Greetings, everyone! We're back with another chapter of this beauty. I can't emphasize enough how fun it is to write in this style and in this type of AU.
Trigger warning: There is a scene at the end of the chapter involving Willow and Jacques. It's the closest I've ever come to typing a rape scene. It isn't technically that from a physical standpoint, but the feelings involved are reminiscent of an assault, due to the nature of dæmons and the intimate nature of touching another person's dæmon. Just thought I'd let you know in case anyone wanted to skim or skip it.
Enjoy!
Weiss was silent for most of the walk back to the Manor. She could feel Jaune's curious gaze boring into her and was grateful that he at least had the decency to refrain from asking a bunch of questions. She knew that the silence would only last for a short while, of course, so decided to break it herself. "I am grateful for your assistance, Mister Arc."
"You can just call me Jaune," he told her. "Even my dad doesn't like being called Mister Arc. Says it makes him feel old."
Weiss nodded once in acknowledgement, falling silent again.
After a few minutes, Jaune spoke up again. "So, what's got you so interested in witches?"
Weiss stiffened. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, please." Jaune rolled his eyes. "I know people think I'm dumb, but give me some credit. When I was talking to you tonight, you were totally zoned out till I mentioned the witch. Hours later, you're wandering around at night, when you obviously have never done so before. It's pretty obvious."
Weiss visibly deflated, mentally berating herself for being so transparent. "If you must know, I was hoping to get news from the north. I know someone who went there and was curious as to her whereabouts."
"That makes sense. A witch would definitely know something like that." As they drew closer to the Manor, Jaune stopped. "Well, we're pretty close now. You probably snuck out somewhere, so having me around might give you away. Besides, I need to head back and check on my friend."
"Your friend?"
Jaune nodded. "Yeah. The girl in the ring with the lion dæmon. She got knocked out just when I found you."
Weiss was shocked at the sheer horror she felt. "Are injuries in that arena usually serious?"
"Sometimes, but it depends on the…" Jaune trailed off, noticing something about Weiss's expression and the nervous demeanor of her dæmon. It went far beyond the basic concern one would feel for someone they don't know. "Do you know her too?"
"What?! Of course, not!" Weiss huffed. "I've never seen her before in my life. I was just concerned."
Jaune frowned. "Yong Shi got really distracted all of a sudden…" His eyes widened. "Weiss, did you feel anything weird when you looked at the arena?"
Weiss was silent. She still didn't understand the emotions that had gone through her and her dæmon, and even if she did, she wouldn't feel comfortable sharing something so personal with this boy, good-natured as he was.
Eliana scampered down Jaune's leg and approached Anmut, who hesitated before nodding his head. She chattered excitedly. "Oh, congratulations!" she exclaimed.
Jaune's frown turned to a grin. "Well, how about that? You go looking for a witch and find your soulmate!"
"Shut up!" Weiss hissed. "Don't say that!"
Jaune balked. "Hey, it's nothing to be angry about. I'm kinda jealous, honestly. I've been hoping to find mine ever since my parents told me what it's like."
"And what is it like?" Weiss asked, folding her arms. "Touching each other's dæmon's in public with no regard for common decency…what kind of madness even leads to something like that?"
Jaune flinched, looking hurt, and Weiss immediately felt bad. "I apologize. That was rude of me."
"It's fine," Jaune muttered. "What are you so scared of, anyway?"
Weiss rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but my family has a very privileged position, largely due to its association with the Church and its higher-ups. Soulmates are a pagan concept."
"It's not, though," Jaune insisted. "It's a thing that happens, no matter what religion you practice. All humans and witches have soulmates. Faunus do too, but they can't really tell since they don't have dæmons. I guess if a Faunus had a human soulmate, that'd be a way to figure it out…"
"Well, since you're such an expert, what should I do about this?" Weiss asked. "How do I make this go away?" How do I forget what happened, and stop seeing that lion in my mind?
"You can't." Jaune shrugged. "A soulmate is the person you're meant to be with for life, the person who will always understand you more than anyone else. If I was lucky enough to find mine, I'd try to be with them as much as possible."
Weiss tapped her foot nervously. "I'm not saying I will…but, if I asked you to help me go into town sometime to potentially see her again…"
"No problem!" Jaune grinned. "We should probably wait a day, though. She's gonna need to recover. Speaking of which…"
"Of course." Weiss nodded her head. "Go make sure she's well. I've kept you long enough. Thank you again for your help, Mi- I mean, Jaune."
Jaune smiled. "No problem. I'll drop by later. I'm sure my parents can arrange something, so your dad'll let me escort you around town." He waved over his shoulder as he walked away. Eliana scampered up his leg and side, even as he moved, her claws well-practiced at such a maneuver.
Once they were gone, Weiss looked at Anmut. "What do you think?"
"You know what I think."
She did, of course. The pull they had felt to this girl, Yang, and her lion dæmon had been too deep, too wonderful to ignore. They would seek the two out, if only to see them one more time and settle their minds on the matter of never going near them again.
When they finally snuck back into Weiss's room, Weiss was ready to collapse on her bed until morning. She walked by the window, noticing the shadow of a large bird on her sill. Slowly, she drew the curtains back, expecting to see an owl.
It wasn't an owl. It was a red-tailed hawk. Before Weiss could even wonder what a hawk was doing out at night, she realized that this wasn't an animal.
Next to her, Anmut let out a hiss. "A dæmon!"
Weiss stiffened, her throat going dry at the sheer wrongness of what she was seeing. A dæmon was sitting outside her window. Alone. Without its human anywhere in sight. There'd might as well be a ghost haunting the Manor!
The hawk turned around, jumping a little with surprise when it saw the human and swan on the other side of the glass. It quickly recovered, however, and politely pecked on the window, cocking its head.
Weiss and Anmut exchanged a glance. "What should we do?"
"He looks like a normal dæmon," Anmut muttered. Then, he remembered something. "Weiss, aren't there stories about witch dæmons being able to fly far away from their witch?"
That was all Weiss needed to open the window and let the hawk in. He walked into the room, the picture of grace and dignity, and bowed his head toward Anmut.
"I'm sorry. I must have given you quite a fright. My name is Hermes. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Weiss replied a little shakily. She quickly sat down at her desk, feeling rather faint. "Um, my name is Weiss Schnee, and this is Anmut."
"I know," Hermes replied. "My witch dreamed of you."
Weiss's heart nearly stopped. "Was she sent by my sister? Winter?" She said her sister's name in the barest whisper, still very aware of the forbidden nature of the word.
"I'm afraid not," Hermes replied. "You have a sister up north?"
"Yes," Weiss sighed, staring at the ground. "I hoped to find you and ask for news of her, but…"
"Oh, we can find out!" Hermes said calmly. "A simple scrying spell will do the trick. We'd be happy to help, since you'll be helping us."
"I will?" Weiss frowned, suspicion clouding the thrill that had just gone through her. "What do you need me to do?"
"Absolutely nothing!" Hermes said with a gentle, musical laugh that sounded odd coming from such a fierce, sharp beak. "Or maybe something you don't know yet. You see, my witch and I are seeking our soulmate."
Weiss stiffened. Soulmates again?! "How could I possibly help with that?"
"Well, after a witch's soulmate comes of age, the witch has a dream telling her where to look," Hermes explained. "Witches live for hundreds of years, so it's common for a soulmate to not come around for several centuries. Luckily for us, we only had to wait one century for ours. Anyway, my witch dreamed of you. We wondered if you were our soulmate, but since I didn't feel the bond when I saw you, I suppose you're the one meant to lead me to whoever it is."
"Why don't you just dream of whoever your soulmate is?" Weiss asked.
"That sometimes happens," Hermes allowed. "My guess is that we dreamed of you, because we have another task besides finding our soulmate. Perhaps telling you about your sister is that task."
Weiss tried to steady her heartbeat. So much was happening at once. Next to her, Anmut ruffled his feathers in agitation. "When can you do the… What was it?"
"Scrying spell," Hermes repeated. "At the moment, we're focused on finding our soulmate. Once we do, however, we'd be more than happy to help you with whatever you need. We have a month in this town, after all."
"Very well," Weiss sighed. "I'll do what I can to help."
Hermes flapped his wings excitedly. "Oh, thank you! I knew from seeing you in that dream that you'd help. You have a very kind heart."
Weiss wasn't sure about that. She had been called many things over the course of her life: beautiful, doll-like, graceful. Never before had she been called kindhearted.
Now this dæmon, on the other hand, already seemed to be the most warmhearted, open, kindly creature Weiss had ever met. If he was any indication, his witch was probably the most delightful person one could ever have the pleasure of knowing. He was also very straightforward, a trait Weiss certainly appreciated.
Out loud, she only said: "Thank you."
Hermes looked at the sky. "Well, I'd better leave. You humans need much more sleep than witches do, after all. Goodnight, Weiss Schnee. Goodnight, Anmut." He bowed courteously to each of them.
"Goodnight, Hermes," Weiss replied, bowing politely. "Give my regards to your witch."
"I shall. Until we meet again." With a rustle of feathers, the hawk flew out the window and was quickly lost from sight as he flew higher and higher until the clouds hid his red feathers completely.
Weiss closed the window, feeling numb and lightheaded, as if she was just waking up from a dream. She looked down at Anmut, who looked equally-addled. "What do we do, Anmut?"
"Sleep," the swan replied immediately. "We're both dreadfully tired."
That was, without a doubt, the best idea of the night.
…..
Yang couldn't meet her father's eyes that morning, even as he dabbed the swollen bump on the back of her head with a damp cloth. She stared down at her hands, a glare fixed on her face. At her feet, Yong Shi's tail lashed back and forth while Taiyang's gentle-eyed doe dæmon licked the bite wounds on his neck.
A pair of familiar feet skipped from the kitchen. "I'm off to the market!" Ruby chirped. "Need anything that isn't on the list?"
"No, sweetie," Taiyang said with a smile. "Hurry home, okay?"
"Yes, Dad." Ruby leaned over to hug Yang.
She was smiling, smiling as if her sister hadn't just cost the family the biggest pay day they could hope for. Yang couldn't stand looking at it.
Baynar, Ruby's excitable dingo dæmon, nuzzled Yong Shi's cheek before leading his human out the door. The only hint he gave at his hunger and concern was the fact that his tail wasn't wagging.
Once they were gone, Taiyang put the rag into the bowl and sat back. "So, what happened?"
Yang looked up. "Huh?"
Taiyang smiled gently. "Sweetheart, you had that fight. Something distracted both you and Yong Shi. What was it? Did someone threaten you recently?"
Yang shook her head. "No, it wasn't that. It…I don't know, Dad!" She put her face in her hands, her head still spinning too much to say much.
Yong Shi sat up and started talking quietly to the doe, who listened intently. Taiyang listened to his dæmon's thoughts as she relayed the conversation to him. At the end, he gasped.
"You saw your soulmate in the crowd!" His face lit up. "Yang, that's wonderful! What did they look like?"
"I didn't see much," Yang muttered. "Her dæmon's a swan."
"A swan, huh?" Taiyang scratched his chin. "Can't say I've ever seen anyone with a swan dæmon. Maybe they're new in town. I'll ask around today."
"How can you be so happy?" Yang asked, looking up at him. "I screwed up! We'll be eating beef jerky until I can fight my way up the chart again."
"Hey," Taiyang placed a hand on Yang's shoulder. "If I had it my way, you wouldn't be going to that arena at all. The only reason I allow it is because hunting hasn't been great lately, and we need the money. This is what happens when you have a source of income determined by something like a split-second decision or a lucky hit: Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. I will never be angry with you for losing a fight, and neither will Ruby. You've already won plenty of fights and made us enough money to get us through the winter. We can survive until you get up there again. We're survivors. Just stop feeling guilty and start thinking about how you can do better next time."
Finally, a smile came to her face. "Thanks, Dad."
Yong Shi purred as the doe dæmon nuzzled his brow.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door before Jaune burst in. "Yang! You're awake! I came by last night, but you were still out cold." He had a basket in his hand, which he placed on the table. "There's some herbs in here that should help with the swelling. Also, we had a bunch of bread and meat that my sisters snitched from that ball we were at last night."
Yang snorted. "Leftover yuppy food. My favorite." She grinned. "Thanks, Jaune."
Jaune sat down next to her, still beaming. "I got more news!" Eliana was running back and forth across his back between his shoulders.
"Uh, you found gold buried under the house that legally belongs to us?" Yang asked.
"That would be cool, but no!" Jaune put a hand on Yang's shoulder. "I know who your soulmate is!"
Yang's back stiffened, and she felt a combination of excitement and terror. "How?"
"I met her at the ball, and she was at the fight last night," Jaune explained.
"Did she have a swan dæmon?"
"Yep!" Jaune said. "It's Weiss Schnee!"
Yang fell back on the sofa with a groan. "Great. My soulmate's the spoiled princess daughter of the most crooked businessman in Remnant."
"Now, Yang," Taiyang scolded. "Don't judge someone you've never met."
"Yeah," Jaune insisted. "I met her."
"And, what's she like?"
Jaune paused thoughtfully. "Honestly, I can't tell yet."
"That's encouraging," Yang muttered.
Eliana let out a chirp. "I like Anmut. He just doesn't seem used to making friends. He was nice to me whenever I talked to him."
"She's scared." It was Yong Shi who spoke, sitting up slowly. "I could feel that when I first saw her. She's used to hiding herself."
"She was pretty scared when I told her that you two were soulmates," Jaune remembered. "But, she still wants to meet you."
"She does?" Yang frowned. She had never been overly sure about this whole soulmate concept. It seemed weird that you could just meet a person and suddenly be destined to be together forever. Wasn't there any choice involved? Was she going to fall in love with this girl, no matter what happened.
I guess I have to meet her, though, she thought. Yong Shi would never rest until they did, after all.
"Okay," she said out loud. "Where and when am I meeting this girl?"
…
It was dinnertime, and the Schnee family sat at a table that was far too long to allow for comfortable conversation. People at opposite ends of the table were forced to raise their voices if they wanted to be heard. Since women weren't supposed to raise their voices, that suited Jacques perfectly.
He sat at the head of the table, with Whitley on his right side. The gray wolf sat at his feet, her ears perked forward, her yellow eyes sharp. Demetria was lying on the ground in the form of a white wolf once again.
Willow sat at the other end of the table, closest to the fireplace due to her sensitivity to the cold. Her ermine dæmon, Varian, was wrapped around her neck like a fur collar, his black eyes shut. To her left was Weiss, who always too this seat rather than the one on Willow's right, where Winter used to sit. It was the only way she had found to get away with acknowledging her sister's absence.
Klein and his spaniel dæmon, Sonja, served Jacques and Whitley first before coming to the other end of the table. The spaniel paused by Anmut, who bowed his head so that the dog could lick his cheek. Weiss felt a ghost of the comforting gesture, a fatherly kiss she would never receive from her own father.
As she looked at her mother, she noticed that Varian's eyes had opened at Klein's approach, though they closed quickly when Weiss looked at him
"Jaune Arc came to call this afternoon." Jacques didn't touch his food, which meant that none of the family was allowed to take a bite yet.
Weiss assumed a mask of polite interest, even as her heart thudded far too loudly for her comfort. "Was he here to compliment the ball?"
"Yes, among other things," Jacques folded his hands. "It would seem that you made a good impression on him. He wishes to spend tomorrow afternoon with you."
Weiss waited to see if he would say more. She had to tread carefully. Showing too much interest may make Jacques refuse to let her go, if he already hadn't made that decision based on the Arc family's reputation.
"What did you tell him?" she finally asked.
"I told him to be here at two o'clock sharp tomorrow, and to have you home by five. You will also need a chaperone."
Weiss's heart sank just as Klein cleared his throat.
"Sir, might I volunteer? I will be done washing up from lunch by then."
Jacques considered for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Klein." He then fixed Weiss with a stern glare, one that the gray wolf echoed as she looked at Anmut. "It is good for you to learn how to be courted, but don't get attached to this boy. I want to marry you off to someone from a respectable family."
Weiss nodded, even as her stomach twisted at the thought of marriage, at the thought of how she'd likely be given over to some pompous man just like father in the near future. Anmut pressed close to her and trembled, already imagining an unwanted husband's hands reaching for him.
"Yes, Father. I understand," she said out loud. It was clear what Jacques was asking for. He wanted her to lead Jaune on, and hopefully get on his rich family's good side, before gracefully backing off once some money had circulated. That was easy enough to understand.
Jacques's mustache quirked with what seemed to be satisfaction. At his side, the gray wolf lay down on the carpet, relaxed at last. Jacques finally took a bite, allowing the rest of his family to finally eat.
The next day, Whitley was snickering as he followed Weiss down the hall. "I don't envy you. Playing games with that scrawny boy. I wonder if Father is punishing you.
I wouldn't be the one to talk about being scrawny, Weiss thought. Next to her, Anmut hissed at Demetria, who turned into a little white mouse, which Whitley quickly picked up. He didn't say anything more after that.
Klein and Jaune were waiting for her at the door. The two had already gotten acquainted, and seemed to be getting along, though Jaune shot Weiss a nervous look over the butler's shoulder. On his shoulder, Eliana was twitching. Weiss smiled comfortingly as she held out her hand. "Mister Arc." Calling him by his first name within potential earshot of Jacques would be a very bad idea.
"Miss Schnee," Jaune replied, bowing somewhat awkwardly and stiffly before holding out his arm. He led her down the path away from the house, Klein trailing a few feet behind.
"What are we going to do now?" he muttered as they walked ahead.
"Don't worry," Weiss replied. "Klein is my friend, and he never liked Father. He will probably understand."
"Understand what?"
The two jumped guiltily, looking behind them to see that Sonja had moved ahead of Klein and had listened eagerly with her large, floppy ears.
Anmut shared a glance with Weiss before entering a hushed conversation with the dog, who nodded and fell back. "She says Klein will go to the market once we're further into town. He'll meet us by the butcher's shop at 4:30," he muttered aloud for Jaune's benefit.
"Good plan," Jaune said as Eliana's tail drooped with relief. "Let's walk further in before we take the route toward Yang's place."
"Very well." Weiss noted that the town, while still strong of smell, was no longer as intimidating as it had been at night. "Is Yang well?"
"Physically, yes," Jaune said. "She's still beating herself up for losing that fight. There was good money at stake there."
"Do these…brawls make a decent sum of money?" Weiss wondered.
"To the people in that neighborhood, any money is good money," Jaune explained. "And Yang's one of the best fighters. She probably would've won if Yong Shi hadn't gotten distracted."
Weiss assumed Yong Shi was the lion. "And what distracted- Oh!" She stopped walking, a horrible realization hitting her. "It was my fault, wasn't it?"
"Not really," Jaune pointed out. "There was no way to know what would happen, after all. Besides, you may have never met her otherwise."
Weiss continued to walk with Jaune, though her heart was sinking lower and lower. "Maybe she doesn't want to meet me, all things considered."
"Don't be silly," Jaune huffed, though he couldn't help but remember how apprehensive and hesitant Yang had been the other day. "She's really excited."
Anmut noticed the way Eliana's tail curled around Jaune's neck. Liar… he thought, his wings drooping.
"Oh, there's one more thing," Jaune said, suddenly remembering something. "You already know about soulmates being allowed to touch each other's dæmon's right?" He completely missed the way Weiss flinched. "Well, it turns out that's how you establish the soul bond. Once you touch the other person's dæmon, you can read that person better than anyone. How cool is that?"
"I…have no words…" Weiss muttered, her throat tightening and going dry. Maybe, there's a way to go back home without Jaune noticing.
They rounded a corner, and she came to a full halt, her eyes narrowing. "I cannot go a step further," she said firmly. Her eyes, and Anmut's, were fixed on the entrance to the Faunus District, just a few yards down the road.
"But, Yang's house is right there."
"I can't go near the Faunus District," Weiss said, her voice cold.
Jaune gave her a long look, then sighed. "Okay, I'll bring Yang over here. Just sit tight for a second." He walked the rest of the way and entered the small house at the end of the road.
Weiss's entire body was as tense as the string of a violin. She bent down to put a hand on Anmut's back, not trusting anyone, not trusting that a hand wouldn't reach out and-
"There they are," Anmut breathed. His feathers fluttered, and Weiss felt that bone-deep longing return. As she looked up, it deepened into an extra layer over her heartbeat, which grew faster and faster by the second.
No longer in fighting gear, Yang wore shorts pants that were entirely too short, and a brown jacket that was entirely too long. Brown gloves were on her hands, and her messy yellow hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. At her side, the lion dæmon was staring at Weiss with amber eyes that seemed to have forgotten how to blink. They were beautiful.
Thankfully, neither Weiss nor the swan heard what their soulmate was saying just then.
"What do you mean, she won't go near the Faunus District?" Yang grumbled. "Does she think they'll bite?"
"Maybe! I don't know," Jaune shrugged helplessly. "She refused to come any closer."
"Well, maybe I refuse to go any closer. How about that?"
"Yang!" Yong Shi's voice was a low, stern growl. "Our soulmate's fear is what drove you apart before. I won't let your arrogance do the same thing now."
"It's your arrogance too," Yang muttered.
"Yes, and my arrogance is currently telling me to either walk over there right now with you at my side, or to drag you forcefully."
Yang snorted. "Wouldn't that be a sight? Me getting dragged by my own dæmon." In the end, she decided to walk on her own.
As she drew closer to the girl, as she got a good look at her for the first time, she was both intrigued and afraid. Intrigued because of how strange and otherworldly Weiss's beauty was. This was a daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the world. Her hair, her clothes, her skin, everything was perfectly clean, pale, and soft. It was enough to make Yang mentally pull herself in, hoping that her mind could reduce her large bust, her thick thighs, and her too-muscular arms. The fear came because of just how beautiful she found this young woman to be.
This is all Yong Shi, she told herself, noting how the lion was practically vibrating in his desire to get closer. And you just find her pretty. Nothing wrong with that. You aren't falling in love in one second. That's stupid.
The two pairs stood a few feet apart, each sizing the other up. It was Weiss who finally broke the silence. "H-Hello," she said, hating how quiet and tremulous her voice sounded. "My name is Weiss Schnee, and this is Anmut." How on earth could she compare to this woman, who was so strong, so confident, so vibrant. It was like there was a tiny sun inside Yang's chest, illuminating her from within, burning the dirt and grime on her skin into irrelevance.
Yang felt a pang at the slight waver in Weiss's voice, and knew that Yong Shi's desire to keep this girl safe was hers as well. "Hey," she said. "I'm Yang, and that's Yong Shi." She took a deep breath and forced a grin as she let it out. "It's really Weiss to meet you."
Next to her, Yong Shi snickered. "Really, Yang?" he muttered. "Shouldn't you ease into the jokes?"
"Excuse me if I have a Schnee-stym for meeting people," Yang said, folding her arms and sticking out her tongue.
The corner of Weiss's lip quirked. "That…wasn't even punny."
Anmut tossed his head, letting out a honk of laughter, which elicited a delighted rumble from Yong Shi, who batted lightly at the swan with a large paw.
Yang laughed out loud, Weiss finally was able to smile fully and genuinely, and Jaune let out a sigh of relief. It looked like everything would be okay, after all.
Still grinning, Yang held her hand out toward Anmut. "This is the next thing, right?"
Anmut's good humor immediately faded, and he shied away from Yang's hand with a sharp hiss.
Yang jumped back, pulling her hand away, the corners of her eyes prickling. Had she done something wrong? Jaune had told her what to do. She shot a glare over her shoulder at Jaune, who shrugged helplessly.
Weiss's heart was racing, fear coating it with a tingly, burning substance that caused her breaths to come short. "I…" She swallowed loudly. "I can't…not…not yet…"
The hurt feeling that had started bubbling in Yang faded in the face of the fear she could see. Weiss's pupils were like pinpricks, and Anmut was trembling in a way no swan should. Yong Shi longed to reach out to the swan and comfort him, but held himself back.
"That's fine," Yang said quickly, managing to smile again. "It seems a bit quick to do it on the first meeting anyway, right?" Secretly, she was relieved. She wasn't sure how much she wanted anyone, much less someone she had just met (regardless of how beautiful she was) to know all about her.
"Right," Weiss said with a shaky nod. "I'm glad you understand."
Her mind, and Anmut, were full of unseen turmoil. Terrifying flashbacks threatened to rise to the surface, and they would only be drawn out more if this continued. Weiss realized this, even as she knew that she couldn't keep away. Now that she could truly see Yang and Yong Shi, she knew deep in her heart that they needed each other. She didn't know how or why, but she knew it in the same way one knows fire is hot and the sun is bright.
But what if she was destined to ruin this? What if this was a cruel joke, far beyond any puns, whose punchline involved Weiss spoiling everything before she could even understand what was happening?
…
Varian did not fight. He never did anymore.
There had been a time when he would bare his tiny, sharp fangs at Jacques as that hated hand reached for him, when he would hiss and spit and dare that man to come any closer. There was a time, even earlier than that, when he would not have done so, when he would have gladly accepted the occasional touch from that smooth, freezing hand.
There had been a time when Jacques and Willow came together in what Willow and Varian thought was an act of love. Varian would playfully tussle with the gray wolf, squeaking and writhing as her large tongue licked his fur.
Now, he knew it was all a lie. Worse still, he knew there was nothing to be done about it. Willow was a woman. She was the wife of a successful man. She was the property of a successful man.
The alcohol helped. It dulled Willow's senses, so she didn't feel as much when these nights came.
Varian felt it, though. He felt it and despised it.
He shivered, scrunching his eyes shut as Jacques touched him, stroking his white fur with fingers that would gladly squeeze his throat if he did something wrong.
Willow bit her lip, whimpering at the familiar sensation of being violated, of having someone she hated touch the deepest part of her, having him grasp at her very soul while she was powerless to do anything. Her mind was dull to anything except self-loathing. She knew her dæmon hated being molested like this, and here she was allowing it.
Worse still, she was submitting to the man doing it, and caressing his dæmon the way she should have been gentling her own. Her hand was buried in fur that looked and smelled of cigarette ash. She stroked her husband's dæmon, aware that the wolf's muzzle bore a self-satisfied smile.
Stroke, stroke, stroke. Another touch in her deepest of depths. Another finger probing within.
Jacques picked Varian up, and the feeling of wrongness almost prompted the ermine to attack. Only knowledge of what would happen to his beloved Willow if he dared such a thing kept him under control.
Varian was brought to the hated man's chest. He felt the pressure of those fingers increase, just for a moment, pressing into him.
Willow gasped, her hand flying to her heart.
Jacques didn't loosen his grip. "Did I tell you to stop?"
The gray wolf growled, her fur bristling until that shaking hand started stroking it again.
Stroke, stroke, stroke.
Varian did not fight.
With her free hand, Willow reached for a half-empty bottle of wine and brought it to her trembling lips.
That last bit was a bit uncomfortable for me to type, but I wanted to stay true to the nature of dæmons. I drew a lot from a scene in His Dark Materials, when a character's dæmon is forcibly handled and she feels the greatest sense of violation and wrongness she has ever known. In a way, though, I felt that this scene was even worse, as Willow has to be complacent and doesn't even have the option to struggle, along with the fact that what she's going through is drawn out and is more explicitly sexual in nature than what happened in the books. There will be other moments of that nature, and I'll be sure to put warnings at the beginnings of those chapters as well.
As you've probably guessed, this story isn't just going to be a romance story. I intend to delve more into Willow and Whitley and make this partially a story about the Schnees seeking freedom from Jacques, spurred by Weiss's increasing desire to escape, which will be brought on by her encounters with Yang. Stay tuned for more drama, romance, and angst. Yes, there will be angst.
If you like what you see and want to show extra support while earning sweet rewards, my P/atreon is Solora Goldsun.
Peace out!
