Finale
Roses in Spring
Ђ
Ruby looked about the restaurant. It was simply enormous. How could something so huge even fit in the building? She didn't know—couldn't fathom—so instead stared in rapt amazement.
Waiters and waitresses skittered to and fro, balancing assortments of dishes and drinks like acrobats or jugglers at a circus. They moved with swift grace, taking orders and bussing tables. They spoke to guests like old friends, professional in a manner that defied logic—as though they were friends, not servants. The tables were appointed so lavish as to be nearly appalling. Virginal-white tablecloths one would be afraid to eat over, flower arrangements one would fear disturbed but by a simple breath. Fine and delicate dinnerware more closely resembling art than plates or glasses.
Weiss sat across from Ruby, looking at her friend with slight amusement. She'd known the woman was not used to the finer things in life, but it was still funny to see firsthand. And this wasn't like seeing Ruby's reaction to her room, on that night that felt so long ago, but instead like watching a child who has just tasted some wondrous new flavor. A depth of excitement, hope and naiveté that was simultaneously refreshing and endearing—and a tad saddening, for some reason.
Weiss looked to her glass, ignoring the fact that Ruby still had not answered her question. Maybe it was unusual for her friend to act so, but the heiress found it to be neither here nor there. What was both here and there was that the glass of wine—her second glass of the evening—was half empty. Had she truly indulged so deeply on this outing? Thinking of the occasion, Weiss decided that, even if so, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Cut loose once in a while, or become so tightly wound as fit to burst. Ruby was rubbing off on her, it seemed.
"I can't believe you, Ruby." Weiss said, looking back to her friend.
Ruby still looked utterly lost, despite having been in the restaurant for well over half an hour by then. It was as though no amount of looking would satiate her. The place was so new; how could she take it all in?
Ruby's eyes made their way back to Weiss shortly thereafter, and she looked sleepy. Or at least dazed, perhaps.
"I've never seen a place so… big." Ruby said.
"So you've told me, and for the fifth time now." Weiss said, then laughed. Not a long laugh, nor a hard laugh, but one full of mirth and life.
"I have?" Ruby sounded shocked in earnest, "Well… even if I have, I still mean it. This place is amazing!"
Weiss laughed again—another tiny, mirthful chuckle—and said, "Just you wait until the food gets here."
The heiress decided to drop her unanswered question, at least for now. It was not the time for unsavory topics or lines of thought. No, it was time to celebrate a job well-done.
"I have to say, though, I really am impressed with you." Weiss said.
"Oh?" Ruby said, sounding a tad impish.
Weiss hummed an affirmation. She picked up her glass, took another sip of the wine and sighed.
"Getting perfect marks on the End of Year Finals is no simple endeavor, as I'm sure you can attest." Weiss said, "That being so, you did it with only two weeks to prepare. Once more I'll say: I'm impressed."
But she was lying, even if only a little. For while Weiss indeed was impressed, she was also happy and maybe even a tad proud. She would not say these things, of course—only hope that they were understood.
"I couldn't have done it without you, Weiss." Ruby said.
"Oh no, you're not passing that onto me." Weiss said, and offered a smirk, "You did the studying, and you took the tests—"
"But you helped me so much with both of those!" Ruby interrupted, raising her voice a tad louder than she should've. For a moment after, she was embarrassed by this little outburst. When Weiss smiled, calm and demure, it went away.
"I helped you study, I won't deny that. But you're the one who wanted it so badly that you put all those hours—all those sleepless, caffeine-stricken nights—into retaining and understanding it. Pat yourself on the back, for crying out loud!"
Ruby smiled, blushing a tad. She took hold of her own glass of wine and raised it, holding it out toward the heiress.
"Then how 'bout a toast?" Ruby said, "To both of us. For studying so hard, for keeping our chins up and noses to the grinding-wheel."
Weiss looked at her for a moment in a bit of shock, head tilted and eyes wide with one eyebrow raised. She then picked up her glass.
"A toast it is." Weiss said, extending the glass, "To a job well-done and a reward well-earned."
Just before their glasses clinked, in a voice nearly too tiny to hear, Ruby said, "And good friends."
The clinking of their glasses almost drowned it out, but Weiss caught it. This stuttered her for a moment, but the heiress recovered and made as though nothing were amiss. They clinked glasses again and drank a small sip.
"You've helped me more than just those tests, Weiss." Ruby said after a moment of silence.
She looked up carefully, as though she felt she'd said an insult. Weiss only looked back, not stunned but not speaking either.
"You didn't have to take me all the way to Vacuo, and Patch, and you certainly didn't have to attend the funeral with me…"
Weiss looked away. Ruby watched her friend eye first the glass of wine in her hand, then the tablecloth beneath. She looked ashamed, somehow, but why?
"Weiss, you've been such a good friend—and not just for helping me study, or going out of your way like that! The fact that you went with me, instead of just paying the way, means a lot…"
Just before adding a bit more, Ruby recalled the event on the cliff. In a moment, her lips were ablaze and her chest tight. The skin all over her body began to flush and heat, and her entire face became the rosy hue of thorough embarrassment. Ruby looked away as well, anywhere but Weiss's direction.
"You're welcome." Weiss said—all but whispered—before either of them could truly consider crawling away to hide somewhere.
"Thank you." Ruby said, and left it at that.
Ђ
The main course came ten minutes after the awkward bit of conversation and recollection. Weiss ordered braised salmon with a shallot topping and a side of parboiled okra. Ruby, at the heiress's urging, ordered a simpler fare to match her less eclectic tastes. Filet mignon with a helping of ginger-sauce atop and a side of mashed potatoes. The waiter serving them brought the meals with the same grace and balance as Ruby had marveled over for most of their stay this evening. He sat the plates before them, wished them 'bon appetit' and went on his way.
Weiss dug in with all the reserved grace one might expect of her pedigree. Ruby did the same, in her own manner, and both enjoyed the food. Another ten minutes was spent on the eating, with only a scant bit of conversation. No, there was no such thing as an honest politician. Yes, that woman four tables down had picked a most gaudy color scheme. Maybe someone might one day walk upon the surface of Remnant's moon. Water if Dust wills it, and all that nonsense.
Then, about half-way through the meal, Ruby looked up at her friend. Feeling her gaze, Weiss looked up as well. The tiny bit of mashed potato stuck to Ruby's cheek elicited a brief giggle, stifled quickly with napkin in hand.
Oblivious, Ruby smiled and said, "You seek it out when your hunger's ripe. It sits on four legs, and smokes a pipe."
The chuckle died in her throat as Weiss stared at Ruby, bemused. Then, after a moment's thought followed by sudden realization, she understood what this was. And in that moment, in the confines of her recently thawed heart, the heiress stirred and recalled that she had missed this…
"A game at dinner, huh?" Weiss said before wiping her mouth, "Is it a wood stove?"
"Ding-ding!" Ruby said with squeaky joy, "Your turn, Weiss."
A smile fit to split her face adorned Ruby's lips. As Ruby went back to her meal, eagerly awaiting Weiss's retort, the heiress noted something. She assured herself it was nothing, but that smile didn't look quite right.
Weiss looked around for a moment. Caught off-guard, she had nothing ready to offer. When her eyes settled on a plate of deviled eggs being carried by a passing waitress, it came to her.
"A word I know, six letters it contains. Take away just one, and only twelve remains." Weiss said with a coy smirk.
She looked back to Ruby, whose cheeks bulged comically with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Ruby chewed twice, reached for her glass of water and swallowed with a large gulp. Weiss managed to stop the laugh that wanted out this time.
"Um…" Ruby hummed, thinking on the riddle.
She scratched her head and tilted her eyes to the gilded ceiling. As they crawled across the depiction of cherubs and seraphim, Weiss spotted a detail that had stuck out to her on more than one occasion this evening. A glinting sparkle the likes of which she'd either never noticed—which she would've claimed impossible—or had simply never been present before. It made Ruby's eyes look like something more silver than silver, bringing to mind a word from a fictive work Weiss had loved as a child.
True silver she recalled it to mean, and smiled as she watched her friend stare at the ceiling in quiet contemplation.
"Dozens?" Ruby said at last, and Weiss only smiled further.
"You speak true, sai Ruby." Weiss said with a forced drawl.
This time it was Ruby who chuckled. Again Weiss noted something that felt off. Nothing she could put her finger on, but enough to notice all the same.
"Your turn?" Weiss asked.
Ruby began to think again, and again the heiress watched. There was a thin smile on her lips as she did, along with a faint twitch at the corners of her mouth.
Off on the other side of the restaurant, there was a stage on which a small orchestra produced a pleasant tune. A soft, easy melody of wind- and string-instruments, conducted by none but meticulously harmonious all the same. At this moment, the apparent lead sawed away at a small wooden implement clutched tightly under her neck. Ruby looked their way, smiled again and looked back at Weiss.
"My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Alas, wherever I go I must bring my bow, if I'm to have anything to say."
Weiss had followed her friend's gaze and seen where it landed. The heiress felt a bit bad for it, but offered her answer no sooner than the words had left Ruby's lips.
"A violin." Weiss said with another coy smirk.
"Mmhm." Ruby hummed, going right back to her food.
No more riddles were shared that evening, but both were rejuvenated by the few that were. They finished their food and wine. The waiter came, took their orders for dessert and refilled their glasses. The commotion and bustle all around them—people speaking of this and that, forks and spoons clinking on fine china plates—continued unabated. All the while, Weiss began to notice more and more of this seeming off sensation coming from her friend. The woman looked hale and hearty, but it felt as though something were amiss.
With some slight reservation, she came back to her unanswered question and decided to ask it again.
"Do you have any plans for the break?" Weiss said, cautious and not a little anxious.
Ruby didn't answer at first, instead having a sip of her wine. Her nose wrinkled and her upper lip puckered a bit. It was a reaction Weiss found oddly endearing, due mostly to how much it spoke of Ruby's willingness to try and find common ground where there truly was none.
That, and it was damn cute.
"I guess I'll go see Dad again." Ruby said after setting her glass down. This time, Weiss was sure she heard the off quality loud and clear.
"I'm sure he'll be very excited and proud to see those test results." Weiss said.
The waiter came with their desserts. He set a small slice of peach tiramisu before Ruby and a bowl of crema catalana before the heiress. The man then bowed and wished them another 'bon appetit' before setting a small, black booklet on the table. Before he could leave, Weiss grabbed the booklet and handed it back to him with a tiny piece of plastic on top.
"Twenty percent gratuity, my good man." Weiss said, "And take your time bringing it back."
The waiter, surely not a man given to easy emotion, looked quite shocked at that. His face reddened a tad, but beyond that was the smile. Like his colleagues, the waiter had shown no emotion aside from extreme friendliness the entire time. Now, though, he smiled wide and hard.
"Thank you, Ma'am." He said, offering another bow.
Weiss merely waved her hand as if to brush him off. He left without looking up, much like an actor retreating off-stage. The heiress looked back to her friend.
"How's he holding up?" She asked.
Ruby poked at her tiramisu without much real interest, avoiding the heiress's gaze.
"It's only been a month…" She muttered.
"How are you holding up?"
With hardly a missed beat, and nary a thought given, Ruby smiled.
"I'm doing fine." Ruby said, and now Weiss saw the smile for what it was.
"Have you read the letter?"
"Not yet." Ruby said, smile faltering but remaining.
Not wanting to spoil the dinner entirely, Weiss took to her bowl of custard. The caramelized surface cracked to reveal the creamy goodness beneath with but the barest touch of her fork. She took a bite and had some wine, trying both to gather her thoughts and let the implications settle. When Weiss set the glass down and looked upon the shifting velvet within, it was somehow comforting to see it half full.
Then, much unlike her old self and much like her new self, Weiss said, "I'm here if you need someone to talk to."
She took another bite, and nearly choked when a loud clang came from Ruby's end of the table. Weiss looked up. Ruby's face was red and splotchy but, despite holding that same mysterious sparkle, her eyes remained dry.
"Thank you." Ruby said, and began to weep.
Ͼ
Weiss awoke to the blaring of her alarm clock. Morning sunshine poured in through her window. Its shade had been fully drawn up and left so all night, letting the sunlight in to tickle her flesh and sting at her closed eyes. She opened them and rolled over, looking around blearily. The room was still quite a mess, but this somehow did not bother her is it once would have.
The coffee table was indistinguishable due to the ridiculous pile of paper atop it. Buried somewhere in there was her two favorite coffee cups. The couch's cushions were disheveled and one had even managed to fall to the floor, there to be forgotten. The floor itself was not much better, books scattered here and there all across it. Over on her desk, which was also covered in paper and scraps of paper, Ruby's radio—which the lovable oaf had forgotten to take back with her—continued to play a soft country tune.
Weiss sat up and stretched while a man sang in a pleasing voice of how beer was good and people were crazy. The heiress thought about this for a moment, and decided at least half of that was true. Perhaps she'd never develop a taste for hops and barley, but she could easily attest that people were indeed crazy.
She looked at her clock, which read o-nine-hundred hours. Seems she had hit the snooze button once or twice, but this mattered little.
With an achiness that was both foreign and comforting, Weiss departed her bed and sauntered to the kitchenette. She flipped the coffee-maker's switch, setting it to brew her morning poison, then placed one of the exhumed coffee cups beside it. A look across the kitchen counter revealed only two bananas and half a bag of bagels, and she knew the fridge would be empty. Weiss shrugged, turned and headed for her bathroom.
Already in the nude and entirely careless of her newest habit, the heiress stepped into the shower and spun the knob. Cold water rushed from the overhanging spout. It was jarring yet refreshing on her flesh, which for some reason was flushed and awfully hot. She took her shower—taking so little time as to not even experience the warm water—and exited again, dripping the whole way to her wardrobe with unused towel in hand.
Weiss patted herself dry in front of the mighty oaken fixture, ignoring her hair altogether. She then opened it and pulled out an outfit, sparing no real thought for whether or not it matched. It did, but this was almost entirely due to dumb luck. Once she'd pulled on her undergarments and stepped into her pants, a chime resounded from her nightstand. She shut the wardrobe, tossed her shirt and bra onto the bed and picked up her scroll.
Looking at the name displayed, Weiss smiled and answered.
α
Ruby's eyes, bloodshot and burning, peeled open at the first light of day. The sun lay just over the horizon, barely topping the hills far off to the east and casting its first thin tendrils of light into the University City. Her apartment, which sat on the far western side behind a number of taller buildings, only saw some few stray strands of this light. Her room, on the second of seventeen floors, received only the reflected glow of these.
But it was enough to hurt her eyes, which were just as tired and exhausted from the night's tears as when sleep had finally taken her only some five hours earlier.
Ruby tried to sit up and her abs protested this immediately. A sharp pain fired through her and set her to coughing. This lasted for a full minute before Ruby recovered, forced herself to sit up and looked around.
The small studio apartment was a disheveled wreck. Clothes lay strewn about, ignored in forgotten piles and only barely separated enough to facilitate a semblance of free movement. On her desk, just beside the small bed, a pile of Styrofoam takeout boxes had become a mountain, leaning and threatening to fall over at any moment. Her backpack sat tucked away beneath the desk, devoid of its contents—these were strewn about the room, forgotten and uncared for since the end of her studies for the rigorous tests.
With burning chest and aching stomach, Ruby stood from her bed. Her legs were none too happy about this and just about buckled under the tiny bit of stress. She stumbled forward and fell into a small pile of clothes.
"Damn it…" Ruby hissed, rubbing her right leg. It ached worst of all.
The previous night came back to her, and Ruby began to feel a bit ashamed of herself. After all the encouragement and help—both from her family and her newfound friend—she was letting it all fall apart around her. But in the end, what much did such things matter? That question, and the shame of letting it all go, was becoming harder and harder to care about.
After picking herself up from the pile of forgotten laundries, Ruby made for the tiny kitchen nook. She opened the little half-fridge on the counter, peering into its humming emptiness with dead eyes. Nothing—no bagels, no milk, not even crumbs enough for a mouse—lay within. She shut it to the sound of her rumbling stomach, cursed under her breath again and navigated another two piles of clothes.
How long had it been since Weiss came here? At least a month before her world fell apart, for certain. Her room had been a study in painstaking cleanliness then—at least, as much so as Ruby had ever managed—and had impressed her then-partner in studies. Now? Now it was a wreck, much resemblant of her room in those first few years after the injury that had precluded her from her dream.
An old dream, a dead dream, that now mattered as little as the rest.
Ruby's head swam from its dreary murk only for her eyes to see the mirror in her bathroom. She looked blindly at the crack in the bottom-left corner. The crusty blood on the knuckles of her left hand told her this was fresh damage. Ruby scoffed and turned to the shower.
She slipped out of her pajamas, turned the knob only so far as to get the water flowing and stepped in. It was cold as ice, and she didn't care. Matter of fact, she didn't even notice. She would wash herself just as every morning, she would step out and dress her wounded hand. She would go about her morning—go through the motions and the movements—until it was time. Time, that is, to go to the Siren's Call and ask her boss for a favor. And why should he deny her? Had she not been the source of the club's spike in attendance?
Not for pride but for cold, hard fact, Ruby knew she was that source. She also knew he wouldn't deny her request. Mahogany was a good, kind man—a rare commodity in what was gradually seeming an ever colder world to Ruby—and as such he would ask a few well-meaning questions, nod his head in understanding and grant her request.
So Ruby finished her shower, ignored her growling stomach and got ready. She dressed in the first clean outfit she managed to dig up. Of course, having no real reason to care, she entirely forwent the application of any cosmetics.
Once this was done, and she was as ready as she would get, Ruby walked to her door. She looked to her wrist to see the time, noticing that the Cheshire grin of her wristwatch was not there. She dropped her hand to her side and grabbed the doorknob, turned it and pulled. Then, just before leaving, she stopped.
Ruby looked out into the beautiful morning—the few people bustling along the sidewalk across the parking-lot, the many-colored birds flitting through the sky, the spring-green trees billowing in a light breeze—and shut the door. She turned and bolted to her nightstand, tears already welling in her eyes, and snatched up the little watch. After fixing it in place, just as she was about to try and leave again, Ruby decided there was one more thing she needed. It hurt her heart to even look upon it, and heavens forfend how much it hurt to hold it, but she simply wouldn't—couldn't—leave without it.
When Ruby finally left, headed for the train that would take her deeper into the city, a bright, rose-red cloak billowed behind her.
Ͼ
"Calm you seem, Weiss. Content, serene… Fare well for you, life has?"
Weiss looked across the little coffee table at her old mentor—her old friend—and smiled. In the cool, spring breeze, his few gossamer strands of white hair tousled and tossed. His face, covered so thoroughly in wrinkles as to be quite comic, was lifted like a curtain with a great grin. He leaned forward on his cane, wizened blue eyes staring intently at the heiress's face.
"I take it you heard about our… success with the exams?" Weiss said.
Axter sat up a bit—as much as he could, what with the massive hump upon his centenarian back—and turned his gaze. A cherry tree in fresh bloom loomed over them, scattering its many pink blossoms everywhere. The table was covered with them, the cobblestone street dusted finely in the—even their steaming drinks were no exception. A few had managed to becoming tangled in Axter's thin hair, making him look some few decades younger.
"Much pride you bring me." Axter said, looking back to his former protégé. He picked a few petals from his tea and took a sip, smacking his droopy lips with blatant pleasure.
"Thank you." Weiss said, beaming with no small bit of pride, "But… I'm not the only one who deserves praise. Honestly, next to her, my triumph is really nothing of note."
Axter raised one eyebrow, which was as long and fine as the hair on his head and billowed with the same playfulness in the wind. He smiled again, making his wrinkled jowls look like a series of many more smiling lips.
"Think our conversation has settled in, I do." He said, having another sip of his tea, "Think you have taken the words I gave to heart, I do indeed."
Axter chuckled, which sounded something like a series of humming noises mixed with a nasally cough.
"She's really quite bright." Weiss said, staring at her own tea whilst picking petals out of it, "And quite brave, too. I mean, after going through what she has, I can't imagine how she's still functioning so well…"
Then the image of Ruby the previous night—smiling, laughing, cutting up, yet still seeming so off—came back to Weiss. With an unconscious frown, she plucked the last pink petal from her tea. The heiress held it and stared, turning it over and back again with absent interest. A moment later, she tossed it away, where it hit a soft breeze and began to float, and picked up the tea.
"See you care so much about another, never again did I think I might." Axter said, snapping Weiss out of her thin trance, "Lighten my spirit, it does. A good friend, found you seem to have. Protect this, you should, Weiss."
The heiress looked up at her old mentor, and her eyes suddenly felt hot and heavy. Not soon after, her face began to flush and her heart began to race.
"A good friend…" Weiss repeated in a low whisper.
"Mm, a good friend indeed. And care much, you seem to. Gainsay this, can you?"
Weiss thought about it for a moment, trying hard not to let the tears roll down her cheeks. She picked up her napkin and patted the corners of her eyes. Above them, the cherry tree let loose another bushel of petals which scattered like pink snow. Axter caught one in his hand with a gentle grip and held it out to her.
"See this tiny petal, do you?" He said, his voice taking on a gentle tone akin to when he would give her lessons as a child, "So beautiful and so bright, yet not long shall it last. Soon brown and dead it will be, like so many petals before it… like so many after it…"
Her icy eyes looked upon that tiny, pink petal in rapt awe. Axter's lessons had always carried a weight to them that could be felt in just his tone. Even now, nigh unto two decades after she'd outgrown his tutorship, Weiss sunk into something akin to a trance listening to him.
Still holding the petal in his open palm, Axter went on, "A symbol of life and death, the cherry tree is. Yet, also a symbol of friendship and life do I see it as. In the Spring it blossoms, scatters its petals to the wind. Beautiful it is, if only for a time, but come back it will—with care and faithful tending."
Another faint breeze picked up, tousling the snow-white hair of both and carrying the little petal away.
"Many kinds there are, in Winter and Spring, both, blooming. Wheresoever taken, cared for and wanted, will they find purchase…"
Axter licked his lips and took a sip of tea.
"Much like friendship, is it not? Cared for, wished for, pined for it must be, if ever it is to take root and thrive. Fragile, also, it is, like the tiny petal."
"Why are you telling me this?" Weiss said. She was still in that dreamy state that Axter's voice tended to put her in when he imparted wisdom.
"Why, indeed…" Axter hummed, looking up at the tree. His wizened old eyes crawled across its blooms in plaintive reverence, an old, painful memory playing in his head.
Weiss watched him for a moment, then looked away. Her eyes found her tea first, from which she plucked many petals that had fallen in. As she drank the tea—unintentionally draining it entirely—a bell began to ring from a tower behind her. It chimed twice, loud and high, indicating the time had reached two in the afternoon.
Weiss sat the empty cup on its saucer, looked at her old mentor—who still stared raptly at the pink blooms above them—and thought about his words. It didn't take long for the heiress to decide to ask the question that had sparked this meeting, which she had set up almost a week earlier.
With a sigh, Weiss said, "And what of love?"
For a moment, Axter continued to stare at the blooms. Then, with eyes widening in utter surprise, he looked from them to Weiss. Never in all the years that she'd known him had Weiss seen his eyes open so wide. And in that moment, seeing her old mentor's eyes fully for the first time, she realized they weren't blue at all—some trick of only ever seeing them open half-way, surely.
"Love?" Axter repeated, his lavender eyes open as wide as they could possibly be.
"Yes." Weiss said, matter-of-factly, "Tell me what you think—what you know—of it."
α
Ruby looked at her watch. The long paw pointed straight up, the short one tick behind. It was only eleven, and she was already wanting to go back home—to her actual home, in Patch, where she could let go of all these fanciful ideas of fancy education and important work. Where she could start gathering things together, scheming her scheme and making herself ready. Ready, that is, for something she never would have considered even just two months prior.
The train lurched as the brakes engaged, slowing the monolith to a halt. Ruby looked up and watched the people all around begin to shuffle for the door. It opened with a whoosh and they filed out, only to be replaced by just as many—if not more—not a moment after. Mostly younger people like herself, only these wore business attire and were clearly on their way to or from lunch. One, however, parted the crowd with her entry.
A woman with a dust-mask over her mouth sauntered in, coughing and hacking and gripping her chest. Her cheeks were flushed and her brow slick with a thin sheen of sweat. She stumbled once, two men stepping quickly away so as not to be touched, and barely regained herself before grabbing one of the overhead handles. The woman's grip looked weak and strained.
Ruby watched for only a moment before reaching out, lightly grasping the woman's blazer and tugging. The woman looked around, startled.
"Here." Ruby said, and stood.
She pointed to the empty seat—the only one vacant in the train car—and the woman clearly understood. They switched places, Ruby taking hold of the handle while the woman sat down. Then Ruby felt a tug on her cloak. She looked at the lady now in her former seat. Her mask was pulled down.
"Thank you." The woman croaked, to which Ruby only smiled in return.
Ruby turned back around and watched the buildings pass by just beyond the window. She felt the bulge in her pocket, hoping the Lien would be enough to see her plans to fruition.
Just as she'd thought, Mahogany had been most generous when she asked for the advance in pay. Of course, Ruby had neglected to mention she had no intention of coming back—to either the University or the Siren's Call—but this little lie didn't faze her to tell. For a moment there had been a glimmer in his eye and she thought he might have known somehow, but that momentary fear was assuaged when he did nothing more than ask her how much and immediately give her the requested monies.
The train came to another stop some ten minutes later. Ruby snapped out of her ruminations when the brakes once more caused it to lurch. She looked, saw the bistros and cafes just below and beyond the platform. Then, just before the doors closed, Ruby slipped through them.
A spot of tea before heading off would do her well, she supposed.
Ͼ
"And why ask this question, do you?"
There had been ten minutes of silence. In it, Weiss had felt her heartbeat climb to a manic pace and her skin flush all over. From her forehead all the way to her toes. After seeing her mentor's eyes fully for the first time—in all their bright and wizened lavender glory—the heiress had made no further eye-contact.
Now, finally looking at Axter again, Weiss said, "I'm just curious, is all."
And this was not entirely a lie. Axter, of course, would not be fooled in the slightest. Eyes still fully open, he raised one brow and scratched his chin. Were his tea not empty, he might've sipped on it to wet his dry throat.
"Wondered, I did." Axter said in a sagely tone, "Ask no more about it, I will. Answer, instead, your question I shall."
A hard breeze picked up and Weiss felt a shiver fire up her spine. The tree over them loosed so many petals, it looked to her as if the thing must surely go bare. It did not, however, and seemed to have a limitless supply of the tiny flowers.
"Powerful." Axter said, "Longsuffering, patient, enduring… These things and many more, it is. A great mountain of stone, unassailable by all but the most determined. Many imitations there are, but only one truth. Softly called and softer answered, rarely heard and rarer mastered."
Axter looked to Weiss as if he might go on, but suddenly stopped. The little old man spied something behind her and stood, offering one last comment before departing.
"How enormous and mysterious life is, you must try not to forget. Even if the clouds gather, lose not that light, Weiss. That is love…"
Weiss stood as if to go after him. Another chill assailed her, and she stopped. The heiress watched Axter totter off, hobbling on his twisted cane, as a feeling of being watched fell over her. She turned around to see only the same passersby—none that stood out, none she recognized—and was at a loss.
She sat back down and considered his words, along with her own. Why had she asked him that, anyway? She had wanted this meeting to discuss certain… revelations with him, this chief among them. But to come right out and ask was not like her, not at all.
Behind Weiss, off in the bistro where a crowd of lunchtime customers went about their business, a pair of emerald-green eyes watched her. He knew the answer to every question she had now, every question she'd had in the past, and every question she would have hereafter. And not just Weiss either, but the woman who sat snoozing at a table by the front window.
He knew, but he intended to make both women find the answers themselves—in themselves and of themselves.
α
She stands in a field of roses. Red as can be, stretching on to the horizon no matter which way she looks. And she looks every which way, for she knows she is lost. She can feel it in her bones. But there is a warm breeze blowing across the field, tilting those roses and making it look like a roiling ocean of blood. Then the breeze picks up the petals, scattering them into the sky to join the oranges and purples in the clouds from the setting sun.
Ruby feels a presence beside her, and looks. It's Yang, of all people, and her heart is suddenly as lead in her chest. It hurts so bad; it feels so heavy…
"Keep that chin up, Sis." Yang says, watching the swirling cloud of red.
But Ruby has no words to reply. Her mouth is full of cotton, or so it feels. She opens it and tries, but only thick sobs come out for her trouble. Yang looks to her, and, for the first time she can ever recall, Ruby doesn't want to look her sister in the eye. Those lavenders feel like they're burning holes in her…
Then she feels another presence. Ruby turns, fully around, to see another woman. She doesn't recognize this one. The woman stands just as tall as she does, but her figure is more filled out and the top of her face is obscured by a hood atop a white cloak that billows in the breeze. Across her mouth, which Ruby can see, there is a wide smile.
"Yang's right." The woman says in a very familiar voice, "You need to keep your chin up. You're better than this…"
Ruby opens her mouth to speak, but is hushed by two things. The first is an overwhelming gust that traverses the entire, endless field, scattering every last petal from every last rose and making a veritable blanket of blood-red. The second, and even more powerful, is the warmth that suddenly presses against her back and wraps around her.
Without looking, she knows it is Yang. Her sister hugs her tight from behind, giving off a comforting warmth that halts all other action or thought.
"Yang's keeping me company just fine." The woman in the white cloak says.
"Yeah, and neither one of us wants you here any time soon." Yang says, and squeezes a tad tighter.
Ruby's eyes begin to flow like a faucet, with no warning. The tears roll freely and hard. A river, by no other word, pours down her face and onto her sister's crossed arms.
The woman in the white cloak steps up to Ruby. She pulls her hood down, and it's like looking into a mirror, perhaps even taking off a few years. Ruby's mouth opens to speak again, and she finally manages the words that have been nowhere to be found. Her voice is thick, her chest is tight and her lungs feel as though they must surely burst.
"Mom…" Ruby chokes out. Not a moment after, her crying is inconsolable.
Summer takes another step and wraps both her daughters in her arms. It is a fantastic feeling Ruby would never trade for anything.
"I love you so much." Summer whispers into Ruby's ear, "We both do, my sweet little Rose. So please… Don't throw yourself away."
Ruby nods her understanding. And in her mother's arms, it feels like she could let it go. It feels as though there might just be a reason to turn away and relinquish the idea of seeking bloody satisfaction. But there is something wrong, too, that keeps that feeling from fully overcoming her. Something cold and vicious and just strong enough to keep Ruby from changing her mind.
And that cold, vicious thing stands at the edge of the field of roses, watching the three women. Ruby feels its gaze…
Ђ
Ruby bolted upright in her chair, knocking the table in front of her over and throwing her tea to the floor. She looked around, still feeling the warmth of her mother's arms. It was like a cruel joke—that she should only ever know that feeling from a dream, having lost her when she was so young—and her eyes immediately began to throb with fresh tears.
"Are you ok?"
A woman stood just beside her, clearly worried. It was the barista that had taken her order. Ruby gave her a weak smile and tried to brush it off.
"I'm fine, just woke up a little suddenly is all." Ruby said, "I'll pay for the cup and the commotion."
"That's fine, Ma'am." The barista said with a pitying look, "Just wanted to be sure you were alright."
Ruby stood and picked up the table. The barista watched a moment longer, looking as though she might offer another worried question or two, before leaving. The entire crowd in the little bistro stared at Ruby, which she realized after having a look around. Having no want to further embarrass herself, Ruby took some of the paper Lien from her pocket and set it on the table before leaving. She hurried across the room and went outside.
The day was so beautiful. Spring was in full run. The air was just warm enough to be comfortable, there was barely a cloud in the bright blue sky and cherry petals flitted about like snow. Looking at her wristwatch, Ruby saw she had napped a good three hours away. Of course, even with the gorgeous day greeting her, her present mood soured any rest the nap might have imparted.
She started to walk off to the train station. Every instinct burned within her to hop on, ride it to the airship landing on the other side of town and purchase a one-way ticket to Patch. Two steps on, and this plan was halted by a familiar voice.
"Ruby?"
Weiss, who had been thinking on her own problems, noticed her friend just as she was about to take that third step. Calling out to her, in a moment of mixed relief and surprise, Weiss ensured that step didn't happen. Then Ruby turned, and Weiss's relief was replaced with a burning dismay that tasted of stomach-acid.
Her friend was a portrait of a disheveled, emotionally wrecked mess—something that belonged more in a Psychiatry One-o-One manual. Her boots were only laced, not tied, and the socks beneath weren't matched. Her dress was a wrinkled mess, her bodice laced up only half-way. The sleeves of her petticoat poked out at unmatched length, and worst of all was the hastily bandage hand that looked to still be bleeding a tad.
"Ruby…" Weiss said again, in a low and worried tone, "What happened to you?"
"Nothing." Ruby said, "I was just in a rush this morning, that's all."
She tried to put on the smile and cheery façade she'd worn for most of the last month. In all truth, it was a success to no small degree—a success that did nothing to fool Weiss, this time. When this became apparent to her, Ruby thought first to turn and run for the train. She knew she could, but something stayed her feet.
Weiss stood and walked to her friend. As she approached, the urge to run grew stronger in Ruby. Still she did not, but only barely.
"You're a mess." Weiss said, reaching a hand out to Ruby. The hand approached her face, slow and careful, but stopped just short of contact. Weiss pulled it back just as slowly and clutched it to her chest.
And Ruby watched this with a cosmos of thoughts tumbling around her fevered mind.
"I guess I am…" She said, sighing.
Weiss reached out again, and a wondrous thing happened. This time her hand made it all the way to Ruby's face, touching her cheek with a reserved sort of care. Like a chemist pouring two frightfully volatile chemicals together, worried they might blow the entire lab to oblivion at the slightest hiccup. And as that tender touch was made, the hardest breeze of the day blew through. The cherry trees all around the bistro's courtyard buckled and swayed, loosing every last petal from every last bloom. Just like in Ruby's dream, the petals swirled around like a sea…
Pink this time, like hope rather than blood.
"What are you doing, Weiss?" Ruby asked, her voice breaking and her eyes overflowing.
Weiss looked on in dumb silence, watching her friend's eyes pour streams that looked like flowing silver by some trick of the sunlight.
"What am I doing…" Weiss said faintly, more to herself than Ruby.
She started to pull her hand back. Ruby took hold of it and pressed it back where it was, leaning her cheek into Weiss's cool palm. The heiress felt her tears, hot and plentiful, as the woman began to openly sob. So she stepped closer and wrapped her other arm around Ruby's waist, pulling her into an embrace. Soft at first, but stronger after a time. How long? Neither could have answered if later asked.
"Are you really going to go see your Dad with such a sad face?" Weiss whispered, slipping her hand from Ruby's face and hugging the woman with both arms.
Ruby's response was to openly wail.
Ω
How many minutes passed before Ruby finally spoke again? Answering in a logical, practically grounded manner, Weiss would've said twenty. Answering in a more esoteric, emotionally charged manner, she would've said ages. No matter which, however, Weiss would never be able to deny—even unto her dying day, in a field of lilies and monkshoods—that she realized and fully accepted something important in that endless-seeming silence.
After holding her wailing mess of a friend for some five or ten minutes, Weiss managed to get both of them back to the table she had been sharing with Mister Axter. She sat Ruby down first, for the woman sorely needed the assistance, and then herself in short order. A barista came to take their order—the same that had checked on Ruby after her rude awakening—but Weiss only shooed her away. From there, they sat in silence. Ruby shifted in her seat after a few minutes, drawing her knees up to her chin and hugging them tightly. After that she was still as a statue. Weiss looked on quietly. She had her own thoughts rolling around in her head, most of which were concerned with the woman across from her.
And not a few of which were concerned with the question she posed to Mister Axter just before he left, which she answered for herself just as Ruby broke the silence at last.
"I lied." Ruby said, her voice almost fully muffled by her knees.
"I know." Weiss said.
Another short silence, then Ruby said, "I'm not ok."
"I know that too."
Ruby watched Weiss with clear suspicion. Her eyes begged caution, but her throbbing, aching heart cried for succor. The urge to open up and lay it bare was all but undeniable, yet overpowered by the malignant disposition that had haunted her since leaving Patch. Or, if one were to be entirely thorough, since watching her sister die before her very eyes.
"You're still thinking about Yang." Weiss said.
Ruby nodded once in response, slow and deliberate.
"It hasn't stopped hurting." Weiss said.
Another slow, deliberate nod.
"And yet you still managed to pass a test that few of Remnant's brightest could ever hope to overcome."
A surprise dawned in Ruby's eyes for a moment, bright and vibrant, before dissipating the next instant. Undeterred, Weiss went on.
"I said I'm here for you, Ruby." Weiss said, leaning forward and placing a hand on one of Ruby's, "If you need to talk, I'm here. If you need to cry, I'm here. If you need to cut loose and scream, yell or break something… well, I know more than a few places."
Clutching Ruby's hand, Weiss squeezed tighter to emphasize her point. Ruby only continued to watch with a mistrustful glare.
"This isn't something anyone expects you to get over easily." Weiss went on, "It's ok to hurt over it—it'd still be ok to hurt over it two years from now!"
A cold wind blew over them, disturbing the many petals all around. The trees however, now bare and devoid of their blossoms, had nothing more to give that cold wind. It whistled through their boughs, shaking the poor things fruitlessly.
"I can't do this…" Ruby whispered, barely audible against that whistling cold.
But Weiss heard her, and squeezed that hand a little tighter as she responded.
"Whatever you are going to do, Ruby…" Weiss said, taking a breath and readying herself, "I'll be there with you."
At first, Ruby's gaze was the same dead glare it had been for most of the last half-hour. Then understanding began to dawn, chased quickly and replaced with awe. The sort of dumb-struck awe that mankind must have felt when Dust was first used to fend off the Grimm.
"What do you mean?" Ruby asked with mixed disbelief and hope, though the latter was entirely unconscious.
Weiss took a deep breath and let go of her friend's hand. She sat up straight in her seat, collecting her thoughts as fully as she could. And there was much and more to collect. An entire lifetime's worth had been building and coalescing since that momentary slip on the cliff in far-off Patch. Things that had been built on other feelings—feelings that had been there longer but were of no less import.
The heiress shut her eyes and took another breath. She let it go in a deep, longing sort of sigh. A satisfied sigh; a sigh that said it was time. All around, the cherry petals danced like playful wisps. Birds flitted through the sky, chirping happy tunes into the clouds. The conversations of all the passersby—all the people that occupied the same space, both within and without the bistro—died away.
Weiss opened her eyes at last and looked into Ruby's, her heart racing but her mind calm.
"Ruby…" Weiss said, "I'll be there, for whatever you decide to do. I'll be there because…"
And then it hit her, staying Weiss's tongue if only for an instant. How should she say it? It only took a moment to decide, of course; she was a Schnee after all. Upfront and blunt, go big or go home, all or nothing—the Schnee way until the end…
"I love you."
She said it, and it was good. Ruby heard it, and it was accepted—without hesitation, without thought. Yes, there were still many things wrong. Yes, her sister was still dead, and yes, that pain was still monumental. No, those simple words would not right these wrongs, but in that moment of heartfelt confession—in that moment of open and simple palaver, from one soul to another—there descended a peace upon her. It would not stay the coming storm, and it would not halt the approaching oblivion in its entirety…
But, at least for the moment, these two roses—red, and white—danced gleefully in their newfound hope, in their newfound truth.
And it was good.
To Be Continued…
Afterword
Well, here we have it Dearest Reader. The Roses have begun their dance, and for now our story is done. This is no final end, oh no—the complete resolution will come later. For now, however, I hope you are all satisfied with what we have seen thus far.
But enough of that, for there are a few words I would say.
First of these are my thanks. To Monty Oum—God rest your soul—I thank you so much for making this world. These characters, which I hope have been given just representation in my derivative work, and this world of yours, which is every bit as enchanting as Vvardenfell or Middle Earth, are treasures. You may have passed on, oh Good Man, but your legacy and memory shall burn eternal in these things, and in those that will forever miss you.
Next, I have to thank and acknowledge the one who made this story possible. To you, Rebecca, I give my thanks for allowing me to flesh out your idea. It was your prompt that spawned this—what was supposed to be a more erotic one-shot—and my pestering that has turned it into the epic I will continue to weave. And yet, in the end… there would be no Roses, dancing or otherwise, without that simple prompt. So once again: Thank You.
Last to be thanked, but equally as important as any, are you, Dearest Readers, that have deigned to spare my work a glance or two. For all your time reading, for all your effort critiquing, and for all the patience given: thank you. From the bottom of my heart, with sincerest sincerity—thank you.
Now, before I wrap this up, I have to say this one last thing:
This story has been an adventure to write. I've learned so much along the way, both in grammar and structure. I've made a real mess of it in style, constantly switching up—but the next installment will not be so. When next I tell of our Dancing Roses, the style will be consistent and refined. However, for the sake of preserving my breadcrumbs, there will be no revision to this work. I want each mistake that made it by my editing to remain, so I can see where I came from; I want each dissimilarity between each chapter to remain, so I can better study how to move forward.
So again, thank you all for putting up with this. I hope it was enjoyable, and I hope you'll be ready when the next installment comes. Until then…
Long days and pleasant nights, Dearest Reader,
-Adjudicato