Seeking Warmth - Part I
This winter in Vale,
most bitter and harsh.
The snowstorms, they howl;
The students, they march
Through the courtyards of
Beacon, academy famed
For hunters and huntresses
World-class and well-trained;
Through snow piled high
They all make their way
To beds ever cold.
But one girl that day
Had plans not to sleep
Alone in a bed
That's colder than steel.
Ruby Rose, Little Red,
She slips from her bunk
To prod Weiss from her rest
And ask her dear partner,
"May I lay by your chest?"
The heiress stirs in her blankets,
Cracks open an eye,
Sees Ruby stand huddled
With a shiver and sigh.
Red cloak wrapped tightly
'Round her subtle frame
Leaves Weiss not to wonder
If the cold is to blame.
Yet still, she must quip,
"You know warm air rises?"
So Ruby responds,
Always full of surprises:
"I don't think there's
Much warmth to be had.
If I slept here with you,
I'd be warm and so glad."
"Go back to bed, Ruby."
Weiss turns from her gaze.
But Ruby stands hopeful,
Her eyes in a haze.
"It's so cold," Ruby whispers,
Voice barely a rasp.
Weiss pulls back the blankets.
"Come here and be fast."
Ruby stands bewildered
At the inviting space.
"Come on, you dolt.
No one's taking your place."
With that, Ruby scrambles
Under the blankets with Weiss.
She says, "Thanks," and "So, umm…"
Having considered it twice.
"Go to sleep," Weiss advises.
And though Ruby is meek,
She sets an arm 'round her partner,
Her princess, Weiss Schnee.
Her heart thrills at the closeness,
At her daring attempt
To find some affection
From a girl whose contempt
Is clearer than her love.
But Weiss recoils at the touch;
"What are you doing, Ruby?
I've not invited as much."
"It's cold, and you're warm."
Ruby's cheeks are now flushed.
"I'm sorry," Weiss proffers,
Her tone all but hushed.
"I'm not accustomed
To another's embrace."
Ruby's eyes are aglow,
Desire plain on her face.
"May I?" She asks.
And conflict does stir
In the heiress's eyes.
They begin to blur.
"I'm sorry, Ruby.
Perhaps it's best you return
To your bed for the night."
Red's advances thus spurned,
"Oh," she replies.
It is all she can say.
She disentangles herself
From the bed where she lay.
"Sleep well, Weiss. I'm sorry."
Her voice is uncertain.
"Good night to you, Ruby."
Thus closes the curtain.
Author's Note:
Once upon another name,
Seeking Warmth was done in prose.
Renewed resolve now sees it bloom,
A ballad, a songbird, a lover's first white rose.