The following week, Weiss was stopped by Ozpin in the hallway on the way to class. "I have a proposition for you," he stated, extending the large envelope he was holding.
Weiss's stomach lurched at the gesture, eyes falling to the paper in his hands. "Please don't tell me I'm being re-assigned."
"Technically, no," he assured. "But, these documents will say otherwise." When he was met with only a confused stare, he continued. "In this envelope, you will find the names, pictures, and descriptions of your three new teammates. I recommend memorizing them as soon as possible so that you will be able to withstand any questioning. You will remain a member of team RWBY, unless the wrong people begin to ask questions. When that happens, you will be ready."
Shaking fingers reached for the envelope, drawing it close, as if she couldn't quite believe that it was real. "Professor…" she struggled for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Why are you doing this?"
The headmaster took a sip from his mug before responding. He seemed to choose his words very carefully, which Weiss was grateful for. "I would not break up one of my best teams based on the personal views of one man. That said, your father has a large amount of influence – one I've been experiencing firsthand this past week - and was rather unwilling to let the matter drop. So I drew up a cover that, I hope, will buy you some time. How much time is entirely up to you. I don't expect this façade to hold up forever, but I have provided you with all the tools you need to fabricate a life that may draw the eyes away from you, for the time being."
"Thank you, Professor Ozpin," Weiss said quickly. "I…I can't even tell you how much I appreciate this."
"You can, actually, by continuing to perform exceptionally as a member of your team," said Ozpin. "I have faith in you, Weiss, or I would not be going to such measures to keep you exactly where you are." He turned to depart.
Weiss looked down at the envelope again, resolving to have as much of it memorized by the end of the night as possible. "I will," she promised to his retreating figure, dashing off to her room.
Ivy Verdinfall, Linna Sky, Lilac Mae. She was now the leader of team WILL, which, judging by the accompanying pictures, was mostly a team of supermodels. On paper, they were perfect – accomplished sharpshooter, brilliant engineering prodigy, and high-class fashion designer, respectively. All three were littered with accomplishments – prize tournaments, award-winning weapons designs, spreads in Mistral's top fashion magazines. The depth of the lie startled Weiss as she produced pages of official-looking tournament standings, highly detailed blueprints, and magazine cutouts. Ozpin had spared no detail, mapping out the lives of each girl so intricately that she was convinced that each was a real person. She poured over the documents for days, quizzing herself, telling her real teammates about each one whenever they would listen.
Ruby and Yang took great amusement from the endeavor, resolving to fill in as many ridiculous details as they possibly could. Ivy listened to country music, they insisted, and Linna still slept with a stuffed pink bear every night. Lilac was the absolute worst cook on the face of the planet, and had nearly burned down the whole school while trying to boil spaghetti. Weiss inevitably became annoyed by this ("No, Yang, Ivy does not have a pet Beowolf, and Lilac never once tried to put it in a dress."), but felt secretly grateful to the sisters for helping her breathe life into each teammate. Her conversations with her father had grown more frequent and more personal, and she found it infinitely easier to talk about the fake teammates if she gave each of them distinct personalities. It soon became little more than a periodic series of tests to add to her schedule, which she studied for with the help of two of her teammates.
Blake would listen to the three of them, but she would always turn in on herself before too long, curling up with a book. Once Weiss had fleshed out the lie to the point where she was quite certain she could write a book on each of them, she stopped bringing them up in front of Blake.
"I'm sorry that I have to do this," she whispered to her girlfriend late one night after the sisters had fallen asleep.
Blake looked at her pensively. "I know why you have to. It's alright," she replied, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "Whatever keeps you on the team is fine by me."
"This isn't permanent," Weiss insisted, "I don't want to have to hide you."
The smile that touched Blake's face didn't quite reach her eyes. "I know."
Weeks turned into months. Ozpin occasionally brought her more envelopes, full of updates and further insight into the lives of team WILL, even going so far as to provide pictures of the four of them that looked so frighteningly real that Weiss spent hours trying to find flaws in the photo editing. Whenever her father called, she adopted a polite, respectful persona as she excitedly recounted her exploits with "the greatest team at Beacon." If he seemed pleased, he did not show it, but there was a marked decrease in his overt disapproval that convinced the heiress that her lie was working.
His next visit didn't occur until nearly a year had past, and Ozpin prepared her days in advance, providing her with a room furnished to look as if the most organized, studious people in the world inhabited it. He took care to explain to her father that the other three team members were away on a mission, while Weiss had been chosen to remain behind for an important "Leadership Skills Seminar." The effort they both had gone to seemed entirely pointless after Arktis showed up just long enough to ensure that his daughter was no longer associating with degenerates and children, barely staying a half-hour before being called away by his ever-buzzing scroll.
When he wasn't looking, Weiss threw herself fully into her missions, resolving herself to exceed the sterling, fake transcripts she was provided with. In the last semester before the beginning of senior year, team RWBY sat at the top of the standings for combat evaluation, mission performance, and academic achievement – the last of which was only accomplished by tying Yang to a chair and practically forcing textbooks down her throat.
Everything seemed perfect, until the day that Weiss received a message from her father demanding that she meet him in SDC's Vale branch office. Immediately.
There was no time to find her teammates, but she managed one quick stop on her way to the station, grabbing Myrtenaster from her locker. The weight of it at her hip comforted her as she sent a quick explanation to the other three via her scroll. She made her way to Vale's commercial district and entered the ornate, white-bricked building on the northern border of the city. A young, blandly pretty receptionist greeted her with far too many head-bows and a smile that looked as if it was made of plastic.
"Welcome, Miss Schnee! Your father is on the twelfth floor. He's been expecting you."
Weiss nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you."
She tried to stifle the frantic beating of her heart, mind racing as she stepped into the elevator and rode it in silence. The trip seemed to take ages as she turned over every possible reason for the strange summons. What did her father have to say to her that couldn't be said with a call?
The elevator doors opened to a large, immaculately clean office. The nameplate in the entryway claimed the room for the Regional Director, but Arktis appeared to have commandeered the largest office in the building, hands folded over the desk as he watched his daughter enter the room.
"Sit down," he said by way of greeting, and Weiss obeyed.
Cerulean eyes turned to examine her thoroughly, pausing only once they reached the weapon she carried, lips twitching in the barest hint of a frown before he spoke. "Have you spoken to Winter recently?"
Weiss furrowed her brow in confusion, unsure if she'd heard correctly. Of all the possible explanations for her father's sudden appearance, her sister had never once crossed her mind. "Not for at least a year," she said. "We're not exactly close. Last I heard she was still in Atlas studying economics."
"No longer the case. She has been hospitalized." He spoke the words as if he were stating a particularly boring fact.
"What!?" exclaimed Weiss, feeling a stab of concern. She remembered, all in a rush, the high-pitched shriek of Winter's voice growing up, the years of being referred to as "little" despite the seven minutes that separated them in age, of being called "nothing but my reflection" in whispered tones when no one else could hear. Thoughts of her own hospitalization after Winter had "accidentally" pushed her down the stairs resurfaced as she recalled the rivalry that had cooled with distance, words spoken that a few awkward phone conversations over the years could do very little to erase. "What happened? Is she alright?"
"There was an accident, one that was entirely her fault," Arktis explained, no hint of sympathy on his face. "She decided that recreational substances were more important than her studies, and further decided to drive into town under the influence. She somehow ended up bypassing a military checkpoint and led police on an hour long chase before crashing into the statue of general Ironwood."
Weiss could only stare in shock.
"She has been removed from critical condition, but she will never walk again. She has ceded her chair on the board at SDC, which leaves me with a predicament."
The only predicament Weiss could see was that her twin had just nearly been killed, but he proved her wrong. "I have a company to bequeath, and two daughters who have both caused me immeasurable disappointment." His eyes narrowed to slits.
Weiss took a moment to process the information and collect herself, resisting the urge to fold under her father's hostile gaze. "I-I'm sorry to hear about Winter. I'll visit…at my next available opportunity," her voice faltered for a moment, deepening the frown on his face.
Arktis placed both of his hands on the desk in front of him, lifting himself up to his full, impressive height before he began. "During our most recent call, you mentioned that your teammate, Ivy Verdinfall, won Vale's Regional Sharpshooting Tournament. So, perhaps you can imagine my surprise when one of my associates entered a meeting, bragging about how his son had just won that very same tournament."
Weiss's heart skipped a beat.
"I contacted the event heads. They were able to tell me that Ivy Verdinfall had entered the tournament and been giving a standing, but there was no record of her actually competing. I thought that was rather strange, so I did a small investigation. I found records of her graduation from Sanctum and her admittance to Beacon, among a few other things. But one thing was noticeably absent: there were no signatures on her transcripts."
Weiss balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
"I was curious about this little anomaly, so I ran searches on Linna Sky and Lilac Mae, and found very similar results. Naturally, I was rather concerned by this. I hired a private investigator in Vale to discover the truth."
Matching pairs of ice blue eyes locked in a fierce gaze. "You've been spying on me."
"And you have been lying to me," Arktis growled, reaching into his suit pocket and dropping a photograph onto the desk between them.
Slowly, Weiss leaned forward and came face-to-face with an image of herself. She was standing on Beacon's rooftop, arms around a tall girl in black, kissing her passionately. Blake's feline ears were very prominent in the photo. There was no doubt, no way to interpret the situation for anything other than what it was. Weiss felt a sort of relief, for just an instant, at the realization that she could let the lie fall to the wayside. The feeling faded the moment she met her father's piercing gaze, accompanied by a noticeable blast of frigid air against her face.
"Well, now you know," she managed to say, despite the dryness of her throat.
Her father lunged across the desk. The movement was surprisingly quick for a man of his age, and Weiss was too stunned to resist when a huge hand closed around the collar of her dress, lifting her up as his other hand collided with her face. The slap carried enough force to knock her over, and would have done so, had it not been for the firm grip on her collar. Stars exploded in front of her vision, but she managed to bite her lip to keep from crying out, one hand automatically gripping Myrtenaster's hilt at her side, eyes watering when she opened them again to face him.
His face was twisted into a mask of rage. "I catch you kissing a degenerate, and that's what you have to say to me?"
"Let go of me."
Another slap made contact, and this time she felt the harsh sting of metal just below her scar. Still, she did not allow herself to scream.
"Explain yourself," he demanded, releasing her. She fell back into her chair, hand reaching up to touch the point of impact. There was a cut where his ring had hit her, and a small trickle of warm liquid was falling down her cheek. She pulled back her hand to examine the blood.
"If I tell you that I love her, are you going to hit me again?" she forced out, bracing herself for another slap.
It did not come. "I would tell you that you are a fool, because she does not love you back."
Weiss grit her teeth, barely suppressing the rage that bubbled beneath the surface. "You're wrong."
The mask was back, cold and calculating. "An animal cannot love you, Weiss."
The pressure proved too much, and Weiss exploded. "Stop calling her an animal! Stop calling her a degenerate! She's a person!" she roared, shaking with fury as she shot up off the chair, slamming her fists onto the desk and leaving a small pool of blood. "And you're too full of blind prejudice to see that! She's been beaten down by humans her entire life, and she still made the right choice. She doesn't hate us, even though she has every right to. Yet you hate her because of her ears!"
"Have you forgotten how long this family has been at war with the faunus?" Arktis reminded, ice dripping from his tone, "How many board members have lost their lives?"
"This family is at war with the White Fang," Weiss clarified, leaning forward on the desk. "A terrorist organization that does not represent all of the faunus!"
"And has it even occurred to you that she might be using you?" he slammed his own fists on the desk, glaring down at her. "How can you involve yourself with an animal who would probably love nothing more than to put a blade through your chest?"
"You don't even know her!" Weiss snarled.
"And yet I assure you, I could hire the best assassins in Remnant to make her disappear, if I wanted to."
The temperature in the room plummeted immediately at the insinuation. Weiss gripped the desk beneath her until her knuckles stood like sharp peaks of white against the dark wood.
"I could erase her with just a hand wave," Arktis continued. He watched his daughter's hands as he spoke, taking note of the thin lines of frost that began spreading slowly across the top of the wood. "It really would be quite easy."
Weiss shook her head roughly and found her voice. "You can't."
"It is not a matter of whether I can," he said firmly. "It is a matter of whether or not I trust you to make the proper decisions for yourself," for a moment, he seemed to think, piercing eyes threatening to rip her apart. "Ordinarily, I would have said that I do not. But I like to imagine that, given the responsibilities that come with the full inheritance, you will come to realize on your own that what you are doing is a foolish, destructive waste of time."
Her own heartbeat pounded so loudly in her ears that she almost couldn't hear him. The fears for Blake's life had been burning a hole in the back of her brain ever since the moment Jaune had slipped up in front of her father. No matter how many times Blake assured that she was fine, that she could take care of herself, she felt the weight in her father's words when he spoke about killing Blake with all the disdain of a man speaking of killing the vermin in his house.
"Winter's mistakes cannot be fixed, but there may still be time to correct your gross ineptitude."
Weiss called on every ounce of self-control in her body to stop her from reaching across the desk. "I would like to leave now," she said softly.
"I will be calling your Headmaster, and I'm quite certain that I will contact you soon. In the meantime, I want you to think about what I have said today. You are now the sole inheritor of SDC, and I do hope that you will reflect on what that means. For now, you may go," he allowed. "Clean your face off."
The moment he gave her permission, she turned on her heel and marched towards the elevator.
"Weiss."
She almost kept walking.
"You are a Schnee," he reminded her, icy gaze sending a shudder down her spine before she stepped through the door.
