Chapter 5
Weiss: The Atlesian Way, Part 2

Weiss absolutely hated her mother.

The woman had only gifted her children two useful lessons over the years. They had been passed down not from spoken word, but rather, from years of half-hearted neglect. They had to be learned by observation. Proof of that was etched into every disdainful memory Weiss Schnee had of her childhood. The first lesson was to never drink alone. The second was to never disparage your spouse in front of your child.

It was those two grave mistakes, often made in concert with one another. Those two selfish whims that came first, often at the expense of everything else. It was those two choices that ultimately ruined whatever harmony would befall the Schnee manor.

Her mother chose to drink, that was a fact.

She drank in celebration and disappointment alike, downing alcohol like water. She drank to cope, to self-medicate, and to soothe heartache. She drank in the mornings, vodka in her juice. She drank in the afternoon, brandy at tea time. She drank in the evening, wine at every socially hospitable gathering. She drank late at night, champagne flute well in hand at the midnight hour. She downed the liquid as though it had healing properties, ignoring the poison she fostered because of it.

Every upsetting memory Weiss had in her mind was the same. Her mother drank, and her father lashed out. The two of them acting out their own symbiotic hell, enabling the worst in each other.

Many thought the Schnee matriarch simply partook life's greatest pleasures. It was hardly an uncommon assumption. Many of the social elite did the same, particularly at social events. Spirits flowed freely, partaking was encouraged. It was after the parties that had always been concerning. They never asked about the splashes the servants would pour into her tea, juice, and cola. They'd never guess that she would smuggle a small two ounce flask with her at all times. They'd never catch on about the small pockets sewn into her dresses strictly to conceal it.

No one bothered to fathom the hours she spent in the gardens with a bottle at her side. The way she chipped at each long day, lamenting her very existence. Most importantly, they never would have concluded that her drinking could be the direct result of verbal abuse.

The problem was twofold, of course. She could hardly be blamed for her husband's loose tongue and foul temper. She couldn't be blamed for feeling neglected, couldn't argue against the decades of propriety beaten into her by family that preceded her. Women of her era were to be seen, not heard, and those lessons had been instilled into her almost perfectly.

Almost…

Yet, when she drank, she spoke up. When she spoke up, her husband lashed out. When his ire burned brightest, it turned to vengeance. The likes of which rained down upon his children, victims who could not escape. The cycle was ongoing, made worse by circumstance outside of the family's control. White Fang attacks and Faunus rallies only poured gasoline on an already burning flame. Weiss had never seen her father raise a hand to her mother, but she knew exactly what it felt like to endure his strikes.

Weiss couldn't count the times she had been slapped by him. The sting was vivid in the echoes of her memory. So were his words. She had been told to be quiet and ordered to obey. She knew his cruelty, understood his intentions as a means to inspire fear. Another method to maintain control. At his worst he was unforgivably manipulative, selfish, and unkind.

Yet, for all of his brutality, he had raised his children…for better and worse.

He was a father, ever present, always looming. Tyrannical, perhaps. Yet, a father all the same. As a little girl she had looked to him for guidance, which he willingly provided. He loved her intellectual nature and talented voice. He'd doted on her with his wealth, buying her gifts and tutors at her whim. When it came to items, she wanted for nothing. She merely asked, and simply received.

He was an awful man, there was no question in that. He did things she could never condone, and there was no justifying his temper. For all of his failing, of which he had a great many, Weiss could not deny his few successes either. They were rare, but, they were there. Memorable, influential, paving her way to the life she had today.

At the end of the day, her mother had done nothing to raise her, and even less to help her.

She had been too drunk to care...

"So, what, she just insulted him from across the table?" Blake asked as she listened to her friend spin a slow tale about the Schnee household.

"My mother was good at that. Looking down her nose at him, as if he were the only one to blame." Weiss nodded leisurely. "She was irate that he'd come to dinner so late in the first place, and his treatment of Klein was the last straw. She stood up from the table and stormed off in one direction. Father was flabbergasted that a woman would ever speak to him that way. He stormed off in the other direction towards his study."

"What happened to you guys?"

"My siblings and I?"

"Yeah."

"They left the three of us at the table alone. Winter just cut into her meal as though nothing happened." Weiss told Blake, not bothering to iterate the fact that it turned into a common occurrence as the years went by. "Whitley started crying. He was so little back then, he'd never seen our parents fight. I knew they argued, but I'd never heard anything quite like that. Honestly, I never realized how mean they could be to each other until that moment." Weiss said, regaling Blake on that rather dour moment in family history. "Klein came back to our side with three mugs of hot chocolate and a sad smile on his face."

"That's rough…"

"It's the little things like that. It might seem unimportant to most, but that's why I need Klein. I know he won't let history repeat." Weiss went on to say. "He would never let me fall so low. Even if I did, he'd protect Ada from anyone, even me. I trust that he would even fight me, if he had to."

Blake watched Weiss down the last bit of wine in her glass. The bottle itself easily drained between the two of them. "I think you're being way too hard on yourself. You're a good mom, Weiss."

"I wish." Weiss said with a scoff. "You know, I really envy you sometimes."

"What's there to envy about me?" Blake asked. "I'm just an average person. I go about my day the same way as everyone else."

"You may not have been born with a silver spoon, but, no one could buy the wealth you received." Weiss told her. "You had splendid role models to emulate. You could have chosen to walk in either of their footsteps and be proud of it. That's not something easy to obtain, you were blessed to receive it."

"I get why you say that about my dad, but my mom's basically just a housewife…"

"A high profile housewife, which is not as easy as it sounds." Weiss retorted with a wag of her finger. "Don't insult her. She's holding her side of things together more than you know. They're a team, and they both know it. Working together to achieve the best result."

"She's never made it seem particularly difficult." Blake said with a shrug. "I know my dad's a little headstrong, but she's happy. They both are."

"Your father prioritizes an entire population, but, your mom prioritizes him. What would become of Menagerie if she weren't there to look after him?" Weiss hated to admit it, but she found being a housewife a struggle she just couldn't win. It didn't suit her, it never would. "The household she keeps is just as important as being a chieftain. Your father can only lead his people so well because he can trust her with his burdens. She helps to carry them, and they must be immense. You should be proud of that."

"I am." Blake said. "In my own way."

Weiss let out a small puff of air. "Meanwhile, I could only be truly proud of Klein."

"What's so bad about admiring someone who treated you well?"

"In my position?" The white haired woman laughed. The question was completely ridiculous. "No one with half a brain would even think of saying that they admire their butler." She said before her smile waned, setting down the glass somberly. "But, I do admire him. Truly, I wish I could say that with more pride than I normally do."

Blake pulled her lip between her teeth, trying to find some way to return that brilliant smile that had once been there. Bitter humor aside, Weiss had delicate features, perfect for the image of contentment. Her chilly disposition concealed it too often, and that was just a shame. "Yeah, but he's not the only one, is he? Winter seems to have done well for herself. You can be proud of her, can't you?"

"I've always looked up to her. You know that. She's truly amazing, Blake." Weiss readily agreed, but the smile did not return. "Let me ask you this; who do you think influenced her? Do you honestly believe that my parents were the ones to raise such a well-rounded person?"

Blake a flicked an ear with a ghost of a frown. Winter was probably lucky she hadn't grown into a racist monster with a drinking problem. "Point taken."

"Don't get me wrong." Weiss continued then. "Winter has a great deal to be proud of. Those accomplishments aren't because she's a Schnee. They're in spite of it. She had no interest in the company, and she flat out hates our father. She only kept the ties to the family because she couldn't leave us behind. If Whitley and I hadn't been around she would have left. She probably would have upturned our entire family name along with it."

The magnitude of that statement floored Blake. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, but deep down, it was a cruel truth. The Schnee family were deeply rooted in Faunus culture as a symbol of oppression. The snowflake might as well have been a shackle to tether her kind. For countless Faunus, it had been. It was impossible to think of such an imposing family suddenly disappearing in the blink of an eye. Decades of malignancy would have died out with them.

Would that have truly been for the better?

Blake couldn't even imagine what the Faunus rights movement would be like if the Schnee family failed to exist. She didn't know what her own future would have been like if she had never made friends with the enemy. "Not going to lie, that's actually kind of terrifying. I'm not drunk enough to even consider it. I don't think I could ever be that drunk."

"Well you should consider it, Blake. Drunk or not, because it could have happened very easily. That's not the only dirty little lie my family buried." She said with a smirk. "It's not all doom and gloom though. If you want a love story for the ages, I've got one for you. There was once a time, long ago, that I could have just as easily been born with the family name Sieben."

Blake tried to make the metal leap. "Isn't that Klein's…" She trailed off, shaking her head. It was a bridge too far.

"It is." Weiss said honestly.

"Well, you are rather short. I could see it, maybe." The Faunus laughed, the concept perplexing her. "So, your mom and your butler..."

"He wasn't a butler back then." Weiss said, letting that all too important detail sink in. "He was just a handsome young man, a commoner. It was young love, but, he had nothing to his name. No one in the family was about to let that happen. They married her off in record time. Mother kept him close, hiring him on. Father enjoyed having a competent servant running the details in the household. We don't speak of it, Klein certainly doesn't…"

"How did you find out then?" Blake asked, leaning a little closer. "Did your mom tell you?"

"She has a distinct problem with holding tequila, which I was fatefully uninformed about." Weiss grumbled. "I learned far too many things that day. I wish I could burn some of them from my memory."

"Gland to know I'm not the only one with a mom who likes to over-share things." Blake said with a little smirk pulling on her lips. She didn't want to mention that Weiss also became quite chatty after a few glasses of wine. Like mother, like daughter. Even that slight comparison would have been unwelcome, so Blake kept it to herself. "Mine does it to be helpful, but I've never actually asked for the help."

"Mine did it to further insult my father. I was an adult by the time she told me, thank god. I think I would have been scarred for life if I had been told as a teenager." It was then that Weiss scowled, looking down at the empty glass again and shook her head. "Honestly, it blew me away at first."

"I'll bet."

"Now, I think it's kind of sweet. They're obviously very fond of each other…"

"Klein certainly seems nice enough." Blake said. "He's never treated me unfairly."

"I should think not. He's always been very much the gentlemen. Even if he were a racist –which he most certainly isn't- but if he were, he would never disrespect someone I hold in high regard." Weiss licked her lips then, a thought coming to her mind. It wasn't a new one, but, it was rather inconvenient. "He's always very careful of my feelings. Stern, but gentle. In retrospect, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if any of us were bastard born."

"Now there's a thought for you. I can just see it now." Blake laughed, waving her hand across the air. "Schnee CEO illegitimate owner, company set to change hands, news at eleven."

"Careful, the company would be given to Whitley, and he's not fond of Faunus. It would set the company back decades." Weiss teased darkly before she pressed a finger to her lips. She began tapping it idly while she thought. When that became too much effort, she took the last piece of chocolate from the tray and popped it into her mouth. "Schnee genetics run strong, the same as our semblance. Father wouldn't have ever known the truth unless a test was done."

"That's one way to look at it, I guess." Blake said offhandedly. "There's just one problem. If your eyes changed color based on your mood like Klein's does, it would be a dead giveaway."

"That's assuming his genes run strong, which I doubt. Commoners on his day weren't careful to preserve their bloodlines. So long as they had a son to carry on the family name, they were more than happy with that. His semblance probably isn't hereditary, and it's not used for combat." Weiss said before laughing at her own foolishness. "What am I saying? It doesn't matter really, that's just wishful thinking... It seems I've been doing a lot of it nowadays."

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one." Blake murmured softly.

It had to be the wine, or at the very least nostalgia…

That was the only explanation Weiss had for the lilt in Blake's voice. The doleful tone caressing the air in just the right way. It wasn't the first time she'd heard it. Just like it wasn't the first time she looked into those amber eyes, seeing a wealth of guilty admissions Blake would never speak of. The Faunus had no qualms with admiring a woman's body. There was no sense of shame in drenching herself in desire, no matter the gender of her bedfellow.

Such a thought had been entirely alien to Weiss at the time, but Blake had long since admitted her attraction to the fairer gender.

They had been students back then, hot-blooded, easily distracted by petty arguments. None in the least happened to be about the sexual activities between Yang and Blake. Weiss had been angry then, walking in on the act as she had. Seeing something she never ought to have seen. She had been confused, and more than a little mortified to know that her teammates were enjoying each other in the shared dorm room. The fact that Yang had proceeded to tease Weiss about the idea of sex certainly didn't help matters.

The discomfort Weiss had about the topic made the entire team edgy for a solid week before things settled down. Soon the sexual escapades of her teammates became a non-issue entirely. Yang was decidedly bisexual, and Blake had grown to prefer women over men. It was that simple, and easy to forget about entirely.

At least, it used to be.

There was a time she didn't have a clue of desire. Now, Weiss would have been a halfwit not to understand those wordless sideways glances. Easily interpreting the concealed attraction for what it was. Something precious, and hidden underneath the guise of friendship. Weiss had no idea how long such a gaze had been protected there. Blake had never once acted on it, and it seemed she never would.

"It's getting late." Weiss said, it was the easiest excuse she could make.

"It was late when you called me."

"It's later now."

Blake nodded, her gaze slowly sliding away from the white haired woman and up towards the stars that happily scattered across the sky. It was nothing like the wilds. The view was lackluster compared to the vastness of nature. If only she were away from all of the lights in the kingdom, then she would see the stars the way she liked to see them.

"My point is that I'm in no condition to get behind the wheel, and I won't be for the rest of the night." Weiss went on to say. "I'd rather not trouble the family's driver any more than I already do. I could call for a taxi, or, you could just stay here."

"I don't want to be an imposition." Blake replied.

"Then here's a hint, don't make me call a taxi..."

Weiss groaned quietly as her head ached.

There was nothing worse than a hangover. Especially one that she had no way to excuse or explain away to Klein. Frankly, she was his employer. She didn't owe him anything, and yet she felt as if she might. If only she could go back to sleep and pointedly forget her lapse in judgement. Then perhaps the universe would correct itself.

A soft rumble of purring reached her ears. She hadn't heard that sound in years. It happened so rarely that Weiss usually doubted she heard it at all. She opened her eyes, a sea of black hair cascading down Blake's shoulder. Her ears drooped lazily in her slumber. The Faunus was warm, sleeping peacefully, ignorant of the world around her. The television droned on with repetitive dialogue, replayed the same sitcom they'd fallen asleep watching.

Weiss glared at the coffee table. The sight explained her hangover. A second wine bottle stood half consumed, resting in front of them. The bowl of strawberries Weiss faintly recalled gathering from the kitchen lay empty. The night wasn't quite a blur, but, she desperately searched for clarity as she studied Blake's sleeping face.

Why were they even sitting so close to begin with? What even compelled her to allow that action? They were good friends, yet, that friendship had a limit. A line drawn in the sand out of propriety alone. Somehow, it had been shattered, and strangely enough, Weiss found herself unable to be perturbed by the obvious lack of space between them. It had to be just another poor lapse in judgement, nothing more. She could, and would, blame the wine.

She removed herself from the sofa, pulling the fluffy blanket from its storage space within the nearby footrest. Somehow, she'd completely forgotten to use it last night, although that was likely for the best. They probably would have shared it, and that came with its own uncomfortable implications. Weiss shuttered just thinking about it. Worse yet, she could not decide how that made her feel.

Her trepidation landed deftly in the middle, thinking the notion completely ridiculous.

Try though she might, she couldn't deny her idle curiosity. Her mind wondering what might have transpired between them. Would they have shared the blanket? Would Blake have taken that as an invitation to act on her carefully hidden feelings? Weiss was compelled to wonder. She would never know for sure.

She forced herself to pull away. It was nearly five in the morning. A few hours of rest was all that she would be granted as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. She needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes.

In the end, both women played off the unusual morning. Stranger things had happened to them in the past. Falling asleep on the sofa was hardly a reason to have a moral crisis. They both fumbled their way through breakfast with a butler who seemed far too amused for his own good. Thankfully, he never said a word about what he might have seen. Dutifully, he kept his thoughts to himself.

Weiss only wished she could say the same about her day spent with Coco Adel.

"So, let me get this straight. You popped open not one, but two bottles of wine, and neither one of you did anything?" Coco asked, sympathizing with the way Weiss rubbed at her temple. "And here I thought you'd finally had a night out on the town and gotten laid."

"I don't entertain sexual advances from strangers. I'd like to think I have far better self-control than that." Weiss bit our dryly. "We had a long talk, watched television, and fell asleep." She leaned back in the comfortable leather chair in the conference room that was hers alone. "It was a wonderful evening, and we left it at that."

"Idiot..."

"Watch who you're calling an idiot."

"From the looks of it, you're both idiots. Someone needs a reality check." Coco scoffed, standing and going directly for the coffee machine at the back of the room. She took her time filling a clear heat-proof glass with the dark substance. She pulled out a pain pill from a small case in her pocket. Setting both items in front of Weiss, she gave her friend a knowing look. "If it hurts so much, use your aura. It just takes a little while to burn out a hangover. That's drunken stupor one-o-one."

"Perhaps, but I can't allow it to be that easy." Weiss sighed, conceding the point. She declined both items, refusing the comfort as she sipped on her bottled water instead. Frankly, her aura could have easily neutralized the headache that had formed behind her eyes from drinking. She wouldn't dare think to use it, though. No, she would endure every moment of torture her body put on her as a reminder. She wouldn't be like her mother. She wouldn't make excuses. "I made the made decision to drink like a fish, I'll own up to the consequences."

"You know, a little honesty goes a long way." Coco said as she sat back down. Idly twirling a pen between her thumb and first finger, she regarded her friend knowingly. "Instead of trying to bury everything in wine, you should have just told her she was giving you bedroom eyes."

"We are not talking about this."

"Aw, but why not?" Coco asked, more than happy to watch Weiss roll her eyes in dismay. "We have nothing better to do right now. You're supposed to be entertaining me. Besides, it's far more interesting to hear about my friends once and a while."

"Where is my bloody secretary with that amended contract?" The owner of the dust company muttered, eying the clock as Coco made a point of eying her.

"Right, that's it Weiss. The wine didn't work, so bury the whole thing underneath your workload." Coco said then. "That's real healthy."

"Coco, please, we set up this meeting to discuss business."

"What else is there to discuss?" The ex-huntress looked at Weiss from over the rim of her shades, her sharp gaze piercing through any excuse Weiss might make. The perfect image of cutthroat business icon with a flair for high end fashion. "Now listen, I'm going to sign my name on that contract, and you're going to give me a deal on dust for my clothing. You're not going to screw me over, and I'm not going to make your life a living hell during fashion week. That's all the business we've ever needed to discuss before, and it's all we need to discuss now, so cut the crap."

"Why the sudden interest in my love life?"

"You don't have one." Coco said, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "That's the interest."

"I don't have a special someone, and that's so incredibly interesting?"

"More than you realize." Coco told her as she placed down her pen and looked up at the ticking clock. The iconic snowflake sitting behind the numbers and glass. "Weiss Schnee falling for Blake Belladonna, how scandalous. The tabloids will love this. A lesbian romance, with a Faunus no less. So many people are going to have a conniption, I just hope it's on live television. It'll be good for a laugh."

"Bite your tongue." Weiss hissed unhappily. "I've done nothing to warrant that type of media coverage."

"Not yet, but your day will come." Coco said, watching as Weiss sighed. "Still in denial, huh? Fine, let's look at the facts then. You have and at least one contractual obligation in your imminent future, but you're so distracted by Blake that you come in here with a hangover. You know better than that, especially because you knew I was going to give you hell for it."

"I am not distracted by Blake." Weiss shot back. "And if you know my head's killing me, perhaps you shouldn't try to make it worse."

"What can I say, I've got no qualms about being a total bitch. We all have that one friend that keeps us honest. For you, that's me. I've graciously up taken the task. You can than me later." It was then that Coco gentled, her shoulders slouching forward as she reached for the forgotten coffee cup. She put it back in front of Weiss. "I'm not the one that you used as a makeshift pillow last night, but I am the one that's going to pour this coffee down your throat by force if you don't drink it."

"Must you be so insufferable?"

"You love me this way." Coco said without missing a beat. "Oh, that reminds me, someone should call Ren. The betting pool need to be resurrected, I've got good money riding on you, you know."

"Betting pool?" Weiss asked before it finally clicked. She leaned forward in her chair, glaring at her friend. "Coco Adel, you didn't…"

"I did." She nodded flippantly. "We all did."

If there was anything that could make her head hurt worse, it was that awful tidbit of information. "Why on god's green Remnant would you even think that was a good idea?"

"Team CFVY had two graduation parties. One at the school, which is the one that you went to. Then we had another one off campus. Anyway a few of us got really trashed. Blake was drunk enough to admit she had a thing for you. Next thing we know, Ren's making a betting pool while Nora and Yang try to convince Blake to hit on you." Coco grinned then. "It was a hell of a party, you should have been there."

"My gut tells me to be thankful that I wasn't." Weiss replied squeamishly. "Something tells me Nora would have locked us into a closet."

"It was going to be that love hotel down by the docks, actually."

"Excuse me?"

"Heard it here first."

"Good god." Weiss said, leaning heavily on the conference table. She didn't want to think about it. She forced her mind back into thinking about work. It was the safe topic. The one that always made sense, even when the rest of the world didn't.

There was only one problem. She was still trapped in the conference room with Coco until the contract arrived.

Stacks of paperwork melded together. E-mails blurred into a homogenous list of names. Expense reports seemed to have wandering decimals. Coffee arrived too hot, and lunch was bland. Nothing could go right today no matter how hard she tried to force good fortune into her favor. She was in a bad mood, plain and simple.

She couldn't stop thinking of Blake, couldn't put away the thoughts consuming her slowly from the inside out. If Coco was to be believed, than Blake had harbored feelings for too long. She hadn't harshly criticized Weiss when she left the team. Offering concern instead of ridicule. The Faunus had been a bride's maid at her wedding. She had been nothing short of supportive during the long nine months of pregnancy, and the eventual collapse of a failing marriage. During the publicized divorce, Blake hadn't pointed fingers or taken sides.

Among a world that loudly voiced its opinions, Blake had always been particularly quiet.

Speaking out only when there was an important reason to do so. It's what made her spoken word so powerful, and why Weiss valued that impartial opinion so greatly. Blake had always been that stoic balance between dark justice and redemptive hope. She had a guarded willingness to see the good in people, understanding from an early age that not everyone could be saved. That shared truth was a breath of fresh air among friends who avoided depressing little details as often as possible.

Blake lived alongside her demons. She was well acquainted with them. They were entirely part of her, just like the Faunus ears atop her head. Easy to hide, but so much more captivating on display.

Yet, those exact traits made Blake's silence possible for years. Hiding her ears, or her feelings, it didn't matter. It had to be uncomfortable, and it probably wasn't healthy. Blake still used her bow on occasion, still hid when it suited her. She was a coward that way, willing admitting it more than once. Her feelings were probably the selfsame.

Easier to hide than to face.

Truth be told, Weiss couldn't even figure out how she might respond. If Blake were to come onto her, she had no idea what she would do.