Chapter 2: A Family's Mystery
Dressed for the chill known to the northern climate, they headed out on foot.
The streets were carefully clear of snow and ice. Grounds keepers spending every bit of energy to clean the unsightly dust riddled snow that caked the sides of the streets and pathways. Small bits of sidewalk salt crunched underfoot to further clean the walkways. Warming stations and roadside barista stalls offered hot drinks to keep the chilly weather at bay.
Weiss ordered a coffee, while Blake ordered tea. Unsurprisingly, Blake murmured that it was overpriced, but Weiss didn't even look at the menu for the price, handing over her credit card without a care how expensive it might be. It was the same thing she did at the downtown piano bar.
They stopped at one of the smattering of greenhouses in the area. Some housed playground equipment, while others catered to the docile elderly looking for a peaceful place to sit. Some even housed exotic birds native to other areas around Remnant. This one provided a newsstand inside among the foliage and several places to sit and read. Once again that credit card came out, and once again, Blake cringed at the expenditure.
Weiss walked past several of establishments of refinery, but didn't even bat an eye in their direction. Meanwhile, Blake felt herself captivated by the shimmery jewelry stores, stones catching the sunlight perfectly. Gems twinkling from behind protective glass and colored lightbulbs. Obscenely expensive dress shops only added to the crazy implication that some people actually chose to live this way. The Faunus managed to catch a price tag attached to one vibrantly green prom dress.
It might have been made for a wealthy student, but she thought the price was absolutely crazy. Worse yet, there was a partner tuxedo, the suit itself a perfect midnight black. The viridian green gemstone cufflinks and matching tie was what brought the partnered ensemble together. She regretted glancing at it, feeling her stomach turn as the cardboard with the exorbitantly priced six digit number dangled limply from the magnificent fabric.
"Who in the hell buys this stuff?" Blake found herself murmuring, quite to her own displeasure. The sound of the shop's bell rang out as a few teenagers entered. Blake couldn't keep herself form gawking even if she tried.
Weiss turned back, taking a glance at Blake. Seeing quickly what amber eyes were so keen to scrutinize, smiling softly as the affluent world once again caused the Faunus to feel misplaced amongst it. "Teenagers would buy something like this without hesitation."
"They can afford that?!"
"Of course they'd be able too, and it would even be encouraged if they were being set up on dates, I would imagine." Weiss smiled softly, this store had always been one of her favorites as a girl. "This one in the window, that's considered a cheap dress. It's not of particularly high quality, at least, not in my eyes."
"Bullshit." Blake hissed under her breath.
Weiss only smiled softly at the somewhat murderous glare that the Faunus gave the articles of clothing. "It's just your typical prom dress, worn mostly on dates fit for your average sixteen year old. You'll notice, those are mass produced. There are identical dresses and suits on the racks, same cut and style, different color. There's no name attached to them, meaning they aren't original. My own wardrobe was filled with plenty of attire just like that."
"And you don't own any of it now?" Blake said, ears flattening and cramping under her bow as a result. She winced, hating the drag of the fabric.
"No, it wouldn't be considered appropriate." Weiss replied softly. "If I were to go on a date, I should be wearing attire that my bank account reflects. These don't do me any justice. As an adult woman, it would be expected that I would have original made. If you recall, I mentioned that I knew Coco Adel very well. The reason for this is that it remains mutually beneficial for the both of us that I call her for original dresses."
Blake frowned. "We're the same age, and I'd wear one of those ones in the window now…well, if I could afford one, anyway. Damn, they're expensive." She said, looking at the stunning patters of silk draped elegantly over the mannequin. It hardly looked fit for a teenager, at least, nothing she would have worn as a youth. A long slit up the side of one of the dresses had been cut at an impossibly high angle. There were even dresses with plunging necklines, and open back dresses. "I'm all for positive self-image and all of that, but those dresses are a little much."
"No, I think they're just enough." Weiss murmured, her eyes lingering on one dress in particular, a frown coming to her face. Unpleasant memories clawing their way to the surface. Thankfully, Blake didn't seem to notice.
"Hell, If I'd worn something like that as a teenager, my father would have had a heart attack."
To this Weiss only laughed, turning on her heel to keep walking, leaving Blake to catch up to her. "Modesty isn't exactly a concern when you're trying to attract the attention of single men." Then with a somewhat deprecating little smirk cast Blake's way, her words turned dark. "Even if you are betrothed, married, or otherwise spoken for, there are any number of reasons a teenage girl might want to have an affair. Even if for no other reason than to break off an engagement that they didn't want in the first place."
Blake found herself making the obvious mental leap that Weiss had expected her to. Yet, it wasn't the sort of discussion that the two of them could have in public place. Most certainly not on a busy street where anyone might hear it. It didn't stop the Faunus from growling soundlessly under her breath, though. The Faunus bit her tongue, knowing better than to ask, Weiss not kind enough to offer any further details on the disturbing insinuation.
Silence fell over them, further drowning Blake in the possibly unhappy realities cloaking over the woman's history. As a Schnee, it really could have been anything. Wisely, Blake chose to set it aside, not because she wasn't curious, but because she dreaded the answer.
To the credit of whatever deity was taking pity on her, Blake noticed that people passing by didn't even look at her as she continued to follow Weiss. To them she was just a poor, working class citizen. A nothing woman probably passing by on her way to the nearest bus station. The bow on her head was a perfect cover, so long as she kept her ears from fluttering around.
If only they knew the truth...
Blake and Weiss first stopped at a uniform supply store. Even here, attire was impossibly high. Students of the prestigious Atlas Academy waited in one line. Students of several preparatory schools waited in another. In an entirely different waiting area, many older men, and some younger ones pressed buttons on glass tablets, sorting through all kinds of apparel.
In another room, women did the same. Sales associates sat placidly behind desks, waiting for people to make the proper selections so that they could be taken to private dressing rooms and fitted accordingly.
Weiss introduced Blake to one such woman before setting herself up with another.
The Faunus hated being measured for properly tailored clothing. That ordeal, in and of itself, was another hallmark of high class living. While she blushed and fumbled her way through her measurements in her underwear, Weiss seemed hardly bothered by the handling of attendants who measured her for another perfectly white blazer and skirt combination.
Casual wear, Weiss called it. Blake vividly recalled the way Weiss wore such things on her Friday nights.
Blake wanted to see that same woman now, catching a glimpse of the Weiss she knew under that haughty attitude. In fact, Weiss was alluring when she stood there so carefree, as if nothing could have shattered her composure. The thin privacy screen between them hardly enough to save Blake's sanity from that slender silhouette.
After Blake had been measured, Weiss made her orders for the clothing she wanted Blake to have. Although Blake couldn't see the check that Weiss had written, the heiress assured her that the uniforms weren't coming out of her new, incredibly inflated salary.
After that, it was a trip to the grocery store, where Blake found herself carrying two small plastic bags of simple ingredients. Somehow, she had expected more. She had assumed that Weiss would pile things into the cart as if Blake were her own personal pack mule. Some part of her assumed that Weiss had been expecting the Faunus to carry it all home without complaint.
Certainly, that's how many saw Faunus. Weiss would not have been the first, or the last, to have asked that of Blake.
All of Blake's prior jobs were riddled with heavy cargo, back breaking labor, and dangerous situations. As a huntress, she was no stranger to the complexities of hard work. She had spent many nights protecting dust shipments from thieves. She spent many more days hauling back stolen shipments once they were found. Truth be told, such thankless tasks were one reason of many to hate being a huntress.
As Blake adjusted her grip on the plastic bags in her hands, she had to remind herself for the umpteenth time that Weiss was not so disrespectful. They had a friendship that extended beyond what might be considered appropriate. At least, when it came to Weiss and her all too affluent world. The fact that the woman willingly chose to carry the box of coffee cake in her own two hands bore testament to this.
Once they returned home, Blake found her cooking skills to put to the test for dinner. Weiss offered offhanded comments on where to find certain utensils, spices, and silverware. The request for a grilled chicken salad wasn't particularly difficult, but Blake couldn't say she was used to it. Greenery was always hard to come by, and so she avoided eating salads due to their obvious expense.
She could count on one hand the number of produce that she thought to be affordable, all of them being fruits that came imported from Vale in gigantic quantities.
Having never once prepared a salad, or dressing for that matter, she could only hope that the recipe she found in a dusty cookbook would suffice. It had been stowed away in the pantry, the pages yellowed, yet strangely crisp. As if it hadn't been used more than once or twice despite its age. Blake carried the plate to the clear glass table, smooth edges tapering off to a thin gold finish that ran around the outside edge.
"I hope you like it." Blake said, sliding the plate gingerly in front of Weiss. It wasn't much to look at, at least, not in her opinion. "I'm uh, not exactly a great cook."
"It'll do." Weiss said with a wave of her hand. "I'm no cook myself. I used to eat at the mansion, or survive on takeout. My trash used to be riddled with boxes from all the restaurant in the greater downtown area." Then she smiled down at thee food. "I can see by the looks of this that such meals won't be entirely out of the question in the future."
"You'd eat out that often with your figure?" Blake said, honestly impressed. "You must have amazing metabolism."
"It helps that I sometimes forget to take a meal at all." Weiss replied then, an afterthought coming to mind. "Oh, speaking of forgetfulness, I neglected to mention that you'll have to sit in here to eat. I don't permit meals in the living area, not even snacks."
"As if I was going to eat anywhere else?" Blake suggested casually with an upraised eyebrow.
"Under different circumstances, you would, yes." Weiss replied as she took a sip of sparkling cider that she had been enjoying while Watching Blake prepare her food. "Here, it's unavoidable, and I don't mind the informality. However in much larger houses, the hired help normally eat in a separate area. You may be expected to do so if we ever attend such a gathering. In my father's household, you'd be dining with Klein. If I were you though, I'd take that as a compliment. Klein usually makes for wonderful company."
"You mean your father's butler." The Faunus woman pieced together slowly.
"He's an older gentleman. He has served the family for quite some time. Actually, I don't ever recall a time in my life when he wasn't in service to the household."
"I guess that makes sense…"
"Don't look so glum." Weiss said then. "Sit down and eat. Salad is best enjoyed while the greens are crisp."
Blake flicked her gaze back over to the second plate, the one she had made for herself. Silently cursing the fact that she had even made it in the first place. She gathered her food and drink, sitting down in the chair across from Weiss. The two of them ate in silence for a long time. Blake wasn't used to it. Not from her own drab apartment building, or from Weiss herself.
It seemed that in sobriety, Weiss was quiet, withdrawn, perhaps even a little more uppity than Blake would otherwise like.
Not being able to stand the wordlessness any longer, Blake cleared her throat. "So, you said you had a sister?"
"Yes, an older sister." Weiss said as her salad fork hug poised over the meal in front of her.
It wasn't the best salad she had ever had. It obviously lacked visual appeal, the greenery appearing as if it had been hacked at, rather than expertly chopped and plated to be a fest for the eyes. The dressing was a tad salty, and the taste was notably blander than she might expect. However, Weiss found little to truly complain about, seeing as the chicken itself was cooked appropriately. Moist and delicate, with just the slightest seasoning of salt, pepper, and garlic.
"How much older is she?" Blake asked, once again making noise where there otherwise wouldn't be any.
Weiss had not expected to have her dinner interrupted with idle chatter. Upon reflection, she rarely at dinner with anyone outside of her family. She had been raised to enjoy the idea of companionable silence, seeing as it was one of the few times her family refused to argue. The dinner table promising an unspoken truce for any current drama befalling the family.
Even when they did gather around at the table to chat, they certainly didn't speak to great lengths. Idle banter was pointedly ignored, nonsense entirely forbidden in the dining room. Formal gatherings offered some polite conversation here and there, but that came with an agenda and a goal. Neither of those things were currently present at the table between them.
As far as Weiss was concerned, they never would be.
Blue eyes glanced up to see the Faunus looking particularly uncomfortable. As though she had made some sort of grievous error that Weiss had not yet seen. It was then she recalled that Blake had always been a naturally curious woman, striking up pointless racket to fill empty voids. Although Weiss wasn't used to doing so in her own home, she would make the accommodation.
"Quite a bit older, actually. Her name is Winter." Weiss said softly, the awkwardness in her voice very real as she attempted small-talk. "She's ten years older than I am."
"She must not be very well known to the press." Blake replied, knowing the name from passing interests at best. "I don't even think there's much information about her." In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Blake realized that she had never once seen the eldest sister in any of the tabloids.
"She serves directly under Atlas's Academy headmaster. General of the Army, James Ironwood."
"Oh, what's her ranking?"
"General, at least on official paperwork." Weiss replied. "Unofficially, James uses her as a personal secretary and assistant. When deployed, she acts as the military's head huntress. This is where it gets complicated. Primarily, when things are more or less peaceful, she's a diplomat when it comes to the handling of munitions and technology for Grimm extermination."
"Well, she would certainly have the connections for that." Blake dryly noted.
"Indeed, being a Schnee does help those little details for sure." Weiss agreed. "The Atlesian military prides itself on protecting the men and women who serve. As a result, many high profile figures enjoy the luxury of press blackouts. That's what makes the military such a wonderful choice for a woman like my sister."
"Sounds rather convenient."
"Take it as you will."
"So, is your sister involved in the company at all?"
"Of course not, it would be impossible to hold any station at all within the SDC. I once made mentioned that it's inconceivable for a woman to forge her own path. It's a rarity to be sure, and Winter is one of the very few who managed to do just that." Weiss said in-between bites. "Even if there were something scandalous to say about her, the press wouldn't be allowed to give a report to the public."
She could feel Blake's discomfort. Weiss could see it reflected in the way the salad fork jittered in the woman's hand ever so slightly. The silver catching like light with every tiny quake.
"You have a little brother too though, right?" Blake asked, her voice entirely neutral. It was as though she had been squashing down any and all curiosity that wanted to escape. Even so, it was obvious that Blake was keenly awaiting what Weiss might say next. "What about him?"
"I don't know what you classify as little. He's hardly a child. Although, I suppose you really can't classify him as an adult, either." Weiss replied in a somewhat sour tone. "He does have his grubby hands on the company. That is to say, he's the one my father intends the company to go to."
"Oh." Blake said, realizing she hit a sore spot.
Weiss took another drink and busied herself with few bites of her meal. Delicately Weiss chewed each little morsel, likely an action beaten into her by the family she came from. If it was to stall for time, or merely satiate her hunger, Blake wasn't sure. The ticking clock seemed all the louder in the silence once more. The noise ominous in and of itself. Blake endured it while Weiss seemed to piece together her thoughts.
Eventually, Weiss found her voice again. "He's five years younger than I am. As a result, he had the benefit of being the baby of the family."
"That's a benefit?" Blake wondered aloud. "I'm an only child, so…"
Weiss only nodded. "He's our father's golden child, as some would say."
"Is that some hostility I'm sensing?" Blake asked jokingly, only to see Weiss roll her eyes at the accusation.
"Hardly." She barked a laugh, but the bitterness in her voice then was plain as day. "I have no need for that."
Blake's ears flicked against the harsh sensation. That clipped, almost shrill sound, was so unlike the smooth chuckle she was used to hearing. It rubbed rudely against the tender little tugs of the woman's lips, the way she would usually show her amusement.
"It would be too easy to hate him." Weiss went on to say. "Whitley has all of the advantages he could ever need, and like it or not, he cannot escape the household. My father keeps his watchful eye on his only son, you can count on that. One might even go so far as to say I'm relieved to be quantified as worthless. It gives me a measure of freedom from my father, and his overwhelming scrutiny."
A chord of self-loathing seemed to snap back into place as Weiss finished her meal. She dabbed at her lips and folded the napkin that had been on her lap, gently placing it across the table. These manners, and the accompanying refinery, were actions completely alien to the Faunus. It made everything all the more uncomfortable.
She wanted to tell the woman to loosen up a bit, to uncoil that tightly wound and bound perfectionist standard.
She wanted Weiss to be the way Blake had always known her to be. Sharp, intelligent, and well spoken. She wanted to see the woman that she knew from the bar. The woman who was almost too much to handle, a challenge of the mind, body, and soul. Ideology at war with circumstance, and willing to openly speak her mind on those complicated contours that Weiss called life. Blake wanted it so desperately, she would have done anything for a mere moment of it.
With the request sitting firmly on the tip of her tongue, Blake was about to do just that.
Instead, Weiss politely excused herself from the table. Before leaving entirely, she paused and regarded the Faunus, as if contemplating something vastly important. Whatever it was seemed to be set to the side. Weiss once again stomping something down that she seemed to want to say. She worked her lips back and forth, obviously trying to once again produce words. The woman failing so epically that even Blake could see the struggle in front of her.
Weiss caved, giving up, changing the topic instead. "After meals, you'll be expected to see to the dirty dishes. Since you'll be doing that, please prepare some decaffeinated coffee and bring it to my office when it's ready. I'll take it with a single cube of sugar, no cream."
With that request safely out in the open, the entire ordeal passed on by like an afterthought.
The Faunus watched as Weiss slipped behind her office door, but for what, Blake hadn't the slightest clue.
She suspected it was work related. The educated guess was the best she could make of it, and even that didn't seem like enough. It didn't matter, because Blake felt herself being subjected to the terribly painful silence that this apartment seemed to bring down on them. It was oppressive, she couldn't even begin to call it anything else.
From the cool tones painted on the walls, the white marble counter tops in the kitchen, the glass backsplash and white appliances. It was all too much.
It felt like she was fit to be tied, sitting in an asylum waiting to be experimented on like a test subject. For all of this white, blue, and grey madness around her, there was no comfort. No solace could be found in the sterility. Nothing but the clinical perfection and ambiance expected of an extremely wealthy person. All of the splendor, but none of the happiness to go along with it.
It was all the incentive Blake needed to make the coffee as quickly as possible, doing the dishes to the sounds of running water.
It was then, in the midst of her own racket, that Blake realized what was so problematic to her. She should have noticed it sooner, but she was glad she understood it at all. This was the sound of being cast aside. The sound of nothingness being offered up for being inadequate. The lonely retribution of a woman who so desperately wanted the attention, and ultimately had received none of it.
Did Weiss experienced a childhood the same as this too? Was it all she had ever truly come to understand? Was it normal?
Well, it wasn't normal. This was the furthest thing from normal that Blake had ever seen.
Yet, did Weiss know that? Did she think it was alright to live this way?
That last question was terrifying to consider, and Blake tore the idea into shreds by her own refusal to believe it. Instead, she set the coffee on the silver tray, something that took her no time at all. Weiss had most of the amenities it strewn across the counter. Another byproduct of being alone. Weiss had asked for it black, with a single cube of sugar. Therefore, it was exactly what Blake prepared.
She carried it to the office, managing to get the door open, even with the tray in hand. This would be a skill she would need to learn to get perfect if she had anything heavy on the tray. Bringing in meals this way would be an absolute nightmare.
"I've made your coffee." Blake said, presenting the black substance as Weiss closed the book on her desk. It looked to be some kind of photo album. Before the amber eyed Faunus could get a good look, Weiss placed the book back into one of the drawers. The woman even took the time to lock it away with a small key.
"You can leave it here. Then you can be done for the night." Weiss said as she placed out a small disk of tempered glass to rest the coffee on. "I tend to keep odd hours, and it would be rude of me to expect that you keep the same. So long as breakfast has been prepared by seven tomorrow morning, I'll have no complaints."
"I'm not really all that tired." Blake said, her gaze flicking around the room. "I don't even know what sort of work you do, really. I'm kind of curious about it."
"What I do for the company depends entirely on my father's demands." Weiss replied, looking up from her desk. "However, I'm sure such a simple statement isn't in the least bit appeasing to you, is it?"
Blake shrugged, not truly knowing how to answer that. She would have liked to know more, but didn't want to overstep her welcome. Instead, she allowed herself to appreciate the room's decor. It was furnished differently from the rest of the house. A splash of purple and dark woods warmed the room in a way that was sorely lacking everywhere else. The deep mocha colored sofa that sat in the corner of the room was just the sort of plush décor that Blake would have expected in any household.
The fabric was worn, used, and obviously loved. It was also offensive as the color clashed with everything else, an interior decorator would likely call the thing an eyesore.
"If you truly have nothing else to do, you may join me." Weiss said then as she stood up and pulled open the closet door. Inside there was a small wooden stool that looked far too old to be in one piece. The wood had chipped in some places, and cracked in others. It hardly seemed like the sort of thing Weiss would choose to keep around. Her hand slid across the seat, her palm brushing off the dust. "I was going to wait to explain most of the details. If you wish, I can do it now."
Blake hesitated as Weiss pulled out a thick stack of paperwork and a large glass tablet. Finally, Weiss displayed a portable computer terminal. Slowly, Blake sat down on the uncomfortable piece of furniture, watching as Weiss booted up the system.
"So, charity work…" Blake trailed off uneasily.
"Indeed." Weiss murmured, reaching for the warm beverage, taking a small sip, as if to make sure it was exactly as she liked it. Then she set it off to the side again, forgotten. "Before my brother was born, I was slated to inherit the company in every capacity. After he was born, I was slated to support him in every way I could. I can slip into any position my father, or brother may see fit."
"That must have been a lot to learn."
"Not as much as you might expect, no." Weiss said, as she turned to Blake, looking at her earnestly. "Honestly, delegation is where the complications begin and end for the CEO of the SDC. However, ultimately, it's my father's wish that I get married. Ideally, he'd like my future husband to maintain a position of influence while I do what every high class woman in Atlas does."
"And that would be…?"
"An insult to everything I personally see for myself." Weiss groused unhappily. "He'd expect me to sit around, sip tea, and please my future husband's every whim. My wants and desires would be entirely secondary. All of it would eventually culminate into my most important task, to raise my future children."
"That sounds incredibly…" Blake trailed off, unsure what to really think of it all. "I don't even know what…"
"Overbearing? Sexist? Idiotic? A complete waste of money and power best utilized in other places?" Weiss filled in expertly. "That's because you would be correct. It is all of those things, and more."
"Then why do it?" Blake muttered, ears smooshing down her bow.
"According to some, it's because my father acts like an idiot." Weiss expressed offhandedly, the grim sort of humor dying inelegantly between them as she sighed. "Honestly, frivolity and posturing between SDC and the military comes as a second nature nowadays. Our ties run so deep, sometimes it's hard to separate where the government ends, and the corporation begins." Weiss said, equally displeased with that thought as well.
She looked down at the smooth wood on her desk. Blake waited quietly for her to continue, the only indication that the Faunus might be restless was the way her fingers rubbed at the fabric of her pants. Fingers smoothing over non-existent creases.
"If you were to ask me, though," Weiss continued slowly, having collected her thoughts in as orderly manner as her exhaustion would allow. "I'd say it's because lesser companies need to be progressive. For them it's the only possible way to stay afloat. However, those like the SDC have no true competitor. Why be progressive, when you can uphold tradition? Not that it matters, so long as the SDC maintains the monopoly on dust, people have no choice but to acquire their supplies from us."
"Newer productions are cropping up all the time though." Blake replied. "The SDC cold be at risk now that we know even more untapped dust rests below the oceans. There might even be new kinds. Anything's possible, thanks to the aquatic conditions."
"True, but, we have our own scientific divisions too. If it were reasonable to drill that dust, we'd be doing it. Furthermore, even if someone did make a discovery, we would be the first to fund the project, our military would see to that."
"And if someone were to refuse?" Blake asked.
"Then the Atlesian military, might also refuse to offer military aid in the event of a crisis. No major world power would willingly risk that. We'd maintain our position based on that fear alone." Weiss tapped away at the screen, logging into more accounts. Finally, she turned the terminal slightly, so that Blake could better see an open spreadsheet. "Setting that colorful rant aside, however, let's talk about the charities under my current control." She then slid the mouse over each and every one. "Do these look familiar to you?"
There were a list of well-known charities on the page. Each section listed a set of contact information. There was also a basic overview of what each charity did. There were ten of them in all, a woman by the name of Willow Schnee named as the original founder. Blake bit her lip, she knew most of these charities well. They were large organizations that focused entirely on efforts that were seemingly important. "I know of them, yes."
"Obviously women of my intellect get bored fast with little to do. Many of us are goal driven, independent, and want a life outside the home. Over time it has become acceptable for women to dabble in charity work. It has become common practice. What you're looking at now exemplifies the very issue going on in the upper echelons of Atlas's esteemed one percent."
"Are you in charge of all of these?"
"I've inherited them. They were my mother's projects, but she is unable to continue overseeing their growth." It was then Weiss paused, scowling once more.
"Is she ill, or…" Blake cut herself off. "Never mind, you don't have to answer that."
"It's not as if you won't figure it out eventually." Weiss said bitterly. "We all have our vices. For me, it's my martinis. For my mother, it tends to be wine. We both drink to excessive amounts, and we would, under textbook definition, both be considered alcoholics. The difference between us is that I'm fairly functional. Meanwhile, my mother is unable to control her consumption. It would not be inaccurate to say that she spends large portions of her time inebriated simply for the sake of it."
What was Blake supposed to say in the face of all of that?
That she was sorry to hear it? That she felt bad that Weiss had to endure everything on her own? That she was sure it had to be difficult? All of it might have been true. Blake did feel and think all of those things. However, it was also a default response. One that was expected. Obligatorily stated out of pity by those weren't directly impacted by such disheartening news.
It was made worse by all of the suspicious little thoughts Blake had ever pondered about the family. She liked to think that if nothing else, she and Weiss had a bond beyond social graces.
At first, the entirety of their friendship could have been boiled down to one simple phrase; drinking buddies.
They met at the bar, talked at the bar, and that was where majority of their time had been spent. At the bar. The Faunus, always mindful of her senses, would merely sip on a drink here and there. Blake knew perfectly well that Weiss was not the same. She had seen Weiss imbibe first hand, and to do so on occasion on a level that would put her well over the legal driving limit. She has seen the hints of what might be called an addiction. She couldn't deny that.
Yet, she had also seen this same woman nurse a single martini for several hours. Weiss spending her time twiddling and toying with the toothpick in her glass as they talked about the Faunus plight.
So instead of opting for the easy, default answer, she decided to retort with a hint of her own cynicism. Something that might give the woman in front of her something to chew on. Something meaty to bite back with. Blake wanted to see a spark ignite in those blue eyes. She wanted to see that glimmer of intellect made more stunning by the strength that Weiss held dormant.
"That would explain why so many of the charities seem to act on their own, with little regard to public outcry at any given time." Blake said harshly. "It's because that's all they can do, with you two irresponsibly leading all the time."
Weiss was obviously surprised by the cruel answer. Her blue eyes lifting to look at the woman. It was such a vile accusation, and spilled from Blake's lips so easily. Weiss shook her head at that, a tiny smile toying on her lips. "You're right, they do act on their own quite a bit. I don't rightly mind. It's not as if I actually care what they do, so long at it pleases my father."
"Doesn't that make it harder on you, though?" Blake asked.
"A bit." Weiss murmured. "My father placed the charities in my hands the day I turned eighteen. A rite of passage, he called it." Weiss folded her hands onto the desk. "He was expecting me to clean up my mother's mess. She never has been good with book keeping. He thought he'd be able to distract me from the company if I had the responsibility to look over my mother's failing endeavors."
That was an understatement. The charities, most of them anyway, had been hemorrhaging money for years now. Most were swimming in debt. The only reason any of them stayed afloat was because of the gratuitous backing of the SDC. Blake had never looked into the matters too deeply, but now she knew why the company poured so much of its profits into these endeavors. "If it's any consolation, you are doing work that helps people. Even if the extent is something to be questioned, there's hope."
"Yes, well, I'm twenty-one now, and have yet to start a charity of my own. Compared to my peers, it seems as though I'm lazy." The white haired woman said. "Therefore, I've been ordered to begin one from the ground up. He expects me to do that, while simultaneously watching over my mother's old pursuits. Coming up with an idea has not been an easy task. Truthfully, I'm stumped."
Blake had no idea what compelled her to apprehend the small white mouse, or why she then closed the program and shutdown on the computer. She wasn't really sure why any of it actually bothered her. The only thing she was sure of, was that she didn't want to look at that screen anymore.
Deep down, she didn't want Weiss to, either. "We don't have to work all night. We can get up in the morning to do this."
"I am not an early riser by choice." Weiss replied. "If this bothers you, I can do it myself. You can occupy your time elsewhere."
"I'm not just your bodyguard, I'm supposed to be your personal assistant, right?" Blake asked, already knowing that to be fact, but requiring the affirmation anyway.
"Yes, that is what the paperwork says."
"Then let me assist. You need to put this down for the night. We'll address it in the morning." Blake was tired, and she knew Weiss had to be. She could see it in the dulling blue of those usually vibrant eyes. "You don't look like you've gotten much sleep."
"That's because I haven't been sleeping well." Weiss replied honestly. Rubbing her eyes, and cursing herself for the action. It just made Blake glare more sternly at her.
"Then go and get some now…" Blake urged. "Those charities will still be there in the morning."
Weiss laid there for hours, tossing and turning.
Her scroll buzzed at the rather ungodly hour. There was only one person who might call at such an obscene time, and that was only because opportunities for proper discussions rarely presented themselves otherwise. Her sister's image on the screen was as welcome as it ever, Weiss smiling in earnest, because she had waited weeks to once again receive a call from her older sister.
"Winter, oh, it's wonderful to finally hear from you! I was beginning to get worried."
"There is nothing to worry about, although I'm glad to be able to put your mind at ease." Then there was an audible pause, and a shifting of papers. "I wish a video call was plausible, but at this time, I'm just thankful to be stationed at a village with a working tower."
"I thought you'd be back on base by now…"
"I'm afraid that won't be very likely to happen any time soon. James and I have plenty to be doing, and lazing around at Atlas Academy isn't even remotely on our itinerary."
"That's a shame."
"You would think so, but I find it rather enjoyable." Winter replied lightly. "It's an honor to be making these trips. The villages and outposts surrounding the Atlesian borders are always very accommodating to travelers, particularly huntsmen and those from the military."
"You certainly speak fondly of them."
"Yes, well, they deserve the high praise often enough. Most of them are lovely, even with the hostile weather conditions that crop up from time to time. Enough about that, I called for another matter. I called the mansion today, Father tells me you've managed to acquire a new assistant."
"I have." Weiss said slowly, unsure why her sister would feel the need to bring that up. "Today was her first day on the job."
"Was she adequate?"
"for my needs, yes. Father might have something to say about it though. She wouldn't ever live up to his."
"So I've heard. He seemed very displeased when we spoke."
"When isn't he?"
"I'll let you know once I've figured that out."
The two siblings shared a laugh over that, before Winter cleared her throat. Her next few words carrying an air of gravity to them.
"He mentioned that you directly disrespected him, hiring on a Faunus worker." Winter said slowly. "Is that true, Weiss?"
"Yes, it is." Weiss said softly. "Why is that suddenly a problem? We both know I don't judge a person based strictly on race."
"I do, and I'm happy that you can be so open-minded. You certainly weren't raised to think that way." Winter told her, no anger or disappointment at all in her voice. It was oddly placid, perhaps even gentle. "Although that detail about your employee being a Faunus did stick in his craw quite a bit. Something I suspect you were aiming to achieve. You should probably try not to agitate him so much."
"If I did achieve it, all the better. It's about time he had a taste of his own medicine."
"Weiss, please don't fight with him. It doesn't end well."
"I know that."
"Good. Keep that at the forefront of your temper for next time. Weiss, I can't stay on for long. The fires need tending to, and it's my turn for night watch. I just wanted to reiterate how proud I am of you. I realize that things at home can be rather difficult at home."
"It..." Weiss sighed. "It has been difficult, perhaps too much so."
"I don't envy you, dear sister." Winter replied easily. "If ever it becomes too difficult, the military will always have a place for you. We've been very lacking in our technology and dust related departments. Falling that, we could always use more diplomats."
"I thought that was your job." Weiss scoffed.
"It is, but that doesn't negate the need for more people of our particular ilk." Winter retorted humorously. "You would be a very welcome addition. You'd be very likely to meet some very...interesting individuals."
"That huntsmen from Vale is driving you crazy again, isn't he."
"Like a thorn in my backside."
She could just imagine her sister, gritting her teeth and withholding every curse imaginable. A giggle slipped from her lips just thinking about it.
"Well, at the very least, I'm glad I could offer you some mild entertainment for my suffering. I really must go now, Weiss. Please, take care of yourself. Sleep well."
"I will. You too, Winter, take care."
As she hung up, she knew she'd just blatantly lied.
Weiss wouldn't sleep well that night. Then again, she never seemed to sleep well these days.
Her mind was too full of tiny details. Her intellect was something she hated when it conspired against any peace of mind. A lesser person would probably cast paranoia aside. They'd worry about the upcoming issues when matters arrived. They would not spend half of the night trying to come up with strategies to soften media backlash. Yet, her father had taught her well, and she didn't have a simpleton's luxury.
She didn't even have the peace of mind to shut out the darker whispers that she knew went on behind her back. To do even that much would be like admitting ignorance, and she simply couldn't do that.
Or rather, she wouldn't do that.
Instead, she watched the world below her pass on by. It was the same thing she always seemed to do from the reaches of the high rise apartment. The television wasn't nearly as interesting, and the radio was known to be full of propaganda. She could have found herself a good book, but she hadn't gone shopping for those sorts of distractions for a long time.
Truth be told, Weiss had only one hobby. She desperately avoided it on most nights, least she turn into her mother.
Weiss hated to admit it, but entire life had been reduced to this one simple scene in front of her. The people below her, all with lives likely just as significant as her own, buried under justifications her father spit out. He didn't care about them, just as she truly didn't either. They were strangers, and while she didn't view them with ill-intent, she was no humanitarian.
She was quite selfish, all things considered. What good was it to deny the cold hard facts?
The SDC had calmly cut thousands of lives away. To them, those lives were just tiny threads part of a greater web. It didn't matter what was left amongst the ashes of any of it. Faunus lives were nothing compared to the dust they gathered. Poor humans were a means to an end. Yet, when burned upon a funeral pyre, no one knew the difference. Dust, and the remains of those who died, scattered in the air much the same way.
It all glowed red before fading to black. There was no distinction.
Death and dust were both byproducts of the inhospitable world. When she thought of that, Weiss was forced to ask greater questions, and study deeper truths.
How many worthwhile lives were burned out before their time? How many innocent people had been valued as worthless? How many were just another casualty, all for the sake of a few extra lien? How many times could she rip apart her father's backwards logic? How many more times could she choose silence? How could she want to take his place? How could she even begin to do better, when she was his flesh and blood?
Those were some of the many questions that she simply didn't have the answers for. The worst part of it all, the one thing she could not deny, was that the SDC provided an invaluable service. One that could not be done away with. Without dust, Remnant wouldn't function properly as they knew it.
It was that simple, and that complicated.
In the darkness of the sky, and the glowing lights below, she couldn't help but be mystified by all of the small fractures showcased by the city. Every single time she had looked, to her, it was just a cityscape. A skyline she paid to take view of from the comfort of her own home. It was nothing more, and nothing less than that.
Blake had begun to change that perception.
The Faunus had asked Weiss to look at everything from a different angle and now, from her position, she couldn't look at the empty park benches the same way again. She couldn't look at the beauty and splendor with pride. She couldn't stare off into the vast many districts idly. Not without questioning the nature of their composure. It was horrifying how beautiful it all looked, when Weiss knew that some of it was made to torture others who were already in a difficult position.
How could she have been so blind?
It wasn't just ignorance.
It wasn't just an excuse.
It wasn't okay.
It wasn't good enough to point the blame at her father, her family, and their wealthy friends.
Weiss felt as though she had been brainwashed. That she had been tricked to think everything was made for the high class comforts. That everything was simply to live up to the immaculate expectations of the world she had been born into.
That wasn't the truth.
That wasn't reality.
It was cruelty.
She couldn't be happy this way. She couldn't allow herself to be. It wasn't alright to continue living with the wool pulled over her eyes, her hands covering her ears, and blocking out every sickening detail. Thinking about it at any length hurt. It made bile rise up and linger in her throat.
Slimy.
Disgusting.
The bitter taste was acidic on the back of her tongue.
She had washed it away with drink after drink one too many times. Weiss was tired of doing that. Of numbing those all too consuming thoughts of inadequacy. Trying desperately to come to terms with all of the responsibilities on her shoulders. The people who depended on her mother's abandoned charities, and thus, on Weiss herself. It wasn't enough for anyone. Not anymore. Weiss knew, she could never be satisfied with those second hand, half-hearted platitudes.
Especially not when her mother had long ago given up on them.
Weiss envied her little brother. In some capacity, she wanted to be him. At the very least, there were times that she wished she could have been born male. It would have better coincided with her ultimate goals, and she would have then fit into the image her father absolutely demanded. Yet, Weiss had not been born male, and her fair completion and delicate image glared back at her with those chilly blue eyes.
She could clearly see everything she could never have, all of the things she would never be, and everything she wanted so desperately to defy reflected in the glass window.
Weiss was every bit her father's bullheaded daughter. Every ounce of Weiss craved the taste of her mother's worst vice. Weiss was beautiful, if frail looking, lacking even the voluptuous curvature of her mother and her sister. She had the same dry, snarky attitude, as her brother. When she boiled everything all down to the heart of it all, she was everything she hated in her family.
A perfect example of everything she couldn't stand to be, wrapped up into a tight little packaged of enviable perfection.
Without thinking, without hesitating, she padded across the room, and beyond the threshold of the hall. Her fingers wrapping around the white brass handle. Turning the door silently, Weiss crept through the open door as Blake lay awake, book in her hand.
"Oh, hey Weiss." Blake said, amber eyes peeking up over the pages of her book. "Do you need something?"
Her chest felt heavy, her mouth so terribly try. She could feel the urge to drink dripping all the way down to her toes. That lonely desire would do nothing for her now. It wouldn't give her even a smidgen of a reprieve, and that realization annoyed her. "That depends entirely on you." Weiss forced out, unhappily concluding that she needed not to need so many things in her life.
The drinking was only one vice out of so many that had piled up in her life. All of them were excuses she didn't want, and yet, had no way to combat in the face of it all.
Blake closed her book, her keen eyes locking slowly with those icy blue orbs. So many of their exchanges were made in silence this way. As if Weiss demanded Blake to simply understand that which would not be said. If Weiss couldn't explain things, or simply chose not to, Blake was never really sure. Still, Weiss relied on that uncanny intuition that flowed so impossibly between them.
That selfsame, cocky, downright assholian intuition that had inspired the Faunus to reach out to Weiss in the first place.
Their meeting something that forcefully and abruptly changed each and every expectation that Weiss had ever had about a person. Blake openly defied it all, simply because she could. Only because she wanted to. It was mysteriously sexy, same as everything else captivating about her. Like an addiction, in a completely new way, there was an unquestionable dependency Weiss felt for this woman.
Weiss was very unwilling to let go of. Yet, in spite of that, Weiss was also lost on how to proceed. What did she say to this breathtakingly beautiful Faunus? Nothing came to mind.
The gamble Weiss took coming into Blake's room paid off, because the Faunus stood from her bed, crossing the floor slowly. "I tend to forget, humans can't see very well in the dark, can they?" Blake asked, already knowing the answer. She reached for the tall floor lamp, only for Weiss to capture the shadow of the woman's hand in her own.
"No, don't." Weiss breathed, knowing she needed to offer something more. "Leave it off."
"Uh..."
"Please just…" The words wouldn't come to her, desperately though she begged them to. "I don't want to be alone."
Blake frowned deeply, nodding ever so slightly at that single request. For some reason it didn't seem like enough. She didn't like the underlying implication, either. "Is this the part where I undress you, take you to my bed, and fuck you?" Blake murmured quietly. "That would be a little crude, don't you think? I was kidding about the whole escort thing."
As appealing as that suggestion was, Blake's obviously bitter tone made Weiss think twice about admitting that dark indulgence. She shook her head. "It would be terribly crude, not to mention wildly inappropriate." One foot slid backward, defensively protecting her position an instinct. "I didn't ask for that."
"Not yet…" The Faunus replied skeptically.
"I wouldn't." Weiss shot back.
"Don't lie to me." Blake murmured from between gently clenched teeth. "How many?"
"I don't-"
"How many women have had a taste, huh?" Blake asked again, this time pulling Weiss close to her.
Weiss sighed at length. "More than I would like, less than most other people my age, none of them of any significance."
"Does anyone close to you actually know?" Blake asked again.
Weiss just shook her head. "None because of my own admissions."
Weiss tried to pull away, but Blake held firm.
"What about those who assume?" Blake asked hotly. "Do you gratify any of it with a real response?"
"You assumed didn't you?" Weiss asked softly.
Blake was quiet, and once again, Weiss averted her gaze.
"Look, I'm interested, but not like this. I won't be another notch in a bedpost." Blake finally said, those burning orbs of molten gold glittering amongst the city lights and the blackish-blue sky. "You can't buy me. I'm not for sale."
Weiss blushed deeply. That had never been her intention, but now that Blake had brought it up, that idea had some twisted merit. "I'm not trying to buy you, Blake."
"Then, what I am I to you?" Blake asked. "A servant? A sex slave?"
"No." Weiss said, firmly shaking her head. "No, I never intended anything like that."
"Then what did you intend?"
Weiss was asking herself that very same question. Blake was everything Weiss shouldn't be near. Everything she wanted. Everything she craved. Everything her family had ever condemned itself over. An addiction. A Faunus. A woman. An activist. If anything, she should be staying as far away from Blake as possible, not trying to get closer.
"I don't know." Weiss said then, her voice oddly distant, as if she was building an emotional wall around this entire situation.
"Don't you think you should figure that out?" Blake shot back.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder." The Faunus demanded. "What do you want from me?"
Weiss didn't have anything she could say to that. It was the very question she kept asking herself to great length. She was no closer to answering her own question as she was to answering Blake's. The Faunus woman might as well have been an image of friend and foe mixed together to make the perfect sin. The sort Weiss would never be able to redeem herself from.
"I want companionship."
"Sex?" Blake pressed.
"No, not that. Just…I…" Weiss closed her eyes and sighed, anger edging into her tone. "I just don't want to be alone right now, is that so bloody hard to understand?"
"Then stop fighting me." Blake murmured, the grip she had on that slender wrist had held steadfast. Even as Weiss tried to pull away, run, and retreat back to her own little corner of denial. Blake hadn't let her, wouldn't let her. Not while they were this close. When Weiss stopped pulling away, that grip slackened, and Blake got closer. "I won't be another dirty little…what did you call them earlier today?"
"Skeletons." Weiss said unthinkingly.
"Right." Blake murmured softly. "I won't be another one of those."
"I never asked you to be." Weiss licked her lips, wanting so very much to kiss the woman holding her so securely. Having no idea how to go about that under this circumstance, she swallowed back the urge. It was entirely possible Blake wouldn't reciprocate. The plausibility that the taller woman might push her away and leave, it was too much to consider.
In fact, the Faunus had every right to do so, and, every reason.
Against all cynical odds, a warm palm lifted to cup her cheek, and Blake leaned. Full lips gently planting the simplest of kisses upon her lips.
It was all of the assurance Weiss could have wanted, and yet, it wasn't nearly enough to quell the depth of the thirst Weiss had for this infuriating Faunus known as Blake Belladonna.
By some miracle of nature that extended far beyond her ken, Weiss ended up walking barefoot across the carpet. Blake guided her to the bed to lay down. Everything was meticulous, and very much intentional. Blake seemed to make sure that there was no misunderstanding that. This was not a one night stand. It would never be an illicit act, scandal, or even a momentary indiscretion.
She buried the both of them in the sheets, blanket, and thick comforter with careful intent. She did it so assuredly, that Weiss had no room to doubt her. An arm snaking around a slender waist, causing Weiss to gasp as she felt the Faunus press into her lightly.
"Blake, what are you doing?"
"Holding you."
"Why."
"You said you didn't want to be alone."
"I don't."
"And what are we supposed to be doing now?" Weiss asked in the too dark room. Shadows were not enough to see Blake's expressions. The only hint were those amber eyes glittering faintly in the nearly non-existent light. What could Blake possibly expect from her in this position?
"Sleeping." Blake said, face buried halfway into her pillow, her eyes closing. That amber gaze disappearing entirely into the darkness.
"I'm not tired." Weiss said. In fact, she was decidedly wound up from feeling another body pressed against her own for so long.
"You may not be, but I am." Blake muffled with some level of force through her sleepy haze, her pillow catching the ire in her voice. "Hush now, I'm going to sleep now."
There was no room for argument, but even if there had been, what retort could she possibly have made?
This was a road that Weiss had honestly not traveled. Never, not once in the entirety of her life. Truth be told, it was a little intimidating. She didn't know what to do. Her inexperience in this new endeavor obvious as she went as still as a board. The Faunus slowly molded around her like firm potters clay. Each passing moment, relaxing more and more.
It was all too much. The warm body heat of another. The soft breathing of a tender soul. The supple womanly features pressing into her back, all the tantalizing, and driving her mad.
Weiss had nothing else to compare this to. Bedfellows were usually mindless in their escapades. Quick romps, nothing more. They never stayed around. Bitter loneliness was a guarantee to follow after sweet release. The best orgasms she'd ever had were soured quickly by the people she'd reached those heights with. Sexual gratification wasn't something that Weiss was ashamed to admit that she partook in.
It was a natural urge. Yet, it was only a baser desire.
An act born not of love, but of something entirely more primal. Lust taking root in the reptilian part of the human mind. It was an instinct easily ignored or avoided, but one unquestionably more pleasurable to indulge. To share a bed outside of that offered no gratification, or so Weiss had assumed.
As such, Weiss had never indulged in this sensation in her life. The feel of another resting next to her, while still being completely clothed. It was an entirely foreign concept. Cuddling something she knew by name, but never by experience. She had never even assumed it could be a pleasurable act in and of itself. She assumed it was what married couples did in the haze of sleepiness.
Most certainly not something to be done on restless nights. Never when her mind twirled around in the scum of its own negativity.
She felt Blake's fingers run up and sown the length of her arm, gently caressing the silky smooth skin that Weiss ever so carefully cared for. There was moist heat in every breath of air placed upon her neck, Blake not quite kissing her, but yet allowing her lips to brush that sensitive area on rare occasion. Each action was lazy, as if Blake was trying to soothe Weiss, while also lulling herself to sleep.
That ever odd juxtaposition not lost on Weiss as she fixated on the strangeness of it all.
Further, her analytical mind noted that this was the first time Weiss experienced true silence out of Blake.
The Faunus was wordless in the darkness, her gentle breathing and the rustle of the blankets were the only sounds that she made with regularity. An occasional sniff of the air, a small yawn, or the flutter of an exposed Faunus ear against the pillow would add to the sounds of life. The sounds of intimacy, indicative of sharing a bed with another. The smell of lavender was permeating the room, a scent all Blake's own, lingering among the sheets.
Weiss bit her lip, unbearably aroused.
What was she supposed to do during an occasion like this?
Seeing to her own needs would be crass, lewd, and largely unappealing.
Yet, she couldn't very well act on her desires. Strictly speaking, Blake had told her that she couldn't be a bought woman. That law made not in sand, but concrete. The Faunus taking a seemingly hard line about that. It was almost as if Blake distrusted her. That she assumed that Weiss somehow classified the Faunus as a high class whore, made strictly for the purposes of her pleasure.
It was less out of objectification, and more a question of time. Months having gone by since the last time Weiss had indulged in a woman. Years since it had been a man. Her sexual appetite was hardly ravenous, but in this moment, it certainly felt as if it was. However, no matter what the reasons were, Blake certainly hadn't been wrong.
It was with a guilty little sigh that Weiss admitted to herself that if Blake had asked for money, she would have paid.
There was no excuse for that, either.