Chapter 6: Intermission - Winter
Fifteen years ago
It was the door to Weiss' room, oversized in an already monumental manor. Winter knocked twice, and heard her younger sister manage a groggy 'Come in!' after a brief moment. She opened the door, had to do it with one hand as she carried Weiss's breakfast on a plastic tray.
The room was dark, partially thanks to the heavy curtains, but it was also an excessively large space. That was the way Jacques had it built, a place where the queen size bed Weiss had to crawl onto every night looked small, the floor to ceiling arched windows extended so high above them, anyone coming inside felt miniscule. She'd grown used to it, but Weiss? Not only did she always want to sleep in the same room every time, a frankly annoying dependence that made Winter mentally roll her eyes whenever it came up, it was still understandable given how small Weiss must've felt. Tiny, even, at her age Winter had outgrown her in various ways. Their mother, Willow, had commented on it so many times, to the point that wondering if Weiss would always be a little shorter than most almost felt like a reasonable worry. Almost.
So what if she was? So what if her little sister turned out a little smaller, a little thinner? She was still seven for the love of gods, couldn't they just let her be?
Still under the covers, Weiss whined and turned around, hiding under the blanket, "Is it time already?"
Winter walked to the edge of the bed, sat at the front, opposite to Weiss, "Jacques says your voice coach will be here at seven in the morning. It's six, so I made you breakfast."
In a single movement, Weiss sat up and pushed the covers off herself, "Really?" She asked, sparks in her eyes.
Winter nodded and sat the tray down in the bed, "Just the way mom does it."
"Burnt pancakes and chocolate milk!"
The simple way she put it forced a chuckle out of Winter, indeed, there wasn't anything else on the tray other than a plate with suspiciously dark and crispy pancakes, and a cup of chocolate milk from whatever the popular brand was among kids. Could children below age twelve even drink that concoction?
"Mom prefers calling them 'pancake cookies'. You know that."
"Where's mom?" Weiss asked after picking up a 'pancake' with her bare hands, an act that would've earned a horrified gasp from their mother and a stern verbal lesson from their father.
"She's busy. Whitley," Winter lied. At that time mother was asleep either holding or beside a bottle of wine. Weiss didn't need to know that.
"When are we gonna get to see him?" Weiss asked, some food still in her mouth. She was so excited.
"Don't speak with your mouth full. And it's 'going to'. And I don't know."
Weiss wilted at the anser, she was such a kid, Winter almost left then and there. Another, better idea crossed her mind, she hoped her sister wouldn't see the contradiction in it.
"We can go see him." Winter said, deadpan.
Weiss stopped mid bite, "What?" she murmured, spreading crumbs all over the tray.
"We still have about one hour before your lessons. That's plenty of time to go to the nursery."
"Yes!"
"Then finish your breakfast. Chew properly. There's no rush."
Despite Winter's assurance that no, she did not have to cram as much food into her face as humanly possible, Weiss hurried herself, guzzling down her chocolate milk and biting as much of the 'pancakes' as she could. Within a few minutes, they were sneaking through the manor halls, avoiding the servants. Winter held Weiss' hand throughout it, her sister still needed more practice in walking without making a sound, at her age Winter could move across the entire mansion unnoticed all day.
Although, perhaps, that was why Jacques had increased the number of servants and hired some specifically to keep watch. All he'd really done was inflate the number of servants who couldn't catch her. And the challenge taught her a thing or two about advanced stealth and subterfuge. They were still underpaid employees after all, and wouldn't question small lies such as 'father has me running an errand' or 'I am on my way to my private combat lessons'. She'd have to teach some of those to Weiss too.
"Walk like I taught you, sound echoes in these halls. Amplifies." she whispered,
Weiss needed that guidance, she lost focus sometimes, stepped with her heels first instead of the balls of her feet, and ever forgot to do so in the rhythm of the wailing winds that ravaged the towering windows of the halls and threatened to tear glass out of the frames. In such large, void halls what were minimal footsteps could sound like goliaths stomping inside. Thankfully, their journey to the nursery was bereft of interruptions.
It was a warm room, almost too bright, in that the walls were painted entirely in white and it brightened up the place eleven with the least amount of light spilling from the edges of the curtain. The crib was dead center, away from the five seat corner sofa, a light blue one their mother had moved from one of the media rooms. The cabinet and television were likely from different spaces, they didn't seem to be custom-made like much of their paraphernalia usually was.
Weiss stopped beside the crib, looking at their sleeping brother. For a moment she almost extended a hand inside, then stopped. Winter knew she wanted to say something, it was the first time she'd seen him since Whitley was born, he was already three years old.
Still, she knew better than waking him up, at least she was mature enough not to see him as a plaything or a doll. Winter knew that, but it was one of the many excuses Jacques had found to keep her away from him, bringing it up during dinner to browbeat her little sister into submission.
Shows what you know, asshole, she thought, thinking of her father.
Oh, she was well aware that excuses were simply that, excuses. She suspected father didn't want Weiss forming a connection with her brother, nor vice versa, plain and simple. If Weiss proved herself mature enough to be around Whitley, her brother, Jacques would just find another excuse to keep them separated. He was probably thinking of making the boy into an heir, and Weiss just wanted a brother, as she supposed was normal.
As any normal sister might. Wasn't that a thought? Winter wasn't normal in the sense that other fifteen-year old girls in Remnant were likely thinking of cute boys, math homework, or the party next week. Even in the solemn company of her two siblings, Winter could only think of how in three years she'd officially be the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Jacques would likely have her take over by then, it would explain the sudden shift from mere combat tutors and the average Remnant curriculum to more specialized tuition he had her taking. College-level economics, advanced Dust studies. The kind of education no one else in Remnant could buy, not because it was too expensive but because he owned it.
And of course, there were the political games. Bringing Winter to events, as if she was a mere set piece, a show of nobility. It put Winter in the worst of spaces, where Nobles said one thing and meant something else entirely, a conversation could casually go from appreciating the nearest art piece to threats of exposing trade secrets. Behind the false smiles and meaningless chatter Winter knew what the Nobles believed, knew they only saw her as a resource, a well of endless money, or someone to be married off to pump out more heirs in the future. Not a person.
It horrified her, that it could feel like an unstoppable, inescapable future.
Winter made a sign to Weiss, telling her they should leave. Weiss only cocked her head to the side, she hadn't really catched the meaning, or maybe forgot some of the sign language they'd only just studied the other day. Ugh, she's so slow…
Taking her sister's hand, Weiss guided her out, all the way to the balcony that oversaw the inner courtyard. Morning rime covered most of the trees and plants, and it was still early enough that none of it was melted off by the garden servants.
Wordlessly, Winter summoned a Glyph below herself and Weiss, floated the two of them up to the roof, Weiss held onto her tight, no doubt she still feared the height. When they landed, both were careful not to displace any of the tiles when they stepped out of the glyph. The morning sun was so beautiful…
Weiss sat on the roof, "It's so much better up here," she said.
"Yes. I like it too."
Weiss had her knees up to her chest, even though their pajamas were quite thick, she was still cold.
"Why can't we see Whitley more? I can be good, you saw it."
Winter hugged her, "I don't know," she lied.
She cherished the moment, took in every detail. She'd hold on to that memory, forever, at least she'd been thinking so. How many times, when her sister was too young to know better, had she refused to play any of the games with her? They had a playroom, board games, video games, but… Back then Winter had been too absorbed in her own world, and by the time she realized Weiss was in Jacques' sight, it was too late. Her childhood would be spent just like Winter's, studying, learning about noble society, becoming another Schnee face.
Now Winter had very little time left to actually live with her sister, to be family. Only two years to play, get in trouble, get her sister out of trouble, and maybe hope she'd be doing the same for Whitley.
Two years was all she needed to hold on for. The military allowed anyone to sign up as long as they were alive and seventeen. Man or woman, human or faunus, whatever shade of human skin tone, they didn't care who joined. She'd get the training she needed, independence from Jacques, a position of power that both didn't rely on and wouldn't care about her birth name.
It wouldn't grant her as much as being a Huntress would, she wouldn't have the goodwill, the resources, a Huntress would have a better chance of taking custody of Weiss and Whitley, for instance. As long as they had a good enough record, most Huntresses would be better seen than Specialists, at least. But she was already too old to start that path, combat schools started at thirteen years of age and there was none in Atlas, only the military school, which she could still join.
Winter hugged Weiss closer, on the courtyard below some servants were crossing, moving to other areas of the manor. She didn't like seeing them, not because they were appearing near her, no, far from it. She didn't like the reminder that they were not maids or butlers, they were servants, servants of the Schnees. A reason she hated the Schnee name.
She hated how powerless she was to change the Schnee Dust Company even if, in the future, she took it from Jacques. She was no fool, the 'controversial business practices' were slavery, plain and simple, and she despised them almost as much as her entire name. Employees were paid a miserable amount of Lien and they couldn't work anywhere else, Jacques had people in the council making sure the SDC always succeeded, and that its competitors failed.
They were greasing the wheels of fortune.
The problem wasn't who was in charge of the SDC, a new, kinder head of the Noble house wouldn't change anything. The problem was that it even existed at all.
This could also change if she joined the military. Their General, James Ironwood, had risen from student to General. She could do it. It would make her a part of the council. She'd have to fight the rest of it in order to do anything against the SDC but was better than being the SDC.
Two years. She had calculated it before in the solitude of her room, by then Weiss would be nine years old, and by the time her sister hit thirteen Winter would be experienced, high ranking. From there, she could teach her sister, enough so she'd pass any entry test to the three academies, and get as far away from Solitas as she could. It was some comfort.
I hear Mistral is great this time of the year. Maybe Weiss would pick Haven Academy she was older. Maybe not.
Still, Winter would have to leave her little sister behind, there was nothing she could tell herself that would paint around that knowledge.
Was it the right thing to do, she didn't know what would happen to Weiss outside maybe some visits, if Jacques wasn't too petty.
I'm sorry, Weiss. I'm so sorry.
—❖—
Five years ago
Shit. They pick off the easier targets first.
"Get inside!" Winter roared, the crowd of civilians parted around her as they moved to the nearest buildings.
She was outgunned, outnumbered, and, as it turned out, outmaneuvered. The streets were thick with civilians, cars, androids and dust clouds, and it wasn't getting any better. The androids were supposed to be helping, yet with little warning they'd turned on the populace and their strikes were calculated. Were they always capable of this?
Something detonated nearby, a car, the Dust kind of model, so at least it didn't catch fire. Again, Winter screamed at the civilians so they'd get inside, her voice barely cut through the cacophony.
A dust Cloud rose from the end of the street, there was marching inside, red points at head height. Knights, at least twenty of them.
Winter pointed her saber to a car, conjured a glyph that turned it on its side, it was enough to cover some people. It would only delay, but it was better than nothing. A moment later she jumped over it.
The dust cloud settled, and the assault continued, knights shot at the civilians nearest to them, even ignored Winter as she jumped amid them and tore them to pieces. All just to maximize the number of casualties and injuries.
Was it really a malfunction? Why could they even attack civilians in the first place?
General Ironwood wasn't responding, something had to be wrong with the CCTS. He was still traveling between continents, was his aircraft attacked? By who?
The buzzing of vigil drones flying through the air stopped her train of thought. Winter shot them down casually, with manifesting a glyph, then, through the glyph, she summoned a horde of larvae Lancers, the Wasp-like Grimm They were made translucent and ice-like by her Semblance, like crystal sculptures. Still strong enough to take out the floating orb cameras that were vigil drones nonetheless.
More Androids marched, taking her attention, forcing Winter on the offensive, as every second wasted was a second they had to shoot, their systems making them pinpoint accurate.
The effort was taking its toll, Winter's Aura shield was being assaulted, little by little. A scratch here, a close-shave there, some extra effort demanding too much of her body, and like grains of sand in a shrinking hourglass her reserves diminished.
Winter checked around herself. People still panicked, there was still much to be done, and she knew there were thousands of Androids in Mantle alone. If it was just Specialists like herself, the Ace Ops along with the military then maybe it wouldn't be such a problem…
But problems piled on top of problems. People were panicking, many trying to leave the city in cars, it caused traffic congestion, not taking into account the hundreds of panicking citizens per block. Mantle was barely designed to handle day-to-day traffic, a sudden incursion? No one was getting anywhere for the next day, at least.
It put her in a worse position than if the place had been invaded by Grimm. At least Grimm would be herded, distracted. The Androids? They didn't have any form of self-preservation, didn't calculate between surviving or hunting people, it was only efficient killing.
As if her luck couldn't get worse, within the crowds there were some civilians who owned Dust weaponry. Their intentions were good, they were trying to help, to destroy the Androids. But they were also making themselves and the people around them high priority targets. They were the first ones to die, even when Winter intervened.
A Knight was not a threat to a trained Huntsman or Specialists by design, but the average citizen was neither, and even if they had personal firearms, one shot or two wouldn't take down a knight like it did with normal people.
None of them listened when she told them to move out of the way, "Get the fuck inside!" she roared to deaf ears. The next Knight squad marched in, another wave of relentless metal. Another wave pushing back against her, Winter had barely moved out of the same block for minutes now. She could only defend.
There was some saving grace, however. Up in the sky, airships approached Mantle. Reinforcements, not far away.
Only… Only those were android and airship carriers. Not unmanned but definitely filled with Androids.
Smoke billowed out of one's landing zone. It plummeted to the ground, towards Mantle.
Winter let her saber fall to her side.
—❖—
-ing up…
…
…How is she even-
…
…That's unethical, she's a patient…
—❖—
You've grown up so much.
It was her sister's face she was seeing, Winter looked up at the midnight sunset. Her vision was blurry but she was sure of it, It was Weiss. Already an adult.
Panic flowed through her mind when she realized what it implied, then again when she couldn't feel most of her body, not her legs, or any sensation on her skin. She should've been freezing, out in the tundra.
Her vision was blurry, like it couldn't or wouldn't adjust to the environment. She could hear something, a scream? It sounded distant, like it'd happened a field away.
Up in the sky… Penny? With some effort she could see some of the details. Oh, she looked different, longer hair, taller, imposing, from that angle. Fierce.
Weiss? She tried to call out. Her mouth didn't move the way she wanted to, only a prolonged wail left her throat.
Her arm moved on its own, clawed at Weiss. No, stop!
How- what happened to me?
