Chapter 11: Deadly Encounter

"My father and Winter have always liked the colour white. White roses and casablancas would be suitable. Yes, and orchids too. Make sure they have the lanterns prepared. It looks like this darkness is here to stay for a while. And finally, make sure that guests know that rather than send a sympathy bouquet or gift, please ask them to make a donation in my father's name to the victims of the latest mine explosion. The Company will match each dollar donated as well."

"Is that everything, Miss Schnee?"

"Yes. That will be all."

"Alright then. Good night, Miss Schnee." Her father's assistant left, closing the door softly behind her.

Weiss sighed and collapsed into the leather business chair. Ever the workaholic, her father spent more time in his study than anywhere else in the mansion. Once in a while, he would join them for dinner. Most times though, he preferred to dine alone in this room, or not at all. Every single object in the room reminded Weiss of him. Weiss picked up her father's favourite fountain pen and felt the weight of it in her palm. She closed her fingers around the cool metal shaft and stared into space.

"Weiss?" Ruby poked her head through the doorway. "We saw that lady leave, so we figured you were done in here," she explained.

"Come on in," she said, dropping the pen as her fingers shook. She clenched her hand into a fist again to stop the shaking.

"Are you done with all the funeral arrangements and details?"

Weiss nodded.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"How are you feeling?" Blake asked, looking Weiss directly in the eyes.

The heiress averted her gaze, turning her focus to the fountain pen again. "I'm fine."

"No you're not. Eventually, you're just going to have to let it all go, Weiss."

"I'm okay Blake. I don't have time to grieve."

"Yes, you do. Get angry, cry, but just… just feel something. It's been days since your father and sister's passing, and the funeral's tomorrow. Please, just mourn for them. I'm worried about you."

"I… I'm quite exhausted. Good night." Without giving Blake an opportunity to speak, Weiss stood up and exited the room. She fought hard to keep her limp to a minimum, but she could still feel Blake's eyes on her.

It's not as if she isn't affected by their passing. She was, but with the societal chaos and her own mixed feelings about her father, Weiss didn't know how to react.

Weiss

Her rest was as agitated as her mood. Weiss rolled onto her side, settled for a brief instant, then collapsed onto her back once again.

Since returning home two nights ago, she had been plagued by insomnia, falling into a restless sleep only after her mind and body could no longer handle the exhaustion. Her days were long, starting and ending with research and reading of files and documents to catch up on the most recent Schnee Dust Company dealings. Blake spent the mornings and evenings with her in the study, also examining invoices, orders and records, although the Faunus' intentions were different than her own. Blake was insistent that someone in or close to the Schnee Dust Company was behind the assassination of her family and the attempt on her own life. The Faunus has suggested a few board members, even General Ironwood at one time. Weiss didn't doubt her friend, but made no push to investigate. The sisters had little patience for such attentive work, and opted to fight off Grimm attacks or support the police in settling public riots during their stay at Atlas. The afternoons were spent on physical training, with Blake assisting her recovery process. Weiss' aura has been effective in healing her injuries – the bruises and lacerations have faded, and while her full strength has yet to return courtesy of her heart failure, the heiress felt pretty healthy. The one injury that still presented lingering effects was her left hand. She could grip Myrtenaster once again and wield it effectively in drills, but every time she sparred with Blake, she could never maintain her control. Her motions were stiff and her hand would seize up in pain after prolonged parries. Blake would always cease her strikes whenever Weiss dropped her rapier, checking to see if she was fine. Weiss detested her weakness and inability to perform at her usual levels, although she did secretly find comfort when Blake activated her aura and massaged her left hand to work out the tightness and stimulate her blood flow to the region.

The heiress exhaled deeply and opened her eyes, catching a blurry glimpse of a blade descending towards her neck. She responded instinctively, her huntress training taking over and prompting her body to roll out of the path of the weapon.

Weiss released a strangled scream as the katana imbedded itself in her left shoulder. Before her attacker could remove the blade and attempt another strike, Weiss kicked the stranger in the temple, knocking him to the floor. Weiss groaned as the blade retracted, but quickly took advantage of her fallen foe. Doing a backwards shoulder roll, the heiress landed on the floor in a combat-ready position and grabbed Myrtenaster.

Her attacker leapt over the bed, swinging the katana into the side of her head. Weiss deflected the blade. Barely. A few strands of white hair fell to the floor. Her left cheek stung. He must have cut her.

Her heartbeat pounded rapidly against her ribcage, adrenaline coursing through her body. Weiss clamped her right hand over her wounded shoulder, stabilizing her weakened arm and staunching the flow of blood that leaked profusely. She remembered him. He was one of her captors. Weiss lifted Myrtenaster and engaged in a combat stance. This time, she wouldn't be so helpless.

As the lacerations piled on her arm and torso, Weiss inwardly cursed the cat Faunus for going too easy on her during their training. This guy was really fast, almost Blake-level fast. Even with her glyphs, not being at 100% was costly. The next block knocked Myrtenaster right out of her hand. Weiss found herself cornered against the wall, awaiting the killing blow.

A blur of shadows intercepted her attacker's next assault. Blake.

Blake pressed her own series of attacks, using both her blade and sheath to maximize her damage. Weiss formed a glyph under Blake's feet to pull her friend out of the katana's path, then summoned another one beneath her own to launch herself towards her attacker's back. He sensed her and dodged, giving Blake an opening to sweep his leg out from beneath him and press the tip of Gambol Shroud into his exposed neck. A bead of blood formed.

"Adam."

This Adam took advantage of Blake's hesitation and swept aside Gambol Shroud from his neck with his katana. It left a shallow scratch, but he ignored it. He kicked Blake squarely in the chest and flung his body into the window, shattering the glass and falling out.

Blake regained her composure and raced over to the window.

"Anything?" Weiss asked.

The Faunus shook her head. "No. He's gone." She turned her attention to the bleeding heiress who was on her knees and panting heavily. "You keep getting hurt," she said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up." She helped Weiss up into a standing position.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Blake. Some of the cuts are already healing."

Blake

Her hair still wet from the shower, Weiss sat at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a bathrobe. Blake had procured various first aid supplies from the cabinet while waiting.

Blake's heart ached at seeing her friend injured once again. The past two weeks had been difficult. She traced her thumb lightly across the faint red line beneath Weiss' left eye. The cut had almost fully healed, but its presence reminded Blake once more of how close she was to losing Weiss. Gently, she slid the blood soaked cotton bathrobe off Weiss' shoulder. As quickly as she could, she applied medication to Weiss' penetrated shoulder, and then applied pressure over the wound with sterile dressing. Weiss groaned in protest, but Blake kept a firm hold. The heiress rested her head right beneath the Faunus' chin, eyes shut tightly and breathing controlled and deep to keep from screaming in pain.

The scent of lavender in Weiss' shampoo was mesmerizing, and Blake's heightened sense of smell made her more susceptible to the soothing effects of this calming flower. She found herself growing sleepy, days of restlessness catching up to her. Blake berated herself for relaxing at a time like this. They were at war, and she needed to be alert. Who knew when the next attack will take place? Hastily, she pulled away from the heiress and reached for a roll of bandage. She wrapped the bandage tightly around Weiss' shoulder without a word.

"Blake, who's Adam?" Weiss asked as Blake covered the cuts on her abdomen with gauze.

'She deserves to know.' Blake relented.

"Adam was my friend and mentor in the White Fang," Blake said. "He helped me with my training and served as my partner on missions."

"You two were close, huh?"

Blake emitted a long deep breath, expressing her mixed emotions. "For lack of a better word, he was like a brother to me."

"What happened then?"

Blake began to dress the lacerations on Weiss' arms. "We were hijacking a container full of dust, and he was prepared to blow everything up, including the crew. So I severed the connecting train cars and left him and consequently, the White Fang.

Blake noticed a look of realization dawn on the heiress, but Weiss said nothing.