At the time I'm posting this, we've only just been given the teaser for volume 3, episode 4. So this was just a small fic I whipped up before the episode aired. A possibility of Weiss' and Winter's relationship.
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.
Sisters Of Snow
For nearly five years, Winter was an only child.
Growing up with the parents she was born to, even her youngest years were constructed around one goal – to have her grow strong enough to be able to fight.
They put her through basic training appropriate for a girl her age, content to discover that she was the fastest runner in her class, as well as the one who answered just about every question correctly.
For nearly five years, Winter only needed to worry about herself.
She didn't care for the other children in her classes. As far as she was concerned, they were enemies. Competition. She'd have to best them one day, so why not sooner rather than later?
But then one day, in the heart of her namesake season, she was given someone else to worry about.
After a hectic morning of rushing cars and high-strung voices, Winter was brought to the local hospital where she waited in the lobby with her father.
That was the first time she ever saw her baby sister.
Weiss was so small, so fragile and vulnerable, wrapped in the light blue blanket in their mother's arms, her round, plump cheeks pink as she cried softly.
Winter hadn't understood where she'd come from, but her mother had simply told her, "Winter, this is your little sister, Weiss."
And something blossomed within her chest in that moment. If the seed had been rooted within her since her own birth, it was Weiss' first breath that caused it to bloom.
She was so precious, so beautiful.
Winter needed to protect her.
She'd heard a lot of other newborns crying in the hospital that day, but even though Weiss was right in front of her, she seemed quieter.
Not to say she was meek; no child of Schnee could ever accept such a label.
But Winter was just overcome with the need to make her strong, to keep her safe.
When she was finally allowed to get near her baby sister, she touched her perfect little face, her downy white hair, and kissed her nose. She made an offhand comment to no one in particular as she gazed curiously at the sniffling bundle.
"She looks like a little snowflake."
And so that was what she called her, but only during their closest moments.
As Weiss learned how to crawl, and then how to talk, and eventually stand on her own two feet, Winter was there encouraging her all the way.
The first time Weiss crossed the living room carpet on her wobbly little legs and stumbled into Winter, she laughed and wrapped her arms around her baby sister.
But their father didn't like too much affection between them. He was sure to remind them – especially Winter – that despite their age, they had jobs to do.
They had to live up to his last name.
They had to be superior to all other children.
Winter was six years old now. She was doing her best to deal with her father's unrealistic expectations.
But she didn't like how he kept pushing little Weiss, who was barely able to walk.
And their mother never seemed to be around to defend her, so Winter felt it was her own responsibility to do it.
So whenever she thought her father was becoming overbearing, Winter would craftily divert his attention away from Weiss, either by posing a smart question, or even sometimes distracting him with her own feigned incompetence on some matter.
The latter option was usually used as a last resort, when the former wasn't effective. But Winter would rather have their father ridiculing her rather than her helpless sister.
Now that she had someone else to care for, Winter worked harder.
She tried to be there for Weiss as often as possible, always making sure to slip away from her lessons when she could to go see her.
Their mother was in poor health, and when Weiss was only three years old, she passed away.
Winter didn't see her father at all that night, and Weiss didn't stop crying.
But Winter shed no tears as she scooped her sister out of bed and held her close. She couldn't afford to be sad. She needed to be strong for Weiss.
All night, she cradled, and promised her "It's going to be alright, my little snowflake," until Weiss fell asleep.
. . .
After their mother's passing, Winter was made to work even harder.
The smallest blessing was that with their mother gone, their father had more work to do, and therefore spent less time hounding his daughters.
The maids took care of Weiss until she was able to dress and feed herself. But even then, Winter made sure she was around Weiss as much as possible.
She didn't want the maids to be the ones Weiss remembered. As far as Winter could tell, not a single one of those women actually cared for Weiss. All they cared for was the paycheck her father would be giving them at the end of the week.
Winter didn't want Weiss to have to experience false love.
Her own love for Weiss was genuine.
Weiss was hers. Winter was the only sibling she had, and Weiss was hers.
As Weiss grew older, Winter helped her train, taught her how to hold a prototype sword.
Their father's questionable business methods had turned Winter away from the family business at a young age. By the age of ten, she'd already chosen the path of the military.
Unfortunately, Schnee Dust needed an heir, and now that she'd gotten to choose her own path in life, Weiss was the only one left to take after their father.
Winter had always felt guilty about that, how her decision to utilize her own freedom of choice had consequently stolen away Weiss'. Her sister never got any other options. Weiss was to be heiress and that was that.
Even so, Winter wasn't going to abandon her. She refused to leave for the intense military training school until she was sure her sister could fend for herself, especially against their father.
. . .
It was the year after she'd begun her basic combat training, when Winter was eleven and Weiss was just leaving five for six.
In her training, Winter had been practicing her semblance control. That had been her main focus for the past several months.
Most children didn't start learning the use of aura and semblance until their younger teenaged years, but it was Winter's premature advanced intelligence that let her stand out, and made her a fine candidate for the military schools.
She'd trained long and hard, but not only for the sake of fighting. She'd been working on something else as well.
The morning was bright white when she woke.
Her room had always seemed so big, but now it was beginning to fit her.
It was early, and the weekend, so she knew her father wouldn't be up just yet to thwart her.
Today, she was going to give Weiss a special birthday present.
Winter pulled on some clothes, then tied her snow boots on. A layer of white had fallen last night and the night before that, coating the property in a beautiful, icy sheen.
Despite her training that demanded she conceal her emotions, she couldn't hide the excitement today. She scurried out of her room, down the hallway, and halted at Weiss' door. She knocked softly before pushing inside.
Weiss was just waking up, rubbing her eyes and clearly excited for her big day. As soon as she saw Winter, she smiled and opened her arms.
Being that they were alone, Winter allowed herself to smile too as she crossed the room and wrapped her sister in an embrace, smoothing out her frazzled white hair.
"Good morning, my little snowflake," she murmured. "Are you ready for your gift?"
Winter had been promising her something wonderful for days now. She thought that since the only thing their father ever gave Weiss on her birthday was a look, that her sister deserved an actual present for once in her life.
Weiss nodded quickly, squeezing her older sister back in excitement.
"Yes! I'm ready, Winter! Thank you!"
"Alright." Winter kissed the top of her head and let her go. "Then get your coat on. We're going outside."
Eagerly, Weiss hopped out of bed, and in her glee she failed to make it neat again. Winter took the liberty of tucking Weiss' blankets in and smoothed out the covers for her as her sister put on a warm sweater and pants. Winter helped her with her boots and then buttoned her coat up for her. She wound a scarf loosely around Weiss' neck and slipped a pair of white ear muffs onto her head.
Weiss was bouncing with anticipation.
"May we go now?" Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Winter kissed her again.
"Yes. Come with me."
She took her by the hand and led Weiss down the stairs.
With Winter's training, she was able to keep them out of sight of the maids as they made their way to the kitchen and out the back door.
The yard was covered in snow and ice, and Weiss marveled at the sight, her breath billowing white.
Winter led her out into the vast expanse of white, keeping a firm hold on her little hand. She tested the snow first before stepping down, making footprints for Weiss to follow in.
Once she'd led her out into the middle of the snow-covered yard, Winter kissed her sister's head one last time before releasing her hand.
"Now just stay right there," she instructed.
Weiss did as she was told, folding her hands together like a proper little lady, but not even her poised posture could mask the excitement bubbling in her eyes.
Winter stepped back a few paces, just to be safe. She'd practiced this many times on her own, and she knew that using her semblance called for a bit of wind.
She closed her eyes and concentrated for a long moment, gathering the inner energy that was innate only to herself. The snow around her seemed to shift, the clear air swirling with tiny white flakes.
Weiss watched in awed silence.
Winter focused, remembering all the training she'd done, be it alone or with teachers. She knew by now how to call upon her semblance – she just needed to control it.
This would only be the tenth time or so she'd formed the little white birds around herself. She'd crafted them after the forms of Grimm in hopes they might potentially frighten or deter future opponents.
Normally, she would make their motions fast and terrifying, with slicing wings and piercing beaks.
But for now and only now, she kept them soft.
As she formed them, she opened her eyes to watch them.
At first, Weiss gasped and took a tiny step back at the sight of the small Nevermores. But Winter called out to her gently.
"It's alright. They're mine. They won't hurt you."
The snowy birds darted around her on crystal-white wings, feathers fluttering amiably. They didn't make any sounds this time, whereas normally she'd let them shriek to discombobulate her adversary. She kept them quiet, peaceful.
As she spread her arms, they flitted towards Weiss, circling her in a soft, feathery flurry of snow-dust.
Weiss' fears were quickly dashed by her sister's reassurances. She trusted Winter with her life, so if she said it was alright, it was alright.
Slowly, carefully, she reached out her hand toward the birds. One perched on her finger, sending a tiny chill through her body, but Weiss only giggled in delight.
She danced through the snow with the little birds following her every move, soaring all around her like a tiny snowstorm.
Winter relished in her sister's joyful laughter. It was an innocent, merry little sound, one that filled the air with a pleasant ring.
Winter had never loved anything quite so much.
At one point, she met Weiss' eyes and smiled.
"Happy birthday, my little snowflake."
Weiss continued to run around in the snow, laughing and squealing as she played with the birds. They sat on her shoulders and let her pet their heads and wings.
Winter was proud of herself for creating them so well. She allowed herself to relax as she watched her sister play.
And that was her mistake.
Most of the birds behaved, but as Winter loosened her hold on her concentration, things went awry.
One of the birds started to flit around in jerking circles, and another began to fly backwards.
Winter realized what was happening too late.
By the time she regained control of the first one, two more had broken free of her control.
Weiss quickly noticed that the birds were beginning to screech at her, sending beats of fear into her heart. They stopped flying nicely around her and began flying at her.
Winter rushed towards her, desperately dissolving the birds one by one.
But she was frantic, scared for Weiss, scared of what her lapse in concentration might produce.
The tiny white Nevermores darted like daggers now, slicing through the air just inches away from her sister.
Winter destroyed another one, and it disappeared in a cloud of white. She cried out.
"Weiss, get down!"
But it was too late.
The last bird flew directly at her, and a slip of her boot on the snow made it impossible for Weiss to avoid the cruel, pointed beak.
It tore up along her cheek, over her eye, drawing forth a shrill scream from her lips just before it burst into flakes.
Weiss fell to the ground in a heap of snow, screaming and sobbing as boiling pain shot through the side of her face.
Winter could already see the blood welling up, staining the snow a horrible, deep crimson.
"NO!" She raced to her side and dropped to her knees, gathering Weiss into her arms. "No, n-no, Weiss! No...I-I..."
But she couldn't even find the words to apologize.
Weiss' cries drowned out all else.
Her hands were pressed hard over her left eye were blood spilled out from between her shaking fingers. Her small body cringed and convulsed in pain, wails of sheer agony ripping from her delicate throat.
Winter couldn't control her emotions. She broke down in a panic, something she was never supposed to do, but she had no other choice.
Weiss sobbed again, tears streaming down her face as blood trickled into her mouth.
"W-Winter!" she screamed. "It h-hurts- it hurts-!" Her voice died away in a bout of coughs and sobs.
Winter could only think of one thing to do.
Weiss was still young – far too young to learn about aura activation.
But it was the only way.
Winter pressed one hand to her sister's heaving chest, and the other to the center of her forehead. She stammered out the phrase she'd memorized and more or less forced Weiss' aura to unlock itself.
But she was so small...
The sudden surge of energy made Weiss jolt, a poignant mixture of heat and cold rushing through her body. It was too much for her to handle, and after one more strangled sob, she lost consciousness from the pain.
Winter sobbed and pulled her close, choking apologies.
But at the very least, she could see the glow of Weiss aura forming around her eye, staunching the flow of blood Winter herself had caused.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She continued to sob over Weiss' cold, limp form until the maids and her father arrived, shouting.
Winter just kept crying as they took Weiss from her arms.
Winter never forgave herself.
Days turned to weeks when she was forced to watch Weiss lie in bed in recovery with those bandages patched around half of her face.
As if the injury hadn't been bad enough, the forced activation of her aura had exhausted her on every level.
Weiss was too weak to stand on her own, and as badly as Winter longed to be the one to help her, she left it to the maids.
She didn't feel she deserved to touch her.
Their father lectured her long and hard on her foolishness, but Winter never cried in front of him.
She only cried for Weiss.
She made a vow to herself never to let her own incompetence cause harm to her sister again.
It was her fault, and she knew it.
But Weiss didn't blame her.
Every time she glimpsed her big sister lingering outside her room, Weiss would call out for her.
And so long as no one else was around, Winter would cave and enter. She'd collapse to her knees on the floor beside the bed and cry while Weiss held her hand gently.
Once Winter was finished crying, she'd hug her desperately and apologize until her voice died away.
And Weiss always forgave her.
Winter could only focus on one phrase.
"I hurt you... I hurt you..."
But Weiss only focused on the other half.
"You saved me... you saved me..."
Weiss loved her, but Winter loved her even more dearly.
Which was why she made a vow never to hurt her again.
Once Weiss was well again, the doctors removed the bandages and declared that Winter's act of unlocking Weiss' aura had spared her little sister's vision. Without Winter's quick decision, Weiss would have been blind in her left eye for the rest of her life.
That was the grain of solace Winter took away from the ordeal.
But the scar left behind on Weiss' perfect face would haunt her forever.
She began pulling her own bangs over the right side of her face, so she couldn't easily see the scar whenever she looked at Weiss. She hated to remember her crimes, the pain she'd caused her precious sister.
But she needed to live with it, and claim responsibility for her actions.
She repented for many long hours of many long weeks.
She trained herself harder, more harshly each morning, and would come home to find Weiss hugging her softly each night.
Weiss got better, went back to her lessons, was taught how to wield a rapier while Winter practiced with two.
Only a few years later, Winter was scheduled to head off to military school where she would live for the next year of her life without returning home.
During her last night in the mansion, she'd laid in her bed with all of her packed bags around her. And a small knock had come on her door.
Weiss, now eleven years old, padded softly into the room and went to her sister's side. Winter held her close and savored the last embrace she'd get to share with her for one entire year.
"I'll miss you," Weiss whispered. "I already do... Please, come home safely."
Winter nodded and kissed her scarred cheek.
"You know I will."
Weiss fell asleep in her arms that night, and Winter curled herself around her protectively. She shed a few stray tears as she kissed her one last time.
"My precious little snowflake."
. . .
. .
.
Over the years, they'd grown apart.
Winter was aware of that much.
But the heartfelt letters she always received from Weiss on holidays and birthdays never failed to make her hide a smile.
Even when she arrived at the Vytal Tournament to support her sister, it was very difficult for her to keep up the military appearances.
She'd wanted to hug her again, but was forced to refrain with so many people around.
But the hard years of work in the military made her wonder if she might've even done it if they'd been alone together.
She'd seen Weiss' flaws on the televised battles, and Winter verbally lashed out at her for the missed strikes and poor technique.
Because the last time someone in their family had faltered with their semblance, there'd been blood.
She couldn't afford to let Weiss get hurt again, or worse, accidentally injure one of her friends and suffer through the guilt Winter knew all too well.
So she scolded her, hit her, ridiculed her.
Because that was what her job had trained her to do to incompetent trainees.
Because that's how they'd learn to get better.
She just wanted Weiss to be safe.
And if that meant making her flinch, then so be it.
That slight flash of pain in her eyes today was worth it if it meant she could avoid faltering on the battlefield tomorrow.
But Winter was sure to push the authoritative side of herself down long enough to inquire about Weiss' personal life. She was glad to see her sister's eyes light up all over again as she gabbed away.
But Winter only listened with one ear. Her main focus now was to help Weiss train before her doubles' round match.
So she led her away from her team for the time being, taking her instead someplace secluded to practice her glyphs.
"Go on," she grunted.
She observed Weiss' technique in forming and casting the circle, instantly stopping her when she noticed the faintest flaw.
"No, no, no. How in the world do you consider that proper execution? You don't need to close your eyes for that long. You don't need to hold your breath. Do it again."
And she did. Weiss repeated the process again and again.
And all the while, Winter tore her techniques apart.
"Not enough. Again."
Weiss lowered her rapier and stole a determined glance at her sister.
"Right."
Again, she tried.
And again.
Whenever Winter told her do, she did it.
Whatever Winter sneered at her for, she tried to improve it.
And Winter saw that she was trying.
It was a cruel way of handling things, but it was effective.
"Honestly. Is that the best you can do?" she snorted. "If this is what you call trying, then you have no hope of winning the tournament, let alone succeeding as a huntress."
That was the comment that had Weiss' erect posture stiffening all the more, and her teeth grit until they drew blood from her lip.
Winter pushed her, harder and harder. Because this way, Weiss would get stronger.
But she failed to remember her promise.
Winter had gotten so used to this commanding style over her years in the military. It was all too easy for her to demand improvement without regard for consequence on the other party's behalf.
Weiss wasn't used to being pushed like this by the only person in her family who truly cared for her.
"Not good enough," Winter snapped.
And she realized she was sounding more and more like their father.
That was the thought that made her stop, pulling her back into reality. Her mind was suddenly freed of its usual commanding style, years of drills and training that had been hammered into her mind coming undone in a second as Weiss swayed on her feet.
Winter rushed forward to steady her as Myrtenaster clanked onto the stone ground, the glyphs vanishing. Weiss gasped thinly as she attempted to right herself.
Winter didn't let her go.
"Weiss! Ugh, you fool..." She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. "You should have told me it was too much. No- I... I should've realized..." Her voice trailed off as she crouched onto one knee with Weiss in her lap. "No... I'm sorry. I'm sorry... You've just finished a match. It's been a tiring day for you. I'm sorry..."
Weiss caught her breath, reaching out to place her hand over Winter's.
"I'm sorry. I should've tried harder like you said."
"No," she sighed. "No. I was wrong to push you like I did. I didn't... I wasn't thinking. You've tried hard enough. You've done enough, Weiss. This is enough..." She sighed, leaning forward over her sister in a loose embrace.
Weiss dared to hug her back gently.
She noticed when Winter's bun came loose, and her hair cascaded down from the tight restraint. Weiss had always loved how she looked with her hair down.
She smiled, running her fingers up through Winter's hair, her finger catching the misplaced tie. Weiss presented it to her, knowing Winter wanted to keep up appearances.
But for now, Winter merely slipped the band around her wrist.
"I'll tie it later," she decided. "For now, let me take you back to your dorm."
She kept her arm around Weiss' back as she helped her stand. Weiss picked up her rapier and slipped it into place at her hip before contentedly leaning into her sister's side.
"Perhaps tomorrow... before the matches begin, we could train together again? I'll be able to work harder then, I promise."
Winter nodded.
"Yes. Once you've eaten and rested. We'll practice a bit more tomorrow. But I know you'll do well either way."
Weiss sighed.
"But... I don't just want to do well, Winter. I want to win. For you. I want to... to make you proud."
Her blue eyes were both nervous and hopeful. All her years of training and trying would come to fruition here.
She wanted to win.
For her sister.
Winter understood that now. She reached up, running her fingers gingerly through Weiss' bangs.
"Oh, my precious snowflake," she murmured, kissing her scar. "You already have."
Winter hugged her again, without restraint, for the first time in nearly a decade.
Weiss returned it just as warmly as ever.
They'd both wanted this so badly.
And now that they were together again, there was no reason for them not to have it.
A/N: Probably a huge stretch for Winter to fall back on her harshness and start showing concern for Weiss while training her. And an even bigger stretch on her giving Weiss her scar.
But I still like to believe Winter will be a good, caring big sister to her. I don't want her to be using Weiss' affections for her. I don't want her to be blinded by the military's style and ridicule Weiss at every turn. I want her to genuinely care for Weiss, and like Yang would for Ruby, do anything to keep her safe.
Either way, I guess we'll find out from the canon soon enough ;~;
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