Chapter 2
(Weiss POV)
A recess for lunch breaks the awkward air between my sister and I. The meal brought out is a simple one. In Atlas where the chill is often cruel, eating warm meals is a common practice. Women are provided delicate courses. It's thought that anything too heavy or rich will upset our stomachs. A common misconception, perhaps, but one that is still widely upheld among the kingdom.
While visiting Vale as honored guests, our tastes have been carefully considered. For soup, a fine clear broth has been gently seasoned. We'll take this meal with bread, as always.
Meanwhile, the bowls placed in front of Blake and her family reflect the hearty life which Faunus tend to lead. A bowl of stew is placed in front of Blake and her mother. Chieftain Ghira receives a choice cut of venison with his vegetables served on the side. Wine is served all around. Fruit, cheese, and bread sitting on display between us. Shallow bowls of oil allow for dipping our bread, as is customary in Vale. It's not something we're used to, as those of atlas sop our bread with broth.
While I venture to try a new method placed before me, Winter is traditional as always. She wastes no time ripping a warm yeast roll in half, carefully dunking it into her warm broth.
I cannot hide my smile as my friend sits to join us at the table, receiving the same sort of meal as Blake's father. Yang is a very trusted ally, and Winter's wife. By title, she is the queen's consort. Formerly a Xiao Long, and now a Schnee.
"Still the same as ever, I see." Blake mocks lightly as Yang cuts into her meal unrepentantly. "So, I suppose this is what Weiss means when she claims that you eat like a man."
"I eat like I always have." Yang shrugged, not even hesitating to put a thick hunk of meat into her mouth. "Broth is for sick people and babies cutting teeth. Now this is a meal."
"It is uncommon in Atlas for women to partake such gluttonous behavior." My sister responds to the unasked question lingering among those who have no concept of royal life. "Surely, most would frown upon it. However, Yang is no mere royalty. She was born and raised a knight, and prefers to lend her talents to the kingdom in unconventional ways. She requires a lofty intake of sustenance, and my people know this."
Chieftain Belladonna nods at this, enjoying his own meal as a thought seemingly comes to mind. Something that causes his nostrils to flair and a frown to fall upon his lips as he chews thoughtfully. He sets his knife and fork down with a great sense of authority. It seems as if he's concluded something particularly distinct.
"That of an atlesian highborn wouldn't want for anything, correct?" He asks thoughtfully, his eyes pointed to me.
"Correct." I say quietly, unsure of where his line of thought comes from.
"Yet, you are very slight, Princess Schnee. The answer comes from your diet, yes? Yet, this leads to another question." He observes, reaching for his wine glass. "For all that you receive, I wonder at the knowledge you have for the cultivation of your belongings. I wonder what lengths you go to earn what you have."
Blake warned me of this in one of her letters. Her father thinks me to be spoiled. Perhaps in his eyes, I am.
"I know enough to choose the right people when I require something." I reply simply. "Money is of no object." It isn't a complex matter, it is simply the way of Atlas. "If I have a question regarding a particular topic, I tend to inquire about that too."
"Yet, not a day of hard labor has been spent by you, personally?" He asks it innocently, prying into what I may have done for all my years of life.
A fair point, I suppose.
"No, I was not raised the same way that my sister was." I say softly to him. "My father was an intellectual. With three children, he knew it wouldn't have done any good to poise all of us for the royal throne. Winter had to live a laborious life, gaining the love of the people. Meanwhile, my talents were to be placed elsewhere."
"I see." He speaks, and after another sip of his wine he resumes eating.
"Don't do that, Ghira." Yang says, addressing him so informally that Winter nearly drops her spoon. I can only sigh, having come to expect such brash behavior from Yang. "Don't make judgments on the facts that you don't know anything about. You'd be proven wrong, trust me."
"If you have something to say, then perhaps you should just say it." He replies wagging his fork at her. The very nature of this conversation has made a sharp lurch towards the uncanny. "You know I hate when you beat around the bush."
Terrifyingly enough, Blake doesn't even seemed bothered by her father's uncouth behavior.
"You want to hear it? Fine by me. The late king of Atlas wasn't just a terror to the Faunus, he was a menace to his children, too." Yang speaks out plainly, and in doing so manages once again to tilt the entire world askew. "He was not a stern father, he was a vicious one. Weiss wasn't trained to endure the brutality of combat, yet, he raised his hand to her anyway. He was an ass, plain and simple."
"That's enough, Yang." Winter orders quietly, more than slightly irate that Yang would say such a thing so casually. "You should not speak ill of the dead."
"I'll speak ill of whoever I damn-well please." Yang replies waving a hand so dismissively that I forget Yang is a paragon of raw power. "The man wasn't just an asshole, Ghira. He was threat enough to the Faunus that you should how dangerous he was. That extended down to his own flesh and blood. I would have splattered his brains on the wall myself if Winter had allowed it."
Yang probably would have, too. She certainly has the strength to do it.
"I see." I hear a soft growl, this from the man who sits in front of us. Discontent at the edges of his expression. His eyes slip shut, a low sound come from his throat as he shakes his head. "I apologize that such a loathsome creature burdened your lives and darkened your halls."
"Faunus are the same, aren't they?" Winter asks then. "Prone to aggression and forceful displays upon a mere whim?"
"Among adults attempting to gain authority, certainly." Blake speaks out with a fresh roll in hand. "We have our ways to assert a natural order, and when those are tested there are certainly repercussions. This is never passed down onto children."
Winter takes pause at this. "Why not?"
"It has no reason to be..." Blake shrugs mildly.
"To elaborate on that further, it depends on the Faunus in question. Particularly, it depends on the species they hail from." Chieftain Belladonna continues to explain. "Our inherent instincts protect us and guide us, they also serve to mediate otherwise dangerous situations. As a general rule, Faunus children are not inclined to disobey their parents. It is only towards maturity that they may seek to usurp the balance of power."
"Is that so?" My sister asks. "Which is why yours has suddenly decided to... usurp that balance, as it were?"
"Quite." The chieftain responds. "As would be expect of any Faunus prepared to take a mate."
"Faunus offspring never make trouble for themselves?" Winter pressed further then.
"Certainly, they do." Kali Belladonna speaks. "When they are young, Faunus are driven to curiosities just like any other child. While direct disobedience isn't common, they will still get into the usual troubles that any child might. They're still children, requiring the guidance to navigate the boundaries of this world."
"As we get older, we're likely to fight among ourselves." Blake says, her bowl emptied and set off to the side. "Adolescents may not be ready to take a mate, but the drive will surely be there. Depending on the Faunus, our bodies can sometimes be more robust than that of a human. Take my father, for example. He's a male Faunus of the feline variety. He's built to command supremacy."
"And what, pray tell, does that say about you?" Winter asks her.
That is such a pressing question, when one comes to think of it. More pressing because Winter herself asks it.
Winter has seen plenty of bloodshed, she is by no means a normal woman of noble birth. She's traditional, so long as the tradition suits her. She's revolutionary, as long as that revolution stands on its own merits. Obvious to anyone with half a brain and a keen eye for change. Her tastes in friends are somewhat eclectic. Her views on what makes a born leader such a person is not defined by the archives of history.
Surely, we sit across from Faunus today because Winter has crossed blades with their kind. Yet, it begs many questions, none the less.
Blake dabs at her lips, one eyebrow raised as she carefully considers the question. Her napkin graces the table and the soft clink of china indicates the way she gently pushes her bowl out of the way.
"I would think it says many things, Queen Schnee." Blake tells her. "Many, and not all of them favorable. Least, not to a human's perception. In fact, I think what it doesn't say is of utmost importance."
"I'd bid you to elaborate of that…"
"I'd bid you to consider that my answers are not ones that you'd so simply accept." Blake shot back. "Think, if you would, on your own image. A woman of your station, brandishing a sword in the days of war. Wasn't that rather barbarous too? Surely many of your kind upturned their noses at the mere thought. How is that any different than the way humans look down their noses at me?"
Such a dangerous play for Blake to make. Saying something like that... It was completely and entirely unwise. Atlesian royalty of lesser virtue would have likely cut out her tongue, but Winter smirks at her regardless.
As our meal concludes, I feel even more unsettled.
Was that a victory, or a loss?
Knowing Winter, it could have been either...
