A/N: Thank y'all for the positive feedback so far. I'm glad you like it.

Also, oh my goodness, I spelled vengeance wrong! Seriously? I taught High School English for three years and didn't catch it and I'm terribly embarrassed. Thank you for pointing it out, Ax, I appreciated it.

I also was rereading the first chapter and saw where I spelled it 'winder' instead of window. Ermegerd, Erdem's cermin' threw thur winder!

At first, it was all one solid color. As the haze began to clear, the images around her began to focus and sounds became more distinct. Weiss realized she'd been unconscious, but unsure for how long. Her mind still in a fog, she tried standing only to find her legs were asleep and even the slightest movements brought the needle-like pains of blood flow returning. Everything was so confusing. Where was she? It took her a few moments to recollect her thoughts.

She'd been kidnapped by the White Fang.

Sentenced to a life of servitude.

Collared.

Branded.

Her hand instinctively reached for her back, feeling the raised surface of the brand; a scar that had permanently marked her flesh as the property of an organization. So, it hadn't all been just a nightmare. The memories began coming back with greater clarity. She'd ridden with Ilia on the transport and had made some headway, she'd hoped. But after a few hours of travel, the hovercraft had stopped and the supplies moved from ground transport to air, no doubt to cross the ocean into Anima. At that point, Adam had decided that their newest maidservant had better start earning her keep. She was worked, unloading and loading all of the cargo light enough for her to carry, and being sent on errands and tasks that kept her on her feet all day long. She wasn't averse to work, she'd worked hard to become an accomplished huntress and had endured pain and loss because of it, but this type of servitude was different. It was thankless, tiresome, and never gave her any sense of accomplishment.

The worst was serving meals. Weiss was placed in charge of serving any of the officers, Adam excluded. Clearly, she wasn't good enough yet to earn the privilege of serving him his food. Carrying trays of food, having to stand at attention while they sat and ate and having to cater to their every whim however ridiculous was wearisome, but Weiss complied as much as she could with a good attitude for the weeks they moved southward in Mistral.

She was biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to either escape or alert the authorities to her presence. The more comfortable the faunus grew with the idea they had broken her, the more likely she'd be able to get out.

After two weeks of using ground transport, the supplies were running low, but as no one was showing concern, she assumed it was because they were close to the White Fang's centralized headquarters. It was then someone had decided Weiss would be a liability if she knew the general location of the White Fang's hideout and slipped a sedative in her food rations.

She took it slow, carefully flexing her toes in her boots and stretching, staying quiet and taking in her surroundings until she felt confident she could stand. She was definitely in the cargo hold of an Atlas ship, though not a military issued vessel, it looked more like a leisure transport vessel used to ferry civilians. That made more sense; it would have been easier to steal. The ship wasn't moving, and didn't have that slight shifting feel when hovering, meaning they must have landed already. She began wandering among the crates looking for a door. Perhaps if she wasn't being supervised…

No such luck.

The bay door on the cargo hold hissed open as the hydraulics lowered a ramp to meet the waiting soldiers. Most of them were faces she didn't recognize from the camp.

"Looks like Adam wasn't bluffing," one laughed when he saw Weiss still clinging to a supply crate for stability. "He did bring a trophy home. Want to offload her first?"

"She's coming with me," Adam's voice boomed behind him. Everything about him contrasted with the faunus around him. His black attire and preference to wear his mask even in the comfort of his own territory starkly contrasted against the other faunus who wore no masks and seemed far more relaxed. The others genuflected, allowing Adam to retrieve his 'cargo' first.

Like he had in the tunnels, he forced her to walk a few steps in front of him, leading her away from the main entrance to a more private one. "As a servant of the White Fang, you will not speak unless spoken to." was the only command he'd given to her before they reached the guard.

"This isn't the gate for prisoners," the guard said, more out of confusion than demanding adherence to protocol. He knew Adam to well to try and contradict him.

"She's not a prisoner. She's property." Adam countered.

"Does High Leader Sienna know?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"Sienna Khan is not the only faunus, nor is she the only voice of the White Fang." Adam said sternly, barely adding intensity into his voice. "I can assure you, the collar has rendered the princess here completely harmless and she has no weapons on her. If you'd like I can strip search her here."

Forgetting herself, Weiss whipped around to look at him, her eyes indignant.

"How dare…" the sentence couldn't even finish before a gloved hand struck her in the face.

Weiss took a deep breath blinking back tears more of embarrassment than pain. She'd been slapped in public before, and it always was so much worse than just the pain of being struck, it was the humiliation of being physically imposed upon and forced into submission. Nevertheless, she stayed quiet.

The guard watching the scene gingerly stepped aside as Adam pushed his captive forward into the compound. It had been some kind of imperial palace before, probably some feudal warlord of Mistral, but the building had been long abandoned before the White Fang found it and converted it to their base of operations. They passed areas that were clearly designed as barracks as well as rooms for public use such as dojos and an armory.

Adam's living quarters were larger and more accommodating than the barracks but that stood as no surprise. He was a division head, there had to be some perks that came with holding rank.

"You will clean yourself up eat while I finish the offloading of supplies. I will send food for you and a change of clothes. I intend to present you as a gift to Sienna Khan this evening when she returns. Again, whether that's delivering you alive or just your head as a trophy is up to you. A guard will be posted and if you so much as try the handle on the door, they won't hesitate to punish you in whatever way they see fit."

It was only after a few seconds of odd silence, Weiss realized he was waiting for an answer. "Yes…sir." she finally said.

"You're learning," he smiled, satisfied. He exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Weiss was anxious, she felt dirty, and looked forward to the prospect of a bath but refused to do so until after her new clothes had arrived. But above all else, she was tired. The black out from the drugs wasn't a restful sleep, and the last few weeks she'd been on her feet during all hours of the day, Adam's way of making sure she got the full 'servitude' experience. It only took a moment of closing her eyes before she was asleep, curled up at the foot of Adam's bed.

"If you'll just follow me," a maid curtseyed.

"I'll wait here," Winter said, letting General Ironwood be escorted into Jacques' office. Previously, she'd promised she'd never return to the Schnee Estate as long as she lived, but with Weiss home, she had a reason to visit. Weiss had been through hell at the fall of Beacon, she decided she could swallow her pride and come back just for a day. So, when she heard Ironwood was arranging a meeting with her father, she asked to come along.

She waited at attention refusing all offers to sit or take coffee in the lounge. She knew if she waited long enough, eventually either Klein or Weiss herself would come by and they'd be able to talk. But she didn't want to venture into the house any further. To Winter, the Manor wasn't home, it was a compound: a prison with exquisite décor.

Time wore on. From the far hallway, she could clearly hear Ironwood's voice getting louder and more frustrated and her father's tones rising to match. They'd gotten into heated arguments before over the dust embargo. Now, Atlas was officially closing its borders and the business mogul was sure to be livid. Winter began pacing the foyer to pass the time. As she passed the credenza, she noticed the mail, organized into trays to be delivered. One tray only had two letters in it both addressed to Weiss: one from her team captain, Ruby, and the other the letter she'd written her sister weeks ago, yet here it sat, unopened.

"The servants told me you'd come for a visit," a voice said behind her, "but I had to see it for myself to believe. How are you doing, sister?"

"Since when have you cared?" she asked, rounding on her brother. "In fact, since when has father allowed you to speak to me? I thought I was essentially disowned."

Whitley shrugged. "Father has never outright refused to let us contact you. He's just strongly discouraged it, and we both know what happens when father is disappointed in us."

Winter seized the letter and held it up. "Then why hasn't Weiss even opened my letter yet?

"I'm sure she will when she gets back," Whitley said nonchalantly.

"And when will that be?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, do you know where she went?"

"No. We don't really talk."

Winter's suspicions began to grow. "And how long has she been gone? I sent this letter two weeks ago."

"A few weeks, I think. Like I said, she usually stayed in her room anyway, so we never talked much."

It took every ounce of self-control not to slap the smug grin of Whitley's smug little face. Winter closed her eyes and breathed deep to regain her composure. "How do you not know where your sister is, Whitley?"

"To be fair, you don't know where she is, either."

"Miss Winter!" Klein's voice echoed from the top of the stairs as the stout man ambled down the grand staircase.

Whitley gave his sister one more smirk before excusing himself. "I'll let father know you stopped by without saying hello," he said, waving dismissively as he turned to leave, pacing with his hands behind his back. As much as he was her brother and a teenager, Winter had a hard time not hating her brother. He was just so infuriatingly like Jacques.

"Klein," Winter forced a smile as she accepted the servant's open arms for a hug.

"I wondered if I'd ever get to see you again once you left home," he said, just before a violent sneezing fit. "It's so good to see you again. Shall I have a room prepared for you?" He said in a cheery tone when he'd finally recovered.

"Oh, no, Klein," Winter said, resuming her more serious demeanor, "I only accompanied General Ironwood here because I was hoping to see my sister, but Whitley says she's gone. She tells you everything, do you know where she went?"

The manservant's face darkened immediately. "None of the servants are sure, really. Miss Weiss and her father have had quite a falling out recently." Klein briefly relayed the events of the charity concert. "From that point forward, Weiss wasn't allowed off the manor grounds. The media and any other interested parties have been told she was sent away to one of the summer homes to convalesce due to her still being affected by the events at Beacon. He even made her relinquish her rights to the company. Then, about three weeks ago, she went missing." As he spoke, he gradually guided the eldest Schnee out of sight into a corner, his voice lowering with each sentence.

"Missing how?" Winter asked in hushed tones to match his.

"We don't know. It was at night. The guards found an air duct open and Weiss gone. A search of the grounds turned up nothing."

"You think she's run away?"

"No," Klein said frankly, "Not without saying goodbye, and certainly not without Mytenaster. It's still in its case. I think something more nefarious is afoot but none of us has much to go on."

Weiss looked back at the mail trays. "If she has taken off, her friends might know where she is," she mused as she took the other letter. "This isn't much, but it's at least somewhere to start."

"Please find her, Miss Winter," Klein pled.

A door down the hall slammed and heavy steps echoed down the tiled hallway. General Ironwood appeared, a scowl on his face of both anger and disappointment. With just a look, Winter knew it was time to leave and to not ask questions.

"I know she was fond of you. I promise I'll find something." Winter whispered. She reached out and embraced Klein one final time. "I'll bring her home."

"Thank you." Klein said, letting a tear fall down his cheek.

With the letter in her hand, she followed Ironwood out to the waiting car. She'd been home for the first time in at least three years and she hadn't even seen either of her parents.

The ride back to the base was awkward. General Ironwood sat opposite Winter with a brooding look on his face, not making eye contact, but clearly bottling up a multitude of things he wanted to say. The fall of Beacon had a devastating effect on him, too. He looked older and haggard, the streaks of gray in his hair taking over the black. His face unshaven, and his gaze heavy, he looked so worn down. He had to answer to the council for his own tech turning on the people of Vale and bore the blame of bringing the doubt and apprehension by bringing such a large force to the Vytal Festival: the same doubt and apprehension that turned to fear and horror when the grimm attacked.

"I take it my father didn't respond well to Atlas closing its borders." Winter finally said, hoping he'd open up and get some of his demons off his chest.

"He blames me," Ironwood replied shortly. "He says closed borders are going to destroy the economy of Atlas, but I'm not the only member of the council who voted for it."

"He's only saying that because his profits are getting cut," Winter assured him. "My father is good at disguising his selfishness as objective concern. He's also facing the grim reality that a war is coming and he won't be able to cash in on it."

The general didn't reply. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"You….you were there at the fundraiser for Vale a few weeks ago, right? The concert and auction sponsored by the SDC."

Ironwood slit his eyes open. Winter never asked questions about home, and certainly never asked questions about the dust company.

"I was. It was just another excuse for rich people to drink and talk."

"Klein told me my sister, Weiss, made a bit of a scene."

"Ah," he understood now, "Yes. Your sister's outburst did put a bit of a damper on the rest of the evening, though her performance at the concert was magnificent. Jacques was none too pleased, but she was right. The upper crust just sits around and throws money at things without understanding the reality of what true loss is. I don't blame her for blowing up like that."

"But my father, he didn't take it well?"

Ironwood shook his head. "Not at all. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of that ballroom before she could embarrass him any further." Ironwood looked down. "I was actually hoping that entire affair would have been enough to convince her to enroll in Atlas. If she's half the woman, you are, she'd be an asset to the military. Why? did she tell you about what happened?"

"No. I didn't get to see her at all."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"General, she's missing," Winter's impenetrable persona finally cracked. "She's been gone for weeks, and no one knows where she is or what has happened to her, and my family is acting like nothing has happened at all."

James was at a loss for words. "I…Jacques said nothing about this," he finally managed. "Perhaps they were advised by the police not to advertise that she's missing. The last thing they'd want is to generate false leads."

"I need to find her." Winter said.

"I'd be more than happy to give you access to whatever resources that we have, and whatever leave time you need, so long as you come back when called. And you will be called. Atlas may very well be on the brink of war."

"I understand," Winter nodded.

The driver braked and pulled up to one of Atlas' research facilities.

"You're not going back to HQ?" Winter asked.

"No, I have a meeting with Dr. Gepetto. If you need anything, security clearance, anything, give me a call. I'll make sure it's given to you." He pulled the handle and stepped out of the car. "I sincerely hope you find her, Winter. Best of luck." With that, the door closed and the car kept moving.

Winter was lucky enough to have private quarters all to herself as a specialist. On her bed, she laid out all the letters Weiss had sent her at beacon, as well as the one she'd received just after returning home. She was able to extrapolate basic information: her teammates names, Ruby Rose, and Yang Xiao Long, sisters from Signal Academy, currently residing on Patch, and Blake Belladonna, faunus and former White Fang member. She opened Ruby's letter, hoping to gain some insightful information.

Yang was still in Patch convalescing from her injury.

Ruby had joined some other students from Beacon and were heading to Mistral on foot.

Blake had vanished entirely.

It wasn't much, but she had somewhere to start. Using her security clearance, Yang's address was conveniently on file. Ironwood had shipped her an Atlas prosthetic and hence she was in the system. The name Belladonna also pinged: on a watch list as potential terrorists. Ghira Belladonna was the former head of the White Fang now residing as the chieftain of Menagerie. Even if the last name was a coincidence, he might know Blake from his White Fang days and set her in the right direction.

Three leads, three different continents. Where to start?

Logically, the closest would have been south of Mistral, but Ruby was travelling, meaning there was a possibility Winter would miss her or waste precious time in seeking her out. But the easiest continent to get to was Anima via Argus, and she could leave on a ship within the hour if she wanted. From there she could continue south to Menagerie and hit Patch on the way home.

One of them had to have a clue as to where she was.