Disclaimer: Okay, so, this is based off a prompt from MakaSoul for Freezerburn. "Imagine your OTP in an arranged marriage, meeting for the first time on their wedding day. Now imagine them awkwardly getting to know each other and struggling through early married life together." And then this happened. Get ready for a ride. For anyone who read this on tumblr, minor grammar/spelling edits have been made but there's no change to the events themselves.
Weiss had half a mind to scream.
It would be cathartic, she thought, as she sat at the head of the table next to her new spouse in a white wedding dress that reached up her neck and down her arms in the traditional Atlesian fashion. She looked every bit the picture of perfection- spine ramrod straight, shoulders back, chin tilted up ever so slightly, expression held in one of mild disinterest- as befitting any of the Schnee bloodline. However, the mask and headdress matching her clothing was definitely alien to her and she was obviously out of place at the wedding feast, just as the rest of her family sitting off to her right appeared amidst the Valen customs and traditions. In Atlas, they were all anyone aspired to be, always poised and seemingly above those around them, but here they looked too lifeless, too calm and collected to be present for such merrymaking.
Years ago, the kingdoms of Remnant went to war. Every continent was engulfed in bloody conflict and Mantle was no exception, the struggle spilling across farmlands and into towns and cities until only Atlas remained to unite the broken people under a single banner: that of House Schnee. One might think that was enough, to hold dominion over a whole landmass, but her father set his sights on the bountiful lands across the sea and her mother did nothing to curb his desire for power. He made the foolish choice- only visible in hindsight- to attack Vale, itself having only recently quelled their own conflicts and returned to peace under the rule of House Xiao Long.
Six months ago, it became apparent that the Valen army was more unified, hardier, and above all deadlier than her father had anticipated. With the risk of their navy landing on Mantle's shores and no way to stop them marching on Atlas, the King had sought a truce. Just like that, she went from being the second born daughter to the most noble family in the land to a bartering chip, surrendered to ensure her family retained their crown.
Some part of her hated her new spouse for that simple reason. This was not a choice for her nor even a passing desire; she was nearly twenty, raised during a time of war, and had long ago cast aside childish notions such as love. A marriage for political or financial gain was a tangible reality, but even that was beyond her reach now. Instead, she would be sacrificed to the potential invaders to cover her father's poor planning and lust for power. On top of that, her new spouse- her new homeland- practiced customs that were absolutely abhorrent to one raised among Atlesian nobility.
They either ate with their bare hands or thin, wooden sticks, with no proper silverware to be found. They spoke loudly and emphatically in their native tongue, banging their fists on the table sporadically and bellowing out their laughter as they poured a sweet rice wine into goblets that were drained almost the moment they were filled. They wore bright colors woven into their shirts and pants but the fabric hardly covered most of the men and some of the women, bellies left vulnerable and arms on display, all of them well suited to the warmer weather.
She thought her father a coward for fearing these people; they wouldn't last a single week of Atlesian nights.
Suddenly, her spouse moved, making to stand and call the great hall to order. It was surprising how quickly the rowdy crowd died down, all eyes turning to their Queen.
Weiss was not given much information on the woman who would now call her 'wife', outside of horrified whispers traded among the Atlesian army. A terror on the battlefield, bearing down on her foes with all the fury of a wronged Goddess, with eyes that bled with the blood of her felled foes and never ran dry, an ancient dragon in human form- tall tales, to be sure. But… she wasn't entirely sure they were based entirely in the imagination of shell shocked soldiers.
Yang Xiao Long was certainly built like a force to be reckoned with. She stood a full head taller than Weiss with thick corded muscles that flexed with every movement, luscious blonde locks cascading down her back in an unruly fashion from beneath the headdress, which was bedecked in bright yellow feathers and a single amethyst gem set between the brows of her mask. The cream colored tunic and leather vest- finely stitched with her family's crest set above her left breast- did nothing to hide the size of her shoulders or chest nor the solidity of her core, the sword belt carelessly slung around her hips hardly moving or digging into her waist, like it did whenever Weiss wore it.
Another Valen custom that seemed so strange to her: every man and woman was a warrior, each taking up a weapon of their own in defense of home and country. There was no set soldier caste and so each and every person, when they married, was expected to exhibit a show of trust in their new spouse by exchanging the weapon they wielded with that of their betrothed for a full week following the wedding. Myrtenaster, the thin blade Weiss had accepted as a present from her father to 'celebrate' her engagement, looked frail hanging from the woman's left hip while Weiss' own arms were covered in the heavy cestus the blonde allegedly used to tear her enemies apart. She half expected to find lingering blood hiding in the grooves. There wasn't any, though, as the metal was polished to a bright shine that drew attention to how small she was in comparison, the metalwork only held in place by leather straps that had never been pulled so tight, though she managed not to embarrass herself whenever she reached out for her drink to lift the mug with everyone else as her new spouse called out above the remaining din.
Whatever the toast consisted of, she was theoretically left ignorant while translators bent their heads low towards her father and sister, but she hadn't spent her days idly awaiting her wedding. She'd studied the words printed in books, wanting to at least understand the whispers that were sure to follow her every step in the other kingdom. Hearing the language spoken, however, was something else entirely, and she struggled to catch phrases and snippets to parse together some greater meaning. She was marginally successful; most of the toast was about the coming age of alliance between Vale and Atlas, how the two noble houses would be bound by honor to protect one another. Then, raucous laughter interrupted the warrior Queen after a particular quip that she didn't grasp and it didn't bode well in her opinion, more than a few glances thrown her way as her father stiffened, the corners of his mouth turned down in distaste. All she could catch was something about 'how long she'd last', referring to the Atlesian, of course. As the amusement quieted down, the blonde turned, extending her right hand in a wordless gesture for Weiss to stand. Slipping her gauntleted hand into the other woman's larger one, she rose with all the poise she could muster, sweeping her blue eyes out across the hall as everyone waited for something to occur.
The mug the other woman held was raised a little higher before she boomed out a single command. "Gānbēi!"
As one, everyone in the hall raised their mugs to their lips and began to drink. In Atlas, anything more than a small sip would be considered an overindulgence, but Weiss could see out of the corner of her eye that her spouse was doing her level best to empty the cup in one go. This, at least, was one of the traditions she was told about- a toast meant to drain all the cups in the room. For a guest to not do so was disrespectful to the wedding party; for one or both of the newlyweds, it meant ill omens for the union.
Eventually, the warrior Queen tilted her head all the way back as she drank the last of her mug, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before looking at Weiss out of the corner of her eye, lilac orbs just barely visible through the holes in the mask. "If you put your cup down now, no one will notice."
The words were spoken in Atlesian- though roughened slightly by the woman's accent and nothing at all like the crisp, clean way a native would say them- and she bristled at hearing both her mother tongue butchered and the implication that she didn't have the constitution to finish her mug. Personally, the wine was a tad too sweet, forcing her to stomach it only in small gulps which was somehow interpreted as a lack of fortitude on her part. To prove a point, she continued drinking, forcing her stomach to cooperate as she tipped her head back further. Once the last bit of liquid was swallowed down, she took the cup away from her lips and reached forward, setting the empty thing down on the table and collecting a rag one of the servants had left behind to delicately dab at her mouth.
Just because she was now married to a brute didn't mean she had to forsake her manners completely.
She didn't miss the way the warrior Queen smirked, as if amused by her defiance, before turning her attention to the crowd once more and calling for the soothsayer who oversaw their wedding to read their future. A man with shaggy silver hair and a nigh permanent little smile nodded, bending over his sticks for a minute and then announcing the union as blessed by the Valen gods. He said something about the 'Fall Maiden' being their guardian spirit and the whole building shook from the force of everyone's mirthful shouts, no shortage of wide smiles and various noises of approval among those present.
Weiss kept her gaze evenly trained on a spot on the far side of the hall, ignoring the calls asking for more wine until a hand touched her shoulder lightly. Much to her surprise, it was her spouse, inclining her head towards the rear of the hall.
Ah, so it was time for them to be excused from the merriment to properly meet each other. The Schnees and their entourage had landed in Vale two days ago and made the trek from the shore to Fort Beacon, which the Xiao Longs claimed as their home, with only enough time for an uneasy night's rest before the preparations for the ceremony began. Not once during that time had she even seen the warrior Queen, instead being passed off to lesser 'nobles'- if the Valens even considered such things. There was little information as to how their hierarchy worked, especially without the traditional castes set in place.
Tossed into the unknown for the sake of preserving her father's place; was it any wonder she was angry?
Regardless, Weiss turned and allowed herself to be escorted away- it was better than being thrown over the brute's shoulder, she reasoned- as the wine continued to pour, the newlyweds exiting the meal hall through a back door and both of them stepping out into the brisk evening air side-by-side using what appeared to be a servants' entrance. In Atlas, the snow would be falling in heavy waves and blanketing the land in white, but here there was only a mild chill to the air that pulled more of a reaction from the brute than it did her. The shattered moon overhead lit their way better than the sparse torchlight as they started towards the fort's towering center building, where packs of guards roamed with their weapons on display and wearing smiles that brightened as they called out to their liege, acknowledgements and encouragements evenly mixed among the shouts. The Queen returned their greetings with laughter and the occasional phrase, bidding them a good night.
Despite her shorter stature, Weiss kept pace with the woman step for step, chin tilted up and disregarding the curious looks sent her way. In time, the people of Vale would grow accustomed to her, and with any luck she could be left to her own devices. The alternative was… not a pleasant thought and something she didn't want to entertain as they passed through open double doors and into the entrance hall of the fort's central hub. High stone walls that amplified the sound of her spouse's heavy boots while she moved along almost soundlessly next to her, hands clasped in front of her to keep them from shaking; every step brought them closer to what she presumed to be the bed chamber where their marriage would be consummated, as was required by Atlesian custom. From what she understood, Valens were much more lax in that aspect. Her father had always claimed it made them weaker as a people.
Obviously, he was very wrong on that front.
"Your name is Weiss, yeah?" She snapped out of her grim musings to glance at her spouse briefly, noting how the woman continued acknowledging every person they passed, as if she knew each one personally. The blonde seemed to switch between the two languages effortlessly and disregarded any curious looks from those who heard her speak Atlesian. It wasn't the same sort of indifference with which the Schnees carried themselves, however, no air of superiority hanging heavily around her; instead, she simply seemed confident, almost cocky, as if she could do no wrong and a smile was all she needed to explain herself regardless of how bizarre her actions.
"Yes, it is," the shorter woman replied, though she used the Valen tongue, pleased when she made the staccato syllables flow smoothly together. There was some small part of her that considered keeping her knowledge of the warrior Queen's language a secret, to be better prepared should someone mistake her for a fool, but her pride trumped that little bit of tactical foresight. She would not be considered dull by her new spouse. "It was my great grandmother's name."
That earned her a look- half surprised, half impressed- and a small smile, but it wasn't enough to coerce the Queen into using her native tongue. "So you speak our language."
"I am in Vale and will be for a long time." Weiss pointed out, gritting her teeth slightly. "Did you think me incapable of learning it?"
"No, of course not!" The taller woman barked out a laugh before turning her head, those lilac eyes seeming to catch the torchlight as they paused at the bottom of a staircase, what could be seen of her face softening. "But if you are going to live in my country, surrounded by my people and my kin, I'd rather speak your language when it's just us. It's the least I can do."
That was surprisingly considerate… but Weiss immediately narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "We are already wed; there's no reason for feigned thoughtfulness on your part."
That was technically a lie. According to Atlesian custom, they weren't- at least not yet, as the consummation of the marriage was considered the most important part- but that didn't matter. Even if she attempted to flee, Atlas would not harbor her; this was her home now and this brute of a woman was her spouse, her wife. There was no denying that reality and preserving the traditions of her now lost homeland would do neither of them any good.
She could see the slight downturn in the other woman's lips and didn't doubt her brows were furrowed beneath her mask, but it wasn't in anger- confusion, perhaps. "There's nothing about this that's fake. We're married now and our happiness is tied together. If you are uncomfortable, I am, too."
"Don't take me for a fool." Weiss shook her head, refusing to be treated like an ignorant pawn. If nothing else, her spouse would at the very least accept that she was a woman of considerable intelligence, able to see the world for what it was. "I have no illusions about this arrangement. I'm a trophy, given to you in exchange for sparing my homeland." She paused, internally cursing herself but acknowledging that she did still hold some duty to her former people. Inciting a war by insulting her spouse would be considered betraying that by most. "I will do what is asked of me, but don't expect my gratitude for your attempts at kindness."
She turned, leaving the Queen standing stunned at the bottom of the staircase while hiking up her dress to ascend and hoping the path ahead would either be obvious or the brute would snap out of her stupor before the Atlesian got hopelessly lost. She was nearly to the landing when she heard the other woman's voice call out, bringing her to an immediate halt.
"Would you want to sing for me?"
Weiss turned, looking down at the taller woman for once. "Are you asking me to sing for you?"
"No." The Queen shifted her weight, as if struggling to find the right words. Seeing as they were both still using the other's native language, it was no surprise that the response took a moment to piece together, but she wasn't left waiting long. "I'm asking if there's a chance you may one day want to sing, with me as your audience."
She remained silent, pressing her lips into a thin line. Singing was something she'd learned out of necessity- a noble woman was well practiced in all the pretty arts- but she'd grown rather fond of it in the stolen moments where she could do as she wished. But, as everything, the memories of what little happiness it brought her were tainted by the wars, by the weight of expectation, and by the eventual rejection of those idle flights of fancy.
"It's just that." The blonde sighed, apparently admitting defeat and continuing in her own language, though it wasn't the same quick pace as before. The cadence of her speech was slower and more pronounced, ensuring each word was separated and understandable. Weiss had half a mind to be insulted but, given her proficiency in Valen wasn't enough to keep up with a native speaker, she let the infraction slide for the moment. "We captured some of your kingdom's soldiers last year, towards the beginning of spring. Before we released them, there was one who talked about you like you were old friends. He said your voice was calming like the night wind and that you looked like one of the moon's lost daughters when you sang. That was when you were happiest, according to him."
Unbidden, the name sprang to mind, but Weiss brushed it off quickly. She was aware only one lowly knight who would be so foolish as to speak of her with such familiarity, though she sincerely doubted he would have the presence of mind to use such romanticized descriptions. Even after he'd returned to Atlas- a reclaimed son, thought lost and welcomed home like a hero with the rest of his group- his fumbling attempts to address her never came across as anything more than a mere annoyance. "What bearing does this have on anything? I haven't sang in years."
That was a lie, actually. In the private moments spent away from others, she often sang softly to herself. It was to stay in practice, she told herself, but there was also comfort she took from the action as well. It wasn't something she'd share with another, though.
"I've been told." Reaching up, the woman removed the headdress and mask, baring her face for the first time to the Atlesian. Even if it vexed her to think it, she had to admit the warrior was rather attractive now that she could see her full features, ruddy round cheeks already showing the hints of laugh lines giving her a youthful appearance. And her eyes- without the mask partially obscuring them, lilac glinted with conviction like freshly polished gems from beneath golden bangs. It was startling, how a woman who was touted as one of the greatest, deadliest warriors in Remnant, could be so strikingly beautiful. "Neither of us truly wanted this, Weiss. I understand that. But that doesn't mean it has to be all bad. Maybe… maybe we can make this work, for both of us." She tucked the headdress under her arm as if it were a helmet, giving her the appearance of a rather strange looking knight with Myrtenaster on her hip, the hilt of which she brushed with her fingertips. "I haven't earned your trust yet, but I want to and I want you to be happy. You say you will do what is asked of you. All I ask is: will you give me a chance?"
Weiss blinked. Was this woman truly inquiring if there was a possibility for something genuine to develop between them? "You are asking me a question, implying there is more than one answer I can give." Carefully, she clasped her hands together even as the metal of the cestus covering each forearm clinked together softly. "From where I'm standing, I have reason to doubt that."
"You have a choice." The blonde's lips pressed into a thin line as she drummed her fingers against the sword hilt. "I can't give you back the life you once had. That's not within my power, but there's a village tucked away in the mountains that houses an ancient temple. It- it doesn't get as cold as Atlas but it does snow there. It could never replace your home but you might like it and the monks will treat you with reverence." She shrugged. "There are other places, too. Anywhere in Vale you'd prefer to live, anything you wish to do- say the word and it will be done." A pause. "As long as it doesn't compromise Vale. I wouldn't be very good at this whole ruling thing if I sacrificed my people's wellbeing for my own desires." Then a smile claimed her features, shoulders relaxing every so slightly. "I would like it if you'd stay with me, of course. But whether you remain or leave- or remain and ignore me entirely- is your choice."
The Atlesian bought herself time by taking the final step to the landing, leaving her back to the Queen for a moment. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if her former role in Atlas was much of an improvement over her current situation, even if it was possible. Her parents were abdicating the crown with her father blaming the whole war with Vale on a myriad of reasons that he hoped the 'younger generation' would be able to see more clearly, leaving Winter as the reluctant Queen of Atlas tasked with undoing the damage he'd wrought. Were she to go back, Weiss would undoubtedly be subject to yet another marriage to strengthen the alliance between the conquered kingdoms under her family's rule; that was Whitley's fate, his own wedding set for another two months.
Collecting herself, she turned around, blue meeting lilac. "And if I choose to deny you this chance you seek?"
The smile slid away as the Queen's shoulders dropped. She looked away, biting her lip briefly, before seeming to marshal her thoughts into order, climbing the stairs slowly. Weiss watched, wary, and took two steps back as the blonde arrived on the landing. Now the Queen was taller once more, but she didn't seem intent on lording that over the other woman. Instead, with movements so deliberate and slow as to make the Atlesian anxious, she unbuckled the sword belt and slid it from her hips, allowing the shining metal of the blade to rest in her hands, against the flat of her palms, while her headdress fell to the ground, forgotten. Then, she bent her right knee until it hit the ground, offering up Myrtenaster with her head bowed.
"In that case… I don't deserve this."
Weiss took a half step back, furrowing her brows in confusion. This… had to be a trick of some sort; why would the woman willingly divest herself of weapons while in the presence of a former enemy? Did the warrior Queen think so little of her that even without weapons there was nothing to fear? She cast her gaze around, finding a few roving guards trying and failing to appear uninterested in the events unfolding at the top of the stairs. They didn't seem particularly scandalized; if anything, some looked crestfallen before turning their stares towards their feet while others tried to hide their amusement.
Then, the significance of the weapons registered. This was effectively an offer to break their union, regardless of the blessings of the soothsayer.
"You would be a laughing stock among your people," she said, tentatively resting one hand on the blade, just to see what reaction she could pull from the woman.
"So?" The Queen's gaze raised, a fire burning in the depths of her eyes. "I'd rather they see me as a fool than you see me as a monster." She pushed lightly, firmly setting Myrtenaster in the Atlesian's loose grip. "If it's your desire to leave, I accept that. I only ask that you allow my guards to accompany you; they will remain out of your sight but they'll protect you wherever you choose to go… as long as it's within Vale." A light grimace marred her features. "We're still working out the details of our peace treaty with Vacuo and I'd rather not get them started again. Vytal is at peace and I'd like it to stay that way."
Ah, there it was, the subtle nudge at her pride and duty. Surely if she took Myrtenaster and turned her back on the woman, her family would be slain and her country put to the sword. "And Atlas?"
"Ha!" Mirth played freely over the warrior's features as her shoulders shook. "Atlas doesn't have the army to march or the navy to sail, no offense." Recovering, the woman coughed once. "Your homeland took too many loses early on and the prolonged battles wore worse on your people than mine. Atlas will be too weak to mount another attack for at least three years, and we will be stronger still by then." The warrior Queen seemed to shift uncomfortably, looking away as a blush rose in her cheeks. "I mean… honestly, I knew your father feared we would invade, but that would do us no good. We rely on tight knit communities to maintain our strength; a colony across the sea doesn't appeal to us. If he hadn't suggested a marriage as a sign of goodwill… we wouldn't have sought one."
Weiss scoffed. "Then why accept?"
"A man who would throw his daughter away so quickly does not deserve the pleasure of her company," she replied without hesitation.
"Are you not doing the same thing? Tossing me aside?" The Atlesian lightly grasped the blade and lifted it just enough to draw attention to its weight before letting it lay once against the blonde's palms.
"The difference is I'm giving you the choice on whether to stay or go. I'm not sending you away or keeping you here to suit my own wishes." One brow arched. "Are you saying he asked your permission for this beforehand?"
That was a good point. "No."
For a moment, Weiss weighed the woman's words. If the Queen was trying to deceive her, she was terrifyingly good; if she was being sincere, that was more horrifying. Her father had spoken at length about the savages of Vytal, how they lacked the courtesies and refinement of even the most base Atlesian commoner, but here was their Queen, with a more noble heart than she'd ever seen. No one could be like this and rule a country, especially not one renowned for their fury.
It seemed fitting to put the woman to the test. Retracting her hand from Myrtenaster, Weiss began tugging on the leather straps binding the cestus to her right forearm.
That finally pulled a reaction from the Queen, a single hand shooting out to… lightly lay against her fingers, a pleading expression pinching her face. "Please, don't."
"Am I not free to leave?" Ice crept into her voice, having suspected as much from the start. Being proven right, however, was adding another layer of frost to her countenance.
"You are, but take them with you. Please." Weiss couldn't help her brows rising in surprise as the blonde's posture slumped further. "It's one thing to not hold your trust, to be rejected in that sense… I can accept that and my people… well, they'll give me a hard time, sure, but it'll be an old joke and nothing more soon enough. Arranged marriages are common and it's not entirely strange for them to… fall through." She could see the genuine pain and disappointment flashing across the Queen's expression. "But to have my trust rejected… it…"
How could this brute manage to confound her at every turn? "I… don't see the difference."
"Taking your weapon back means you can't accept me as your wife. And, that's fine. I can understand that." Lilac eyes lifted to meet her gaze. "But giving me Ember Celica back means I'm not even fit enough for my trust to mean anything to you. That giving you my trust is an insult to you and I…" her gaze dropped "…I put my trust in you willingly, Weiss. Please… let that mean something."
She could scarcely believe it.
The warrior Queen, who felled so many that the rivers ran red with blood and never dried, was a paradox. She was strong enough to tear apart entire battalions herself but her touch was soft and gentle; her voice commanded absolute authority among her people but it had yet to exert even an ounce of that forcefulness on Weiss; she apparently saw nothing wrong with being ridiculed by her own people for being rejected from a marriage but cared enough about her opinion to actually look on the verge of tears.
What probably seemed strangest about the whole thing was that she couldn't think of one person she cared about- aside from her sister- who cared about her opinion half as much.
"You're a fool," she said, scowling slightly. "You don't even know me."
"You're smart- you've learned Valen on your own in less than six months, something your own father didn't expect I'm guessing, and I'd bet money on that. You exhibit every aspect your family demands and it's never enough, but you keep trying anyways because, well, what else you can do? But you're dedicated on your own merits, not just because you're expected to be. When given the chance to slack off, you hold yourself to a higher standard regardless. You think I'm horribly barbaric- you probably expected I'd, what, sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you off to have my way with you, right?" The blonde tilted Myrtenaster slightly. "You've also never actually used this weapon, but you've been maintaining it yourself. You're actually pretty good at it, too."
Apparently, the blonde was much more observant that she would've guessed during their brief time interacting with one another. While that was the first compliment she'd received in… a long while, Weiss couldn't help but fixate on the subtle insult, forget that the woman had somehow read her mind. "And what's deficient about my maintenance skills?"
"You're using the same oil on the blade as the handle." Seemingly ignoring her indignation for the moment, the blonde squinted at the guard. "It's not a huge problem because there's no leather-which would get broken down by the oil- but you're leaving too much and it's going to be difficult for you to grip properly."
"Oh." She blinked. "I… suppose you have a fair point."
"But that doesn't diminish your point; I don't know you, not yet." The warrior Queen looked up at her, utmost sincerity shining in her expression. "I would like to have the chance, though."
It was wrong how much the woman looked like a hopeful puppy waiting for a treat at that moment, as if Weiss' answer would make or break her, and… honestly, she believed that was the case. It was such a departure from the world she'd known, a type of power that was beyond her reach within the walls of Castle Schnee. She was meant to be seen and not heard, if that, but here she would be given that respite only if she requested it. "What am I supposed to call you?" The blonde raised a brow, either at the question or the switch to Atlesian, it was difficult to tell. "Your Majesty?"
"Oh! No, not at all." She flashed a sheepish smile, also changing to her second language. "I… get the feeling Atlas is bigger about formalities, but we're not; everyone calls me by my name unless we have company over."
"Very well, Yang." The Atlesian didn't miss how the blonde's eyes seemed to light up; she half expected the woman thought she didn't know the Queen's name but conceded that it was more likely she simply didn't expect her to use it. Shifting her attention from the woman's expression to Myrtenaster, Weiss took the blade into her hands and ignored the way what little happiness had accumulated in the blonde's face immediately disappeared. "Stand up."
"Um…"
"I am not repeating myself, you dolt," she said, no real venom behind the words. Still, Yang moved quickly all the same, regaining her feet with a speed that was a tad disconcerting considering her size. Ignoring the sensation for the moment, the Atlesian set about securing the belt around her wife's waist once more, allowing the blade to dangle from the other woman's hip. The motions were easy- that's how they'd given the weapons to each other during the ceremony, after all- but this go around was different. "The first time I did this, all I knew was that it was expected of me. This time, I mean it." She stepped back, meeting her wife's lilac gaze. "I believe you… are sincere, at the very least. Whether or not I'll ever sing for you remains to be seen but… I'm your wife." Weiss nodded as she fixed the buckle in place and stepped back. "And I expect to be treated as such."
"O-of course." The blonde nodded quickly. "Your, ah, official title is Queen Consort." Her face screwed up in thought. "I think? Like I said, we're not big on titles-"
"Pick up your headdress."
"Yes, Ma'am." The brute quickly scooped up the colorful, feathered article. "Uh, what next?"
Weiss waved a hand towards the next set of stairs with a raised brow. "Lead the way?"
"Oh! Heh, right." Yang offered a bright smile, stepping up beside the Atlesian and offering her arm. It was a surprisingly genteel gesture and it didn't escape her notice, as she slid a gloved hand into the crook of the blonde's elbow, that her muscles were just as solid as they appeared, but she was distracted from that errant thought by the grimace twisting the woman's lips. "Oh, and, uh, there's one more thing. I… really didn't know you could understand me during the wedding toast and I wanted to… clarify something."
Well, it wasn't hard to guess where this was heading. "About 'how long I'll last', I suppose."
"Yeah. That." Weiss didn't miss how the woman coughed into her hand, trying to disguise the blush rising in her cheeks as they started forward, likely as a means of distraction from the Queen's embarrassment. "It's just… look, I apologize ahead of time, but I… I snore really loud."
She couldn't help but blink. That… wasn't where she expected this particular tangent to go, frankly. "You snore."
"Yeah- it drives everyone crazy. They used to tease me that I'd be single forever, purely because I could drive bears off with my snoring." Yang laughed, shifting the headdress slightly as they continued down the next corridor. "So, yeah, that was the joke."
"In that case, you'll be pleased to know I can be more stubborn than any mere bear," she replied, tilting her chin up slightly. Certainly it was just a little exaggeration and nothing to truly be concerned about.
"We'll see," Yang said, though her smile had returned at the boast. It seemed her wife liked whenever she rose to a challenge. "Our temporary abode is this way."
"You mean this isn't where you spend most of your time?" That was genuinely surprising, given how she'd interacted with everyone.
"Nah, not at all. When I'm not on the march, I usually spend my time in Patch, where I grew up." Once again, the woman flashed a somewhat sheepish smile. "We didn't hold the ceremony there because it's… well, not as impressive as a fort. I mean, by, uh, Atlesian standards."
She nodded, a small smile curling her lips. The least she could do was try. "I… can't wait to see it."
The way her wife's smile somehow managed to grow at that comment made a small amount of warmth bloom in her chest.
It was surprisingly nice.
Author's Note: ... and, no, I don't know why I seem plagued by various incarnations of Games of Thrones AUs. Because I have several chapters written, this will update weekly until I'm caught up, and hopefully that'll be a while down the road. Thanks for reading this far and I hope you enjoy the story ahead!