Summary:

Smile, little snowflake, for you have no other recourse.
Smile, hungry wolf, for your mistress calls to you.
Smile, bright flame, for you are at the precipice of an inferno that shall devour all your foes and leave you goddess of this broken world.

The wolf's breath caught in her throat, bared to the moonlight. So pale and pretty, her luscious neck exposed and vulnerable in absolute submission.

Her world was black, familiar darkness pressing in on all sides and surrounding her like a comfortable blanket. Like she was adrift in an endless void, a night without stars, and yet she was safe and warm. Her hunger warmed her from the inside, and the satin touch of her lover warmed her from the outside.

The shift of the blood red collar on her neck, the lingering sensation of soft fingers on her wolf's fur ears, the cool stone of the manor balcony on her bent knees.

The wolf breathed, and she heard a rustle of motion. The questing, guiding hands of her mistress caressed her exposed body with a practiced finesse.

Two taps on the inner thigh, three taps on the abdomen. Legs parted, sex displayed, breasts pushed out, arms at her sides, wrists turned up. Swift, eager, obedient.

That touch again. Fire, fire hotter than the sun burning her cold, pale flesh. The sparks of mad, desire-inducing heat traced their way down her throat, passed her pert breasts, and graced her thighs. The wolf let out a long, soft moan, and the fiery mistress whispered, "Such a good pet."

Three taps on her spine, and the wolf slowly laid back until her whole body was lying there against the icy stone, relaxed and on display. The floor was cold, but it could do nothing to quell the fires of lust and hunger raging within the wolf. All the ice and snow in the world could do nothing to dull the dark furnace inside her.

Silence.

Stillness.

Anticipation. Visceral carnality raced down every nerve in her body. Overwhelming need demanded the wolf sate her lust, claim the object of her desire. But the wolf obeyed her alpha. She lay there, still and silent. She breathed in and out, and every inch of her burned as it waited for the graceful flame to return, for the glorious light to touch her eager flesh.

And the goddess of fire came at last. Her long, alluring legs pressed against the wolf's, her seductively-curved body so close now, her heat matching the wolf's heat and then surpassing it. In the icy north, an inferno burned.

Her teeth, perfect white, pristine, sharp. Pain, sharp, subtle, welcome. Blood, dripping down the wolf's neck to slowly soak into the balcony stones. A dozen pinpricks, each carrying with them the memory of every scar, every wound.

It hurt. Each hurt, and she could remember that hurt, and together it was more than any mortal could bear. It hurt a lot. But that's what love was.

Love was hunger, and pain. It was fire, blazing and consuming. It was darkness, all-encompassing. It was breaking, and healing. It was toys, and pets, and eternity.

Cinder Fall asked, "Do you love me, pet?"

And the wolf that had once been Ruby Rose answered, "Always and forever, Mistress."

The blindfold slowly came off, and she saw Cinder smiling down at her.

The wolf smiled back.

A few weeks had passed since Weiss had been ambushed.

To her disgust and dread, their plan had worked.

Weiss had brought in Cinder and Ruby, and she'd played her part. She'd pretended to be reluctant to bring them in, but suggested it might be their only option. Ruby had backed her up, and the word of two huntresses had convinced the rebellion that Cinder, though not to be trusted, was for now to be brought in to their meetings.

Cinder had given up information about other survivors, hidden supply caches, Faunus slaves to free, Grimm movement patterns, and all sorts of secrets Salem had been hiding. With every victory, every bolster to the rebellion's confidence, their trust in Cinder grew.

Weiss was there in the forefront of that, her own slow turn to trusting Cinder convincing the other rebels. Cinder was gracious, and polite, and thanked them for their trust.

And inside, Weiss died a little more every day. She felt herself cracking a little more every time Ruby commanded her with that irresistible voice, every time she felt the parasite inside her mess with her memories and her desires, bending her to the will of the wolf she'd once called a friend. The betrayal was the part that hurt the most. It hurt every time she saw Ruby, the girl who had helped her make friends at Beacon. It hurt every time she saw the wolf that had replaced Ruby, the nightmare that wore her friend's flesh and stole her friend's voice.

Weiss could do nothing.

She could do nothing but what she was told, and so she laughed and joked and she acted like the perfect rebel leader, and she worked alongside Cinder and Ruby to plot the downfall of Salem, and inside she cried and cried and tried to hide from herself, but she couldn't. She couldn't hide, because every time Ruby used that voice she only wanted to do what she was told, and then the moment it wore off she realized what she had become and she broke a little more.

But she wasn't broken yet.

Weiss was in an elegant parlor with Ruby and one of the rebels. They were chatting, and drinking tea, and discussing plans.

And the time limit had just passed. For twelve hours after a command was given, the parasite's hold on her was absolute. But once that passed, Weiss understood everything that had happened, and regained control over her body and mind. She tracked the time precisely whenever a command was given, and she knew without a doubt that the last command had been just over twelve hours ago.

For the moment, she was free. And while aloud she chatted away and pretended to still be the happy Huntress, friends with Ruby, inside she plotted. She plotted to seize her opportunity the moment she could and tell someone about what had happened to her, tell someone so they could alert the rebels and oust these two monsters that walked among them, the wolves among the sheep.

Her moment came upon her. Ruby stood up and smiled at the two of them and said, "I need to go talk to Cinder about something, I'll be back in a few minutes. Nigel, why don't you tell Weiss what you told me yesterday?"

Nigel grinned and nodded as Ruby left. He was one of the younger recruits. He'd wanted to become a Huntsman, before the world ended.

Weiss hated to wait, but nodded pleasantly as Ruby walked away and Nigel started to talk.

"I have this dream, see," he told her. "I want to be there when we rebuild Atlas, and to become a teacher at the academy when we reopen it. I want to train others, so that together we can fight back the Grimm and rebuild civilization." He laughed. "Can you imagine that one of the people who destroyed Vale is going to be the one who helps us rebuild everywhere? It's crazy."

Yeah, it was crazy. Crazy and wrong. Weiss clenched her fist and opened her mouth to speak, but the look on his face froze her.

Hope.

Cinder and Ruby... gave them hope. They brought with them a promise, a promise of a better world, of rebuilding a shattered world and recreating society.

It was for their own, dark ends, but in the end it was still better than the alternative. It still brought the people hope.

What right did Weiss have to take that hope from them?

So she just nodded, and let him keep talking. After a few minutes Ruby walked back in, and Weiss saw curiosity in her eyes as she examined the two of them.

Then Ruby nodded, and smiled, and Weiss understood.

A test. It had been a test, to show Weiss the price of defying Ruby and Cinder. She was sure that if she'd told Nigel, Ruby would have just killed him.

It was checkmate.

They chatted more, and finished their tea, and then Nigel left and the Weiss was alone with her dark mistress, with the wolf that had betrayed her and broken her.

"So," said Ruby, "I guess you got the message."

Weiss nodded glumly. "Yeah."

"Well, if that's the case, I don't suppose we need to keep suppressing you. You're going to be a good girl for us, aren't you?" Ruby's head was tilted at an odd angle, like a cat surveying its prey.

Weiss nodded again. "I won't fight."

Ruby clapped her hands with glee. "Yay! Oh trust me, now that we're over that little rebellious phase, we can have so much fun together."

Weiss just looked into her tea.

"Ah, come on, Weiss. Don't be so sad."

Weiss looked up with dead hate in her eyes, and Ruby quirked an eyebrow.

"Smile for me?"

It wasn't a command. It was a question, one that Weiss was free to answer however she wanted. She could spite them, she could defy them, she could retain some shred of independence and individuality even in this dark existence.

But she didn't.

Weiss just smiled.

Cinder surveyed the icy north as she sipped her tasteless wine.

Her precious wolf had told her of the snowflake's surrender, and it pleased her. That hopelessness filled her glass like a rich vintage.

She had played with her eager pet, and the life in once-empty eyes had pleased her. It was meat, red and juicy, so much greater than what she now pressed between her elegant teeth with careful tenderness.

Salem had belittled her. Had underestimated her.

Salem had called her hunger empty, had called her fire cold, had called her weak.

Salem was a fool. She believed only in instinct, and brutality, and the darkness that festered in the Grimm.

But there was so much more to life, and to power.

Power wasn't just breaking your toys. It was seeing the culmination of your efforts. It was seeing knees bent, and loyal gazes. It was seeing obedience, and supplication, and eager worship. It was seeing a wolf devote herself to you.

It was the moths drawn to the brightest, hottest flame. The flame that Cinder had devoted her life to becoming. The flame that at long last she truly was, unrestrained by Salem's malignant influence.

Salem could only see destruction. She only wanted to break down humanity into their weakest, basest parts. Salem would have lorded over the harvest, but she would gorge herself on the killing until she starved to death.

No, power was something more than that.

Power was building something to last. Power was servants, and palaces, and structures. Power was creating a dark empire that stretched across the world. Power was a billion souls kneeling in supplication, offering up worship to their god-empress.

Power was civilization. Hierarchy. Leadership.

Power was a bloody crown upon perfect hair. Power was delicate hands on the flesh of a lovely pet.

Power was more than just the fires that consumed and burned and tore down walls.

Power was the fire that burned slow, and long, and fed empires that would last for aeons.

The fires of civilization.

Cinder would be that fire.