RWBY June AC Chapter 2

Weiss had very few positive memories of her childhood. Much of her life before Beacon could be surmised as cold and sterile, particularly after Winter abandoned her inheritance and left to join the Specialists. Even before the White Fang began their terror attacks on the SDC and her family, making her father resemble the ice fields that adorned Atlas more and more each and every day, the Schnee house was not one where laughter and joy were commonplace.

She remembered when she was ten; Winter was home and her father was away on a business trip, prompting her mother to organize a trip for the Schnee siblings and Klein to a local opera. Weiss had several reasons to remember the trip, one of which being the freak heatwave that had ravaged Atlas for that winter. The style at the time for members of high society was traditionally fur-lined coats that reached to the kneecaps, but judging by the both the sparseness of coats in the coat-rack room, and the board expression of the employee who took Klein and Whitley's jackets, no one had brought their coats with them tonight. The other was that, thinking honestly to herself, this was one of those very few positive memories she did cherish. No White Fang, no SDC politics, no Jacques... just her, Winter, Whitney, her mother and Klein out for a night at the theater.

They were escort to the near top of the opera hall, seats that granted a view over much of the hall and prevented any large heads from obstructing vision. Klein sat with Whitley on his lap, enrapturing the young boy with a near endless stream of stories whispered into his ear to help him with all the events that the young boy would not have to care for (Or at least look like he cared) for another few years. Willow had the center-most seat, flanked by several guards, while Weiss and Winter were to the right.

Weiss had a fondness for music, and the orchestra danced and soared with the opera singers; the cellos and sopranos, the war-drums and the basses, the flutes and tenors. Every note was tonally perfect, every movement staged and practiced so many times it had transcended muscle memory. Yet in spite of how practiced and fluid these technicians were, it did not feel staged or soulless.

There was but one problem. It was in the old tongue, one of the old languages Atlas had used before a common language had been settled on following the Great War. While Weiss could see how much work had gone into this production, the countless hours spent mastering the dances and reading the music, it irked her young mind throughout the first several acts that she could not understand the story or themes and solidify her appreciation for it.

At the interval, Weiss felt slight tap on the shoulder; Winter looked over at her, a slight frown on her features. "Is something wrong? You seem to be lost in thought."

"It's nothing important. Nothing worth speaking of."

Winter gave her what Weiss mentally referred to as her Big Sister Look, or as Ruby would later call it in the years to come, the 'I know you're trying to bullshit me, but I've been in your spot before so it isn't going to work,' Look. "Weiss, I don't appreciate being humored."

"I... of course. My apologies."

That Weiss had grown so formal in Winter's absence seemed to make her look away for a second, muttering something under her breath. She regained her composure. "Please Weiss. There's no harm in just speaking with me, the interval will last for a few more minutes."

"I..." she relented. "I don't like that I cannot understand the singers. They put so much passion into their performance, all of the performers are operating at peak efficiency, but... I wish to know what they sing of that unites all of these musicians together." She tried to make a dismissive waving gesture. "I'm still enjoying myself, Winter. It's nothing to get worked up about."

"That is what bothers you?"

"You see? What a trivial matter to get agitated over."

"Well, I can translate it for you. Not the whole thing, of course, but I can send you a translation of the script when we return home. And I speak enough that I can surmise the plot up to now."

"Oh?" She sat up straight in her seat. "Well, if it isn't too much trouble, Winter..."

She trailed off awkwardly, but Winter simply smiled. "It's no trouble at all. Now, you remembered the woman in stark white with the red sash?"

Weiss nodded.

"She is the mother of the rest of the main cast- with the yellow, purple and black sashes that wear their hair to the side. She worries that her husband, the king of a land, is becoming a corrupt tyrant that will take his rage out on his children. Thus, she begins to teach them in secret and inspire them to one day take power from their father and restore peace to the land."

Weiss was a more simple soul then. Not quite old enough to fully grasp the world around her, but still sharp enough to grasp what was right in front of her. "Oh," she whispered. "But then why would mother-" the penny dropped, and Weiss exhaled a quiet "ah," that carried much in the monosyllabic sound.

Winter merely nodded as Klein returned with Whitley, right before the curtains rose and the show began anew, now with Weiss enraptured as Winter loosely translated the plot as it occurred. She cried at the tragedies, suppressed her laughter at the comedic moments, and rose with the audience to grant the crew an encore. Even her mother was smiling as they left the theater.

Winter, true to her word, bought her the book the next day, and Weiss spent the day reading it in her room, her mind recreating the music as best as it could.

The next day, she wore her ponytail on the side and asked if she could receive lessons on singing.

I feel like Weiss is going to be the under-appreciated member of RWBY for day 2 at least in the circle of artists I follow, so I threw her a bone. Weiss may in fact be my favorite RWBY team member regardless, so this was an easy choice. I do feel it's a little short though, so sorry. But I guess better than being a little too short than going too long and into too much detail... at least that's what I'm telling myself.

Anyway, June 3rd will cover a member of JNPR. And I feel like going a little AU for tomorrow...