Yang took a deep breath, watching from the wings as people milled about, taking seats at one of the large tables set up for the occasion. They were set up by class, mostly, with commoners towards the back of the hall, knights and soldiers towards the middle, nobles at the front, and the royal family on a raised dais overlooking all. She didn't know much about court protocol- not for any kingdom, and certainly not Atlas- but she found it a bit odd that Winter sat with the soldiers and knights while Weiss sat to the Queen's left, the spot of honor to the right of the King reserved for Whitley, who for all the world seemed rather bored with the festivities. Only those closest to the castle- or already here on other business- attended, meaning more commoners and soldiers than nobles, which worked out in their favor.
At least, she hoped so, anyway.
Orange gold light filtered in through the glass windows above, the last bit of the day's light dying as night took hold. Timing would be important; already, she could see Winter fidgeting, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt, shifting the ceremonial armor and grimacing at the restriction.
"Do you honestly think this will work?" Blake stepped up beside her, clad in all black and prepared to dart in if something went wrong, her primary concern being Weiss' safety.
"I hope it will; does that count?" Yang offered a little grin. "But, yeah. I mean, it comes down to my storytelling abilities, really." She winked. "Luckily for all of us, I'm pretty good at it."
Amber eyes watched her for a moment before flicking up to the dying light. "I hope so." She shifted. "But worst case scenario?"
"You get Weiss somewhere safe, I cover Winter's retreat, and we hope that bastard catches a knife in his throat during the chaos."
"Now that is a plan." A chuckle left the Faunus' lips. "But I can see why you wouldn't bring it up around them."
"Schnees are a strange bunch." She sighed. "It's about that time."
"Good luck." Blake nodded, turning to melt into the shadows while Yang strode forward, smiling and waving to the faces she recognized from her time in the cold kingdom of he north, mentally going over the legends and stories in her head.
She had one shot to make people believe her and the sort of skills to pull it off, if she could hit the sweet spots at the beginning.
"Good evening, people of Atlas!" Her voice boomed out, bringing silence to the feasting hall as all eyes turned towards her, mounds of food piled high on the tables. "I am Yang Xiao Long, the Huntress of Vale, the premier hunter of terrible beasts. I've faced off against hydras, elementals, sphinxes, demon bulls, and undead monsters." She swept a gaze across the hall. "I was asked to come and find the creature prowling the royal forest, slay it so that the people of this kingdom might be safe." She lifted her arms up. "I'm here to tell you now! The people of Atlas have to fear the beast no more!"
Cheers went up, all but a few leveling suspicious looks her way, and she quickly continued before someone could interject.
"When it comes to otherworldly beasts, the cause is often otherworldly, too. And you have not been visited by a demon boar or a direwolf, no- Atlas has been visited by an emissary of ancient, revered Maiden Skaði." She paused. "A werewolf."
Yang's eyes darted up to the windows, where the light began to fade, as murmurs flew around the hall- excited whispers. Elsewhere in Remnant, werewolves were seen as scourges, but the King- and everyone else, even Weiss' depiction- had carefully not applied that moniker, not wanting to invoke those old legends. Or, at least, not while Winter had done nothing found in those old legends.
"Since the First Kings, Skaði has sent this, her most trustworthy messenger, to possess the faithful and turn their might against the wicked, to keep the royal bloodline pure of corruption." The last bit of sunshine disappeared and Winter seemed to be in physical pain, trying to stave off her transformation. "I have looked upon the face of Skaði's messenger and come away uninjured. I promise you this: the Maiden's fury is reserved for only a few. Do not be alarmed." She lifted a hand, towards the now darkening windows. "The sun has set on Atlas, and the lives of the wicked. When it rises, the kingdom will be born anew, free of corruption and cleansed by Skaði's ancient emissary!"
Memorizing the entire speech from the first account of Atlas' deity releasing werewolves and hellhounds upon the kingdom's court had taken the better part of the afternoon, but as commoners, soldiers, and knights exchanged looks of mixed excitement and trepidation, Yang knew she'd tapped into the part of every Atlesian that held those old tales in high regard, even if they didn't offer prayers as often as they should. The King started to stand, likely ready to shout her down or try to reframe the age old legend- funny, that, seeing as it would be the exact same one he had tried taking advantage of- but Winter had reached the limits of her restraint, pushing back violently from the table and sending her chair flying.
"From the blood of the First Kings will arise the beast, seeking the blood of those who betray the Old Ways." Yang intoned, calling upon some of her draconic heritage to lend a bit of deeper tenor to her voice as cracks and pops echoed through the hall. "That reckoning is at hand."
Soldiers and knights cleared away from Winter as her form shifted, fabric ripping as she grew larger, white fur sprouting while her jaws opened wide, teeth enlarging, becoming fangs- the transformation looked much smoother than just that morning, the little exercises with tapping into her dormant wolf seeming to do wonders.
Yang admired the woman's iron will, her determination- to not only accept this part of her but to master it. She fleetingly entertained the idea that maybe, just maybe, Winter would be willing to journey to Vale and meet the Elders. The whole lot would get a kick out of meeting her.
Finally, the werewolf stood, rearing back on her hindlegs before dropping down to all fours and shuddering, shaking for a moment before she lifted her nose to the ceiling and let out a deafening howl. Everyone ducked on instinct, giving the werewolf a wide berth as bright gold eyes swept over the hall before settling on the dais.
Of the four, the reactions were varied and unique. Weiss remained poised and calm, looking for all the world like she'd expected this exact event to unfold and facing it head on with nothing short of fearlessness; combined with her efforts to lessen the burden of her father's pursuits on the people, everyone seemed to expect such from her, for a clean conscience had nothing to fear in the face of a Maiden's judgment. The Queen… looked absolutely bored, deep in her cups already, and barely paying the creature any mind as she refilled her goblet. Yang wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even realize that the werewolf stalking towards the table was her eldest daughter. Whitley… was scared shitless. Face pale as blood drained away, he began to shake in his chair with every scrape of claws against the stone floor. She wouldn't be surprised if he bolted before Winter reached the dais.
But the King… rage burned bright in his eyes as he watched the werewolf's approach, jaw clenched tight; to see his own plan turned back around on him, to see it done so publicly and with the people of the kingdom complicit in the plot… she wouldn't be surprised if he gave himself a heart attack before Winter reached him.
Yang, however, concerned herself with watching the others in the hall- the nobles and soldiers, the knights and anyone else who might have a silver blade, watching for who else might've had a hand in the botched poisoning. None betrayed guilt but more than a few looking apprehensive as Winter past them, relief showing plain when the beast padded away, single-mindedly pursuing her goal.
Just before Winter set a paw on the dais, Whitley bolted away, apparently not wanting to find out just how much of the beast was his sister and how much was the wolf. With his son fled, the King got to his feet and drew his sword, backing away from the table.
"Don't bother with mortal weapons!" Yang called out strolling around the tables nonchalantly. With a flourish, she drew her silver dagger, smeared with fresh blood. "See this? A silver dagger, the bane of werewolves not imbued with divine purpose. This blade has bitten the skin of the creature you see before you, drank of her blood, yet she remains strong." Turning to direct her gaze at the King, a smirk lifted her lips. "You cannot strike down a messenger. Not with steel or silver."
Winter stopped, turning her head towards the Queen, who remained seated and hardly concerned with the events around her. However, when the werewolf's eyes fell upon her, their gazes met before the woman reached up, lifting the crown from around her temples with one hand and setting it before her. She then lifted her glass in a mock toast, as if surrendering the field before the battle had truly begun. That seemed to satisfy Winter as she sniffed once at the crown and then turned away, ears laid back and a slight snarl coming to her lips. Whatever quarrels the woman might have with her mother, she didn't desire to make public spectacle of it, and the concession of her title proved enough for the people to accept, though whispers abounded at what had kept the now former Queen from her duties.
And then Winter's attention fell on her father, the King, still holding his sword up, defiant at the last. Yang held her breath, fighting to remain just beyond the dais, wanting to help but knowing she couldn't. That didn't make it any easier to stand there, watching the werewolf's hackles rise, teeth gnashing as her anger rose, her eyes flashing dangerously; the wolf took charge now, the outrage of a myriad of proud werewolves condensed into this new bloodline.
And in that moment, the whole hall saw fear flash in the King's eyes.
The King hesitated a moment, trying to shuffle his feet towards an exit, but Winter pivoted on her hindlegs, blocking his path. Left no other option, he steeled his nerves, and lunged forward, plunging his blade deep into the werewolf's shoulder. Winter didn't wince, didn't whine, just twisted her torso, sending him flying as his grip on the blade wasn't strong enough to hold onto it. He hit the ground with a solid thump, rolling from the light toss, the metal of his armor shrieking as it scoured the stone; for as simple a motion as Winter made it look, the King might as well have been a rag doll.
Yang had to hand it to the man. His stubbornness would be admirable, if it weren't for the fact he had nearly killed half his family.
Unsteadily, he managed to push himself up in time to see what had caught everyone else's attention. The sword shivered, being slowly pushed out of the werewolf's body with every breath until it dropped to the floor, clanging uselessly to the ground. The sound echoed in the quiet hall as not a drop of blood fell or stained pristine white fur as Winter lowered her head and snarled.
"Told ya," Yang said with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can't stop Skaði's judgment. You earned this."
The King's went wide as he got to his feet, drawing himself to his full height. "Winter, you will stop this, right now." The werewolf padded closer, snarling even louder. "I am your father."
Golden eyes burned, jaws opening to put her fangs on full display.
"Not right now." Yang couldn't keep the smugness from her tone, deeply satisfied that the man would now face the repercussions of his actions, but they'd made a deal- her, Winter, and Weiss. For all the pain he'd caused them, the man was their blood relative, even if he didn't act like it when it didn't suit him. They were willing to settle for a simple banishment from the kingdom- not forgiveness, not an invite to remain, but they would rather not see him dead- if he admitted to his crimes. She wasn't holding her breath, though. "Unless, of course, you're saying you created the werewolf, and not Skaði."
The King looked at her then, utter contempt written all over his face. A vein bulged from his temple, pride keeping his lips sealed, for he was the sort of man who would rather die than admit fault or, worse, be remembered as the man who'd poisoned his own daughter in a bid to keep her from the throne- had tried poisoning his wife to keep all of them silent.
When his gaze moved back towards the werewolf, he sneered. "You haven't the constitution, mongrel. Not you nor the woman whose skin you wore; neither of you are fit for decisive action."
The mutters returned and Yang's smirk grew into a full smile, for the people had a different idea about what their King's 'decisiveness' had wrought than he did, and the soldiers seemed to share the sentiment, coins changing hands as bets were placed. The knights had a little more decorum but Yang could see the glint of a sword or dagger being hidden from view; they were sworn to protect and serve… but they didn't seem too keen on those vows just then.
Only the nobles seemed concerned, exchanging glances, eyes darting for the doors, a few looking far more nervous than before. They didn't seem to think the golden eyed werewolf could be capable of causing them harm but with those eyes filling with bloodlust? It made them… wonder and worry.
Good, Yang thought, catching the King staring at her. They should be worried, should feel as if a failure to do their duties would come back on them in the worst way. Maybe it'll keep them honest in the future.
"If it weren't for that accursed Huntress, you'd be lost in the forest," he said, backing away from Winter until he hit the wall- finally cornered. "Scrounging for your next meal like a mindless animal."
The werewolf paused then, looking over at her, and a flash of blue appeared in those eyes, ears and tail lifting- almost in recognition.
"I should've had her throat slit the first night she arrived."
Snarling, the beast leapt forward, consumed by fury. Her jaws closed around one arm, a quick yank of her head popping it out of place and drawing a cry of pain from the man too proud to admit defeat, to back down. Winter tossed him from one end of the hall to the other, teeth and claws rending metal, flesh, and cloth with equal ease, and right then it certainly felt like the woman had completely given herself over to primal rage, infuriated beyond words, beyond rational thought. In all likelihood, the wolf had allowed her to retreat to deep within, sheltering her from the sights and sounds of a conniving man too weak to admit his faults facing his end, and even Weiss couldn't bear to look, though her eyes remained dry. He'd earned this fate… yet still his children would pity him.
He truly didn't deserve them.
When the King's lifeless body finally fell to the ground, the werewolf let out a long howl, licking her chops before turning those dangerously flashing eyes towards the rest of the hall. A touch of bloodlust, a combination of the fear hanging heavy in the room and the beast being cornered, surrounded- it would only be a matter of time before she lashed out, made an escape.
But at the first loping step towards the exit on the far side of the hall, amid gasps and cries of alarm, Weiss darted into her path, arms out wide.
"Your quarrel is not with them," she said, staring down the creature easily six times her size. "I am the one to be judged. Take my soul, weigh its worth, spill my blood, but leave my people unharmed."
Yang's brows rose, surprised at the earnest conviction she heard in the Princess' voice. For a moment, she forgot that Weiss had the whole day to prepare what she'd say as she offered herself up to divine scrutiny, but still admired her courage to do so, especially when not nearly as familiar with her sister's other form.
For a moment, it looked as though the wolf would not relent, one massive paw rising and preparing to swat Weiss away.
She didn't budge, chin tilted up defiantly, and in the shadows behind her, Blake stepped out, worry furrowing her brows- absolutely tense.
The attack never came, though.
Winter's eyes closed, paw lowering to the ground, fur smoothing and ears flicking forward. When she opened them, they were blue again, alight with a deep sort of peace.
Feigning confusion, the Princess turned a questioning gaze her way, and she smiled.
"You have been judged worthy, Your Majesty," Yang said, bowing her head in respect. "Skaði's messenger bends to your will." On that cue, Winter lowered her haunches to the ground, coming to heel before her sister. "You are the rightful heir to the throne."
Hesitantly, Weiss raised her hand, gasping as the werewolf nosed her gently before she took a step forward, running her hands through pure white fur, nevermind the flecks of blood. Cheers rose from many throats, calls for toasts to be made for the new Queen of Atlas, but Weiss silenced them.
"There is one left to be judged!" She told them, swallowing down either nerves or excitement- perhaps both. "Blake!" Almost instantly, the Faunus dropped from above, landing in a crouch, on bent knee and with a lowered head.
"Shall I retrieve His Highness, Your Majesty?"
"No." Weiss smiled, coaxing her to her feet.
Slowly approaching the dais, Yang tried to keep the frown from her lips; she didn't know what the new Queen of Atlas was up to, but they were pushing their luck that things had gone this well.
"Great messenger, please. Look into the soul of my closest confidant, the one who had guided my hand when I've felt weak and confused, my staunchest supporter." The woman eyes shone brightly with hope, love, and unshed tears, and the hunter couldn't begrudge her this, especially with the way feline ears strained forward. "Tell me, oh ancient fury, if she's fit to carry the burden of noble blood."
Mutters flew across the hall, a mixed bag favoring the Faunus as servants and soldiers watched with rapt attention. Although kept from nobility and knighthood, there wasn't a soldier in Atlas' army that didn't have a Faunus to thank for navigating during the night or hearing an enemy approach; the war would've been lost long ago if the King hadn't relented and allowed Faunus to join the ranks. Since then, the opinions of commoners and soldiers improved, and the knights and nobles seemed pretty evenly split. Of course, these people mainly came from the lands just beyond the castle, where Weiss had the most influence. The change would take time but patience was a virtue of the Schnees- if only out of sheer stubbornness.
Winter, for her part, perked her ears up, then lowered her head, sniffing at the Faunus before her.
Yang had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as the werewolf's tail began sweeping across the stone, wagging- Blake may as well be part of the family, because it seemed the wolf part of her had already deemed the Faunus part of her pack.
Then she pulled her head back and nodded.
"Very well. Blake?" Weiss turned towards her companion- her accomplice and friend, a smile on her lips. "You have done more for me than I can say. You've shown me how to be a better person and- and what love truly feels like." She lowered herself to one knee, holding both of Blake's hands in hers. "I can think of no one better to stand beside me and help lead Atlas to a brighter future. And I can think of no one else I'd want to wake up beside in the morning." She paused, unsure if the tears beginning to stream down Blake's face were ones of joy or sorrow but continuing anyway. "You are already the light in my soul. I believe you can be the light that guides us all. Blake, will you be my Queen? Will you marry me?"
Swiping at her face, the Faunus mustered her composure for a brief moment.
"Yes," she replied, a watery laugh bubbling up in her throat. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."
She fell to her knees and threw her arms around Weiss' neck, sobbing and laughing and reaffirming her answer until the woman caught her lips with her own.
The hall burst into a cheer- not as loud as when Weiss was proclaimed Queen, but there all the same- and Winter lifted her muzzle in a long howl, Yang lifting her fingers to her mouth and whistling, clapping in between.
Okay, so, apparently, she'd overestimated Schnee patience, but no matter. It seemed like everything would-
The slam of a goblet against the wall startled people into silence, backing away from the nobleman standing now atop a table, glaring at the dais with utmost contempt, the sigil painted across his breastplate seeming alive with the way his chest heaved in his rage. Yang's expression soured and she cursed herself for relaxing too soon.
"Lord Winchester," the Queen called out, rising to her feet with her fiancé standing close behind her. Blue eyes darted to the wall, sticky sweet honey mead wine dribbling down the stone. "You're cleaning that up."
"I'll do no such thing." Winchester boomed out, somehow remaining firm as Winter began to growl.
Yang pushed her way through the crowd towards the dais, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Not because she thought the brat deserved to continue but because the last thing they needed would be for it to appear like Weiss might not have absolute control of the situation.
"Usurping the throne by divine right is one thing but I'll not bend the knee to an animal."
Blake's expression darkened but Weiss held up a hand, gaze sharp. "Tell me, Lord Winchester. How are your fields?"
He blinked, apparently caught off guard. "They're… fine?"
"Are you certain of that?" Her eyes shifted to further down the hall. "Flynt Coal! If you're here, step forward now."
A bit of murmuring and shuffling preceded a man stepping forward, his coat patched in a few places but still rather nice, chin tilted up as he answered the call. "Here, Your Majesty."
"How are the fields in Lord Winchester's lands?"
"Your Majesty, they are recovering." He bowed his head. "The extra hands Your Majesty sent assisted in repairing the destroyed structures caused by the dam break, but the water did a fair amount of damage before it froze. We'll have to reassess after the first thaw."
"That is exactly the sort of detail I look for when I ask my stewards how their lands are faring." Weiss' gaze returned to Winchester, a scowl coming to her brows. "So, to recap, you dare decry your future Queen when you yourself act more like a lazy mutt huddled by a fire than a man with a mission and charge?"
"I- Your Majesty, such trivial concerns-"
"The concerns of my people are not trivial, and I've spent weeks on end hearing their troubles, wondering why some of you hold your posts when you seemingly have no interest in attending the duties that come with them," the Queen said, drawing the slim rapier from her hip. "Flynn Coal! Come here. Kneel before your Queens."
The man hurried forward, falling to a knee before her, head bowed in respect. Lightly, Weiss tapped the flat of her blade again his shoulders, letting it linger on his left.
At the same time, Yang reached the dais and buried a hand in white fur to soothe the wolf, though Winter hadn't taken her eyes from Lord Winchester yet.
"Do you, Flynt Coal, swear to uphold the laws of Atlas, to look after the people of your lands with care and compassion, to be their sword and their shield, and to speak up in their defense to whoever might cause them harm?" The emphasis rang clear: she was not above reproach, and she now charged him with keeping her in line as well.
He looked up at her, meeting her gaze to ensure they understood each other perfectly. "I swear."
The wolf stopped growling as Weiss nodded. "Rise, Lord Coal, as the steward of the Northeast Hold."
"Those are my lands," Lord Winchester said, heat to his voice as he clenched his hands into fists.
"Not. Any. More." Weiss replaced her rapier at her hip and offered a hand to the man before her, welcoming her newest noble with a smile before returning a severe look to Winchester. "I'll not be a tyrant; I'll not force you to do anything. You wish to not obey the rule of Atlas? Then we don't need you here. I hereby revoke your lordship, your citizenship, and give you two weeks to gather your belongings and leave this country." She looked at Lord Coal, then Blake, then turned the other way to see Winter and Yang. A smile came to her lips then. "Atlas must change and grow. We must walk, together, into a brighter future- one of peace and equality. If that's not a journey you wish to partake in, I'll make it an easy choice for you. Leave, Cardin. Your kind- the narrow minded, the self centered, the selfish- are no longer welcomed in Atlas."
"Let it never be said your sister does things by half measures," Yang said, a chuckle following as Winter nuzzled against her side. Everyone save for the nobility raised their voices in cheers, a new hope sparked in the people's hearts.
The prospect of an end to the constant conflicts, a period of resting and rebuilding their kingdom- they wanted it more than anything and now here it sat, in their hands.
Lord Winchester- or, rather, Cardin's face turned bright red as fury engulfed him. He took a few steps forward, reaching for his belt even as royal guards started towards him, ready to remove him from the hall. But he had no weapon on his hip, nothing but a pouch with a sigil Yang recognized, from somewhere, Vacuo maybe?
Eyes flashing red, she called forth her superior draconic sight to study it as he pulled the pouch open, and that's when it clicked: the symbol of a brotherhood stitched into the pouch.
A brotherhood of warlocks.