This chapter, Schneeblings. Also, Penny asks Storm an important question.
When Glacier and the rest of the dragons flew north, Whitley hoped they were heading to the tip of Vale.
When they flew out over the ocean, he hoped they would turn towards northern Anima.
When they kept moving north, he still clung to the thought that maybe, just maybe, their destination was in Mantle.
Now they flew over Atlas itself, the city sparkling like the inside of a geode, cracked open and hovering suspended above the tundra. He could see the manor from here—which meant they would see Glacier. He'd known this was coming, but his heart still sank.
They didn't have much trouble entering Atlesian airspace, which was so strange that it almost distracted Whitley from his imminent return home. Only airships were out patrolling. The Flight Squad was conspicuously absent.
Except, he soon realized, clusters of riders within the academy itself, and even soldiers with rifles around its perimeter. Which... seemed to be where Ragnar was going. They swept straight over the manor, on a collision course for the tower, until Ragnar roared a greeting and landed hard in the courtyard. Glacier half-collapsed beside him. Both were breathing hard, and the ice dragon was wheezing slightly. Whitley patted his chest.
Tempest, meanwhile, didn't seem fazed at all by the several hours they'd just spent in the air, and immediately started sniffing the air. She barked once, and charged off towards a row of barns. Ragnar grumbled something and followed, his tail dragging on the ground.
Glacier... didn't.
"Where are you going now?" Whitley groaned.
Glacier was obviously looking for something. He wandered aimlessly between two buildings, sniffing as he went. Then, apparently already bored, he threw his head back and shrieked. Whitley swore and pressed Rusty's hood down over his ears.
From somewhere on the other side of the campus, there came an answering cry. Glacier's ears perked up tall. His tail wagged so enthusiastically that he knocked over a lamppost. Then he took off at a dead sprint, with Whitley clinging to his back for dear life.
"Glacier!" he shouted. "Glacier, what are you do—"
They turned a corner. And there they were—Winter, one hand on the gun at her hip, her eyes narrowed warily. Weiss, staring at them open-mouthed. A faunus girl behind them he didn't recognize. Steele, an ice dragon that must belong to Weiss, and another completely unfamiliar one that was probably the stranger's.
"Glacier?" Winter blurted. "How did you—" Then, finally, she recognized him. "Whitley!"
Whitley did not want to get down. But Glacier grabbed him by the hood and deposited him in front of his sisters with a self-satisfied bark. Like they'd been playing fetch and he'd just come back from a very long throw.
He folded his arms. "This isn't—"
But before he could get more than a word out, Weiss collided with him so hard he almost lost his feet. "You idiot! Where have you been?"
Whitley squirmed free. "The woods," he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. Weiss followed the motion.
"Wait. Is that...?"
Winter stepped forward before she could finish the question. And, for the second time today, someone was hugging him. She, at least, released him immediately afterward. He inched backwards towards Glacier.
"What happened?" Winter demanded. "We were told you'd escaped weeks ago. Why didn't you contact us?"
"I don't have my scroll." He found he couldn't quite look her in the face, and ended up staring at the new ice dragon instead.
"That's not an exp—" But Glacier chose that moment to butt his head into the conversation. Winter sighed and muttered something under her breath. Weiss reached forward cautiously and stroked the dragon's snout.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. "For keeping him safe."
There were a few choice things Whitley could probably say to that... but he found himself patting Glacier's neck instead. His tail tore up another lamppost.
Winter rolled her eyes in exasperation and said, "Fine, but you're going to give us the full story later."
"Are you hurt?" Weiss added. "I—" Glacier bumped her with his nose, almost knocking her over. "What?" she huffed, and switched to scratching under his chin.
He whistled three notes. Nudged her again.
"I don't know what you're—"
Five more notes. Another nudge.
Weiss' eyes widened. She glanced over her shoulder at Whitley and turned slightly pink. "I don't know about—"
He whined pitifully.
"Ugh, alright! Alright! Stop looking at me like that." She cleared her throat and hummed the same liquid trill that Glacier had spent weeks perfecting. He joined in halfway through, startling her so much she almost missed the final note.
Everyone except Whitley, even the stranger and her dragon, stared at Glacier. He kept whistling cheerfully, stopping occasionally to sniff Winter or Weiss and get another scratch behind the ears.
It was easier to look at the strangers. The faunus, who probably would have been a lot more intimidating if she hadn't been wearing a soft little half-smile. Her bulky earth dragon who was watching them with interest.
And the ice dragon. The young ice dragon his sister already had.
He could look at them, instead. He couldn't ignore Glacier's back paw thumping delightedly against the ground.
So. Many. Smells.
Glacier bumped his nose against the singing one, his eyes fluttering closed. These small ones smelled even more like Jacques.
Three pairs of hands. Scratches and pats. Singing.
He purred and, reluctantly, pulled back. Couldn't get too sleepy, now, not with the strangers there. One faunus, one dragon. He sat up, watching them, but they were both staying at a respectable distance. Good.
There was one other he didn't know. A small one, but a dragon. Glacier sniffed him warily.
"Hello," he said, blinking deep black eyes. "Um... are you my dad?"
Glacier stared at him. "Dad?"
"The riders have them." The small dragon shuffled his paws. "I thought, since you're so big..."
"He's not our dad," Steele cut in.
Glacier flicked his tail. He didn't care if he was a dad or not. "Singing one. Yours?"
The small dragon's ears perked up. "Oh! Yes, Weiss sings!" His tail thumped the ground. "She's very good."
"Glacier." The singing one patted the small dragon's flank. "This is Specter."
Specter smelled good. Like fresh snow.
"You protect."
He sat up, his tail twitching eagerly. "Yes! I always keep her safe."
"Good."
Glacier turned away to greet Steele. They touched noses. "It's good to see you again," Steele told him. "Winter was worried about you both."
He hummed, and bent to investigate the steely one again. She patted him absentmindedly, but mostly she was busy talking to the small Jacques.
"—stop fussing," he snapped. "I'm fine! We were only in danger in the beginning. Then we were just wandering all over Solitas because someone didn't want to go north until now."
Glacier blinked. He suspected he might be someone, so he licked the small Jacques until he spluttered. "Fine, fine! Never mind the fact that we'd have been here weeks ago if you'd just listened to me."
He whined.
"Ugh." The small Jacques scratched his favorite spot, right between his ears. "You're so needy."
"I've never seen him so affectionate before," the Steely one murmured. Glacier licked her, too, and then the Singing one for good measure. They were good—and now he could protect them like he protected the small Jacques.
Well, maybe not quite like that. They could have other dragons, but the small Jacques was his.
Once the initial reunion was over, Blake decided to approach the group. She was curious to finally meet Whitley, after only hearing about him through his kidnapping. She knew he liked to play the piano... but that was about it. Just now he was talking to his sisters, still petting Glacier as the dragon fawned over all three of them.
Then Blake stepped up beside Weiss—and the great head turned. Spines rose all along his neck, and his fathomless eyes fixed on her. He made a noise, like pine trees groaning in a frigid wind.
Weiss jumped in front of her and shoved her, hard enough that Blake almost fell over. In the same instant, Whitley too threw himself between them—but he was glaring at her. All barely-a-hundred pounds of scrawny teenager brought to the defense of a dragon that was bigger than most buildings.
"It's alright, Glacier," Weiss said carefully, and gestured for Blake to keep backing up. She didn't need to be told twice. "She's a friend. She's not going to hurt you."
He hissed again, clearly unconvinced.
Weiss winced. "I'm sorry. He's, um..."
"He bites." Whitley raised his chin defiantly, like he was daring her to argue.
Blake didn't doubt him—she retreated all the way back to an anxious Pit, who hovered over her so that she was looking at Weiss and her family between his forelegs.
She probably shouldn't have been surprised. He and Whitley had been kidnapped by the White Fang, and the gods only knew what had been happening to him at the Schnee manor while Weiss and Winter were away. Still... she hated not knowing if Glacier was being so hostile because he'd been mistreated, or because of her ears.
Another glance at his narrowed eyes and flattened ears... definitely the former. Maybe both.
So Blake watched from an uncomfortable distance—too far to hear everything that was said, and much too far for a human to hear anything, but close enough that she caught snatches of the conversation. They were enough to make her smile. Both sisters' relief was obvious even from her Glacier-approved vantage point, and after everything that had happened, Weiss deserved a good day.
Whitley started to speak, and the words Blake heard made it clear he was telling the story of his kidnapping. "—completely irresponsible!" Winter burst out. "Even if you hadn't—frozen to death!"
Glacier waited.
Weiss made an odd lurching motion and covered her mouth with one hand—trying and failing not to laugh. Her brother folded his arms indignantly. "—not funny! I was twenty feet in the air!"
Glacier's tail flicked.
"—boy with Ragnar?" Weiss asked. Whitley went oddly stiff and said something back that made Winter put a hand over her mouth to hide a smirk.
Glacier waited some more. His hind legs tensed.
Before Blake could call out a warning, the ice dragon pounced—and swept up all three of them off their feet. There were three identical yelps, followed by a curse from Whitley, as Glacier loafed onto his back with them on top of him.
"Glacier, no!" Whitley snapped. "Put us—ouch, Weiss, get your elbow out of my face!"
The dragon's only response was a happy bark. He arched his neck to peer at them, his ears perking straight up. Specter looked at Steele, as if to ask if they were supposed to be doing anything about this.
"Win," Steele said, and bent to lick her face. "Gud?"
"Apart from the knee in my diaphragm," Winter grumbled, "Yes."
That was all the permission Specter needed to join him and Glacier in nuzzling at the three riders. Eventually Weiss managed to squirm free of the tangle of limbs—both human and draconic—and made the mistake of looking at Glacier. She stood up on his stomach and crossed her arms. "Put us down."
He whined.
Weiss put a hand to her face. "Fine. You're worse than Ruby."
Once they stopped trying to escape, Glacier released the siblings and rolled onto his side, his neck and tail coiled into a loose circle. He didn't even need to demand attention, at that point—Whitley knelt by his head with the resigned air of someone who'd done this many times before, while Winter and Weiss approached his neck and stomach a little more cautiously. His eyes started to droop within seconds. Before a minute had passed, he was fast asleep.
The three Schnees stepped carefully over his tail to avoid waking him. They wandered closer to where Blake still stood, helpless to squash her own grin.
Whitley heaved a put-upon sigh, opened his mouth to speak—and squawked in outrage when Weiss grabbed him in another hug. "I thought we were done with this!"
"He's so much happier," she said, beaming. "I'm proud of you."
Her brother froze. Turned an alarming shade of red. Spluttered something even Blake couldn't make out, and fled back to Glacier's side. Winter watched him go, smiling fondly. Then it faded into a frown. "Whitley is good for him. I just hope..."
"I'd rather not hope," Weiss said, scowling. "Especially if we can keep them away from them instead."
"We'll try." Winter glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping Glacier. "That's all we can do. It's ultimately his choice, and..."
"...I know."
"I can't believe you're here!" Ruby threw her arms around Tempest's neck, then Ragnar's, as the third dragon, an ice dragon, trotted off on his own. Storm greeted them, too, and froze when Tempest noticed her wing.
"Um," she said, curling into herself.
Tempest nudged the wing gently with her nose. "I'm sorry, little one."
"I mean, how did you know we'd be in Atlas? And, wait, weren't you at the broodery with York? What about—" Then she cut off abruptly, noticing for the first time the boy sitting on Ragnar's back. "Oh! Uh, hi!"
"Hi?" He gave her a little wave.
"Scarr," Ragnar said, and lifted him off his back.
"What?" Ironwood approached them, staring from Ragnar to the boy and back. "Who is this?"
He hunched his shoulders. "No one, really. I mean, I'm Oscar! But I'm not, um... I just found him."
Ragnar snorted in disapproval. "Scar gud. Nno Scar, no Rraknar."
"Um," Oscar squeaked.
Ironwood chuckled. "Well, regardless." He stepped forward and put a hand on Ragnar's snout. "It's good to see you again, old friend."
Ragnar's ears and tail drooped, even as he nuzzled into the General's touch. "Gud," he agreed. "Want ffight."
Ironwood nodded. "I thought you might. And we certainly won't turn down help against the Council. Especially if..." He trailed off. "Hang on, there was another dragon a moment ago."
"Lace," Tempest said.
The General frowned. Then, slowly, realization dawned. "Glacier is here? How?"
Ragnar shrugged like their riders sometimes did—it looked a little odd from a dragon. Ironwood put a hand to his face. "I see. I'd be willing to bet I know where he went, then... Winter will be able to handle that, for now."
Storm?
"Wait, does that mean Whitley's here too?" Ruby asked. "Because Weiss and Winter were super worried."
Are you alright?
"Ear," Ragnar agreed.
Storm shuffled her paws and pretended not to hear Penny's voice.
"We'll worry about that in a moment," said Ironwood. "Ragnar, where were you? When we didn't hear from you after the fall, we thought..."
I know you can hear me.
"Um." Oscar shuffled his feet. "He sort of crashed in the forest near my farm. His wings were hurt pretty badly, so..."
Finally, Storm couldn't ignore it any longer. She slunk back into the barn, and away from the reunion.
What's wrong? Penny asked.
Nothing!
...You don't want them to build me a body.
No! Storm said quickly, then slumped. I don't want you to go away.
...Oh. Penny hesitated. Well, then I won't. I'll tell my father not to build it.
Storm whined and buried her nose under her paws. Don't do that! You want a body, you should have one.
I don't need one, Penny said, but the words came slow and reluctant.
You can't lie to me, either.
But—
We can still talk when you have your own body, Storm insisted. And then we can play, too, and fight together, and when my wing's healed we can go flying. She put all the force she could muster into her voice—it was twice as hard to convince them both.
Later, after Ruby and Ironwood and Pietro had gotten the whole story from Ragnar and Tempest, and Oscar was looking like he wanted to bolt, Storm approached the inventor. He looked up, startled. "Oh, hello!"
"Hello," Penny said. "I have made a decision!"