Before we begin, there is something to say:
This chapter took far longer than it should have. Once more, I am very sorry for that. After the long wait I hope this is still of the quality you all expect in my writings, as I took lengthy care to be sure it measured up to my own expectations. Also, I have recently been fortunate enough to receive the rather expert input and help of another fine author, Sapphic Bias. With her aid was this chapter cleaned up, and I cannot thank her enough for it.
And now, without further ado, I give you all...
Chapter 3
Dance Fever
Ϯ
When they awoke on Wednesday—once more at their own places apart—the weather outside was quite overcast. Early spring, as it is wont to do, had brought dark skies and a light drizzle to blanket the city of Constance. It left a thin sheen of dew across all the firmament and gave the air a cleaner feel, a better smell that cities such as this rarely experience.
Weiss and Ruby, leaving at nearly the same time, walked out into that drizzle with slightly dour spirits. Restless sleep had greeted both of them, made their dreams vivid and distracting. But when they smelled that cleaner air and felt its cool touch, their dour moods became somewhat better. Were it only that such things could long last.
Now, on the other side of Constance nearly, in the dormitories provided for staff of the MTU, another odd pair were rousing themselves to the day. One had been up for some few hours by this point (nearly seven in the morning), but the other had only just woken himself. Ever the lazy sort he was, much to the chagrin of his 'handler,' as she now considered herself.
Winter Schnee and Levi Ansleif, exiting two different rooms in the staff dormitories at nearly the same moment, met gazes from across the long hall. Levi's vibrant emerald eyes were visible to the piercing blue of Winter even over the twenty-some-odd yards between them. He gave her a hearty grin. She returned no such gesture.
"Top of the morning to ya, Lady Schnee!" he shouted.
The icy woman only sighed, irritated already at the prospect of having to share yet more of her time with the buffoon. Oh, she was surely going to have words with Jacques about this. Later problems those, though.
Ignoring his grin and hearty greeting, Winter started down the hall toward the exit onto the terrace. She had half a mind to entirely ignore the odd fellow and proceed straightaway to the school's train cradle—where she might could catch Weiss, were she to hurry. Winter gave up on this notion, however, when Levi began to jog down the hall, his long-coat's tail billowing behind him. Instead she sucked in a quick breath and steeled herself for his tomfoolery.
"Say," said Levi, now caught up to Winter, "didn't I get a message from you yesterday? Something about a discreet missive you wanted delivered to your father?"
"As a matter of fact, you did," answered Winter coarsely. "I would wonder, then, why you saw fit not to even respond, much less to entirely ignore me."
"Business, fair Madam." Levi tipped his garish hat and gave a slight bow. "'Twas nothing to worry thee over, I assure. But I'm free as the dickens now; would you like my courier service, still?"
His accent, attempting something between a backwoods hick and a Vacuan ranch-hand, was grating her nerves fiercely. Even still, Winter swallowed her ire and reached into her coat pocket. She too had worn a long-coat this morn, seeing already the state of the weather long before leaving her quarters, and in it had packed away the missive she'd prepared the night before.
Holding the letter in her hands now—just about to give it over—she thought better of the recipient. Jacques Schnee, after all, was rarely thought of as either trustworthy or honest. Even to his own kin, pity as that was.
"On second thought," said Winter, handing over the letter, "why don't you see this to Axter Levaleis? You do know who that is, yes?"
"Of course!" Levi proclaimed, taking the letter at the same moment. "Fine old friend to you Schnees, yes I know of him. Any timeline in mind?"
Winter looked into the emerald eyes staring intently at her, perhaps a bit deeper than she'd meant to. Suddenly and quite frighteningly, she felt her heart lurch and skip a few beats, her face flush, and her breathing become a tad labored. It was as though—heavens and gods forfend—she were some schoolgirl standing before her crush.
"Posthaste," she said at last, with a mighty huff that would have been more appropriate from her sister.
"And should I expect a return?" Levi pressed. "Perhaps some article I am to present, so he knows it is truly from thee? One never knows when spies and spooks are imitating honest messengers, milady."
Ah yes, the inevitable, unavoidable jibe. This was Levi after all, that damnable oaf her father had pushed off on her. Funny he should mention spies, Winter thought, being that he was indeed one for all intents and purposes.
"Just shut that idiot mouth of yours and be off," Winter answered him. "If I could send this over other, less obtuse means then I would. Anything to avoid dealing with you, good Sir, I assure you."
"Is it really that important?" Levi turned the simple envelope over, looked it up and down as though he were attempting to read through the paper. When he was satisfied—either with his act or his attempt—he looked back up for Winter.
She was already halfway out the door to the terrace.
"It is important enough," said Winter over her shoulder, "that I will have more than a pound of flesh from you if you either lose it, fail to deliver it, or goof off and do not return an answer to me in decent time. Is that clear enough for you?"
Winter looked back at him. Levi met her gaze with nary a glimmer of fear, almost looking excited even. He grinned wide and vicious.
"Oh, crystal clear," said he.
Ђ
Class began at o-nine-hundred sharp, just as usual. Fortunately, Winter seemed in better spirits today, to Weiss's wit, even despite her pallid features and general look of illness. If she hadn't come straight in and started going through the end of year motions—passing out yet more paperwork, lecturing about the necessity for care when choosing their career-line courses, going on about the dance on Friday yet again—the younger Schnee might have thought her sister sick.
Things went off mostly without a hitch though, so there was that. Lucius still hadn't shown back up but all seemed nonplussed about this. It was generally assumed he'd be back in time for the dance, knowing his blueblood family and connections.
Lunch came at thirteen-hundred. Weiss and Ruby hurried to the café for a tiny snack—a cup of fruit and yogurt, tea to drink—and class went on. By sixteen-hundred, all was done. They left without so much as a word from Winter, chatting idly with each other over this and that, walking leisurely toward the train cradle at the front of the MTU.
On their way, when casting a glance her direction, it hit Weiss once more just how gorgeous Ruby looked this day. Her hair had a slight shine to it and the scent of strawberries and lilacs hung about her like an airy curtain. And though her attire was nothing special—black slacks and a loose-fitting, lightly purple blouse coupled with a soot-grey shawl—there almost appeared to be an ethereal element to her as the heiress continued to sneak quick peeks. Weiss did her best not to be noticed at this, as they walked along.
Then, when Ruby made mention of the dance on Friday, Weiss's eyes glossed over briefly and she stopped dead still.
"Are you alright, Weiss?" came Ruby's gentle voice.
The heiress looked up at her, face growing a bit pallid and stomach turning. She wished thoroughly she'd brought an umbrella, for what was earlier not much more than a drizzle was now becoming actual rain. It felt awfully cold to her heated flesh.
"I'm fine," she said, then shook her head. "No, actually, I guess I'm not."
Weiss looked around for a moment to ascertain whether or not they were in earshot of others. Some few of their fellows walked by here and there, going their way to whatever business had them about. None, however, were terribly close or seemed to be paying either the heiress or her love any mind. Satisfied, she turned back to Ruby.
"Mind if I come over?" she asked.
"To my place?"
"No, to the shattered moon," the heiress quipped, trying for humor.
Between her tone and suddenly-odd demeanor, Ruby mistook it for actual ire and slunk away slightly.
"Sorry," Weiss said, "that wasn't supposed to sound so harsh."
Ruby shook her head and waved one hand as if to say it was fine, offering a weak smile.
"Yes, well, in any case… I was talking about coming over to your place. Do you mind?"
"No, not at all. Any… particular reason?"
The heiress began her walk again, passing Ruby as she said, "I'd just like to hang out with you. Not very interested in my own company right now."
Ruby thought to ask her more, but decided against it. Instead she followed the heiress on toward the cradle, where they boarded a train and went on their way.
Ђ
The train ride was uneventful and about as boring as train rides are wont to be. What had earlier been idle and leisurely chat between them was now an awkward, slightly nervous silence. A few times Ruby tried to ask the heiress what was on her mind. Each time though, upon looking Weiss's way to speak, she thought better of it at the look in her girlfriend's eyes. Something was wrong and off but she simply couldn't work up the courage to ask what.
Then, perhaps halfway through the ride, an idea occurred to Ruby. She mulled it over for but a moment before turning to Weiss, having finally found some courage to speak.
"Hey, Weiss," she started, perhaps a bit quiet, "how would you feel about seeing a movie?"
The heiress looked over, met her gaze and repeated, "A movie?"
"Yeah." Ruby nodded a few times, smile already forming. Weiss seemed interested, at least. "When I'm feeling down or worried, a good movie usually picks me up. I mean, obviously not for the bad things, but if it's just a sour mood or something…"
Ruby looked into the icy eyes before her, awaiting some response. When nothing came, she went on.
"Anyway, The Dark Tower came out a while ago. Couple weeks, I think?"
"Something like that," agreed the heiress. "Pretty sure I remember seeing an ad or two."
"Yeah, well, why don't we go see it?"
"Tonight?"
"Uh huh."
"Hm…" hummed the heiress, considering the notion briefly before saying, "Sounds good to me."
Ruby gave her a wide, happy grin.
And so, rather than get off at their original stop they remained on the train for two more. When it pulled into the cradle overlooking Librum Avenue, and adjacent to the restaurants and other attractions of Constance, they disembarked and were once more chatting in good humor as they went along.
Ђ
Just before they strolled up, Weiss realized they hadn't checked the showing times. To her slight relief and great surprise, they arrived right in time for an evening matinee. As such, they bought their tickets, hurried inside and picked up some concessions, and reached their seats as the last of the prescreening commercials was wrapping up.
Ruby looked simply ready to burst with excitement. Having borrowed and read through the first book and most of the second, Weiss was quite interested as well. Not near as much so as her girlfriend, but enough to be a bit anxious.
The film began and they watched in unmoving silence for a while. It was certainly a spectacle, the heiress observed, but clearly little more. Perhaps twenty minutes in and Ruby—growing irate almost from the first minute—began to bounce in her seat and quietly seethe.
"That's not how that goes!" she whispered in anger, to no one in particular.
Weiss leaned over and asked, "This is the same Dark Tower, right?" though she knew full well it was.
"Yeah," whispered Ruby, "but then again, King is known for this sort of thing. I'd… hoped he might surprise this time, that's all. I mean, this is his magnum opus…"
The heiress fully turned her gaze to Ruby, a tad shocked to hear her use such a word. Even in the dim light of the theater, Ruby could see the disbelief on her love's features. She giggled lightly, knowing exactly what it was for.
"I read for fun, Weiss," she said quietly, winking. "I've picked up a few fancy words here and there."
Weiss said nothing else, only smiled faintly and turned back to the screen. Ruby did the same and started to watch again. As the minutes ticked by and the film went on, she grew ever more infuriated with the treatment of one of her most beloved works of fiction. That is, until she felt a distinctly warm, slender hand wrap around her own.
Ruby quickly turned and saw the heiress doing her best not to notice her gaze, face flushing redder as the moments went by. She smiled at this and turned to the film again, no longer irked in the slightest as the rest played out.
Ђ
Neither of them knew what time it was. They knew it was dark, still cold, and miserably damp from all the rain. But they did not know the time.
The Dark Tower ended and they left. Its culmination had been about what Ruby came to expect half the way through the film, but despite the utter disappointment of this her spirits were quite high. She walked along the well-lit street of Librum Avenue, the heiress's hand wrapped around her own, face beaming and silver eyes glowing. Could have been half-past eternity for all she cared.
"You know," said Weiss, looking up at the passing streetlights as they went, "I think Elba did a good job. He certainly had the no-nonsense attitude down pat. But… those guns he was using, aren't they cap-fired?"
"Pah!" Ruby snorted a laugh. "Yeah, I noticed that too. I think it's supposed to be a play on that old spaghetti-western trope. Ever seen The Man with No Name trilogy?"
"No." Weiss shook her head.
Their pace slowed to a leisurely drawl, little more than a shuffle.
"Well, in most of the old westerns—that being one of the more widely-known examples—they used cap-fires like shell-fires. Why, though, I have no idea..."
"Just an oddity of creative types, I suppose," mused the heiress.
They came to an intersection where the light had yet to turn green in their favor. Across the road, the sign housing the walk-signal displayed a bright orange palm. Weiss looked at the woman on her left while she awaited the crosswalk to change, once more drinking in her muted beauty. That and how the streetlight's golden glow further accentuated the piercing silver of her eyes.
"I'm sorry for snapping earlier," said Weiss suddenly.
Ruby looked over, met her stare, and said, "It was nothing. We all get stressed out."
"No," pressed the heiress, "it wasn't nothing. And it surely isn't how I should be acting toward you of all people."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Ruby offered.
The heiress looked away, back at the now-flashing orange palm on the crosswalk sign. Her face scrunched up a tad, brow furrowing and lips curving in a frown. Not a deep one, but enough to see.
"That dance…" said Weiss after a sigh.
"You don't want to go, do you?" Ruby finished her thought.
Weiss looked at her again, met her icy-blues to those gleaming silvers. She smiled thinly and gave a short chuckle.
"No, I don't."
"Because of us?"
"In a manner of speaking." Weiss nodded, looked away again and tightened her grip on Ruby's hand. "But it's just as well. I can guarantee my father is only putting it on to preen about his child's ascendance over the company. 'Look, see here! My daughter—this fine woman—will soon rule over you all!'"
Both shared a laugh at Weiss's terrible imitation of her father's voice, though Ruby had never heard the man speak and knew nothing of how he truly sounded. Still, the sound and tone were quite hilarious. Even moreso the look on the heiress's face as she made the imitation.
"Are you embarrassed?" Ruby asked after the laughter passed them.
"No," answered Weiss simply.
"Are you worried, then?"
"Yes," she answered, again as simply.
"About being exposed?"
Ruby felt the heiress's grip tighten once more, heard her breathing speed up and felt the woman's racing pulse against her palm. And even through the cold of the post-rain early spring, she felt the heat radiating from her girlfriend as it grew in intensity. Had there been light enough, she might even have seen the full-body blush starting to consume the silver-headed woman beside her.
"I love you," said Weiss, a bit quietly since they were very much in public. "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And I don't want anything to even chance jeopardizing what we have."
"You don't think you could just go, rub shoulders with the important who's, and pretend it's all normal for a few hours?"
Weiss laughed sharp and shrilly at that.
"Maybe," she said, wistfully, "but I'm not sure what my normal is anymore. Plus—considering you would most certainly be swarmed—I don't think I could hold myself from slapping any man that tried to dance with you. I hope it doesn't disgust you, but I'm starting to think I might be the jealous type."
To this, Ruby gave a seraphic little giggle, as though a playful cherub.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were," she said. "Affluential people tend to be… possessive. Believe me, it's no worry."
"Still…"
Weiss sighed. This time, it was Ruby whose grip tightened. She even pulled the heiress a little closer, until their shoulders touched and both could feel the other's warmth through the cold air.
"Still your heart, Weiss," said Ruby. "And stop worrying so much. Say, do you remember what you said when you stopped me from running?"
Trying to suppress her blush, the heiress answered, "It hasn't been that long, of course I remember. Why?"
Ruby released her grip on Weiss's hand and slipped free, then draped her arm over the taller woman's shoulders and pulled her close. With a tight grip this was, a friendly half-hug full of more-than-friendly emotion.
"I'm here for you, Weiss," she said. "No matter what you choose, I'm here for you."
The crosswalk sign turned from a red palm to a flashing white display of a walking person. Some few cars still on the rode sped off, heading to whatever had them in such a hurry, and the two women began to cross. Both were blushing quite powerfully and one was now blanking out in her mind. But still they went, giving not a care to who might see the display of their affection as they walked along. They knew it not, but only one pair of eyes watched them go, the few others out and about having not even a passing interest in their affairs.
And those eyes, accentuated by the streetlights, were a vibrant, glowing gold.
Ω
Far off in the city of Constance, two women were quite busy sleeping away the wee hours as the clock strolled listlessly on toward o-two-hundred. One Weiss Schnee, snoring gently and femininely, and one Ruby Rose, snoring a bit louder but about as girlishly, lay tangled up in the latter's covers with nary a care on their minds. For one must note that those minds, though burdened awfully with their own woes, had been relieved at least for the eve of those selfsame stresses by the succor of good company.
On the far eastern edge of Atlas, however, a scene of not-so-peaceful descript was unfolding. Within a little cottage that would have looked more at home nestled deep in a forest, rather than overlooking the tumultuous waves of the sea from its perpetually-frozen vantage atop an icy shelf. Two men were busy meeting therein, readying to discuss things which at any moment could upset the peace between them. No, there was no good company there, no amicable or amiable camaraderie…
"Levi Ansleif it is, yes?"
"So I am, Ser Axter."
The little old man shifted in his seat, which was comically large for his diminutive stature. His tired old eyes hidden by terribly drooping lids looked from Levi to the window closest to his door. He lifted one hand from his cane and pointed a stubby, gnarled finger.
"There the door is," he said. "Ask you I have, not to call me Ser. Many times now, yes. Make use of the door you should, if heed my request you cannot."
Levi grinned, showing off his inhumanly straight teeth.
"Prithee forgive my rudeness. Just Axter, then?"
The old man gave a small smile and nodded once, saying, "Do just fine that will. Now, if talk about this letter we may…"
Axter hopped down from his chair and tottered over to a coffee table none too far away. On it was a quaint display of wax fruit, flanked by a pair of lit candlesticks made of tarnished brass. In front of the bowl was the letter. He took it up in his shivering grip before returning to his chair. Though he had to struggle a bit, he managed to climb back into it and turned to face Levi once more.
"Ask you first, I must, why she has chosen such roundabout methods for delivery. Do you know?"
The strange man gave only a slow, deliberate shake of his head, emerald eyes never leaving Axter's.
"Hm…" He scratched his chin idly, looking the letter over. "Passing strange, that is. In some trouble has she found herself?"
Axter looked back up to meet Levi's stare, only to receive a shrug this time.
"Lie to you I will not," the old man went on. "Trust you I do not. But, if in you has Jacques his own trust placed—his daughters to look after—then refuse you I shan't."
"Most kind, Axter," said Levi. "Truly the Schnees know how to choose their confidants. Were it only the youngest of them were not so… brash in her choice of company."
Axter suddenly slammed the tip of his cane on the hardwood floor. The racket it caused echoed throughout the little cottage and shook some plates in a nearby curio.
"My words carefully heed, young man," he said, eyes fully open and casting Levi a terrible glower. "If wise you are, interfere with that business you will not. Most regrettable to see you come to harm it would be. Yes, very much indeed."
But Levi only met the little old man with an equally powerful glower, the cruel shine of his emerald eyes matching that of Axter's lavender. So they stared for a minute, perhaps even two. Until the will of Axter's glare overcame the defiance of Levi's own and the younger relented, casting his gaze instead to the fireplace popping away on the far wall.
The wind howled hard outside. The sound of the roiling sea lapping the icy shelf reached them through the thick logs of the cottage wall. Just beyond the fireplace, on the outside, the sound of snow shifting and collapsing under its own weight crackled lightly.
"As for the letter," said Axter, "tell Winter I will come, you may. The time and the place, only send me she must. Through other means if manage she can."
"As you will, Axter." Levi stood and gave a deep bow, just as garish as his getup. "Will you not be penning your own response, then?"
"For that, no need there is."
"Very well. Then, if that is all, I will take my leave."
Levi watched the little old man hop from his chair again, scuttle across the hardwood floor and begin undoing the latches on his door. When the last was undone, Axter opened the mighty pine barrier—allowing in a torrent of snow and howling wind—and motioned toward the pitch-black tundra beyond.
"Most pleasant that would be," he said.
Levi said not another word, only took his leave. The door slammed shut behind him, and for a moment he wondered at what capabilities the old man must be hiding to so effortlessly close it against the raging blizzard. But that was neither here nor there, as he well knew. Witchy work was as yet undone in the city of Constance, and he needed to head back.
Once he'd traveled far enough from Axter's cottage, Levi locked his hands together over his head and stretched, sucking in a deep breath of the bitingly cold air. Satisfied, he then waved one hand—fingers splayed in the shape of a runic 'b'—and watched the air shiver. It was clear as day, like heat drifting off of fresh asphalt, despite the absolute dark and driving snow. The air shuddered and twisted, writhed and seethed, until it took weight and shape.
In but a moment it was a door, of simple design and simpler function.
"Next stop: Constance, University City of the Schnee Dust Company!" Levi shouted to the blizzard, followed quickly with a howl of laughter.
He took hold of the simple brass knob and twisted, stepping through as the door opened up. Shaking snow and dirt from his garish cowboy boots all over the gorgeous marble floor, he shut the door behind him and gave a satisfied huff. It hummed for a moment before reverting to what it had been: a door along the lengthy hallway to Winter's office at the MTU.
With a little sign next to it that read 'All-World Conference Room.'
Ђ
Thursday morning came and it was about as humdrum as the previous.
Weiss and Ruby awoke in the latter's apartment, a little later than they had meant to. It seemed Ruby's little antique clock had finally given up the ghost. The arms were frozen at fifteen past two, and no matter Ruby's effort it would not start up again. Once they had finished their morning routine and made ready to leave, Weiss asked if she could open the thing up and have a look at it.
"You know how to work on clocks?" mused Ruby aloud, watching her girlfriend tinker. "Gosh, is there anything you don't know?"
"Funny you should say that," said Weiss with a chuckle, "cuz I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing. But…" She twisted something, undid a screw, and a loud pop echoed through the room. "I'm fairly sure this broken spring is why it stopped. Good luck finding a replacement without spending a fortune…"
Weiss held out the aforementioned spring, now in three pieces. Ruby took one piece and looked it over for a moment before placing it back in the heiress's hand.
"It had a good, long run," she said.
"So I can see," Weiss agreed, trying to slip the pieces back into place. Satisfied they would not loose themselves and get lodged somewhere, she shut the back of the clock up and replaced the screws. "It's a pity though, losing such a fine piece of Mistrali manufacture. I'd almost say it belongs in a museum."
"Should have donated it, huh?"
The heiress made no remark, only shrugged and sat the clock back on Ruby's desk.
"Think your sister will be mad we're late?" Ruby asked, changing the subject.
"Probably," answered Weiss, "but there's nothing to be done about it. Shall we be off?"
Ruby gave her a thin smile and nodded. And so, they did exactly such, leaving her apartment and starting their trek for the school.
They held lighthearted conversation the whole way, avidly avoiding mention of Friday's dance. On Weiss's part, at least, for Ruby's mind was firmly affixed to the subject. She kept her mouth silent on it but could not help her thoughts constantly turning to it.
One might wonder why, and one would be understandable to do such. But as is oft the case with such matters, 'twas a most simple reason behind it. Perhaps wrongly placed, or misunderstood, or even flat-out incorrect—yet it was still an understandable reason.
Ruby felt she owed the heiress.
Ђ
When their classes ended and all were dismissed, Winter called Weiss and Ruby to her lectern. She gave them a short chiding for their late arrival and made as if she would say more. But after a few brief moments of nothing, she decided against it.
"I hope the two of you will enjoy tomorrow evening's festivities," said Winter instead.
"I'm… sure we will," answered Weiss.
Ruby said nothing, only offered a sheepish smile. Their muster teacher gave both a worried look and left. As too did the rest of the class, one by one filing through the door. The heiress turned to her girlfriend once she was sure they were alone.
"We on for tonight?" she asked.
"Yeah," said Ruby, "but are you sure you're not getting bored of hanging out with me so much?"
Weiss gave it no thought, saying, "I'm quite sure. Besides, I'd like to give that game another shot. Relieve some tension before tomorrow's big event."
"Sounds good to me." Ruby nodded her head, thinking a bit. "Yeah, Souls games have a way of relieving stress, despite how infuriating they can get."
The heiress also gave a nod. She then looked up at the clock on the wall, just above Winter's lectern. Her gaze met the hands, reading them, but her mind wandered quickly to other places. Ruby noted her lost stare but said nothing, having nothing truly to say.
"How's seven?" asked Weiss, still staring at the clock.
"That'll work. Want me to order some takeout?"
"Nah," the heiress sighed, "I'll be sure to bring something. Mind if I come straight over?"
She turned back to Ruby, meeting their jeweled gazes. The raven-headed vixen only shook her head and smiled, assenting without a word. So too went their parting after that. The heiress gave a goodbye-wave and left, off to see to her own business. And after a moment of silent contemplation, Ruby too went on through the door, deciding she might do a little shopping before Weiss's arrival.
Ͼ
Weiss took the train to Librum Avenue, intent on paying her grandfather's archives a visit this day. She rode the gently bumping, lightly swaying track in thoughtful quiet. With reserved calm she considered many things, thinking more and more on what she intended to search for. When the train pulled into its cradle, so too did she disembark in silence, ignoring every passerby as she went.
Across the concourse and down the stairs. Through five crosswalks and past some ten different shops. Over meticulously maintained sidewalks the likes of which would only be expected in brand-new cities. And finally, through the massive ghost-steel doors of the Grand Constance Archives, largest library on Atlas and third across all of Remnant.
It was like a castle on the inside, both in the architecture as well as the size. Aisles and aisles of bookcases formed a labyrinth, dizzying at only a glance, stretching fifteen feet toward the next floor. Some four feet above these literary monoliths was the finest Atlesian pine one could buy, sanded to the point of velvet smoothness, forming the ceiling above the bookcases. So went each of the thirty floors, winding upward in a dizzying spiral of knowledge and records that would surely make even a deity of arcana quite jealous.
The heiress spent only a moment deciding where to go. She shooed off one librarian and two eager interns on her way, climbing seven winding flights of stairs and passing through twenty long aisles. At last, she came to the Company Annals, wherein were detailed the every event of the SDC since its inception.
"Let's see…" she muttered to herself, strolling leisurely down the chosen aisle. "Was it… the Fourth? No, no… the Seventh! Yes, that was it…"
With a satisfied huff, Weiss knelt down and picked what could only be described as a tome from the second shelf off the floor. It was heavy—at least six pounds—and easily as thick as four normal books put together. And in her grip, light and careful though it was, the thing felt ready to crumble to dust at the slightest provocation.
She held it to her bosom and made for the end of the aisle, searching for a decently tucked away spot to have a look. A table set up for two suited her fancy just fine and the heiress had herself a seat, once more giving in to the habit she had picked up from her love.
Just in front of a large, stained-glass window stretching some ten feet from top to bottom, Weiss Schnee opened up the tome and began to carefully peer over its contents. Perhaps thirty minutes passed of careful poring before she spotted what it was she was after, and began to read aloud to herself. Quietly enough not to be overheard, of course, though this made her action no less nonsensical.
"…As agreed upon by the founding members and primary interest holders, this contract is to be binding and irrefutable in any court or before any magistrate across the Kingdoms…" She continued to scan, mouthing the occasional word or two, until she thought the desired paragraph was found. "The newly termed 'Schnee Dust Company', which is now the parent entity of the 'ColdWater Consortium', shall select for itself a leading head from amongst its board members. All eligible are outlined in the earlier codified agreement, subsection alpha, point twenty-two…"
Further on she read, disappointed and a bit irked not to have found the right spot. Though perhaps it shouldn't have, the complex garble and legalese of the book surprised even her. It read as though another language entirely, confusing definitions and sometimes even coining entirely new words where it suited the writers. But at last she found it, the one sentence that truly concerned her in the entire, six-pound book.
"Should any dissent be found among the board, and on the burden of only one-third, a vote to dismiss actions of the company head may be assessed."
Weiss leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath, shut her eyes and tilted her head to the Atlesian pine ceiling above. For a few minutes she simply sat there, breathing in the musty scent of old books and their yellowed pages, enjoying the warmth of the Archive. Then she sat up again, shut the book gently and stared off into the ether.
"Maybe both," she said to herself. "Maybe both…"
α
Ruby did not take the train, nor did she seek out a cab. Instead she decided to walk her way through the megalithic city of Constance, letting her mind to wander as her feet carried her along.
It wasn't rainy this day but the sky was still overcast from the previous. In the early spring chill, this meant quite a bit of biting cold. Such did not faze Ruby Rose, however, as thoughts of Weiss and their evening ahead—when they popped into her mind's eye—warmed her considerably. Demon's Souls and an evening of sharing its tribulations, even if only simulated. And either before or after, a meal together which would surely call for talk. Yes, talk; something so simple yet so very enjoyable…
So she paced along, step after step over sidewalks and foot-roads. Boots clicking and thumping on concrete and cobblestone. Her cloak, worn this day for the slight chill, billowed lazily behind her, whipping and tousling as it played with the breeze. Occasionally she would stop and listen to a bird chirping away or a squirrel barking in a nearby tree. When she reached the Arboretum—some four miles off from the MTU, at the border of Third Plaza where the mainstay shopping areas lay—Ruby even took the time to saunter off into the massive garden.
It wasn't like Memorial Park where the statue of Weiss's grandfather stood watch over his University City. There the grass was well kempt and maintained, cut close and uniform to be pleasing to discerning eyes. The trees were lined just properly and what flowers there were lay arranged in tightly uniform beds, oft surrounding statues or other memorials. In the Arboretum it was different, like a small Eden unto itself. Trees and flowers, bushes and brush, small fields and even an open savanna of a miniscule scale were left to grow wild, maintained at all only at the borders.
Ruby stepped in and stopped, looking at her watch. It was only a hair past sixteen-fifteen, so she decided a bit of time wandering would be both doable as well as do her some good. A bit of time to relax. To stop and smell the flowers—quite literally in this case.
She did exactly such, pulling up her cloak's hood and beginning to take small steps over the wild grass. Before long she came across a patch of flowers—a mishmash of so many kinds, it looked almost out of place—and bent to smell some forget-me-nots. As she did, a small butterfly lit on a nearby sunflower, picking at the center with its hair-like tongue and fluttering its bright blue-grey wings.
"Amazing, isn't nature?"
Ruby spun around on the distinctly masculine voice, more than a little spooked. What she saw was a very odd fellow dressed like a Vacuan gunslinger from some old spaghetti-western. Atop his head was a wide-brimmed rancher's hat, from beneath which two emerald-green eyes gleamed. His nose, dusted with freckles to the cheekbones, wrinkled slightly as he too bent to sniff a flower. A strange one she didn't recognize, gangly and deep violet. Then he stood again, reaching surely seven feet at straight posture, and met Ruby's silver gaze.
"Sorry," said he. "Did I startle you?"
"A bit," Ruby admitted, relaxing somewhat as she remembered him. "Mister Scholar, right?"
The odd fellow nodded his head.
"I like to come here on occasion, contemplate the world a bit," he went on. "It's nice to see a student doing the same. Prithee, forgive me my imprudent greeting—I got ahead of myself. So many that attend the university act like they have not the time to spare for this place. Always so busy, always so preoccupied, always so…"
"Too frantic to stop and smell the flowers?" Ruby offered.
"Yes." The man smiled, barked a short laugh. "Exactly like that. No time to smell the flowers."
"It really is a shame…" Ruby turned away from him, looked at the mishmash flowerbed. "I'd almost like to take one. Guess that'd be rude though, huh?"
"Why would it be rude?" asked the man. "Furthermore, why would you want to take any? Don't think me sentimental, but why kill such beauty for only temporary ownership?"
At that, Ruby had to actually think. She opened her mouth to respond twice, each time shutting it again with nothing to say. It was a good question. Strange yes, and certainly catching her flat-footed, but a good question nonetheless.
"I guess…" she muttered at last. "I guess, I'd just like to have one. Not for me, but for someone else."
The strange man crossed his arms and shifted, his long-coat crackling a bit at the movement.
"Someone special?"
"Yes," answered Ruby, sounding dreamy. "Someone very special to me."
She turned away from the flowerbed and approached a nearby oak, whose trunk was easily thick as her height and tall as a decently-sized building. The canopy up top blocked out nigh-all of what little sunlight managed to pierce the overcast sky. She looked up at it, watched the little pinpricks of light (stardust) dancing in the slight breeze. The man considered her, noted the frowning of her features as Ruby seemed to become lost in herself.
"Ruby Rose, wasn't it?" he asked after perhaps a minute of silence.
"Yeah," she answered, still dreamy.
"Prithee tell, what consternates thee so?"
It took a moment to process, that strange man's question. Posed in a dialect Ruby had not heard spoken before, only read, the words had trouble sinking in. When they did, she turned back to him, her eyes meeting his and becoming lost in the emerald glow.
'Glow?' she wondered. 'They… glow?'
"It's…" she mumbled, touching her forehead lightly. "Well, my girlfriend, she's going through a lot I think. Much more than she's telling me. I'm worried about her. I want to help her, work through it with her, but I'm not sure I can…"
Ruby's head swam as she looked at those glowing emeralds beneath the rancher's hat. When the man smiled her heart thudded and skipped two beats. Her breath caught in her throat and the flesh of her shoulders prickled with goosebumps.
'Why did I say that?' she asked herself. 'It's supposed to be a secret, so why did I say that?!'
"Thou lookest alarmed," said the man, smiling serenely at her. "Hath I upset thee, fair Rose?"
"No, it's alright. I'm fine, really, just a bit dizzy. I think…"
She touched her forehead again, wondering at the warmth throbbing behind it. Tried to look away from the shining emeralds beneath the man's hat. Yet, try as she might, Ruby could no more look away than she could will night to day. Her silver gaze was stuck much as an insect in amber.
"I believe," said the man, turning away, "Miss Schnee would like that flower best. And perhaps one of those, also."
He pointed to two in particular, a stalk of monkshood and a bright-pink lily. Ruby followed his pointing finger. The flowers, paired together, did indeed look gorgeous. She was quite sure Weiss would like them.
It occurred to her not that she hadn't mentioned her girlfriend by name.
"Thanks," she said. Ruby walked to the flower bed and picked the top two inches off a monkshood before snapping off a lily. "You've got a good eye. Are you a botanist too, Mister Scholar?"
"No, just a man of many talents. Or perhaps I should say interests." He turned to her, shallowly tipped his hat. "Now, might I enquire what worries you so about her? What has your girlfriend embroiled herself in?"
Ruby sniffed the lily before saying, "There's this dance Friday. She told me she doesn't want to go, but I think there's more to it than that…"
"She doesn't want to chance being found out," the man proposed.
"Yeah. But it's more than that even, I'm sure. I think it's also that, well… maybe she's just tired of high society?"
"Or maybe she's sick of being around all these blowhards that think they know what's what?"
Ruby giggled, looked back at the man. The breeze picked up a little and began to play with his hair, casting it like a miniature cape out behind him. Something about the sight set her skin to flush, her heart to beating faster, and her breathing erratic. She wasn't alarmed by this though, caught up so in the emerald jewels beneath his hat.
"Love's pretty fucked up," said the man, turning away. The wind continued to play with his coal-black hair. "Draws us into these traps, see? Makes us act all funny, screw up ourselves, stop being who we are. Really nuggles the noggin."
"Nuggles?" parroted Ruby.
"Sorry." The man laughed. "Meant confuses, I s'pose."
"Mm…"
She sniffed the lily again. And the monkshood after. Then she cast her gaze over the Arboretum, taking in what she could see. The playful breeze swept across the tiny savanna just beyond the tree line, made it look as a roiling green ocean. She stared, her heartbeat picking up further. Sweat began to prick at her skin. A flush crept through her cheeks.
"Perhaps…" said the man, starting to walk away. "Yes, perhaps t'would be good if the two of you shared a dance, but one of thy own making and chosen location? Hearts embroiled so would do well to heed one another. Yes, I think so…"
When he said this, a brief image played through Ruby's head. A starlit sky, the soft drone of stringed instruments and other orchestral sorts milling behind them from inside a large, empty place. A familiar place. The warmth of Weiss, held in her arms, pressed against her as they danced a sleepy waltz. A slight scent of fruity alcohol, faint traces of sawdust and something else. Flowers? Perfume? Paint? The moon, out in full bloom in all its shattered glory, gazing down on them. Painting both the fine silver of its muted, reflected sunlight.
"Thanks," said Ruby, addressing the strange man. "I think that's just…"
She turned to look at him and saw she was alone. Looking all around—turning this way and that, peering through the trees and bushes and brush, glancing over top of the many flowerbeds—she caught no glimpse of the odd fellow. No sign of his long-coat, no simple glance of his wide-brimmed hat, no trace whatsoever.
But rather than alarm, Ruby's heart felt at ease. What's more, she now knew what she should do. Could do and would do. Thanks to that strange man, whose name she still did not know. Whose dialect was more akin to an olden playwright than any living person she'd met before. Whose eyes shined like enchanted emeralds beneath his wide, black hat.
Ruby sighed, stuck the flowers in the neckline of her cloak and fished her scroll from her pocket. It was seventeen-hundred now, as she saw, so she sent two messages rather than just the one. The first was to Weiss, asking her to come at eight instead of seven.
The second…
ϴ
"I'm going to have to start charging you for these meetings, Ruby."
"Sorry, really I am. And also for what I'm about to ask…"
"If you're so sorry to ask, then why would you at all?"
Ruby looked up from her folded hands, meeting Mahogany's deep-brown eyes. They were nearly too dark to discern in the dim lighting of the Siren's Call. They did reflect just enough of the powerful stage lights though, sparkling a tad as they met her silver gaze in turn. The oak of a man smiled wide, indicating he either spoke in jest or friendly sarcasm.
"Try to be a little more confident in yourself," he went on, shifting in the booth chair. "If you've got a question to ask, don't be sorry for it; if you have a favor to request, be sure before you ask it."
"I can't really argue with that," Ruby admitted. "Thanks for seeing me either way."
"It's no problem, I'm sure. Now, ask your question or favor. There's still work I have to oversee and those damn-lazy contractors are like to slack off if I leave them to it alone."
"Actually, that's part of it." Ruby reached for her glass of water, took a sip to settle herself. "How much of the renovation is done?"
Mahogany leaned back and scratched his stubbly chin, gazed at the dark ceiling. Off somewhere in the back of the club, a saw spun up and began its loud whine as it cut through sheetrock. Or maybe it was wood. Whichever, it lasted only ten seconds (if that even) before it was silenced just as suddenly.
"I'd say the kitchen is probably all that's left unusable," said Mahogany at last. "Everything else is ready to run. The stage needs a few hours for that coat of paint to dry, but if I were to open tonight I could run things just fine. No food, but not many come to a strip club for the cuisine anyway."
"You actually offer some good choices here," Ruby commented absently.
"Be that as it may…" Mahogany sat up, went through the ritual of preparing a smokable and took a drag. "My point stands. The joint's ready to run, minus any food. Why do you ask?"
As he spoke, smoke drifted menacingly from his nose and mouth. It looked as though a fire were stoked somewhere in his throat.
"Well, I'm wondering…"
Ruby stopped, looked away. Her heart was racing mad, feeling as though it might come to a stop so frantic was the pace. But the image of that odd man in his odd getup—as though he belonged out in the untamed badlands, wrangling up rustlers and outlaws—played through her mind, unbidden. Their talk, remembered in full detail, settled her.
"I'd like to borrow the club," said Ruby, looking back up to meet Mahogany's now-shocked stare.
"I beg your pardon?"
She thought about it a moment, then asked, "Would you let me have the use of the Siren's Call tomorrow evening? Just me and one other?"
"What, exactly, are you wanting it for?" Mahogany pressed. He leaned forward and took another deep drag of his cigar, now thoroughly interested.
Ruby took a very deep breath, swelling her bosom and gathering her courage, and said…
Ͼ
Weiss looked herself over, head to toe, in the full-body mirror situated at the corner of her room. She checked each and every last detail of her attire with meticulous attention. Any stray fold or errant ruffle was mercilessly smoothed out; each wayward strand of hair on her head was ruthlessly put in place before being run over with an ivory brush. She straightened perfectly the thin straps lying over her delicate shoulders, adjusted the v-line of her dress to impeccable symmetry. Her makeup, which had taken well over an hour to so carefully apply, received several touch-ups and slight adjustments.
The heiress then looked at the clock on her desk. Seventeen-hundred it flashed, bright and obnoxious. Seeing it and knowing the time drew close, her heart picked up the pace a bit more. Her flesh began to tingle with the rush of blood and her head started to swim with anxiety.
"Damn it…" she muttered to herself, turning back to the mirror. "No idea why I'm even doing this… Why am I even doing this?!"
There was that impulse to hit the mirror again. A sudden, violent urge to shatter it and listen to the tinkle of the glass. Oh, how wonderful that would have felt, she thought. Especially given that, contrary to her wishes, the previous night had yielded no relief to her worries. If she could just shatter that lovely image of the good heiress Schnee staring back at her from behind the glass…
But with a dejected, defeated sigh, Weiss relinquished the thought and starved out the urge. She gave one last, thorough look-over and huffed in approval. Then she turned away and approached her desk, picked up her scroll and stared at it for a moment. Friday, seventeen-ten, it read. She swiped her pointer across the screen and was surprised to see a message indicator occupying the unlocked menu.
The heiress opened and read it, her heart racing ever faster as she did.
Λ
If you still don't want to go to the dance, send me a text. I think I have something in mind you'd enjoy a lot better. -Ruby
Quickly, she ticked out her reply, standing before her door.
I'm all ears.
A moment later, perhaps even a minute…
Then take the train over to my place. Oh, and would you let Winter know we won't be there? She kinda scares me.
The heiress did indeed send Winter the word. That text, however, was terribly misspelled and awfully punctuated, having been sent with a bouncing hand and shaking thumb as Weiss all but ran to the MTU cradle. Her heart felt ready to burst from her chest the whole way.
And quite unsurprisingly, she forgot all about the concern of keeping her outfit prim and proper.
Ђ
It was seventeen-fifty when Weiss arrived at Ruby's apartment. Though she'd not been as careful of her appearance on the way, she still looked more than presentable for a meeting of royalty or top-class executives. Even still, the heiress took a moment to calm herself and smooth out her hair before knocking.
Ruby heard the knock and opened the door almost immediately. She too was quite excited, quite nervous, and had been standing by the short hallway leading to her door. Waiting for Weiss to arrive. Listening for that knock that would knell the commencement of her brilliant—albeit hastily cobbled together—plan for the evening.
"Oh gosh, Weiss…" Ruby whispered on seeing her girlfriend in the doorway. "You look amazing!"
The heiress blushed a deep scarlet and looked down to her feet.
"Thank you," she managed. Then, on looking up, she said, "You look very lovely yourself."
Both wore evening gowns that seemed less suited to a school function and more appropriate for presentation before a king. Each looked over the other for some time, taking in every last detail their eyes possibly could, lost in the moment stretching out before them.
Weiss's was a slim, sleek model that clung tightly to her body from collar to hip. In the front it was but a single, smooth surface of fine cerulean hue, sporting a v-line that began just below her navel and tapered gradually upward until they became two thin straps that draped over her shoulders. These met behind her neck and made a sort of necklace that held the material up, leaving her back entirely exposed to view. This she remedied with a violet shawl held loosely to herself, somewhat obscuring the exposed, snowy flesh from sight. From the hip down, the dress bloomed out into a sort of wine flute shape, still remaining somewhat slim to her form with a goodly number of ruffles.
Ruby's was a similar model with a looser design, the deepest obsidian-black one could imagine. It covered her both back and front down to the hip, ending mid-neck in a sort of collar that sported a tourmaline pendant. Only one distinct spot there was on the front where her alabaster flesh peeked through. There, from just above the navel to just below her collarbone, the dress was split in the shape of a long, slender diamond. Below the hip the dress was opened on one side, starting perhaps five inches down her thigh, to create an almost Mistrali look. The hem ended right around the middle of her calf.
When her mind came back to her somewhat, the heiress noted it was a very familiar piece. Why, however, she couldn't quite grasp at that moment. Far too gone in the beauty of her love standing before her.
"I know we're a thing," said Ruby sheepishly, "but if you could not stare too much, I'd really appreciate it…"
Weiss looked up—having realized where her eyes had crawled to—and swiftly apologized. Ruby assured her it was no issue whatsoever, laughing it off.
"Anyway," Ruby went on, "why don't we get going? Oh, but before we do…" She turned around and headed into the apartment. When she came back, she held out a soft, black strip of cloth to the heiress. "I really hope you won't get weirded out, but can you put this on until we get there? I'd like to surprise you, if I can, with our… destination."
The heiress looked at the cloth in Ruby's hands for a moment. Then it dawned on her what it was, and what it was for. Slowly—and yea, a bit anxiously—she reached out for the blindfold and took it.
"Can it wait until we get to the train?" Weiss asked.
Ruby nodded.
"Alright then, I guess I'll humor you. But it better be good if this is necessary…"
"Oh, I think it will be," said Ruby with a wide, loving smile.
Weiss briefly wondered what in blue blazes she was doing, right then and there. Skipping out on an SDC-sponsored event like this. Eloping with her girlfriend to who-knows-where, in dresses fit for an outing with the elite's elite. Most of all, having to wear a blindfold of all damned things…
But in the end, as they left Ruby's apartment, Weiss decided she didn't care.
She was happy.
Ͼ
Weiss Schnee, heiress apparent of the Schnee Dust Company, had never been a particularly vulnerable person. At least, not since she became an adult and finally left the manor of her father. Once she was out from under his shadow—in the physical sense—the little bit of vulnerability there had been in her life finally left her.
So she thought.
Hardly an entire year ago now, she had begun attendance at the MTU. Had moved to the city of Constance and once more picked up a rather taboo habit developed in her first year of college. Had met Ruby Rose and embroiled herself in life-changing, upending events that culminated in this.
There she sat, on the lightly bouncing, gently swaying train. She could feel Ruby's heat beside her, flesh pressing close and nigh-uninhibited against her left arm. What little resistance their dresses did offer was pitiable at best, so thin were the fabrics. But even that human heat and contact was not enough; the heiress was presently a nervous wreck.
She could see absolutely nothing. All that was left to her was sound, touch, and scent.
She smelled the soft lilac and strawberry of Ruby's perfume. She felt the radiant heat and softness of Ruby against her arm. She heard the audible drum of both their hearts, though her own was the louder by far to her burning ears.
But there was no sight. Not even the faintest pinprick of light made it through the blackness of the fabric blindfold. It covered her eyes from cheekbones to mid-brow, blocking out every last mote of vision, and for the first time in a very long while…
Weiss felt vulnerable. It set her heart racing so mad, she was sure it would still at any moment. It lit her blood aflame and swelled her lungs with tingling, ragged breath. It put her mind to chasing a myriad of thoughts, all of which concerned how the situation could possibly end—from most heinously scandalous to most innocently mundane.
"We're almost there," said Ruby, and Weiss's flesh prickled and crawled. "I hope you'll be impressed."
The heiress, too, hoped she would be.
A goodly time passed in this manner. Weiss even began to fear she might visibly perspire, so hot was her flesh growing. But, as all things, the tribulation eventually ended. She had no idea how long the train ride had lasted but was duly grateful when, at last, Ruby spoke up again. Her voice was more than a bit calming.
"Here, stand up," said the vixen, and Weiss could feel her arm being pulled lightly. She stood with the pull and heard Ruby saying, "I'll guide you, just try to relax, ok? It's not too far from the station."
She shook a bit, say true, but heeded her girlfriend all the same. Step by step they went, down a flight of stairs and onto concrete. Hand in hand they strolled along, slowly, Ruby guiding the blinded heiress with a careful pace. Weiss could hear the sound of a few passing cars but not much else. Wherever they were it was surely all but deserted. This she felt sure of given that—even being the city of Constance—the soft howl of the wind could be heard cutting its way between the surrounding buildings.
Then, she heard the faint babble of a water fixture. Perhaps a fountain? Or a small waterfall? And she began to smell the scent of palms and sand, an earthy flavor that hung low to the ground below and tasted of the desert. Desert…
'Wait,' thought the heiress. 'Did she really?!'
But she tried to push the budding realization from her mind, not wanting to spoil the surprise. It did tax her heart a bit further, but Weiss managed mostly to ignore it.
On they went, traversing now onto softer ground. Carpeted by the feel of it. Judging also by the change in the acoustics, she assumed they had gone inside somewhere. Unlike before, however, the place (she assumed they were) did not smell quite like it should. There was a faint hint of dried paint and sawdust hanging about. Not much, but enough to notice.
Still she followed, pulled lightly along by Ruby, for perhaps another twelve paces. It was then, at last, that they stopped and Ruby again spoke.
"Ok," said she. "You can take off the blindfold."
Weiss heard Ruby prance away a few steps, felt her heat leave her side. With hands shaking miserably, she reached for the knot at the back of her head. Tried to undo the fabric blind. It took her a few confounding attempts before her fingers managed to work the binding loose. As it peeled from her face and sight came slowly back, the heiress had to muster every bit of herself not to gasp in shock.
It was better than she could have possibly imagined.
α
Only a moment there was, but it was all she needed.
"Ok," Ruby said, trying not to let her voice quaver. "You can take the blindfold off."
She immediately took a few, long steps away. Almost pranced like a deer in all honesty. To a nearby table, where a most familiar object lay. Ruby took it up in her shaking grip and turned it over, placing it gently against her face the next moment and securing the straps in place. She cast a glance over her shoulder. Weiss was still undoing the blindfold knot (aye, she had tied it well) and so, the raven-headed vixen bounded back to her girlfriend.
Until she stood just before her, watching her close and intently as the blindfold was taken from its perch.
Weiss nearly began to cry.
Ђ
The heiress looked around. And tried miserably—unsuccessfully—to hold back some few, shocked tears.
It was the Siren's Call alright, much as she had guessed. Those were indeed the palm trees of the place she had smelled before entering. That was definitely the trademark sandy front which flavored the air outside akin to a desert. Yet, it also was not the Siren's Call she remembered. Many of the decorations had been removed, and many more were so changed as to be almost unrecognizable.
Tables and chairs and even the booths had been replaced with newer, nicer versions in the recent season's style. The carpet had been fully removed and replaced with a brand-new model, now burgundy and with nearly the give-to-step of foam. The stage, when she looked to it, had seen its three centerpiece poles re-chromed and like as not shined. They were now almost a mirror polish. The surface of the stage, too, had been redone entirely with both fresh boards and a new coat of stark-white paint. When she looked over at the bar, Weiss saw it was now an entirely different design that stretched in a U-shape. Looked better than the straight-line by far, and could certainly hold many more customers at once.
The logistics, however, registered not one whit. For when she turned back toward Ruby, resting her icy-blues on the raven-headed vixen, her jaw all but hit the floor and her mind released every bit of thought.
There she stood, that wondrous Rose, sporting the mask Weiss remembered so vividly. And now that she saw the mask paired with it, she recognized the dress too. It was the same she had first seen her in. Only black this time rather than teal.
"I hope you won't mind, Miss Schnee," said Ruby, feeling her flesh try its best to ignite, "but Chrysanthemum won't be performing tonight. I, however, would be more than happy to dance with you…"
The heiress tried to say something. All that came out was a weak, wheezing stutter. Ruby giggled at that and bowed, then held out her hand.
"Would that be alright, Miss Schnee?"
Weiss only nodded this time, emphatically and with much gusto, before reaching out to accept that offered hand. It was so very warm in hers, shaking awfully but gripping her own with a firm resolve. The resolve of a lover true, one might say, to offer succor and comfort in a time of need. As was the present time for the heiress, though in truth…
She forgot why at that very moment.
Λ
For four long hours, they caroused and danced in the empty Siren's Call. Empty, that is, save for the one man in the back office, snoring away the wee hours with an old book draped over his nose.
Ruby took the lead for the first few numbers, surprising Weiss with her unexpectedly vast knowledge of different dances. The first they went about in silence hearing only the nervous breathing and racing hearts of one another. After that, an orchestral number (soft initially, louder quickly thereafter) began to drone from above. Coming from the new speakers it sounded wonderful beyond words. Matched the gradually increasing pace of their waltz.
Maybe half an hour passed before the heiress took the lead, turning their none-too-energetic waltz into a much more frantic tango. They twirled and swirled about each other, feet stepping and prancing to the rising tempo of the orchestra, faces beaming elation and eyes glowing in the dim lighting. Their dresses wove a whirlpool of fabric grace as they turned about.
Ruby could hardly contain herself. Weiss saw no reason to try and gave in to her enjoyment.
So it went for the first hour. When that passed, they broke away—the orchestral numbers continuing—for a rest at the new bar.
"I paid ahead, so just tell me what you'd like," said Ruby with a wide, gleaming grin.
"How about a dry gin then?" answered the heiress.
This Ruby poured, and for herself she made a quick boilermaker. They shared no talk, only downed their drinks and sighed at the fire it traced to their bellies. Then, with shared grins, they went right back to it. Out onto the floor, hand-in-hand and other-on-hip. Twirling and swirling, swaying and playing to the orchestral bolero that now all but blared from the new speakers.
Eventually, around the half-way of the third hour, their revelry brought them onto the newly-installed patio at the northern end. A swathe of moonlight cut the blackened marble with silver beneath their feet, and an infinite spackling of stars twinkled to the tune of their hearts. It was colder now and rain had begun to drizzle, but neither paid this any mind. This was an evening to enjoy to its fullest. Both felt so, yes and more, and did duly act so.
Yet, just as all things, even this time of great companionship ended. The orchestral track Ruby picked for the occasion eventually drew to a rousing crescendo somewhere around the start of the fourth hour. Given for energy and spent from their revelry, the Roses swelled their last tango to its zenith and parted.
On the far end of the open-air patio they stood, turned toward one another, staring each other down with the wild eyes of those who have just experienced the time of their lives thus far. Rain poured openly on them, biting cold and growing harsher with each passing minute. They were soaked through and through by then; their dresses clung even tighter to them and their hair, undone from the stylings, lay in dripping dishevelment. Ruby sniffled. Weiss turned her head and sneezed lightly.
"My god, Ruby," the heiress stuttered between gasps of breath. "That was good. Like… really good."
"I'm glad you liked the surprise," answered Ruby, between her own gasps for air. "Four hours, though? And I thought I had good stamina…"
Weiss laughed, said, "You say that as if we were—"
The heiress stopped herself before finishing, clapping one hand over her mouth and blushing blood-red from head to toe. Her raven-headed love only laughed at this, mirthful and earnestly tickled. Weiss looked away, bashful and quite aware of herself. Painfully aware of herself…
"You're a great dancer, Weiss," said Ruby, stifling more laughter and hoping to change the subject.
"Thanks," answered the heiress, still looking away.
"Well, was this better than the high-society you're used to?"
At that, Weiss looked up at Ruby. Their eyes met and locked. The heiress began to cross the patio, her heels tapping a gentle melody that went unheard to either as she closed the distance. Until she stood no more than a foot from her love. Close enough to reach out, which she did. Close enough to embrace, which she did also. And once embraced…
Close enough to kiss vivaciously, and lo, how she did indeed.