A/n My first attempt at some angst.
Title: Ice Sculptures
Rating: T
Warnings: Major character death; Survivor's guilt
Pairings: Freezerburn
A nightgown and a braided shawl did little to protect against the frigid wind of a late autumn night. Even her flowing hair, free from the confines of its usual lopsided ponytail, could not stop the cold from seeping into her bones, the heiress curling further into herself in a vain attempt to gather what sliver of warmth her tiny body did produce.
Weiss had forgotten what it felt like to hate the cold.
An aura of freezing ice tended to do that. For as long as she could remember snowflakes and frost had been her comfort, the only wonder in her otherwise regimented world. Early in life they had been her playthings, a way to manifest her dreams into physical form. Then, later-once the heiress had learned that the world did not hold the same beauty as her picture books, and that a monster could easily share the same face as a man- the cold had soothed her. Numbed her to the core so that none of it mattered. Made it so that she could go about her day as expected, perform as expected, and excel in everything as demanded.
Nights like these had been her favorite back then. Only when the temperature plummeted did she ever risk slipping out of bed, shawl in hand and eyes wary for anyone who would tattle. Most people would've balked at the very idea of walking barefoot through the snow, but Weiss always found comfort in it. The silence of the night luring her to a world far away from the sneering looks and false smiles. White flakes blanketing her mind, body, and soul. All thoughts and sounds muffled by the frigid air. In this little universe, occupied by only herself and the falling snow, Weiss had been safe. Content, almost, to let the ache in her heart fade away until it was nothing more than an absent dream. All visions and worries of the future smothered as everything froze around her. It hadn't been perfect, but it had been her escape. The one and only thing that belonged to her and her alone, a kingdom of isolation that only Weiss would ever know.
At least until they had shown up. Weiss shackled with three of the most annoying girls the heiress had ever encountered within her first twenty-four hours at Beacon.
For someone as orderly and efficient as Weiss, the chaos of those first weeks of Beacon had nearly been enough to drive her mad. She had tried to keep her distance, maintain the respectful relationship required by partners and teammates. But they had shattered every barrier she had thrown up; kind words and honest natures creating cracks in her previously untouchable mask.
Because of them Weiss had learned what it truly meant to be warm. Friendship was a new and slightly terrifying thing for the heiress, and she had blundered terribly on more than one occasion. Each failure leaving her fearful that her newfound companions would retreat and leave her all alone again; her snappiness with every incident rising as she prepared herself to be left behind. Except they hadn't. If anything, all Weiss' mistakes seemed to do was forge their bond stronger. Ruby's laughter, Blake's smile, and Yang's hugs finally tearing down the last of the icy wall Weiss had spent so long constructing.
Not that Weiss had fought that hard. She had spent far too many nights alone and in the cold. Now that she knew what it felt like to be well and truly embraced for who she was, and not who she was expected to be, the heiress had no intention of returning to her old isolation. Difficulty bonding or not, Weiss had found her way. Had forgotten the cold she had once called her friend in favor of true companionship.
Only it hadn't forgotten her. Honestly, Weiss should've known that loneliness still lurked about, keeping the happiness of her current life balanced on a hair trigger. Beacon spoke of many promises to its students, but survival to graduation had never been one of them. Except everyone always forgot that little piece of information, Weiss included. Pride made a wonderful blinder, after all, and only one person in the entirety of the school held more of it than her.
Not anymore, not anymore.
The wind changed, shivers rattling her entire body as it blasted her from the front. Myrtenaster weighted heavily in her trembling fingers, the heiress loathe to do anything besides clutch it close to her chest. Second year or not, the forests around Beacon were still dangerous to travel alone, especially in the dead of night. Grimm lurked in even the tiniest of shadows, and although Weiss had seen no sign of life outside her own frosty breathing, she refused to let her guard down. Not again, not after the terrible price her last mistake had cost. Even if she was the only one around to suffer from it, Weiss just couldn't fail again. She owed that much, at least. Yang would never forgive her if she died now.
Or would she? At least then Weiss would be able to see the brawler again—silly or not, she absolutely refused to believe that there existed nothing past this life; Yang's fire simply burned too brightly to be snuffed out so easily—and face her wrath in person, so to speak. Wasn't that what Yang had always said? Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, or something of that ilk. It had been Yang's favorite excuse for whenever she did something not strictly allowed. Which, honestly, included everything the brawler did. From late night escapades to distasteful pranks, the blonde had chanted that quote like a protective charm; the words supposedly making it impossible for anything to ever truly go wrong.
Dust, the brute had even had the audacity to say it right after she had kissed Weiss for the first time. Then again, the phrase had certainly taken on a new meaning when it was whispered against her lips, uncertainty creeping into bright lilac eyes as Yang had stuttered her excuse. Weiss may have taunted her for it, of only because of how rarely she saw the boisterous brawler blushing like an innocent schoolgirl, but the heiress had been a little to busy trying to contain her own flushing cheeks, tongue heavy and mind refusing to formulate a response. Not the perfect start to a relationship, but the two of them were a far cry from the iconic figures in some overdone fairytale. Besides, Weiss had quickly learned that she preferred their antagonistic romance to anything she had read about in her old books. Yang was the fire to her ice. The flaming contrast to her frozen world. Two elements, both so different that anyone who looked upon them claimed that there was no balance to be found. No common ground that they could ever stand upon.
Except they both burned.
Burned with passion. With longing and desire. Emotions blazing with equal ferocity from both their hearts, even as their methods of expression differed vastly. In Yang she had found a kindred spirit. One who would never back down no matter how many times Weiss pushed her away, and one that could match her in all her fury. Through Yang, Weiss had learned what the stories meant by fire dancing under her skin, molten lava searing through her veins as she cried out in ecstasy.
Or what it was like to be engulfed in a firm embrace, heat radiating from a tender smile and comforting murmurs vibrating against her ear while she descended from her high.
After that, Weiss had never thought she'd know the cold again.
But she did, and she had only herself to blame. It was her mistake that had caused this, her damn error that led to her walking around alone in the darkness, body shaking under the onslaught of the same bitter temperature that had once been her faithful guardian. The icy breeze freezing everything except her aching heart. And why should it? Weiss had forsaken its numbness a long time ago. The cold owed her no favors anymore. The heiress had chosen a life outside of its solitary prison, and she could no longer return. No matter how much she may have wanted to.
Dust, she really wanted to.
A week was not nearly long enough for most to form any kind of habit, and yet Weiss' feet moved on even as her mind wandered, carrying her along an invisible path through the forest and to the edge of a clearing. Nonsensical to anyone other than her, she followed it through jagged lefts and random rights, never once straying in the wrong direction. This was not the first time she had walked this way, nor would it be the last. Weiss suspected that she would never be able to rid her mind of this forest, every detail etched into the fabric of her memory for all time. It was only fair, after all, considering that she had left her own permanent mark upon this place. And she hadn't been the only one.
Several trees lay broken and rotting on the ground, their trunks sliced with an unnaturally smooth cut.
A thunderous roar echoed through the forest around them. Red flashing by her vision as Ruby moved, her scythe swinging in a devastating arch through the greenery. "Slow it down! We have to slow it down!"
Weiss stepped over them with ease, her hand brushing against the scarred bark for only a moment as she passed. To the untrained eye the small notches were nothing more than abnormalities, unimportant features that all trees bore. But Weiss knew better. She could see the precise angle of the deep rivets, the exact point where a shallow blade had ripped away from its anchor.
"Ruby!" Black ribbons twirled through the air, carrying a lithe body into position behind them. One nod from a brunette head told them all they needed to know, Weiss' fingers tightening around the hilt of her weapon in preparation for what came next.
Even now the heiress mimicked the action, breath quickening and hands twitching as she passed the makeshift field. But no monsters jumped out at her this time, just like they hadn't every other night she had made this trip.
The sound of rushing water reached her ears only seconds before they came crashing through the tree line. Weiss spun on her heel the instant they reached the riverside, thumb flicking across Myrtenaster's chamber and sending it spinning. Feet apart, chin up, and head held high as she stared down the approaching monstrosity. Staying steady although every instinct screamed at her to run. Flee before she was trampled. But the heiress held firm, body tense and waiting for her partner's signal.
"Now!"
No new noise greeted her as she finally exited the forest. The night was silent, air empty save for the howling of the wind and her ragged breathing. Relentless now that it remained unbroken by thick branches, the chilling gale whipped past her, its intensity sending ripples across the surface of the shallow pond. Weiss only shuddered in response, body bowing nearly in half as she trudged on.
Inhale. Focus. Don't look away from the target. Trust the others to be where they need to be.
Fire raced down her rapier, Weiss' stare unwavering as she lunged forward. One sweep of her arm and a wall of flames rose between her and the grimm, the massive beast's shriek of pain rocking Weiss to her very core. But then another shout joined the fray, Yang letting out a bellowing war cry as she surged from the flames like a phoenix rising from its ashes. Ruby and Blake appearing beside her as they all leapt into action against their foe.
Once full of fierce rapids, the previously flowing river had died in favor of a growing lake. Each day the edge of the water grew further. Each night Weiss having to take fewer steps before the bottoms of her slippers soaked through. In another week, possibly two, this entire area would be overrun, the sheer volume of water running from upstream turning everything into a swampy mess.
Not she would stop visiting. This was her landmark, after all.
It hadn't worked. Damnit the plan hadn't worked. Instead of killing the beast they had only made it furious, fangs and claws and limbs lashing out with ferocious intention. Put on a struggling defensive, it was all Team RWBY could do to stay alive.
And they were barely managing that.
Something hot and wet poured into her eye, Weiss blinking as fast as she could to clear her now red vision. One moment. She needed one moment. Half a second to catch her breath and gather her strength after expending so much energy on glyphs and dust. Just one moment.
But a moment was all it took.
Weiss had no interest in the circumference of the pond. Her interest lay in its center, and no matter how far the distance, she never hesitated to cross it. A twitch of her fingers, a jerk of her hand, and a trail of glyphs appeared across the shimmering surface. She stumbled a bit as she went to step up onto them, needlepoints shooting into her feet as she forced them faster, insistently jumping from one archaic mark to the next.
"Yang!"
A scream, high and terrified, made Weiss jolt in surprise. Her head jerked back to the battle, the heiress already moving when she saw a razor-like tail whip around as fast a lightning, bloodying an already heaving Yang further and sending her soaring through the air. Weiss' eyes went wide with horror as she raced to intercept her, stop the blonde's trajectory before she fell into the broiling waters near them. Time slowed to a crawl, Weiss seeing everything in slow motion as she jumped, glyphs forming wildly in her desperate attempt to reach her lover in time.
Too slow. Too slow, too late, too everything. If only Weiss had still been in the air. Had she been moving, catching Yang would've been no problem. She may have even been able to prevent that devastating blow before it happened.
Yang's arch peaked, another scream eclipsing the sounds of battle as she descended, headed straight for the rapids below. With another panicked shout Weiss mustered every last bit of power she had left and launched herself at the brawler, their bodies colliding violently together just in time to crash into the rushing river.
Weiss only realized it was her who had been screeching when water flooded her lungs.
The small, rolling waves underneath only served to make Weiss move faster, the heiress stiffening as old fear reverberated through her even though she remained perfectly safe above the drifting current. Casting one wary glance below, just in case, she returned her focus to the glowing structure ahead, eyes squinting against the rough contrast of pale white on dark shadows. Two more leaps and she reached it, one hand unclenching from her rapier's hilt and extending outwards to touch the smooth, reflective surface.
Chaos erupted around her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, fingers locking around Myrtenaster's hilt and Yang's jacket, the heiress tumbling and sinking and slamming until she couldn't tell up from down. For one, terrifyingly short second her head was above water, Weiss barely sucking in a gasping breath before she was dragged back under, Yang's limp weight pulling her further into the dark depths. But Weiss refused to let go. She needed to get them out of here, pull them both up to the surface before it was too late. A glyph would do it. Dust, at this point it didn't matter what direction it shot them in she just had to get them-
A rock came out of nowhere, her head cracking painfully across it and stars dancing at the edge of her vision. Her mouth opened in a wordless cry, Weiss choking instantly on the surrounding liquid.
Yang jerked in response, body tearing out of her grip as she suffocated, Weiss' heart seizing in terror as she fumbled blindly to catch her again.
She just had to….
No cloth met her seeking fingers, ice blue eyes flying open in alarm, searching vainly through the tumultuous current.
get them…
Gold flashed to her left, adrenaline surging through her veins, muscles straining, and lungs burning as Weiss fought to right herself. To get to Yang before she got any further. She had to get to her before it was too late.
to safety.
Like a repeating nightmare, Weiss watched from far away as she struggled, seemingly going nowhere and everywhere at the same moment. But Yang remained forever out of reach until she vanished from sight, Weiss' very soul quaking in response, aura flaring to life at her distress, instinct driving the heiress into action, pointer finger squeezing around Myrtenaster's trigger, Weiss doing the only thing she had ever known to do when scared out of her mind and left with no other options.
Freeze.
Literally.
For as much as it resembled ice, the solidified representation of her soul had never felt as cold as the real deal. In fact it almost pulsed with warmth, thrumming to life at her touch. The logical part of her mind told Weiss that the ice was only resonating with her, reflecting back only what it saw. But another, deeper, more innocent piece chose to interpret it as a greeting. The last embers of a dead flame offering her some meager comfort.
"Hello, love." Pressing her palm fully against the spiky formation, Weiss refocused so that she could see past its milky-clear surface. There, dead center, laid Yang. Or her body, anyway, but Weiss still hadn't gotten used to referring to the brawler in past tense.
She hoped she never did.
It was bad enough that they couldn't even bury her. Honestly, Weiss couldn't even remember anything after the flare of her aura—except the tranquilizing sensation of being lifted into the air, everything around her freezing into white stones, her eyes alighting on the limp form of her lover just in time to see her encased forever—but whatever she had done was enduring, so powerful that nothing in the world appeared capable of breaking it. Kind of like the everlasting nightmare Weiss now found herself apart of.
Her glyph dissolved, Weiss stepping from the magical floor and onto one of her sculpture's many prominent protrusions. At least the massive thing protected her from some of the wind. Standing a solid ten feet from the ground- base spreading out further than a nevermore's wingspan and thickness ensuring that no current would ever pass smoothly through the river bed again—it sheltered her, as dutiful in its protection as the person it contained.
One step and a duck and Weiss tucked herself into the crevice that had formed back when she first made the block of ice. Perfectly the ice surrounded her, engulfing her in the freezing echo of her lover's embrace. Not that it did anything to soothe the agony in her heart. If anything it only made her feel worse, more memories flooding through the heiress' mind as she huddled closer.
Blake's absolute look of despair as she held a sobbing Ruby, the redhead dissolving into frantic cries at the mere sight of Weiss.
A gentle tsk from the school's nurse as she tended to Weiss' broken hands. "Oh honey, your hands look like a brawler's, what with how scarred they are."
Her shock at Weiss' reply that they were as bloody, too.
That first terrible night when Yang's sheets stopped smelling like flowers and ash, and more like the salty tears that had soaked her bed.
All of the questions, endless and enduring. Professors and student's alike trying to find out how she did it, sparing no thought to her feelings in their quest for answers. A few had tried to be kind, claiming that it Yang had already been dead before she had frozen. But Weiss knew better. She still saw the startled flash of orange and red every time she closed her eyes, the brief conflict of another's weak soul fighting against hers and losing haunting her broken dreams.
Whimpering, Weiss shoved the thoughts away. Guilt had already twisted her gut into a painful knot; she didn't need to add to it by recalling the suffering of her past days. After all, she had enough to torment herself with right here. Eyes once again finding the still body underneath the ice, Weiss let them rove over a pale face and golden locks, a hand coming to rub at the throbbing ache in her chest. Yang's eyes were, mercifully, closed. Even though Weiss desperately wanted to look into those lilac orbs again, she didn't think she could handle seeing them as dull and listless as the brawler's skin had become, her previously glowing tan fading into a murky grey.
A beam of moonlight streamed from the clouds, the gentle light sending her giant crystal aglow. Weiss looked to the sky with a curious eye, noting the position and angle of Remnant's moon.
She needed to leave soon. Blake was meeting with her new partner tomorrow, and Ruby would no doubt wake up crying from some nightmare or another tonight. Weiss owed it to both of them to be there, whether it to be there to sing softly to their mourning leader, or to give the cat the final push out the door so that she would stop putting this off. But she wouldn't go yet. No, these trips were her time to be selfish. Time for her to lay back and reflect upon all her mistakes, about all the things she should've done to stop this from happening.
Time for her to curl into the ice, shawl wrapped close around her body and forehead pressed into the blurry reflection of Yang, tears streaming down her face, splashing uselessly against the smooth surface as Weiss sought for something, anything, to help her remember how to not hate the cold.