"How are you my love?" Weiss asked, caressing Blake's back.

"Divine, as long as I am with you," Blake said in an absent tone. Her eyes were glazed, staring at nothing from her chair. A sneer crept across Weiss' face.

"Good. Tomorrow, we will embark on the grandest chapter of our lives. Oh how I've waited for—"

A commotion sounded from outside the door to the drawing room. The doors burst open as two guards flew through them and sprawled on the ground, unconscious. A cloaked figure strode through the door, her boots echoing on the hardwood floor. The figure drew back her hood revealing long brown hair. Weiss scoffed at the girl.

"I killed Sienna Khan and her rabid bodyguard when I took Blake. I captured her parents and her irritating monkey friend when they tried to rescue her. Why do you think you'll succeed where they've failed?"

Ilia drew her weapon from her cloak and brandished it at Weiss. "Because I love her."

Weiss nodded in acquiescence, then raised her own blade in a ready stance. "Love isn't invincible," Weiss said with a smirk.

"That's why I brought these!" Ilia whipped her cloak open to release a half-dozen smoke grenades. Smoke filled the room and Ilia dashed to one side, pulling a pair of goggles over her eyes. The smoke obscured Ilia's vision as well, but Ilia had fought enough in poor visibility that she was still able navigate the cloud to Blake.

"Blake," she whispered into her ear, tugging at her wrist. "Let's go, now!" Blake barely registered Ilia's presence, looking at her with that same glassy stare. Ilia stood and heaved on her wrist, but Blake wouldn't budge from her chair. Ilia heard a small rush of air and let go of Blake's wrist, somersaulting backwards away from her as Weiss drove her rapier into the spot where she'd been standing.

"How dumb do you think I am?" Weiss shouted. "You came here for her, and you resorted to this stupid trick to avoid me. Of course you'd run straight to her!"

Ilia retreated, then crept through the smoke trying to flank Weiss. She'd moved to what she thought was Weiss' right, when a blue light flashed in the smoke. A loud drone like a helicopter's rotor filled the air, and wind blew through the room. The smoke cleared, revealing Weiss and a translucent blue, car-sized Lancer, the source of the sudden gust.

Weiss' summon rushed at Ilia. Ilia dove under it, rolling to her feet and clashing weapons with Weiss. She headbutted the Schnee matriarch, breaking her focus and driving her back. The Lancer winked out of existence and Ilia pressed her attack, doing all she could to prevent Weiss from summoning another minion.

Weiss leapt back and up, forming a glyph behind her in midair. But before she could leap off it, Ilia extended her own rapier into its whip form, coiling it around Weiss' ankle. She pulled hard, yanking the heiress down and shocking her with the dust in her weapon. Weiss screamed and tumbled to the ground. She pushed herself to her knees, gasping for breath. Ilia retracted her whip, flourished it, and leapt at Weiss, stabbing the point of her weapon down.

Before Ilia could strike the final blow, something dark flew across the bottom of her field of vision, trailing a thin line behind it. A ribbon coiled around her upper body, binding her arms to her side. She felt herself stop, then travel backward in midair. She slammed into the ground, and spots filled her vision as her head snapped back into the floor. Blinking, she followed the ribbon across the floor behind her. Blake held the other end taut, her trance only creased by mild concern. Ilia's eyes widened. From the opposite direction, she heard a dry, prim laugh.

"Every truly great Schnee finds a new use for their glyphs, increasing the power of our descendants' Semblance," Weiss said, stroking her rapier as she walked forward. "My contribution was a hypnotic glyph. It takes some time for it to work, especially on someone as stubborn as Blake, but once someone's mine, they're mine for good."

Weiss placed the tip of her blade at Ilia's throat, lifting her chin. "I could just have her strangle you, but I don't want to sully my bride's hands the night before our wedding. Any last words?"

Ilia felt her eyes well up. She looked back at Blake with pleading eyes, but Blake barely registered Ilia's presence.

"Blake, this isn't you. You're stronger than this. I know you won't betray me for a Schnee. Please don't do this, I love you so much!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Not the most original or eloquent last words, but I've heard worse."

With the slightest thrust of her wrist, Weiss drove the point of her sword into Ilia's throat. But instead of a piercing sensation, Ilia felt like she'd been pushed off a cliff, and she fell, plummeting down into darkness.

…

Ilia struck the floor with a soft thump. She tore at the blankets until she could sit upright. She looked around for a second, disoriented. Then it all came back: Travelling to Atlas after the Battle at Haven, a brief legal scuffle to give Weiss control of the Schnee mansion for their group's use, and being granted one of the few single rooms—one that happened to be sandwiched between Qrow's and Yang's, the latter of whom was snoring quite loudly. Ilia briefly recounted her dream. Then she pressed her face into her hands and moaned.

"God, I need to get laid."

…

Unable to fall back asleep, Ilia wandered the halls of the mansion. She felt naked doing so unarmed. Weiss had instructed her servants to treat all of them as honored guests, but this was still The Schnee Mansion. You didn't just forget the things that family had done, despite the kindness of a few members.

But forgetting isn't an issue, if you've never known, Ilia thought as she wandered into the dining room.

"Oh hey!" Sun said, waving from his seat.

Ilia narrowed her eyes at Sun. "What are you doing—and why are you wearing that?"

Sun had a platter of exotic fruit in front of him and was wearing a white velour bathrobe over his pants.

"I'm having a midnight snack. And the question is why aren't you wearing the fancy bathrobe from your room?"

Ilia scoffed and turned to leave. One of Sun's clones appeared in front of her, scratching its chin curiously but not forcing her to stay.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Ilia debated walking away. Then she sighed, turned around, and took a seat to Sun's right. "I had a weird dream."

"White Fang flashbacks?" he asked.

"No. I—"

Ilia stopped. Even with Sun's forgiveness and her contribution at Haven, the trust she'd established with the group was a delicate thing. If she divulged this, would she tarnish what little faith the group had in her intentions? Or would they assume she'd act like a jilted lover again at the first opportunity? She clenched her fists. This was going to tear her apart if she didn't say it to someone. Sun was far from the perfect person to talk about this for several reasons, but he was the best option she had.

"I had a dream that I was fighting Weiss."

"That's normal for most people," Sun said around a mouthful of mango. "Even ones who aren't Faunus."

"We were fighting over Blake," Ilia said, quieter.

Sun set down the mango and turned to Ilia. "Oh."

"Yeah. It's not even the first time I've had this dream, just the first time with Weiss. Other times they've involved the other members of Blake's team, you, Adam—there was a really weird one where I was fighting alongside that girl with the hammer; she was fighting Blake while I fought her boyfriend. They've been happening since Haven. Now that we don't have an impending terrorist attack to stop, my thoughts are wandering elsewhere."

"Does Blake know about this?"

"No, and you can't tell her! We talked about things on the boat, and after she reunited with her team, but she doesn't know about the dreams. She can't. She has already been more generous than I deserve, if she finds out—"

"Ilia," Sun said. "How long have you been carrying a torch for Blake?"

Ilia coughed and looked away.

"So a pretty long time," Sun said. "You can't expect to move on overnight. Your head might say 'Let it go', and your heart might say it too, but your heart's also going to be a jerk and refuse to move on—and the part of you that wants to pin her to a wall and tongue-wrestle her is never going to shut up, even if it gets quieter over time."

Ilia flashed bright pink and leaned onto the table, burying her head in her arms. "Am I really that transparent?"

Sun snorted. "Nah, I'm a guy. I've gone through this plenty of times—though not with the complications you have."

Ilia looked up. "You don't think this makes me a bad person?"

"Have you tried to steal her clothes or peek at her in the shower?"

"No," Ilia said, glaring at Sun.

"Then I don't see a problem. People think thoughts that make them feel guilty all the time, you're not a bad person unless you actually act on them." Sun looked around, making sure no one else had woken up, then leaned in towards Ilia. "Perfect example: Every time Weiss nags someone, I imagine waiting until she's asleep, then drawing big angry eyebrows on her face with a marker."

Ilia laughed. A smile crossed Sun's face, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You're fine. I'm not going to lie, it'll suck for a while, but someday you're going to find a nice girl who's into skinny ninja gymnasts, and you'll be disgustingly cute together."

Ilia returned his smile and traded grips with him. "Thank you Sun."

"Anytime. I won't tell Blake about this. I think she'd understand, but that doesn't mean she'd be comfortable talking about it."

Ilia nodded in agreement. Sun nudged the platter towards Ilia. She picked a peach from the platter and bit into it. Sun returned to his mango.

"So I guess all that's left is to set you up with a smoking hot Faunus girl."

Ilia coughed, almost choking on the peach. "Please don't! I'm not a casual hookup kind of person—not usually."

"It can be more traditional," Sun said. "I'm not sure I'd trust Ruby, but Yang and Weiss might know someone who'd be into you."

"I am not comfortable with that. Weiss has been friendly, but I'd feel weird having a Schnee play matchmaker for me. And I'm pretty sure Yang hates my guts."

"Nah, she doesn't."

"To be honest, I kinda did for a little bit."

Ilia darted behind Sun's chair, her skin turning black. She peeked from behind him to see Yang leaning against the doorway, her arms folded.

"What are you doing up?" Sun asked.

Yang tapped where her prosthesis joined what remained of her arm. "Phantom limb pain. I don't get it often, but when I do it wakes me up." She walked around the table and sat in the chair to the right of Ilia's. Ilia slowly settled back into her chair, moving it slightly closer to Sun.

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"Most of it," Yang said. She gave Ilia a little smile. "Enough to revise my opinion of you. You're not trying to sneak into a relationship through the back door—or horribly betray us—you actually want to be a good friend to Blake. I'm sorry I didn't trust you sooner, but I've been short on trust recently."

"Even if you weren't, I deserved it."

"Not anymore!" Yang hooked an arm around Ilia's shoulder. "Let me make it up to you. Sun's right, I have a couple leads if you're interested."

Ilia's stomach churned. She felt hesitant relief at Yang's unexpected acceptance, but she also felt terrified at the prospect of meeting someone else. What if the other person didn't accept her? What if Ilia's past scared her away? And beneath it all, screaming louder than the other questions, what if she was throwing away her chance at being with Blake?

No, a voice inside her said. She's still your best friend. That will never change, but it will never grow past that either. If you really care about her, you know what to do.

Ilia focused on that voice, ignoring the others. "I'd say I'm very interested. Thank you."

Yang grinned. "Thank me at the six-month reunion. I don't know how well you two will click yet."

Ilia drew back, blinking. "Wait, you know someone in the group who's—like me?"

"No, but she's from Atlas. One important question before we proceed: Would you feel weird going on a date with another cat Faunus?"

This piece was originally a one-shot with a throwaway joke line at the end. But, ideas have a strange way of evolving. After a brief discussion with a friend on Discord, an idea occurred to me: Could I write Neon of all people seriously, especially in a crack ship like this? The rest is history.