Archive of Our Own

“To the Esteemed Veterans of the Battle of Beacon,

On behalf of the Atlas Council, it is our distinct honor to formally invite you to a Memorial Gala held in solemn commemoration of the courage and sacrifice demonstrated during the Battle of Beacon.

Your service and valor on that day represent a pivotal moment of defiance and resilience in the face of profound darkness. The Kingdom of Atlas wishes to honor those who stood on the front lines, and we request your presence as our Special Guests for the event, to be hosted next Friday at the Event Hall of the House Of Virtues.

Your attendance would be a profound tribute to those we lost and a powerful symbol of unity for the future of Remnant.

We eagerly await the honor of hosting you.

With the deepest respect and gratitude,

Councilman Sleet

The Atlas Council”

The calligraphy was excellent, Weiss could certainly concede that, and she only needed a single glance at the signature to know that Sleet had signed it himself by hand, even if the rest of the invitation itself was printed on fine, embossed stationery. It felt like it weighed a thousand tons in her grip as she looked down at it while pacing back and forth across the dorm room their team had been given at Atlas Academy, her three teammates silent as they looked down at their own invitations.

They’d been delivered by hand, sealed in fine envelopes with the silver wax crests of the council, by a formal aide in fine clothes and practiced manners. It had visibly taken all of Yang’s self-control not to make some sort of comment, but she’d done an excellent job behaving herself.

So now they all either sat or stood around their dorm as they looked down at the invitations, Blake’s eyebrows both all the way up, Yang scoffing, Weiss pacing in thought, and Ruby’s expression hidden from her back being turned as she faced out the window.

It was quite the way to end another long day of work, having arrived just while they were having dinner scattered around the room, eating in an exhausted quiet with only soft music from Yang’s scroll to break the comfortable, warm silence.

Outside the window, the sun had truly started to vanish beneath the horizon, painting the frozen Solitas sky a glistening pink as the rays scattered through the permanent crystals of frost hovering among the clouds and waiting to fall down.

Eventually Yang broke the silence, smacking her lips and looking up at everyone else. “So are we going? Like, actually? Is there a discussion to be had here?”

From where she was leaning against the bunkbed’s ladder, one arm crossed over herself and a foot resting up behind her as she scanned her own invitation for the hundredth time, Blake scowled down at it almost as if she wanted it to burst into flames.

“They wish. I’ll party with our friends any day, rain or shine, but I’ve got no interest in shaking hands with Atlas’s high society.”

Weiss stopped her pacing, turning to face Blake with a sharp exhale of breath.

"Blake, this isn’t just ‘high society’, this is the Atlas Council. They don’t invite you to things because they think you’ll enjoy their company." She held up her own invitation, the heavy card stock catching the last of the fading light.

"And you think we should indulge them?" Blake countered, her golden eyes narrowed as she finally looked up from the paper. "They want us to put on nice clothes and clink glasses with them while they pat themselves on the back for some of us surviving a battle they inadvertently helped escalate?"

Standing up from her bed, Yang stretched with a loud groan before tossing her invitation onto her bed with a dismissive shrug, and took a moment to nudge her shoulder against Blake’s with a soft smirk.

"Woah, okay, claws in. That’s a lot of cynicism, even for you." Yang waited for Blake to raise a dry eyebrow at her before crossing the room to grab up her dinner carton again and pinch from the leftovers. "Look, I get it. But let’s look at the upsides, shall we?"

Grabbing out three chips from her carton, she held them up, and popped one into her mouth to emphasise each of her points as she listed them.

"One: Free, probably amazing food. Atlas catering is top-tier. Two: It’s a gala! That means dressing up." Yang grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at how that specific point made Blake roll her eyes while Weiss seemed to genuinely consider that aspect. "And three, and this is the big one: Everyone is going to be there. They’ll all have gotten the same invite. It’s an excuse for a reunion, and we get to do it in style."

Weiss pressed her lips into a thin line. "Yang, this is not like the Vytal Dance. It’s a formal gala. You don’t ‘hang out’ at a council function."

"Sure you do." Yang insisted, crunching loudly. "You just do it with expensive cheese. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?"

While Blake scoffed, and Ruby finally made a noise from the window when she snorted and smirked over her shoulder, Weiss didn’t react in any particular way, a thought having occurred to her that had her looking down at her scroll as she flipped through recent articles at a blinding speed, her lips moving as she read.

The others watched her patiently, letting her mind work, with Ruby turning properly and leaning back against the window, blinking curiously as Weiss’s expression darkened further and further. Eventually, Weiss resigned and snapped her scroll closed.

“Politics, Yang.” Weiss murmured as she looked down at her invitation again. “Politics will happen.”

When she didn’t immediately go into one of her usual explanations about what she’d been thinking about, Yang and Blake looked at each other in concern, and Ruby kicked off the wall to make her way over to stand by her partner.

“Politics…?” Ruby prompted softly.

It was enough for Weiss to sigh, and she turned to place her own invitation on her small table tucked against the wall, before crossing her arms and returning to pacing, slower than before and with a far darker frown.

“The election is in a month.” Weiss said simply as if it explained her entire thought process. But when Ruby and Yang both gave her lost blinks, and Blake’s ear flicked and her eyes narrowed, Weiss huffed. “This is for our endorsement.”

Blake’s eyes immediately dawned in realisation as she understood, and her glare at her invitation became even more venomous as her lip curled, and Yang frowned as she looked down at her leftovers and popped a slice of fried tomato into her mouth with a grumble.

Watching Weiss pace with thoughtful eyes, Ruby tilted her head curiously, and Weiss interpreted it as her not understanding, coming to a stop in the middle of the room with an old frustration in her sigh as she looked around at the others.

"That’s what the three of you have never understood, even back during everything at Beacon; everything is politics." Weiss’s tone was steady, but resigned, and her eyes sharpened for the briefest flash when Yang rolled her eyes. It was sharp enough for Yang to flinch. “And nowhere is that more true than Atlas.”

Weiss sighed, well aware of the can of worms this explanation might open, but she looked around at each of them regardless as she paced in a slow circuit.

"That’s the culture here, as well as the system. On paper, the kingdom of Atlas is a democracy.” Immediately shooting a preemptive glare at Blake to cut off a comment she knew was coming, and succeeding in doing so with Blake’s mouth clacking shut from where she’d had a quip on her tongue, Weiss gestured vaguely at the windows, and the glittering city beyond. “Which means that everyone’s voices are heard by everyone else, even if they don’t say anything cohesive. And it matters."

Weiss finally stopped pacing and looked directly at each of them, her gaze sharp and frustrated, but also resigned to the reality of it. Something cunning was curling behind her eyes, and the sight of it had Ruby looking down at her invitation again as she mulled. Weiss hummed in approval as the other three listened, even as she continued explaining.

"At a gala hosted by the council and its corporate supporters, which includes the SDC, every single major Atlesian candidate for the council seat will be in attendance. Just by showing up, we’ll be tacitly saying that they have our attention.” 

The idea immediately had Yang snorting and tossing her now empty food carton into the bin across the room, easily making the shot, and she brushed her hands together, while Blake actively looked like she was genuinely considering setting her invitation on fire.

Weiss looked to Ruby, the only one who seemed genuinely in the middle and weighing it up.

“Then, if we have a single conversation with any of them, or all of them, it could be interpreted as that candidate having us interested enough to hear them out." Weiss’s expression tightened into a grimace. "Meanwhile if we don’t go, it’s a message that we support none of them, which means that by default we support Mantle’s candidates. Which means-”

Yang was able to finish for her as she climbed back up onto her bunk and flopped, staring up at the roof.

“Everyone will assume that means Robyn.” Yang groaned, putting a hand over her face as the weight of it finally cemented. And she wasn’t thrilled. “...that’s insane.”

Ruby grumbled as she looked down at her invitation, before folding it and sliding it into her pocket, scrunching up her face. “And kinda makes me feel gross…”

All three of the others were a chorus of agreement in their own ways, with Weiss lowering herself into her desk chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands on her lap to think.

Nodding from where she was standing, Blake finally dropped her own invitation, tossing it onto her bed behind her and shoving her hands into her pockets.

“I agree. But…Weiss happens to be right.” Blake surrendered, the rest of the game of it clicking together for her. “And if only some of us go-”

Weiss finished for her with a hum of thin-lipped confirmation. “It says that the Beacon veterans have been discussing the election enough to have developed contrasting opinions. Enough so to divide us.”

That thought in particular had the three others rolling their eyes and scoffing at the very idea. But they were also put into an impossible decision by it, and they knew it. And Ruby had been telling the truth, it did make her feel particularly gross, and she turned back to the window with a sigh.

Slowly walking back over to it and looking out over the courtyard of Atlas Academy, Ruby worked her way through the list of the Beacon Veterans she knew were in the city. It wasn’t just the seven of them, and it wasn’t just the Atlas students who had been there. There were also other students from Beacon that had come to Atlas for refuge after the fall.

People who had family or friends they could stay with, either in Atlas or in Mantle, and eyes were going to be on all of them.

They were being used, and it made Ruby’s jaw tighten and her eyes narrow. “So no matter what we decide, we’ll be seen as taking a position. Even if we don’t actually have one.”

Weiss nodded to her partner’s back, looking at the sudden tightness in Ruby’s shoulders with a sympathy she couldn’t see but Weiss hoped she could somehow feel. “Yes. We’re new players in Atlas at the most inopportune time for new players. They need us to pick a line to fall into, and fast. Otherwise, we’re unknowns.”

Then she fell silent, her face falling, and Weiss closed her eyes in resignation as she took in a slow, deep breath and let it out in a controlled sigh. “And…none of you moreso than me.”

All three of the others looked over at her in concern at her sudden drop in tone and strength, and the way her posture had completely folded. It was more than enough for Ruby to spin around from the window yet again, and she thinned her lips in concern and crossed the room to sit on the bunk closest to Weiss.

“...because-”

“Yes. Because I’m a Schnee.” Weiss gave a single nod, still not looking up from her lap, her hands tightening together as she explained her particularly unique death sentence. “And unlike the three of you, come election day I actually get to cast a vote.”

Her three teammates stared at her, the fact dropping like a block of ice. They had been so caught up in the frustration of the politics, that they had completely forgotten the most fundamental difference between them in this city;

Ruby and Yang were from Vale, Blake was the daughter of the Chieftain of Menagerie. They were guests, veterans, and symbols, certainly. Their presence mattered. But they weren’t citizens of Atlas.

Meanwhile Weiss Schnee -  ex-heiress of the SDC and quite the renowned Atlesian musician in her own right - despite her travels and her schooling at Beacon, was Atlas born and bred. She had rights, responsibilities, and, most pressingly, a voice that people would listen to more than any of theirs.

A heavy silence descended, replacing the earlier frustration with a different kind of stress. For them, this election was a political storm they were being forced to stand near. For Weiss, it was an obligation, whether she wanted it to be or not.

Blake’s ears drooped slightly, and she watched her for a long moment, processing how everything Weiss did for the next month was going to be scrutinised. And how, in hindsight, everything Weiss had ever done had been scrutinised. Every word a statement, every vigilante action she’d taken with them in Vale a declaration of a position.

‘Everything is politics.’

Weiss wasn’t just reserved and private out of poise and manners. It was because the most powerful city in the world was hearing a sentence in every step she took, and every expression that crossed her sealed, porcelain face.

Finally, Blake straightened, her voice low and direct, cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

"So, are you going to?" she asked.

The question hung in the air, simple yet loaded. It wasn't accusatory, it was born of curiosity, but Weiss heard something else entirely and she snapped her head up, her eyes blazing with sudden, sharp defensiveness.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Weiss shot back, her voice tight and edged with ice.

Blake flinched slightly, and Weiss inhaled sharply, the anger momentarily replaced by a deep, pained frustration, and her eyes gave a silent apology that Blake accepted with a thin smile. After taking a moment to think, Weiss rubbed her temples, pushing a strand of white hair back over her ear, and let out a heavy sigh, the tension easing slightly from her shoulders.

"Look, I know Atlas isn’t perfect." Weiss conceded, her voice dropping. "Believe me, the years have only made it clearer."

She rose from the chair, walking past the others to look out the window at the glittering, cold city.

"But this is my home." Weiss reiterated, her gaze fixed on the endless, sparkling lights. "And believing in something…truly believing in it…means you don’t turn your back on it."

She spun to face them again, her expression resolute and firm, the coldness in her eyes now a steely determination, then walked back to her desk and picked up her invitation again, holding it not with dread, but with a new sense of purpose.

"So, yes." Weiss declared, meeting each of their eyes in turn, "I am. I refuse to abstain. I’m a pragmatist, not a pessimist."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Blake's face, a quiet pride that crinkled the corners of her eyes, and she nodded in pleased acceptance before sharing a satisfied smile with Yang, who shot her a wink before applauding Weiss quietly.

Ruby’s face broke into a wide, bright grin.

"That’s our Weiss." Ruby said simply, her voice full of enough warmth that Weiss looked away with the slightest flush on her pale neck. "We’ve got your back, no matter what choice you make."

"So, we’re going." Blake concluded, a touch of mischief returning to her eyes. She picked up her own invitation from the bed, though she still looked at it like a threat. "But we’re going on our terms, right? Not the Council’s."

Weiss finally allowed a small, tired smile to touch her lips. "Exactly. We attend, we observe, and we avoid endorsing any of them with extreme prejudice. Primarily by ignoring every single one of them. It says we’re there to judge their character, but haven’t decided by the time we leave."

Leaning back and thinking to herself, tapping her finger on her chin, Yang smirked. "We form a unified, silent, very well-dressed front. I like it."

“You’ve really locked onto the clothes part.” Blake remarked dryly, before rolling her eyes with a breathy scoff when Yang simply winked completely unapologetically.

All three of them then looked to Ruby, with the final call being hers just as it always was, and to her credit, Ruby was genuinely taking it seriously, having stepped up next to Weiss at the window with her arms crossed and a deep frown on her face.

Ruby’s eyes were distant as she looked out over the crystalline spires of Atlas, the perpetual twilight of the Atlesian sky reflecting faintly in their silver depths. Weiss watched her, a small, quiet action that went unnoticed by the other two, who were still caught up shooting their usual shamelessly flirty barbs back and forth behind them.

It had been years since Beacon fell, years defined by impossible odds, endless roads, and the brutal, often painful, education that the world provided outside of their academy walls. Not for the first time, Weiss found herself contrasting the girl standing beside her now with the bright-eyed, slightly clumsy, hyperactive leader who had first assembled them. 

That Ruby had been pure, untainted enthusiasm, a beacon of hope fueled by optimism and sugary cereal, but the Ruby standing there now carried the weight of countless decisions, some impossible, all consequential.

The curve of her jaw was sharper, her brow often held a thoughtful furrow that spoke of burdens carried far too young. Her silence wasn’t shyness anymore, it was the quiet of a leader calculating risk and morality. The once dominant youthful exuberance had simply been forged into something harder, and truer. A genuine, unshakeable confidence that no longer relied on a shouted 'We can do it!' but on a silent knowledge that she would find a way, even if she had to bleed for it.

The maturity was striking, and Weiss felt a subtle appreciation for the resilience of a finely-honed blade, beautiful in its strength. The way the light from the window caught the determined set of her lips.

Weiss shifted her weight slightly, tucking the observation away, and waited, hands resting loosely at her sides, offering the deference she knew Ruby deserved and had earned from her a thousand times over, something that nobody else ever had.

Finally, Ruby let out a breath, the sound barely audible over the hum of the city, and she turned from the window to face her team, her eyes bright and focused.

"Okay." Ruby said, her voice clear and carrying a finality that settled the matter, and her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "But I’m not wearing heels. And good luck getting me to dance.”

It was settled then.

The decision made, the tension that had gripped the room broke, replaced by a fresh, almost giddy energy, especially from Yang. The political maneuvering had been accepted as a necessary evil, but the prospect of a formal event, an opportunity to dress up and perhaps even escape their academic grind for a night, was too appealing to entirely dismiss.

"Alright, Operation: Politically Neutral is a go!" Yang declared, hopping off her bunk and landing lightly on the floor. She scooped up her invitation. "Now, the real question. What does one wear to politely infuriate the Atlas Council?"

Blake snorted, a smile playing on her lips. "Something respectable enough not to get us thrown out, but memorable enough to make their political spin doctors sweat."

"Exactly!" Yang pointed at her. "So, I guess we need to shop. Actually spend some of our new salaries."

Even as the enthusiasm in the room shifted its focus, Ruby, winced and scratched the back of her head in defeat. "...I don’t own anything that fancy that isn't covered in straps and pouches."

Weiss, now firmly in command of the practical planning, turned to her scroll. "We have seven days. The gala is next Friday. That gives us enough time for tailored alterations, provided we select something quickly. We have time."

She glanced at Ruby’s current outfit - jeans, a t-shirt, and her classic boots - and then at her own, impeccable outfit. "The key here is presentation. We must appear unified, professional, and entirely unapproachable by anyone holding a campaign button."

"So, like a very expensive wall?" Yang summarized.

"Precisely."

Over the next week, a strange, quiet tension settled over Team RWBY. It wasn’t a tension of conflict, but of burgeoning secrecy. They all had to secure appropriate attire, yet, each member seemed determined to acquire their outfit in isolation, turning the simple act of shopping into a high-stakes, covert operation.

They started using their free openings between missions, or even cutting their social time short, under vague, non-committal pretences.

"Going out to get…air." Blake would announce, slipping out with a discreet shopping bag tucked into her satchel. She’d always return slightly more relaxed, but utterly tight-lipped.

Unapologetic and absolutely not subtle, Yang would simply vanish for an afternoon, texting only to say she’d be late for dinner, and she always came back radiating an infectious, triumphant energy, her grin tight-lipped and her arms swinging empty, clearly having arranged a delivery or a secure drop-off.

Weiss, of course, operated with the quiet efficiency of a corporate CEO. She didn't "shop." She made appointments. She had fabrics swatched and designs sketched in private fittings, ensuring the garment met her precise specifications, and her purchases were delivered to the dorm in discreet, unmarked boxes, handled with the utmost care by staff who clearly knew better than to ask questions.

The most surprising was Ruby, who was the one who usually dragged her heels on anything remotely 'girly' or formal.

Yet, she became the most secretive of all. Her excursions were frequent, often involving hushed calls and quick, almost nervous trips into the city. Unlike the others who seemed to be choosing garments that reinforced their established public persona, Ruby’s secrecy hinted at something else entirely. There were no hints of what she was doing, no signs or clues, and she was often gone and back too fast for anyone to guess.

No one spoke of their selections. It was an unspoken agreement; a fun, low-stakes secret in the midst of high-stakes political intrigue.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session of combat practice, Yang stretched out on her bed, scrolling through her feed while Ruby sat at her desk, ostensibly studying a textbook.

"So, sister of mine…" Yang said casually, not looking up from her scroll, "What kind of high-fashion disaster are you planning on unleashing on the council?"

Ruby flinched, her pencil scratching abruptly on the page, and she didn’t immediately answer, instead twisting around in her chair. Her eyes darted from Yang to Weiss, who was currently organizing her notes at her own desk with her customary focus.

A faint, but definite blush rose on Ruby's cheeks, a light pink that quickly deepened as she looked back at Yang.

"Uh…it’s…fine." Ruby mumbled, adjusting her collar, her eyes flicking back to Weiss one more time before settling on the floor. She gave a quick, almost shy shake of her head. "You’ll see it when you see it."

Yang, finally looking up, raised an eyebrow at the sudden, uncharacteristic shyness, but before she could press the issue, she caught Blake’s eye.

As Yang looked over, Blake slowly lowered her book just enough to show her face, and offered Yang a subtle, knowing smirk paired with a single, slow, deliberate raised eyebrow. 'Don't push it too far.'

Yang paused, a thoughtful frown replacing her playful grin. She looked at Ruby, who was now staring intensely at her textbook, her face still faintly flushed, then over at Weiss, who remained completely oblivious, diligently highlighting a passage on Dust theory.

"Alright, alright, secret squirrel." Yang relented with an amused click of her tongue, going back to her scroll. "You used to be so upfront."

Ruby managed a weak giggle, and turned back to her studies, leaving the rest of the team to settle back into the quiet hum of their evening routine, the anticipation for next Friday building beneath the surface of their everyday lives.

Blake had tried to tease Ruby once, cornering her.

"So," Blake murmured, eyes shining with mischief, "I saw you at ‘The Velvet Hanger’ the other day. Quite a place for someone who claims to hate dressing up."

Ruby nearly choked on her coffee. "I was just…browsing!"

"Mhm. And you bought something that came in a box the size of a microwave. A very elegant, non-hat-sized box." With a dry raised eyebrow, far too knowing, Blake leaned closer. "Is whatever you’re planning going to be worth a scandal, Ruby?"

Eyes widening in surprise and then terror, Ruby’s face turned bright red, and she shushed Blake desperately.

"It’s not a scandal! It’s…it’s different, okay? And I just…I need to make sure I don’t look stupid. Especially in front of…" She trailed off, glancing quickly toward the briefing room door where Weiss was walking in, her usual picture of poise.

Following her line of sight, Blake’s smile softened into something genuinely warm before she looked back. "You could never look stupid, Ruby. And trust me, whatever you wear, you’ll look incredible. Just promise me you’ll actually wear it."

"I will." Ruby affirmed, taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders. "I just…want to look like I know what I’m doing, you know? Like I fit in."

Blake patted her shoulder reassuringly. "You fit in because you’re you, Ruby. Don’t forget that."

The Friday of the gala arrived with a biting chill that even Atlas’s climate-controlled atmospheric dome couldn’t entirely suppress, and in the Team RWBY dorm, a rare, high-strung silence had replaced their usual banter, growing tighter and more tense as the day had worn on..

By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, the common area was empty, each of them having retreated into different vacant dorms with their long-guarded secrets so they could each get dressed at the same time instead of having to take turns with a single, cramped bathroom.

It was a countdown, marked only by the soft clicks of heels, the rustle of heavy silk, and the occasional sharp intake of breath.

Unsurprisingly, Yang was the first to emerge, and she did so with a confident kick of her door that sent it swinging wide, and the entire room belonged to her from the first step.

Eschewing a traditional gown, Yang had opted for something far more her taste. Her trousers were a deep, midnight gold, tailored with a razor-sharp crease that elongated her legs, but it was her top that drew the eye. She wore a starch white, high-collared button-up of shimmering gold silk, tailored so precisely that it traced every sculpted line of her shoulders and back.

Both sleeves were rolled up, proudly displaying not just the power of her biceps, but the seamless junction where her battle-hardened flesh met the dull, brushed-gold finish of her prosthetic arm. It wasn't hidden or softened, it was presented as a masterwork of Atlesian engineering, a gleaming extension of her strength.

Just like always, but ready for a very different type of battlefield, she looked lethal, radiant, and entirely unapologetic.

“Well,” Yang said, giving a slow, theatrical spin as she checked her reflection in the darkened window, before shooting herself a wink. “If the wine is half as good as I look, we’re in for a hell of a night.”

The second door opened with a far more deliberate, quiet click so Blake could step out next, and Yang’s jaw visibly slackened.

The ‘scandalous’ warning for their shopping trips had been deliberately, almost maliciously, ignored.

Blake wore a dress of layered gossamer silk that shifted between bruised purple and an abyssal black, and it was held up by nothing more than thin, shimmering cords that crisscrossed her bare back in an intricate web. The neckline plunged deeper than anyone would ever expect from her old reputation, and the fabric clung to her like a second skin, flowing down to her ankles in a way that suggested the movement of water.

With her ears peaked and her dark hair swept to one side, she looked less like a quiet, differential faunus and more like a shadow-born socialite capable of toppling a government with a whisper. She looked dangerous.

“Good God, Blake…” Yang breathed, her usual bravado momentarily replaced by genuine awe. “You’re going to cause a riot.”

“Don’t taunt me with such lovely fantasies.” Blake replied with her own golden eyes smouldering as they raked along Yang’s outfit, her voice a low, smooth purr as she adjusted a single, dark glove that reached her elbow. “If we’re going to have silent voices, we might as well be loud in other ways.”

Then, the center door opened, and Weiss stepped out with the practiced, effortless poise of a queen returning to her throne. True to form and what would be expected from her, she wore a gown of shimmering Atlesian blue, a colour so cold and vibrant it seemed to pulse against her pale skin.

But that was where the expectations for her ended. Because the bodice was structured and encrusted with microscopic shards of sapphire Dust that caught the light like fallen stars. The most striking feature, however, was the daring leg slit that ran up her left side, reaching nearly to her hip and revealing the sharp, elegant line of her leg with every step.

It was a departure from her usual modest, bell-shaped skirts, a statement of adulthood and autonomy. She wore her hair in a high, intricate braid that mirrored the SDC crest, and her expression was a mask of porcelain perfection, though her eyes softened as she took in her teammates.

“You both look… impeccable.” Weiss conceded, her voice carrying the weight of her approval. She adjusted her silver necklace, the metal clicking against the sapphire stones. “Very nicely done.”

All three of them turned as the final door creaked open, far more slowly and apprehensively.

“Okay, so…” Ruby’s voice was shy enough that Weiss’s heart ached for a beat. “Don’t laugh or anything, ‘kay?”

The leader of Team RWBY stepped into the light, and a heavy, surprised silence fell over the room.

Ruby hadn’t abandoned her identity to try and pretend to be the socialite that she could never be, but she had evolved it, as she wore a version of her signature look, but translated through a lens of high-fashion femininity.

Her skirt was a heavy, pleated crimson velvet that held a regal weight, stopping three-quarters of the way down her thighs where her current combat skirt rested, over black tights, and expensive boots that were a polished, obsidian leather with elegant silver buckles.

But it was the alternate interpretation of her usual corset that transformed her, a structured piece of black satin and boning that cinched her waist and emphasized a silhouette she usually hid beneath her cloak, and her cloak itself was shorter, more of a formal stole of deep red silk that pinned at her shoulders with silver roses.

She looked like a fairy tale brought to life, delicate, yet decisively sharp. It was Ruby, but a Ruby who had looked in the mirror and finally recognized the woman she had become.

Ruby fidgeted for a second, her hands hovering near the laces of her corset before she caught Weiss’s stunned gaze. A small, nervous smile touched her lips, immediately nervous.

“Wow, Weiss…” Ruby whispered, her voice steady and clear even as her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed the slightest amount. “You look…beyond incredible.”

Weiss stared at Ruby speechlessly, her mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out as a slow, deep flush crept up from the collar of her gown, staining her neck and ears a vivid pink. For several long heartbeats, she could only blink, her gaze trapped.

"I-I, well," Weiss stammered, before hurriedly spinning on her heel to face the darkened window again, her back a rigid line of Atlesian blue. She cleared her throat twice, her hands fluttering at her sides before she tucked them into the folds of her skirt. "Thank you, Ruby. It is…adequate, given the time constraints."

After clearing her throat again, making a show of fixing up her tiara in the reflection in the glass as a poor, panicked justification to keep her back turned, her voice was several pitches higher than usual and possessed a distinct, uncontrollable tremor. "And you…you look quite… remarkable yourself. The velvet is a wise choice for the climate. Very…regal."

Behind them, Yang and Blake shared a slow, heavy, and devastatingly knowing smirk that said so much with so little;

This was going to be a long night, in the absolute best way.

Yang leaned her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms as she looked Ruby up and down one last time, her expression softening into one of pure sisterly pride. She reached out, ruffling Ruby’s hair just enough to be annoying but not enough to ruin the styling.

"Damn right she does." Yang chirped, her grin widening at Weiss’s stiff shoulders. "You did good. Real good. Sure, dad would have a coronary, but it’d be a nice break for it to not be from me for a change."

Successfully getting a giggle out of Ruby, who was still shifting shyly from foot to foot, Yang turned away, cracking her knuckles with a series of sharp, rhythmic pops that echoed in the quiet room. "Alright, team. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can start drinking. The sooner we start drinking, the sooner we will feel like we have teleported back here tomorrow morning.."

Yang strode out with her usual boisterous energy, and Weiss followed a half-second later, her pace unusually brisk as if she were trying to outrun the heat still radiating from her own face.

Blake, however, lingered exactly where she was standing, watching Ruby with those amber eyes that saw far too much.

As Ruby started to move, Blake stepped into her path, reaching out with a gloved hand to catch the edge of one of the silver rose buckles on Ruby’s cloak. She straightened it with meticulous, slow care, her smirk never fading.

“You know," Blake murmured, her voice a low, smooth purr that barely reached Ruby’s ears, "I’d say that reaction was an excellent sign. That’s some serious momentum you’ve got now, Ruby. Don’t waste it."

Ruby’s face went from a light dusting of pink to a shade of red that rivaled her own cloak, and she sputtered, her hands flying up to cover her cheeks as she took a frantic step back. "I-I don't know what you’re… Blake! Stop it!"

“You can’t play the innocent card on me anymore, Ruby Rose. I know you too well.” Blake laughed, a soft, breathy sound, and gave Ruby’s shoulder a final, encouraging pat before heading for the door. “But, in all seriousness, you do look beautiful. And I’m proud of you.”

Ruby stood alone in the center of the room for a second longer, her heart hammering against the rigid boning of her corset, before she took a deep breath, adjusted her stole, and hurried after the rest of her team into the cold Atlas night.

The biting wind of Atlas greeted them the moment they stepped outside, sharp and crystalline, whipping against the heavy fabrics of their outfits, and Blake and Ruby both shivered, while Weiss and Yang barely seemed to notice.

Yang had already made her way into the courtyard, her golden gait steady and confident, her prosthetic arm gleaming faintly in the artificial light of the academy lamps. As she heard the click of heels behind her, she paused, offering a knowing smirk over her shoulder and extending her arm in an inviting crook.

Blake, trailing slightly behind, didn’t hesitate. A playful light returned to her eyes, banishing any lingering traces of the possible stress that was coming for them, and she skipped forward, slipping her arm through Yang’s with a familiar, easy grace.

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I have my moments.” Yang gave her a beaming smile, her eyes sparkling as she brushed the fingers of her free hand along Blake’s arm affectionately. “Fleeting moments, but moments.”

The two of them seemed to instantly synchronize, moving with a shared, unspoken rhythm that had been forged in a thousand battles and quiet moments alike.

A few paces behind, Ruby and Weiss stepped out, the chill settling into their shoulders before Weiss pulled her own stole tighter, casting a quick, side-long glance at her partner. Ruby had already caught her eye, a faint, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and without a word, she stepped into sync with the former heiress.

They fell in at each other's sides naturally, their movements mirroring one another, Ruby’s impulsive, energetic step tempered by Weiss’s disciplined, measured walk.

Together, the four of them moved across the courtyard toward the waiting black car, its sleek lines cutting an imposing silhouette against the backdrop of the frozen city.

The chauffeur stood by the door, a motionless statue in the dark, and as they approached, the weight of the night, and the political theater that awaited them, threatened to settle back over their shoulders. But Yang refused to allow it to infect their night before it had even begun, and she gave the chauffeur an exaggerated salute before intercepting him so she could be the one to open the door.

Extending a hand to Blake, Yang grinned with an almost giddy level of charm when Blake laughed softly and took it, allowing Yang to help her into the backseat, and Yang’s eyes followed her for the entire movement. By the time her eyes finally left Blake again, Ruby and Weiss had reached the car, and Ruby stepped aside so that Weiss could enter first.

With a moment for the two sisters to look at each other in private while Blake and Weiss settled in, Ruby gave Yang a silently distressed look, aware that she was utterly out of her depth and with no idea what to do.

It wasn’t often anymore that Ruby came to Yang for any kind of advice, and certainly never the ‘big sister to little sister’ kind, instead of just being as warriors and comrades fighting the same war. So there was a novelty to the expression, something sacred and personal, that hit Yang in the chest and had any teasing bleed away, her smile becoming utterly proud and sincere.

“You’re going to be fine. It’s really simple, okay?” Yang murmured softly enough so only Ruby could hear. “Offer your arm to walk her inside, introduce her to people but let her do her own talking after, check in with her every so often to see if she needs a break, and if she does you step outside with her. Then, you walk her back out when it’s done, and once we’re back you make sure to say goodnight and to thank her for her company. Okay?”

Ruby’s posture was utterly rigid as she listened, giving tiny nods after each part of the instructions as if she was diligently committing them to memory, and she tried to force a smile but utterly failed. “R-right. Sure. I… Okay. Yeah. Easy peasy. Lemon…lemon squeezy.”

Feeling it was safe to do so, even if just once, Yang chuckled, and before Ruby could be offended she pressed a soft, supportive kiss to Ruby’s forehead. “You got this, ladykiller. Now get in the car. We gotta go.”

Ruby climbed in, the heavy crimson velvet of her skirt bunching slightly as she took her place beside Weiss, and after Yang climbed in to join them, the door clicked shut with a muffled, expensive thud, instantly severing the connection to the biting Atlas wind.

Inside, the car was a sanctuary of climate-controlled warmth and the scent of polished leather and faint, floral perfume. The engine hummed with a vibration so subtle it was felt more than heard, and as the vehicle began to glide forward, the familiar world of their dorm and the academy courtyard slipped away, replaced by the dizzying, vertical grandeur of the upper spires.

Ruby’s mind was a frantic relay race, looping Yang’s instructions over and over. Offer your arm. Introduce her. Check in. It felt like a mission briefing, but without the comfort of Crescent Rose’s weight on her back.

Out of her depth and trying to be bolder than she was, she felt exposed in the satin corset, the structure of it forcing her to sit with a poise she hadn’t quite earned, making every breath feel deliberate. She stole a glance at Weiss, who was staring out the window, her silhouette etched in the blue glow of the passing city lights.

Weiss always looked so natural in this environment, a creature of grace returning to the deep, while Ruby felt like she was trying to hold her breath underwater. Nothing flustered Weiss when it came to rules, etiquette, people, or pressure. She was unflappable, the picture of poise and perfection.

It was something that had vexed Ruby to no end, back at the beginning. But now she was just in awe of it. In awe of her. And she would need Weiss’s trademark brilliance tonight if she was going to get out of it without somehow, somehow, causing a political scandal.

"It’s bright tonight." Blake murmured, breaking the silence. She was sitting opposite Weiss, her hand resting near Yang’s on the middle seat. “The lights are all brighter than usual.”

Outside, the opulence of Atlas was on full display - massive holographic banners celebrating the 'Unity of Remnant' flickered against the sides of floating skyscrapers, and the streets of the higher parts of the city were dotted with the rich and powerful in furs and silks, all moving toward the same destination.

It was a world of polished silver and stained glass, beautiful and utterly indifferent to the struggle that had brought the veterans here that the night was supposedly commemorating.

"It’s a performance, Blake." Weiss replied softly, not turning from the glass. "Atlas loves a spectacle, especially when it serves to mask the cracks in the foundation. They want us to be the crown jewels tonight. We’re prizes to be won."

Yang reached over and gave Blake’s knee a reassuring squeeze, her hand lingering for enough of an extra beat that one of Blake’s ears flicked before Yang pulled it away without noticing the reaction. "Hey, look at us. We’ve fought Grimm the size of houses, fought the Forces Of Darkness, trademark pending, twice, and this journey of ours began when we toppled a criminal empire. A bunch of guys in suits and some fancy cheese? We’ve got this."

Ruby managed a small, grateful nod, but the 'social' role still felt like a puzzle with missing pieces. She wasn't just Ruby the Huntress tonight; she was a Veteran, a Symbol, and, most terrifyingly, Weiss’s partner in a den of political vipers. She worried about the way she spoke, the way she moved, and whether she would accidentally endorse a councilman by simply reaching for a shrimp puff.

This wasn’t her world, and it wasn’t Yang’s world either. And even if Blake seemed to have a bit more familiarity with it than they did, she openly detested it, and that wasn’t going to be particularly helpful to lean into for support.

It was all on Weiss. Again.

The car slowed as it entered the private drive of the House of Virtues, and the venue lived up to its name - a towering structure of white marble and gold leaf, illuminated by searchlights that swept the sky.

A red carpet stretched from the curb to the massive arched entrance, flanked by a few clusters of reporters and Atlas military honour guards. The flash of cameras began even before the car had come to a complete stop, a rhythmic, blinding strobe light that signaled the end of their anonymity.

A few other veterans of the battle, some people that Ruby recognized from school, were already either chatting to reporters, or making an active effort to ignore them, seeming to be openly projecting the disdain that Blake had promised she would keep inside.

Clearly they hadn’t figured out what was really going on tonight. But, then again, they didn’t have Weiss.

Ruby took a deep breath, her heart drumming against the satin of her corset.

This was it.

She looked at Weiss, saw the steely resolve in those blue eyes, and felt her own spine straighten. As the chauffeur opened the door, Ruby moved first, stepping out into the flashes and the roar of the crowd, then turned back, extending her arm with a trembling but determined hand to the girl in the shimmering blue gown.

“M-may I?”

Weiss paused for the briefest, most imperceptible second, her eyes widening slightly as she looked down at Ruby’s outstretched arm. The surprise was soft, flickering across her face like a candle flame in a draft, but it was quickly chased away by a genuine, private warmth that curled the edges of her lips into a smile.

She didn't hesitate, and she didn't pull away, instead she slid her own hand into the crook of Ruby’s elbow, her fingers finding a secure, steady purchase against the velvet.

"It would be my pleasure." Weiss murmured, a quiet melody to it that was meant only for Ruby.

They began to move, their synchronized step a testament to years of shared training and trust, and Weiss set the pace - deliberate, regal, and maddeningly slow - ensuring that the blinding barrage of camera flashes from the press line had ample time to catch them in their best light.

Reporters leaned over the velvet ropes, shouting questions about the Council elections, potential coalitions, and the 'future of Atlas,' but Weiss’s gaze remained fixed forward with her head held high and her expression a mask of elegant neutrality that deflected their prying queries like a shield

The silence was a deliberate, cutting statement that left the journalists scrambling for more than just a photo, and Ruby followed her lead, her hand firm on Weiss’s arm as she escorted her partner toward the towering, golden entrance of the House of Virtues.

She didn't offer a nod to the cameras or a quip to the shouting press; she simply mirrored Weiss’s composure, her focus entirely on shielding her partner from the political circus.

Behind them, Yang and Blake followed at a respectful distance, the two of them moving with an effortless, easy grace that bordered on hautiness, because Yang just couldn’t quite stop herself from swaggering, and Blake was all too happy to turn her back on the press and dismiss them so blatantly.

As the massive, gold-embossed doors of the House of Virtues swung open, they were met not with the biting cold of the Atlas night, but with a wall of perfumed warmth and the complex, overlapping melodies of a live string orchestra.

The transition was jarring, as one moment they were symbols of a desperate war under a frozen sky, and the next, they were immersed in a sensory overload of wealth so concentrated it felt like it had its own gravity.

The Event Hall was an architectural marvel of white marble and gravity-defying architecture. Great pillars of translucent quartz pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light, supporting a vaulted ceiling that had been inlaid with enough gems to reflect the Remnant sky in the clearest of nights, with shimmering stars of quartz and amethyst pressed into polished black marble.

Below this celestial display, the room was a sea of shimmering silks, sharp military dress uniforms, and the glint of family crests pinned to lapels that cost more than a Mantle tenement.

Ruby’s grip on Weiss’s arm tightened instinctively as they crossed the threshold. The sheer scale of the opulence was intimidating, but it was the weight of the collective gaze that truly made her stomach churn.

As they moved further into the hall, the conversations nearest to them didn’t stop, but they audibly shifted in pitch, becoming a low, vibrating hum of whispers. To the elite of Atlas, Team RWBY wasn't just another team of Huntresses that operated with Atlas support and licenses, they were a political variable that had just stepped onto the board.

"Eyes up, Ruby," Weiss murmured, her voice a calm bedrock in the rising sea of noise. She didn't look at her partner, keeping her chin at a perfectly level angle, but she leaned into Ruby’s side just enough to provide warmth and reassurance. "You may be the leader of a Huntsmen team, but these people have spent their lives learning how to look down on others. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you blink."

"I'm not blinking." Ruby whispered back, her silver eyes scanning the room with a hunter’s precision disguised as social curiosity. "I'm just…memorising all the hiding places. There are a lot of conveniently wide pillars."

Weiss let out a soft, breathy laugh that was lost to the orchestra. "I know every dark corner and blind spot this place has, I assure you."

Behind them, Yang and Blake were navigating the crowd with a very different energy.

Yang moved like a wildfire contained within skin; bright, dangerous, and utterly captivating as she made no effort to soften her gait or hide her bulk and silhouette as she adjusted her posture.

Beside her, Blake was a study in controlled shadow, the layered gossamer of her dress seeming to drink in the light, making her appear more like a spectral presence than a guest, and she moved with a lethal grace that made the socialites in their stiff gowns look clumsy by comparison.

"Look at them." Blake said, her voice a low purr directed at Yang’s ear. She gestured subtly toward a group of men in high-collared suits who were staring a bit too long at Yang for Blake’s liking, and for a moment her incisors felt like fangs. "They can't decide if they want to thank us or study us under a microscope."

Yang shot the men a grin that was all sharp teeth and terrifyingly empty eyes, causing them to hurriedly return to their drinks. "Let 'em stare. If they look too long, they might actually see the dirt under our fingernails. It’d be good for them. Remind them where we actually come from."

The team moved toward the center of the hall, where a massive ice sculpture of the Beacon Tower stood, melting slowly into a pool of chilled champagne. It was a beautiful, macabre tribute, and as Ruby looked at it, she felt a flash of genuine anger, something so rare for her that she blinked at the heat of it in her chest.

To these people, the Fall of Beacon was a theme for a gala. To her, it was the night the world as she’d hoped it was had ended.

"Don't let it get to you." Weiss said, sensing the shift in Ruby’s mood. Her hand tightened on Ruby’s arm. "They use tragedy to justify their status. It’s how the system maintains its 'virtue.' We’re here to be the reminder that the tragedy was real, and that we don't belong to their narrative."

As they reached the edge of the main floor, a man in a pristine white suit, his chest draped in more medals than the General, stepped into their path. He held a glass of sparkling cider and offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes, the practiced, oily grin of a mid-level candidate looking for a photo op.

"Ah, the heroes of the hour! We’ve all heard so much about you four." the man exclaimed, his voice booming just loud enough to draw the attention of a nearby hovering camera drone. "Councilman-candidate Thorne. It is an absolute privilege to welcome such valiant young women to our hall. Your service to the Kingdoms is-"

He stopped abruptly as Ruby simply blinked at him, her expression one of polite, vacant curiosity. She didn't extend a hand, and she didn't offer a name, she just looked at him as if he were a particularly uninteresting piece of furniture.

Beside her, Weiss’s mask of porcelain perfection remained utterly unmoved.

"The catering is excellent, Thorne." Weiss said, her voice cool and clinical. She didn't acknowledge his candidacy or his praise. "I believe the shrimp puffs are being served near the west terrace. You wouldn't want to miss them."

The man’s smile faltered, his face turning a mottled shade of red as he realized he was being dismissed as if he were a waiter. He opened his mouth to retort, but Yang stepped up, towering over him with a cheerful, terrifying energy. She clapped a hand onto his shoulder - very deliberately her heavy, painfully solid mechanical one - and the audible 'thud' of the metal against his expensive suit made him flinch.

"Thanks for the welcome, buddy!" Yang chirped, her grin blinding. "We're actually on a strict 'no-talking-to-campaigns' diet tonight. It’s very slimming."

Thorne sputtered, retreating into the crowd as the camera drone whirred away, seeking more cooperative subjects. The team shared a collective, silent breath of relief, their 'unified front' holding firm.

"One down," Blake growled quietly even as her face remained perfectly composed, her eyes tracking the retreating politician. "Only a few dozen more to go."

"We move to the balcony." Weiss commanded softly. "It offers the best vantage point and the least amount of cornering potential. If we stay in the center, we're targets. If we move, we're observers."

They began a slow, deliberate circuit of the room, and every step was a choreographed dance of avoidance. When a group of SDC executives tried to catch Weiss’s eye, she was suddenly deeply engaged in a whispered conversation with Ruby. When a group of military officers approached Yang, she was busy adjusting Blake’s necklace with a focus that bordered on the obsessive.

The only people they spoke to were the other Beacon students that were present, some of which the four of them hadn’t seen since the Fall. Plenty of them had retired from Huntsmen work, utterly deterred by the trauma of Beacon’s loss, and Ruby honestly couldn’t hold it against them.

Plenty of them had scars, and almost all had a dark shadow in their eyes that all four members of Team RWBY knew occasionally appeared in their own after their defeats.

The only other Beacon veterans that had any awareness of the stakes were Team JNPR, but they were all handling it in their own way. Namely, by arriving, saying hi to only the people they cared about, Nora eating as much as she could, and then leaving as swiftly as they’d swept in.

Even if they should have stayed longer, for the sake of the political game, the sheer disgust that had radiated off of Ren and Nora for a week, and the rage burning inside Jaune, were enough that RWBY had been more than willing to let them off the hook.

Trying to convince them to stick around as the rich and powerful made a press opportunity out of the worst night of JNPR’s lives, would have been cruelty second only to inviting them in the first place.

As they slowly moved through all the conversations that were necessary, migrating towards the glass doors leading out to a simple balcony, Ruby found herself watching Weiss more than the crowd.

In this element, Weiss was a predator in her natural habitat, sensing social traps before they were even sprung. She knew which paths through the crowd would lead to dead ends and which would allow for a graceful exit.

But more than that, Ruby noticed the way Weiss’s hand never truly left hers. It wasn't just for the cameras anymore, it was for the two of them. In fact, Ruby had gotten the impression that Wess wasn’t even noticing the way her fingers had found Ruby’s sculpted bicep and were resting there in a way that Ruby was really, really trying not to find distracting.

As they stepped out onto a balcony that was being kept warm by a nearby lamp of rippling red Dust, the noise of the gala softened into a manageable roar, and from here the opulence felt more distant, more like a stage play they were reviewing rather than participating in.

After Blake closed the doors with a soft click, a solid barrier between them and the chaos, Ruby leaned her free hand on the cold marble railing, looking down at the swirling colours of the people gathered in the open-air pavilions and gardens below.

"You were right, Weiss." Ruby said, her voice finally losing its nervous edge. "This is a performance. It’s like they're all wearing masks, even without the actual masks."

Weiss stood beside her, her blue gown shimmering in the indigo light through the glass behind them as she looked out over the gardens, her expression unreadable. "In Atlas, the mask is the person, Ruby. We spend so much time perfecting the image that we forget there was ever anything beneath it."

Yang and Blake joined them, Yang leaning back against the railing with a glass of something in her hand, while Blake remained half-hidden in the shadows of a nearby pillar as she sipped from her own glass.

"I think we've officially confused the hell out of the press." Yang said, taking a sip and grinning. "The headlines tomorrow are going to be great. 'Team RWBY: Heroes or Haughty?."

"As long as they don't say we're endorsing Sleet." Blake remarked with bite, her ears flicking as she listened to a group of socialites gossiping below. "They're already starting to speculate. You were right, Weiss."

"I usually am, when the three of you deign to listen to me." Weiss replied, and she turned back to Ruby, her eyes softening as she took in the crimson velvet and the silver roses. "But for tonight, the only part of it all that matters is that we’re here."

Ruby smiled, a genuine, mischievous grin that finally reached her eyes, and she gave Weiss’s arm a squeeze, with Weiss blinking and looking down, proving that she clearly had forgotten the grip.

But she didn’t pull away.

"So," Ruby said, meeting Weiss’s eyes with a smirk. "Operation: Politically Neutral is a success?"

Weiss adjusted her tiara one last time, the cold mask of the Ice Queen slipping just enough to show a flash of approval and amusement. "So far a resounding one."

As the two of them looked at each other, the smiles lingering on their faces even as their gazes softened, Yang watched the look, her eyes darting between them with that distinct glint of mischief that defined her.

“Well would you look at that,” Yang announced loudly, and quickly drained the rest of her glass in the one large mouthful. “I appear to be empty. I’m going to head back in and get a refill. I thought I saw two members of Team BLUU as well. Might go say hi.”

“I’m in need of a refill as well, actually.” Blake added with her own glass suddenly empty as well somehow, her fingers lightly brushing Yang’s arm as she turned away.

Before Ruby or Weiss even had time to reply, the two of them slipped back through the doors, the glass muffling the orchestra as they disappeared into the crowd, leaving Ruby and Weiss in a sudden, quiet isolation.

As the glass doors swung closed, the ambient roar of the gala - the clinking of crystal, the vapid laughter, the drone of political posturing - seemed to drop away.

Ruby shifted, the heavy velvet of her skirt rustling against the cold marble of the railing, and she turned her head slowly, only to find Weiss already watching her.

Weiss’s posture, which had been a fortress of rigidity all night, had softened. The sharp, imperious line of her shoulders was gone, and her blue eyes, usually guarded and calculating, were unmoored, scanning Ruby’s face with a soft depth that made Ruby’s own breath waver. 

The silence stretched, longer than a mere pause, until the air felt heavy enough to touch.

“You're don’t have to do it.” Weiss finally murmured, her voice barely rising above the song of the soft breeze across the balcony. 

“Do what?” Ruby asked, her own voice quiet, matching Weiss’s volume without conscious decision.

“The...the posture.” Weiss clarified, gesturing vaguely with a gloved hand toward Ruby’s shoulders. “You’ve been holding it all night. It’s what you do when you’re worried about someone taking a shot at the people you care about.”

She took a small, hesitant step closer, the scent of expensive perfume - crisp, winter-floral - drifting across the space between them. “You can let it go, Ruby. We’re alone. We’re safe.”

Ruby felt the tension drain from her spine, though the unique hum of being alone with Weiss replaced it with a different, sharper alertness. She leaned back against the railing, her hands losing their iron grip on the cold stone. “I guess I just...keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s Atlas, Weiss. I’m a small-town girl.”

Weiss let out a short, startled laugh, the sound bright and unpracticed compared to the polished socialite persona she’d worn all evening, and Ruby’s heart was briefly in her throat.

“Fair point. These people are a particular, persistent kind of pest.” She mirrored Ruby’s movement, leaning her own back against the railing, and for the first time, she allowed herself to look genuinely tired. “But you were remarkable in there. You always are. You’re a natural at so much.”

Ruby felt the flush return to her cheeks, deeper and hotter than before. “I’m just following your lead..”

“You aren't…” Weiss said, her voice dropping, and she turned her body fully toward Ruby, abandoning the view of the gala and the gardens entirely. “You never were. You’ve never needed to. I assure you, Ruby, it’s quite the other way around.”

Ruby’s breath stopped at the sheer intensity of the statement, her silver eyes widening as she looked into Weiss’s agonizingly sincere gaze. For a second, the only sound was the distant, muffled rhythm of the strings from inside, but out here, in the indigo shadows of the balcony, the world felt incredibly small. 

“That’s… that’s literally impossible.” Ruby stammered, her hands flying up to adjust the silver roses on her stole, a nervous twitch that she couldn’t quite suppress. “Weiss, you’re the one who speaks four languages, fights like a professional, and somehow manages to run our logistics while looking like you just stepped out of…out of a fashion magazine! I’m just the girl who hits things with a scythe and eats too many cookies.”

Weiss huffed, a sharp, indignant sound that was far more ‘Weiss’ than ‘Ice Queen’, and she crossed her arms, her blue gown shimmering with the movement, and stepped even closer, invading Ruby’s personal space with a stubborn set to her jaw. “Being a ‘professional’ is a matter of practice and tutors, Ruby. It’s clinical. What you have…it’s instinct. You didn’t have a decade of etiquette coaches, yet in only a few months you’ve managed to command the respect of the Atlesian military elite by doing absolutely nothing but being yourself.”

“Because they’re scared of you!” Ruby countered with a frantic giggle, her face heating up. “I’m just the one standing next to the most impressive woman in Atlas. You’re the one with the steely gaze and the perfect posture. I’m just trying not to trip over my own boots.”

“You haven’t tripped once.” Weiss snapped back, though the edge in her voice was softened by a fond, flickering light in her eyes. “And you aren't ‘just’ anything. You think I’m impressive? Ruby, I spent half my life trying to be what my father wanted. You’ve spent yours being exactly who you are, and the world changed because of it. That is infinitely more impressive than whatever I’ve been taught to do.”

The playful bickering slowed, the volume of their voices dropping as the ‘argument’ began to lose its defensive edge. Ruby looked down at her polished boots, then back up at Weiss, her gaze lingering on the way the red lamp cast a warm, flickering glow across the curves of Weiss’s face.

“Weiss…” Ruby started, her voice a soft, thready whisper. She reached out, her fingers hesitating before she lightly brushed the silk of Weiss’s sleeve. “You don’t see it, do you? How much you’ve done? And not just for the world, but for me. And…and for yourself, most importantly of all..”

Weiss’s breath hitched, and she didn’t pull away. Instead her gaze stayed locked on Ruby’s silver eyes, searching them with a desperate, quiet curiosity. The biting Atlas wind swirled around them, but in the small space between them, the air was heavy, still, and impossibly warm.

“You say things like that to me like they’re so simple, and so easy.” Weiss breathed, her voice a fragile melody that seemed to vibrate in the very center of Ruby’s soul.

Ruby felt the air leave her lungs, and it wasn't just the biting cold of the Atlas night, it was the way Weiss was looking at her.

That look - unguarded, vulnerable, and terrifyingly intense - was one Ruby usually only saw in the quiet moments they could steal, the ones without even Blake and Yang around, and never in the shadow of a public space where eyes could be anywhere.

Weiss took another step, closing the scant foot of space between them. It was subtle, the way she moved, but deliberate. It felt like a shift in gravity. Ruby pressed her palms against the cool, unforgiving marble of the balcony railing, her heart doing a frantic, uneven rhythm against the structure of her corset.

Every inch Weiss gained felt like a tightening of a vise, yet not a painful one, more like the pressure of a rising tide.

“It isn't simple,” Ruby managed to whisper, though the words felt clumsy and thick on her tongue. “Not for me. It’s… it’s terrifying. You’re terrifying. In….in a w-way.”

She saw Weiss’s eyes darken, a flick of something - Fear? Hope? - passing through them, and soon she was close enough that Ruby could smell the faint, clean scent of frost and lily that always clung to her partner’s clothes.

It made Ruby’s head spin and her fingers dig into the marble railing, and she felt the sudden, irrational urge to bolt, to find some excuse to rush back inside, to hide behind the safety of the crowd, but her feet were rooted. The anxiety was a physical thing, a flutter in her stomach that rose up to catch in her throat.

What if she sees my hands shaking? What if I say something stupid? Does she know that just by looking at me, standing next to me, she’s unraveling me again and again and again?

Weiss didn’t seem to notice the internal crisis. She only kept moving, her gaze never wavering, forcing Ruby to focus on nothing but the pale, porcelain skin of her face and the faint, almost imperceptible tremor in Weiss’s own posture.

Slowly, almost of her own volition, Ruby’s hand rose. It felt leaden, heavy with the weight of the moment, and she hesitated for a heartbeat. Weiss paused, her eyes widening slightly, watching the movement with a fragile curiosity that was so close to hopeful but mostly surprise.

Ruby’s fingers reached up, trembling just a fraction, and tucked a stray lock of soft, white hair behind Weiss’s ear. It was a small, reassuring gesture, one they had shared a dozen times before in private as Weiss had slowly grown used to touch and easy affection, but here, under the watchful gaze of the Atlas stars, it felt like a declaration.

As her fingers brushed the sensitive skin behind Weiss’s ear, Ruby felt it; a sharp, sudden shiver that raced through the skin ever so gently touched by her fingertips.

Weiss was trembling. Because of her.

The realization made Ruby’s head spin. She wasn't the only one out of her depth; Weiss was right there with her, balanced on the same precipice. The thought gave Ruby the courage to let her hand linger, her thumb brushing softly against Weiss’s temple, feeling the rapid, tell-tale pulse beneath the skin.

“I’m terrifying…? In a way?” Weiss prodded with a soft breathiness to her voice that washed over Ruby’s skin.

Ruby swallowed hard, the silence on the balcony heavy and broken only by the distant, muffled music of the orchestra and the low, constant hum of Atlas itself. The way Weiss was looking at her, with that unguarded, raw intensity, made it feel like they were the only two people in the entire frozen kingdom.

But being alone with Weiss was something Ruby craved for many hours out of the day, so it didn’t scare her in the slightest. Not ever.

“You… you just…” Ruby stammered, her voice catching as she struggled to find the words while her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She let her hand drop from Weiss’s temple, though it hovered near her shoulder, as if she were afraid to let go completely. “You’re just so… brilliant. All the time. You walk into a room and you just… command it. It’s like you’re this perfect, unshakeable force, and I’m just… me. Scythe-wielding, cookie-eating, totally-out-of-her-depth…me.”

She looked down, biting her lip, the silver roses across her outfit catching the flickering red light of the nearby heater lamp, and the pale of her features washed in pale colours coming through the glass and up from the garden below. “But then you look at me like… like I’m the one who knows what she’s doing. Like I’m the leader. And I am, I guess, but… sometimes, Weiss, I feel like I’m just making it up as I go. Like I’m one bad decision away from everything falling apart.”

She looked back up, her eyes wide, vulnerable, and searchingly bright as she met Weiss’s gaze again. “And then you’re there. You’re always, always there. And you’re so composed, and you’re so smart, and you have this…this way of looking at the world that makes everything seem… manageable. And it’s just… it’s terrifying because I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you can be so strong, and I worry that one day you’re going to look at me and realize that I’m not… that I’m not who you think I am.”

Weiss didn’t pull away, nor did she break eye contact. Instead, she let out a shaky, quiet breath, her posture softening even further until she seemed smaller, more fragile against the backdrop of the towering, cold marble.

“You think I’m strong?” Weiss asked, her voice a fragile, trembling whisper. She reached out, her own hand hesitant before it came to rest over the place where Ruby’s heart beat frantically beneath the corset. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but the heat of it seared through the layers of velvet and lace, and one of Ruby’s legs gave out for the briefest moment. “Ruby, you’re the reason I’m standing here. You are the reason I learned to stop just doing what I was told and started listening to what I believed. Every time I feel like the weight of every expectation is going to crush me, I think of you.”

Weiss leaned in just a fraction more, the scent of her winter-floral perfume enveloping Ruby, grounding her. “You call it instinct. I call it the most honest thing I’ve ever seen. You don’t need to be ‘brilliant’ in the way the regular world wants. You just need to be… you. And that is more than enough. It’s…it’s everything.”

Ruby’s breath hitched, a small, choked sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Weiss repeated, her eyes searching Ruby’s face with a desperation that mirrored her own. She shifted, her blue gown rustling against the cold stone, and moved just close enough that the space between them was non-existent. “And if you’re terrified of me, then you should know… I have spent every single day since I met you absolutely, unequivocally overwhelmed by you, too.”

“By me?” Ruby whispered, the question hanging in the air, light and fragile.

“By how determined you are to never give up on me. How readily you reached out to me again and again, even though I started off…difficult. You didn’t just trust me, you made me feel like…like I could be worthy of it. Worthy of your trust in particular.” Weiss admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile touching her lips, though her eyes remained painfully sincere. “I’m terrified of how you make me feel. And… terrified that I might actually be worth the faith you put in me.”

Ruby felt a wave of warmth wash over her, chasing away the biting chill of the night. Her eyes roamed over Weiss’s face, the high, elegant line of her cheekbones, seeing the warmth of her soul beneath the porcelain complexion.

“Weiss…” Ruby said, her voice finally steady, clear, and filled with a quiet, fierce certainty that seemed to cut through the noise of the world below them. “There isn’t a version of this, or of us, where you aren’t worth everything.”

Weiss let out a soft, wet laugh, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she leaned into Ruby’s touch. “You’re unbelievable.”

“If you and just you believe in me, then I can do anything.” Ruby murmured, a shy, crooked grin finally breaking through the tension, and she tilted her head, her gaze drifting down to Weiss’s lips before returning to her eyes.

The silence returned, but this time, it wasn't heavy or oppressive. It was theirs, a fragile, shared secret held between them on a balcony high above a city that had no idea who they were, and how much they had changed each other from the moment they met.

Ruby’s hand trembled slightly, a soft, deliberate movement as she reached up. Her palm, flushed with the heat of the moment, pressed against the cool, porcelain expanse of Weiss’s cheek.

The contrast was stark, a smear of crimson velvet against the blue-tinged, winter-pale skin of the heiress, and despite the staggering intimacy of the touch, Weiss didn't recoil or even stiffen.

Instead, she let out a long, shaky exhale, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into the touch, her own hands instinctively finding purchase on Ruby’s waist. Her fingers, delicate yet firm, splayed out over the structured satin of the corset, feeling the rapid, thrumming beat of Ruby’s heart beneath the rigid boning.

“I… I don’t think I ever said it.” Ruby whispered, the words barely audible, carried away by the wind before they could reach anyone but Weiss. Her thumb stroked the soft skin of Weiss's jawline, a gentle, reverent motion that felt like worship. “Back then. In the Emerald Forest. When you… when you accepted me. As your partner.”

Her silver eyes shimmered, reflecting the distant, cold stars above Atlas, wide and unguarded. “Thank you for seeing something in me worth choosing, Weiss. Even when I was just… just a mess of hyperactive optimism and red fabric, you didn’t walk away.”

Weiss’s hands tightened on Ruby’s waist, pulling her just a hair’s breadth closer, until the rigid, elegant lines of their formal wear blurred into a single silhouette. When she opened her eyes, they were glossed with a fierce, crystalline clarity.

“You were never a mess, Ruby.” Weiss murmured back, her voice thick with an emotion she had spent years trying to suppress in public, but here, in the shadows, she let it bleed through without apology. “You were the only thing that made sense in a world that was trying to tell me who I was supposed to be.”

Her hands shifted, tracing the line of Ruby’s back before settling firmly, grounding them both against the biting cold of the Atlas night.

“Thank you…thank you for letting me fight for you. Not just then. Not just at Beacon. Not just at Haven. And not just in Argus.” She took a shuddering breath, her gaze dropping for a fleeting second to Ruby’s lips before returning to her eyes, her expression settling into a promise that felt as permanent as stone. “But for letting me fight for you every single day since. And for all the years to come. I will be by your side, Ruby Rose, for as long as you will have me.”

The weight of those words hung between them, heavier than the cold marble beneath their feet, more solid than the sprawling, indifferent city that surrounded them. In the quiet of the balcony, the politics and expectations on the other side of the glass doors felt like a lifetime away, a stage play they had forgotten to watch.

Salem didn’t exist. The maidens could wait. The relics were just trinkets. Who cares?

Ruby’s fingers on Weiss’s jaw firmed slightly in her pressure, and her thumb brushed impossibly lightly less than an inch away from her bottom lip, applying just enough accidental pressure that Weiss’s lips parted with her next breath.

“If I could have a dream life, I'd have you with me forever.” Ruby's voice was barely a whisper, a candid, devastating confession that hung in the cold air between them like a prayer.

Weiss felt the words land against her soul, sudden and staggering, and she trembled, a violent, uncontrollable shiver that raced from the tips of her fingers down to her toes, her knees knocking together for the briefest, most vulnerable second against Ruby's.

The accidental claim of the words - of being wanted, not just needed or trusted, but wanted - hit her with an intensity that rendered her speechless, leaving her shuddering in the cold air, her hands clutching at Ruby’s waist as if to hold herself to the earth.

For a long, agonizing moment, Weiss could only breathe, each taste of the air a sharp, crystalline stutter against the warmth of Ruby’s palm.

The girl who had been raised to negotiate with titans and navigate the treacherous currents of a harsher, cynical world and fight found herself utterly adrift, her legendary eloquence failing her in the wake of such a simple, devastating thought.

 A ‘dream life.’

It was a concept so alien to the structured, duty-bound reality of a Schnee that it felt like a fairytale.

She looked at Ruby, and the inside of the hall was a fading echo, a shadow-play that had lost all substance. The only thing that was real was the weight of Ruby’s hand, the silver of her eyes, and the terrifying, beautiful gravity of being chosen.

“Ruby…” Weiss finally whispered, her voice cracking as the poise she’d maintained all night, perhaps all of her life, shattered. She didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to retreat into the safety of the’ mask. Instead, she leaned forward until her forehead rested against Ruby’s, their breaths mingling in a shared, frantic rhythm. “I don’t… I don’t even know how to imagine a future that doesn't have you in it. I don’t think I’ve been able to for a long time.”

She reached up, her gloved fingers trembling as she covered Ruby’s hand on her cheek, pressing it closer as if she could absorb the heat of the confession into her very bones. The winter-floral scent of her perfume seemed to intensify, mixing with the faint, metallic tang of the Atlas wind and the soft, earthy scent of Ruby’s red velvet.

It was a moment born of a thousand shared battles and a million unspoken glances, a connection that had outgrown the labels of teammates or partners until it was the only thing that felt permanent.

“You say it like it’s a dream,” Weiss continued, her eyes searching Ruby’s with a raw, pained vulnerability that was more intimate than any touch. “But among the many things you’ve helped me realise, is that maybe…maybe we should trust dreams.”

Ruby choked, a sound caught between the frost-laden air and the heat radiating from Weiss’s skin, and she leaned in, her forehead still pressed against Weiss’s, close enough that she could see the way the red light of the heater lamp danced in the specks of silver in those blue eyes.

“I haven’t had many nice dreams, the past couple of years.” Ruby murmured, her voice thick with a sudden, fierce protectiveness. Her fingers curled slightly against Weiss’s cheek, revelling in the soft, smooth skin that gave under her touch.

Ruby took a shuddering breath, her silver eyes searching every inch of Weiss’s face as if trying to memorize the exact shade of vulnerability etched there.  “But…I’m really liking this one. I hope I don’t wake up from it yet.”

Weiss’s eyes fluttered, a single tear escaping to track a path over Ruby’s thumb, and she let out a broken sound. Her hands, still clutching Ruby’s waist, pulled her in until there was no air left between them, the heavy crimson velvet of Ruby’s skirt tangling with the shimmering blue silk of Weiss’s gown.

They stood, two pillars of resilience forged in fire and frost, impossibly close. The only space between them was fabric and breath, and even that was vanishing.

It was the final inevitable tug of a gravity built of a thousand glances shared across campfires, the silent promises made in the heat of battle, and the quiet beginnings they had built within the walls of their dorm.

It was blood, steel, promises, and always coming back to each other.

Weiss’s hands, still anchored to Ruby’s waist, tightened with a final, desperate tremor, while Ruby’s palm cupped Weiss’s cheek with a reverence that made the world around them cease to exist.

When their lips finally met, it was a soft, tentative brush of silk against velvet, a question asked in the indigo shadows. But the hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before it deepened into something profound and all-encompassing.

It was a kiss that tasted of frost and summer roses, of every tear they had wiped away for each other and every laugh that had kept the darkness at bay. It was the weight of a thousand burdens and defeats being lifted, the exhaustion of their long journey finding a place to rest.

Ruby’s eyes fluttered shut, her entire being focusing on the warmth of Weiss’s breath and the staggering, gentle pressure of the heiress’s lips. Weiss leaned into it, her poise completely abandoned as she sighed into the contact, a sound of absolute surrender that vibrated through Ruby’s very soul.

There was only the heat of Weiss’s skin, the scent of winter-floral perfume, and what had begun as a tentative question of silk against velvet transformed into a tidal wave, a sudden and violent collapse of the walls they had both built to survive the long roads and the longer nights.

It was a release of pressure so immense it felt as though the very air around them had been superheated, the biting chill of the Atlesian sky rendered powerless against the furnace of their proximity.

Ruby’s hands, previously trembling with a permanent uncertainty, found a new, desperate confidence, and her fingers tangled into the intricate, silver-white braid at the nape of Weiss’s neck, the silky strands a sharp contrast to the rough callouses of her hands. She pulled Weiss closer, her body leaning into the cool blue silk of the gown.

Every suppressed thought, every redirected glance from the classrooms of Beacon, the campfires of Anima, and the halls of Atlas, surged forward. Weiss responded in kind, her hands moving from Ruby’s waist to her shoulders, then running up and into the black and crimson strands of her hair.

The kiss deepened, a chaotic archive of their history, and Weiss felt a dizzying expansion in her chest, a lightness that terrified her. For a woman who had been defined by rigid boundaries, this was the ultimate rebellion - a total surrender to an instinct that was pure, honest, and entirely her own. She could taste the warm sweetness of Ruby’s lips and breath mixed with the sharpness of the winter air, and it was the most intoxicating thing she had ever experienced.

Then, in a moment of sudden, blinding daring that bypassed her internal censors entirely, Weiss allowed her curiosity to take its most primal form. Her lips parted further, and she tentatively, then decisively, probed the seam of Ruby’s bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.

It was a step across a threshold she hadn't even realized was there, and the sensation of it - the warmth, the velvet softness, the absolute reality of Ruby Rose - sent a jolt of electric shock through Weiss’s entire system.

The shock was so sudden and so sharp that Weiss recoiled, her breath hitching in a sharp, audible gasp. She pulled back just inches, her hands remaining on Ruby’s shoulders but her fingers trembling, and her eyes flew open, wide and startled, the blue of them reflecting the indigo twilight and the flickering red of the heater lamp.

She stared into Ruby’s stunned, silver gaze, her own heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against her ribs, and the silence that followed was torture, a vacuum created by her own audacity.

Weiss felt a flare of panic. Had she gone too far? Had she broken the fragile, beautiful dream? Would Ruby wake up?

But Ruby didn’t look offended or disgusted, she looked electrified. Her lips were slightly parted, her silver eyes shimmering with a depth of longing that made Weiss’s knees buckle.

For a breathless, suspended moment, they simply hovered in each other’s space, the heaving of their breaths still vibrating in the air. It didn’t last.

They crashed back into each other with a renewed, ferocious energy. This time, there was no tentative questioning. It was a claim as Ruby met Weiss’s boldness with her own, her mouth opening against hers with a raw, unshielded passion that sought to consume the distance between them.

The kiss became deeper, more intrusive, and infinitely more certain. They moved together with the same lethal synchronization they used on the battlefield, their bodies finding an effortless, instinctive harmony that would tolerate no discipline or composure.

Between the desperate, hungry intensity of their kiss, Weiss pulled back just enough to press her lips to Ruby's jaw, her voice a breathless, melodic mantra.

"Thank you," she whispered, her lips ghosting against Ruby's skin. She pulled back and kissed her again, brief and sweet.

A constant, fervent stream of gratitude spilled from her, each ‘thank you’ punctuated by another soft, lingering kiss. As sweet as the gesture was, Ruby let out a low, frustrated huff, her hands sliding down to Weiss’s waist to pull her flush against her, refusing to let the distance grow.

"Less talking," Ruby murmured against Weiss's lips, her voice thick and demanding, the raw edge of her impatience cutting through the gentle vulnerability of the moment, "more kissing."

The demand, so uncharacteristic and so earnest, had Weiss let out a bright, pure laugh that seemed to shimmer in the quiet, indigo air, a sound of genuine, unguarded joy that Ruby rarely got to see, let alone trigger.

Relenting, she wrapped her arms securely around Ruby's neck, pulling her in so close there wasn't a breath of space left between them, and leaned in to kiss her again, the contact deep, searching, and completely consuming.

The world outside the balcony seemed to stretch on forever, a sprawling, glittering tapestry of cold metal and white marble, yet none of it held a candle to the warmth that had bloomed in the space between them.

For the first time in two years, the weight of their mission, the fear of the future, and the relentless pressure to be something more than human felt… quiet. It was as if the constant static of their lives had been dialed down to a comfortable hum, leaving only the reality of their shared existence.

Weiss pulled back just enough to look at Ruby, her blue eyes searching, wide and unguarded. She adjusted her grip, her fingers tracing the edge of Ruby’s satin corset, a gesture that was both possessive and reverent.

“I’ve spent so long being utterly impenetrable. And deliberately unattainable.” she murmured, her voice steadying but still rich with emotion. “But you just won’t leave me alone, will you?”

Ruby let out a shaky, breathless laugh, her silver eyes crinkling at the corners. She reached out, tucking a loose strand of white hair behind Weiss’s ear, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were afraid the moment might shatter if she moved too quickly.

“Not ever.” Ruby whispered. “I’m going to annoy you forever.”

Weiss smiled, a genuine, radiant expression that lit up the indigo shadows of the balcony. “Good. I can’t wait.”

They stood in the quiet for a few moments longer, the chill of the Atlas air doing nothing to dampen the warmth of skin, breath, and the press of lips.

But alas, the gala continued on the other side of the glass, a chaotic whirlwind of ambition and performance, and their absence would have been more than just noticed by now. It would be conspicuous.

So, regretfully but dutifully, Weiss stepped back, releasing her grip on Ruby’s waist, though she kept her hand resting warmly against her arm. She smoothed the front of her dress, her composure returning like a slow-rising tide, though the warmth still lingered in her gaze.

“We should return.” she said, her voice soft but firm. “But…perhaps we can find a moment later to walk through the garden. I think a bit of fresh air would do us both good, and there’s a spot I’d love to show you.”

Ruby grinned, the familiar, mischievous sparkle returning to her silver eyes.

“Suddenly, the stuff inside feels utterly defeatable.” she said, offering her arm once more, her movements fluid and sure. “Is it a private spot?”

Slapping Ruby’s arm with a scoff, Weiss didn’t confirm nor deny it as she and Ruby made their way back inside, and began to head back down the stairs to the ground floor and main hall of the gala, where the crowds were thickest and the sharks were swarming.

The main hall was a kaleidoscope of movement and noise, a sharp contrast to the quiet they had just left behind, and Ruby, her arm still linked through Weiss’s, did her best to project an air of calm, though her heart was still fluttering a frantic, joyful rhythm against her ribs.

Weiss, meanwhile, had regained her composure with a terrifying efficiency, though there was a lingering, soft flush on her cheeks that refused to fade completely.

Before they could even take a dozen steps into the swirling sea of socialites, a familiar, teasing shadow detached itself from the wall of a nearby pillar as Blake and Yang emerged from the throng with an uncanny timing, both of them radiating a smug, self-satisfied aura that immediately set Ruby’s teeth on edge.

Yang looked particularly pleased with herself, her eyes dancing, while Blake wore a look of knowing amusement that made Weiss instantly stiffen.

“Well, well.” Yang drawled, her grin stretching wide enough to be dangerous. “Look who finally decided to rejoin civilization. We were starting to wonder if you’d decided to just elope.”

Ruby opened her mouth to spout something defensive, something about fresh air and the overwhelming noise, but before she could utter a syllable, Blake leaned in, her gaze dropping to Weiss with laser-like precision. She didn't say a word, just raised a single, arched eyebrow, and let her eyes travel from Ruby’s slightly flushed face to Weiss’s own.

“Before you risk more time being all haughty and trying denial, Weiss,” Blake murmured, her voice laced with dry, impeccable mischief. “You should know that your makeup is… quite significantly ruined.”

The effect was instantaneous as Weiss’s hands flew to her face, a frantic, mortified gasp escaping her. Her entire expression crumbled into a brilliant, vivid red that started at her collarbone and raced all the way to the tips of her ears.

Without a single word of rebuttal or dignity, she spun on her heel, her skirts swirling around her as she abandoned any pretense of social grace and bolted toward the nearest restroom, leaving a trail of startled socialites in her wake.

Blake didn’t miss a beat, letting out a sharp, genuine cackle of delight before striding after her, clearly intending to offer ‘assistance’ that would undoubtedly involve relentless teasing.

Left standing amidst the opulence of the gala, Ruby blinked, completely dumbfounded, before meeting Yang’s gleeful, sisterly grin. Yang nudged her, a familiar, bruising bump of her shoulder against Ruby’s. “So, didn’t need my tricks and tips after all. Planting a kiss on a princess at a ball…mum would love this.”

Ruby let out a long, shaky sigh, burying her face in her hands, her cheeks burning just as hot as Weiss’s. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Probably not.” Yang laughed, pulling Ruby toward a less populated corner of the hall. “But hey, totally worth it.”

Ruby looked up, her silver eyes shimmering with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude, and she smiled, a small, genuine thing. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

After a few moments, the crowd parted just slightly, creating an unintentional path. Weiss and Blake emerged from the restroom area, their steps regaining that familiar, composed rhythm, though the tension of the gala's scrutiny seemed to have evaporated from them entirely. Weiss caught sight of Ruby almost instantly.

The embarrassment was gone, replaced by a private warmth that felt more natural than the porcelain perfection she’d worn all night, and she didn't bother to hide it; she made direct, unblinking eye contact with Ruby, a small, genuine smile blooming across her face, a smile that seemed to say everything that the crowded room couldn't.

Beside her, Blake looked utterly pleased, her steps light, a satisfied, knowing look on her face as she glanced from Weiss to Ruby, clearly enjoying the fallout of the evening.

Ruby didn't try to look away, and she didn't try to play it cool. She simply smiled back, the warmth in her chest expanding until it felt like she was glowing. She didn't look at Yang when she spoke, her voice soft and steady.

"It’s a dream come true."