vanished.
She was alone.
The realization settled heavy in her chest, but she didn’t stop walking. Her thoughts circled tightly. She remembered Winter’s hand on her shoulder... warm and steady; of sitting too stiff at long dinner tables; of staring out frosted windows and imagining that somewhere, out there, her sister still lived, still waited, still believed in her.
It wasn’t much to go on. But it was hers... an instinct, a hope, a stubborn shard of belief that for once, her life could be something she chose.
Weiss Schnee, once heir to the Schnee family's legacy, now nothing but a girl in a coat walking into the snow.
And for the first time in her life, no one could tell her to turn around.
—
Days had passed since she left the gate.
Weiss trudged through the frozen forest, each step a test of will against the relentless drag of exhaustion. Her coat... tailored and ostentatious, more suited to a ballroom than the biting cold... hung heavy with melting frost. Myrtenaster rested at her hip, the comforting weight swaying gently with her stride, a last remnant of structure in a world that no longer obeyed rules. The once-pristine navy fabric of her coat clung to her arms like wet silk, and her polished boots squelched with each reluctant step.
The trees stretched tall and silent, branches dusted in white, offering no shelter from the cold wind threading through them. The sun had disappeared hours ago behind a ceiling of pale gray, leaving everything tinted blue and dim.
She gritted her teeth, trying not to shiver. Every muscle ached. Her rations... carefully packed under the naïve assumption she could survive off dried fruit and jerky... were dwindling faster than she dared admit. Lighting a fire had proven harder than she’d imagined. Everything was damp. Her fingers trembled too much to strike the flint with any real precision, and each failed attempt only made her more aware of how cold she was becoming.
She dropped to her knees near the base of a wide pine, snow puffing up around her like smoke. Her breath rasped in the stillness. She pulled off one glove and fumbled with the tinder again. Cold bit into her skin immediately, but she forced herself to keep going.
The strike came. For one breathless second, she thought it would catch... a spark, brief and bright. It fizzled uselessly, leaving her heart pounding in hollow frustration.
Another. Still nothing.
"Come on," she muttered, voice cracking.
Another spark. A tiny curl of smoke.
It died.
Weiss let out a sharp breath, not quite a sob, and slumped back against the tree. The bark scraped her shoulder through the thin fabric of her coat. She pressed her hand to her face, trying to rub warmth into her cheeks, but her fingers felt distant and numb.
Winter wouldn’t have failed at something so simple. She’d have had a fire going by now, probably humming while she did it, like that camping trip when Weiss was eight and sulked the whole time about sleeping on the ground. Winter had made it look easy then, too. She would have known which wood to gather, how to build a proper shelter. She would’ve laughed at Weiss trying to ration by weight instead of calories.
“I’m not useless,” Weiss whispered into the collar of her coat. It didn’t sound convincing.
How long had it been since she’d seen a road? Since the gate? Three days? Four? The ache in her legs said more. Her pride said less.
She tried to stand. Her knees buckled, sending her straight back into the snow. Heat flared in her cheeks despite the cold, her breath catching in a stung gasp. No one was watching, but the shame still clawed at her throat like a scolding tutor.
“No,” she hissed. “No. Just... stand up.”
One leg braced against the tree, she shoved herself upright, chest heaving with the effort. Her vision swam. Each footfall came with effort, her boots crunching through a layer of refrozen snow as she forced herself forward, one shaky step at a time.
Then her foot slid.
The world tilted sideways.
Ice caught beneath her heel, and she pitched forward down a slight slope hidden beneath the snow. Her arms flailed... no grip, no footing... and then everything became white and motion and cold.
She landed hard. Pain jolted up her side. Her head struck something... stone, maybe... and the impact shattered everything into silence.
Snow drifted softly around her like the smoke from her failed fire, cold and weightless, settling over the silence as her breathing slowed, shallow and unsteady.
Darkness crept in like mist at the corners of her vision.
And then nothing.
—
Warmth touched her cheek.
Not fire. Not breath. Something softer, older... like sunlight through still water. Weiss stirred, her brows drawing tight as she fought her way out of the fog. The last thing she remembered was falling. Snow. Ice. The jolt of pain when her head struck something hard... then nothing.
Now… birdsong.
Her lashes fluttered open. Green filled her vision. A canopy of leaves overhead, delicate and new, danced in the breeze. It wasn’t snowing. In fact, there was no snow at all. Just moss, sun-warmed stone, and the scent of blooming flowers so fresh it made her dizzy.
She was lying on a bed of something soft... woven leaves and mosses, warm and dry. Her coat, still damp but neatly folded, rested nearby with Myrtenaster placed carefully atop it, untouched and gleaming faintly in the filtered light. Her body ached faintly, but not like it had before. There was no sharp pain. No cold. Just a bone-deep weariness, wrapped in unexpected peace.
She sat up slowly.
A soft gasp left her lips as golden light flickered through the grass, retreating as if startled. It curled beneath the moss she’d been resting on and vanished.
“What…” she whispered.
“Good morning!”
The voice came from nearby.
Weiss startled, twisting toward the sound...
... and found herself face to face with a girl. Or half of one.
She stood at the edge of the clearing, silver eyes bright beneath a tumble of black hair streaked with crimson, framed by the soft dappled light filtering through the trees. Her upper body was human... sun-kissed skin, a cropped black-and-red top, lean arms marked with faint scars and strength... but it merged seamlessly into the chestnut body of a horse, legs shifting easily beneath her as she stepped forward with a soft clatter of hooves.
“You’re so pretty when you’re not dying,” the girl said brightly.
Weiss froze. That was not a sentence she’d ever expected to hear... certainly not first thing after waking, and especially not from a stranger with hooves.
Was this mockery? A trick? Her instincts twitched toward defensiveness, but the girl’s tone held no malice. Just sincerity... and baffling cheer.
A centaur.
She was speaking to an actual centaur.
Weiss scrambled backward, heart hammering.
“Woah, woah!” the centaur said, hands up. “No need to freak out. You were dying in the snow, remember? I fixed you.”
Weiss looked down at the mossy bed. The warmth. The golden light.
“You’re real?” she asked faintly.
“Yup!” The centaur beamed. “Pretty real, last I checked. I mean, I’ve got hooves and everything.” She tapped one against the stone. “See?”
Weiss opened her mouth to speak, then paused, lips parting in silent bafflement. There was no etiquette for this. No script. What did one say to a stranger who looked like a dream and spoke like a breeze? She shut her mouth again, uncertain whether words would help... or just make everything more surreal.
“Name’s Ruby,” the girl said cheerfully. “What’s yours?”
“…Weiss.”
“Weiss.” Ruby repeated it with clear delight. “Pretty name. Kinda chilly-sounding, though. Fitting, considering where I found you.”
Weiss frowned faintly. “Where… exactly is here?”
Ruby spun in a slow, easy circle, her hooves brushing the earth with a musical clatter. Where she stepped, the grass seemed to brighten, new blossoms curling open behind her like a trail of laughter left in bloom.
“A little grove I like. It’s friendly. Doesn’t like when people bleed on it, though, so I asked it to help. And it did.”
“You… asked the grove.”
Ruby gave her a look. “What, you’ve never talked to trees before?”
“…No.”
“Huh. Weird.”
Weiss pressed her hands to her temples. “I hit my head.”
“Only a little,” Ruby said. “You’re mostly better now. Some scrapes, some bruises, some really dramatic flopping around. But no frostbite or broken bones. So you’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Weiss said, wary. Her gaze lingered on Ruby. “Why would you help me?”
Ruby tilted her head. “Because helping people is just what you do. Or... it’s what I do. If someone’s hurting, and I can help, then I will. Doesn’t really matter who they are.”
Weiss frowned. “You don’t know me. I could’ve been dangerous.”
“You didn’t look dangerous. You looked miserable.” Ruby smiled. “Besides, I’ve got a good sense for people. And you looked like someone who needed help, not a fight.”
Weiss studied her for a long moment, trying to make sense of the centaur’s openness, the utter lack of guile in her voice. Then her gaze darted to Myrtenaster.
Ruby caught the glance. “Go ahead, grab it. I’m not gonna stop you.”
Weiss hesitated. Then slowly reached for the rapier and pulled it close. Ruby made no move to intervene.
“Don’t worry,” Ruby added. “If I wanted to eat you, I’d have done it before I tucked you in with moss and flowers.”
Weiss gaped. “Eat me?”
“Kidding!” Ruby grinned. “Mostly.”
Weiss narrowed her eyes.
“Okay, okay,” Ruby said, still grinning. “No eating. Sworn on a basket of wildberries.”
Weiss raised a brow. “That’s not a real oath.”
“It is if you’ve ever had wildberries,” Ruby said. “Very serious business.”
A small sound escaped Weiss... half a huff, half a disbelieving laugh. She quickly smothered it.
Ruby plopped down on the moss beside her, hooves folding underneath her with ease. She held something out... a bundle of leaves tied with a bit of vine.
“Here. Food. You look like someone who forgot what real food is.”
Weiss opened the packet slowly. Berries. Nuts. Something that smelled faintly of honey.
“I foraged it myself,” Ruby said proudly. “No poison. Probably.”
Weiss gave her a flat look.
“Kidding again,” Ruby said. “I check everything. Nature and I are tight.”
Weiss nibbled at a berry, despite herself. Her instincts protested... this was untested, unsupervised, unknown... but her stomach won the argument. It was sweet. Surprisingly so.
Silence settled between them. Weiss watched the way sunlight laced through the leaves, the way the flowers leaned subtly toward Ruby’s presence. This place shouldn’t exist... not here, not in this season. And certainly not after she’d nearly frozen to death.
Ruby glanced at her. “You’re taking this pretty well.”
“I’m deciding whether or not this is a coma dream.”
“That’s fair. Let me know if anything starts floating.”
Weiss shook her head slowly, more bewildered than anything.
A centaur.
She’d been saved by a centaur.
The moss beneath her still held traces of warmth, like the forest hadn’t stopped caring even after the danger passed. And somehow, that wasn’t even the strangest part of the day.
Weiss wasn’t ready to stand yet, but pride made the decision for her.
The warmth of the grove lingered on her skin as she pushed herself upright, brushing bits of moss and flower petals from her sleeves. Her coat was still folded nearby, but she ignored it. The air here didn’t demand layers. Not like Atlas, where stepping outside without three was considered reckless. Here, the warmth sank in through her skin... unexpected, unfamiliar, and just shy of unsettling. It made her feel untethered. Exposed. Almost free.
Ruby was close. Too close, really. Not just in distance, but in presence... steady, warm, and so undeniably real. It wasn’t the proximity that rattled Weiss, but the disarming sense that someone genuinely wanted to stay near her. She stood patiently, arms crossed over her chest, her equine legs shifting in that easy, grounded way that made her presence feel as natural as the trees.
“I can walk,” Weiss said before the thought even finished forming.
Ruby blinked at her. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
Weiss took a step.
Her foot sank slightly into the moss, and her knee buckled.
Ruby caught her before she fell... one arm around her back, another braced across her forearm. The contact startled Weiss more than the stumble. She froze, heart thudding, acutely aware of the warmth and steadiness holding her up. It had been a long time since anyone had caught her before she hit the ground. The centaur’s strength was casual, unshakable. She smelled like crushed herbs and warm sun.
“You’re really not,” Ruby said, her voice soft with concern. “You nearly face-planted into a squirrel’s front yard.”
Weiss exhaled sharply through her nose. “I suppose he would’ve filed a complaint.”
Ruby brightened. “Oh, totally. He’s a menace. Larch throws acorns at people he doesn’t like.”
“I can see why you get along.”
Ruby grinned. “You do have a sense of humor. Good to know.”
Weiss looked away. Her cheeks were warm, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the stumble or the way Ruby hadn’t let go yet.
“I’m fine,” she said again, trying to straighten.
Ruby didn’t argue. She shifted her stance, lowering her torso slightly to Weiss’s level with an easy dip of her front legs. It wasn’t quite a bow, but something gentler... an unspoken offer of support. “Let me come with you. Just until the next village.”
Weiss hesitated. Her pride reared up again, just long enough to remind her of all the reasons she should decline. She didn’t need a guide. She didn’t need companionship.
But she did need balance.
“…Fine,” she muttered. “Just to the next village.”
Ruby beamed. “Deal.” Her eyes sparkled with something earnest beneath the cheer... like she’d just been invited somewhere she’d long hoped to go.
They set off at a slow pace, Weiss’s steps careful and deliberate. Ruby adjusted her gait without comment, walking alongside with the kind of ease that made it impossible to feel like she was waiting.
It was… strange. Not unpleasant. Just unfamiliar.
Weiss kept expecting the silence to stretch too long, for the weight of her own thoughts to press in again. But Ruby filled the space lightly, humming a tune with no real rhythm and pointing out oddly shaped clouds through the tree canopy.
At one point, she paused mid-stride to lean over and rehang a fallen bird’s nest, her tail flicking absently behind her. The motion was fluid, like it had never occurred to her not to help.
She glanced at Ruby... who was now humming again and twirling a leafy twig between her fingers... and thought, not for the last time:
What have I just agreed to?
A/N:
I'm really excited to share this story with you. It’s been sitting in my idea pile for a while… I had the premise, but wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it. Then last week, something clicked, and it just wouldn’t let go. Now, somehow, I’ve got a full 10-chapter outline and five chapters already drafted.
One of the things I’ve loved most while writing this is leaning into Ruby as a guardian-of-nature figure. It’s been such a fun contrast to Weiss’s sheltered, highborn perspective, and it’s helped shape the whole tone of the fic. Going forward, you can expect a light-hearted, fairytale-esque adventure with soft romance, found family, and just a touch of action… not the angsty kind, promise.
I love hearing your thoughts as the story unfolds, so feel free to drop a comment with your favorite moments!
Update schedule: Since I’ve got a head start with five chapters drafted, I’m planning to post one chapter a day. If I fall behind or get busy, updates will still come at least once a week.