A/N: Before I have some of my infamous "rwby rants" I would like to answer Bubble-puff's question about Weiss' quarters. At the camps and in Mountain Glenn, Weiss sleeps in the servants' barracks. Essentially, she sleeps by herself in a bunkroom Adam intends to fill with more humans as he can capture and subjugate. In Mistral, however, there was nowhere for her really to stay, so she slept in his ante chamber, which is like a lobby or receiving room to the private quarters, so separate rooms but part of the same living quarters.
Also, thank you all for the awesome compliments and feedback you all have given me so far. I truly appreciate it. You're the best.
Now, my RWBY rant: I can't stand the 'ship' mentality of most shows that have an ensemble cast. Two people share any screen time? Disregard their ages, race, orientation and personality types and get aboard our ship that we've created a clever name and lots of smutty artwork for. Logic goes out the window and I find it very off putting. And yet, I love Snowbird as a ship. I know that they literally shared 6 minutes of screen time. I know there's a massive age gap. I know their personalities crash. I know logically they'll never end up together, but I love them all the same. Just...promise you won't judge me.
Of all the ships in the Atlas fleet, Winter's was the most versatile. Perhaps not the fastest, or the best armed, but it could handle both low and high-altitude flights, hover, make water landings and takeoffs, and could still fly even when down to one functioning engine. Winter, of course, never had need of any of these functions before, but was grateful for the alighting gear when she learned there were no airstrips in Menagerie.
As expected, the ship was detained. A handful of uniformed faunus Winter could only assume were some kind of coast guard or law enforcement boarded them, led by a woman faunus with rodent like ears and large eyes.
"What cause does an Atlas Military ship have to be within our airspace and landing at our docks?" she half asked, half demanded.
Winter bowed respectfully. "I apologize for the intrusion. I am Atlas Military Specialist Winter Schnee. I'm here to speak to Ghira Belladonna on a personal matter." She spoke in her usual tone of formality that lacked any kind of tenderness.
The squirrel-like woman nodded at her, "Olive Caspari, head of Dock Security." she said firmly, "And what sort of personal matter is that?"
The two women had a short staring contest.
"One I'm only willing to disclose to the Belladonnas," Winter finally said tersely.
"I hope you understand why we can't let you just wander Menagerie freely and speak to our village chieftain. Our island is supposed to be the one place humanity can't encroach upon us." Officer Caspari matched Winter in tone and coldness.
"It was not my intention to encroach and make demands. Like I said before, I'm looking into a personal matter unrelated to the faunus in which I believe Ghira could be of assistance to me."
The officers on board gave each other wary glances, Olive speaking for them. "This is unconventional to say the least. We will inform Chieftain Belladonna of your presence, but insist you remain here on your ship until we have an answer as to whether he will meet with you."
It wasn't ideal, but it was at least hopeful. "I understand fully and hope to hear back from him soon." Winter said coldly to conceal the urgency she felt inside.
"We will arrange for you to be fed and if you need any supplies, we'd be happy to sell them to you." Officer Caspari said as she marched her officers off the boat, leaving Winter with her detail of a pilot and two security officers.
From the windows, the sun arced steadily downward into the west. Winter frequently checked her scroll, hoping desperately for some news. Klein had sent her updates about once a week, but they all said the same thing: no news of Weiss and Jacques refused to look into her disappearance. She'd tried Weiss' scroll to no avail. Winter hated feeling helpless. She was always the apex of self-control, but this was beyond something she could manipulate: something she couldn't control or fix. It made her feel helpless: something she promised herself she'd never allow herself to experience ever again. She had the authority and the transportation to take her wherever she needed to find Weiss, but as she sat on the docks in Menagerie, she never felt more helpless.
As promised, the ship was visited with food twice: once for an afternoon tea and once for dinner. Just as the bottom of the sun touched the horizon, three officers came aboard to discuss refueling the ship. Officer Caspari entered with them.
"Our chieftain has agreed to meet with you exclusively, Atlas Military Specialist Winter Schnee," she pronounced each syllable with disdain. "And by exclusively, I mean only you will be allowed on shore. Your entourage will have to stay behind, as will your weapons."
"That is fair," Winter nodded. "I appreciate you relaying the message for me." It seemed the officer was upset that Ghira was going to allow a human within their borders, and Winter wanted to make as good of an impression as possible. They might have information on the White Fang, and consequently, Blake. Hence, she was doing everything she could to defer to the faunus where she could.
The head of Dock Security was not having it. "If you'll come with me. I'll have to escort you to the detainment facility." She said curtly, hardly waiting for Winter to follower her off the ship.
Atlas had its fair share of faunus, but being the only human made Winter feel out of place. The odd glances merchants and passers by made her acutely aware that she had to represent humanity well. She was a human, an Atlesean and a Schnee. She had to make a good impression.
"I tried making an outbound call, but my scroll had no reception," she said to Olive, trying to create a conversation.
"Since the CCTV tower in Vale fell, our reception only extends to local networks and whatever news comes in on the boats." Olive said over her shoulder. Something about her tone indicated she didn't want to continue conversing. Winter took the hint.
The stronghold that had been converted into a jail or detainment center of some sort was further south. Winter was escorted into the building and placed in what was clearly an interrogation room. Olive offered her a seat, but remained standing herself. She only had to wait about ten minutes for the chieftain to enter. An intimidating figure in both stature and posture, she could tell why he was selected to lead both the White Fang in his youth and the island in his more mature years. Olive bowed respectfully. Winter stood hastily and bowed in the same fashion.
"The Atlas Specialist who wished to speak with you." Olive said as introduction.
"It is not customary for humans to be permitted on the island," Ghira began, his voice deep and authoritative, "but thus far, you've been willing to comply with all of our requests. The daughter of Jacques Schnee must be very desperate if she's seeking the aid of the former high leader of the White Fang."
"I am," Winter said, "I know that my very coming to you may be perceived as insulting, but I seek nothing more than information on someone I am trying to find."
Ghira gestured for them to sit. Winter obliged.
"If you're on some kind of manhunt for some White Fang radical, I'm afraid I can't help you." Ghira said flatly, "I agreed not to disclose the names or locations of any White Fang members when I stepped down five years ago."
"I'm not looking for someone in the White Fang currently," Winter replied. "I'm looking for my sister, Weiss. She has vanished, and the only lead I might have on her is her team-mates from school. One of her teammates was Blake Belladonna, a former member. I noticed your names matched and hoped there was a connection."
Ghira's demeanor became instantly guarded. "You think Blake had something to do with your sister's disappearance?"
"No…not in that sense," Winter tried back-tracking, realizing how accusatory it must have sounded. "I think perhaps Weiss may have run away from our father, and if she were going to reach out to anyone, it would be her teammates."
"And not you?" Ghira raised an eyebrow.
"Weiss communication with me was…restricted. She does not have my scroll number and was only permitted to communicate to me via letter. My father has not reported her missing to the authorities in Atlas, and she didn't even take her weapon with her. As a huntress, I think you can see why this would be a strange and precarious situation for me." Winter was not one to air her family's dirty laundry but if it helped explain her story, she'd lay her whole family history bare.
"I empathize with your plight. Missing family carries an uncertainty that will never let you sleep comfortably, but I fail to see how my daughter can help."
"Blake is your daughter?" Winter was almost relieved. "Please let me speak with her. Let me at least ask her if she's heard anything from Weiss or know where she went," Winter pleaded.
"I was inclined to assist you myself," Ghira said, "But my daughter is a different matter. I don't want her entangled in an affair that is unrelated to her."
"Your daughter and my sister were roommates, Mr. Belladonna. Blake helped change my sister's perception of the faunus, and Weiss fought back-to-back with Blake during the fall of Beacon. They were teammates and friends. Can I at least just ask her if she knows where Weiss might have gone or if she's tried to contact her?"
A tapping emanating from the two-way mirror stole their attention. Ghira sighed in exasperation, his gravelly voice making it sound almost like a growl. "If you will excuse me." He placed his palms on the table and stood, briskly exiting, closing the door behind him a little too forcefully.
Awkward silence ensued as Winter sat and Olive stood refusing to speak or make eye contact, but acutely aware of each other's presence. After five minutes, Ghira returned, followed by a cat faunus about Weiss' age.
Winter stood again and bowed. "Miss Belladonna, I…"
"Please," Blake held up her hand, sitting. "I won't take up much of your time. I don't know where Weiss is, and I don't have any way to contact her. I'm sorry."
"Even if it's just her scroll number, anything would help," Winter said, her voice beginning to lose her veneer of dispassion.
"I don't have my old scroll. I left it behind at Beacon."
Winter's shoulders sagged. "Can you think of anywhere she'd go? Did she say anything about wanting to run away or if she ever planned to leave where'd she go?"
Blake shook her head. "She talked about how Beacon felt more like home than Atlas did, but I doubt anyone would be going back to Beacon for a few years now that it's overrun with grimm."
Another dead end. The white-haired woman slowly sank into her chair, resting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry to have troubled you," she said weakly, "If I may, I'll return to my ship now and stop wasting your time."
To her surprise, Blake reached across the table and placed a hand on her arm, her ears flattening back. "Weiss always talked about you. She said you were the most noble and driven person she'd ever known. When we wrote papers on our heroes, I wrote mine about my dad, Ruby wrote hers about her uncle, but Weiss wrote about you. If anyone can find her it's you. And if any information comes my way, I'll find a way to contact you."
The encouragement was enough. Winter nodded. "I know the CCTV towers are down, but my ship is reachable via radio wave. I'll give you my scroll number but also the frequencies we tune to for private communication."
Pen and paper were provided for her to write everything down. Blake studied it, her face dark with concern, or perhaps guilt. When she had finished, Winter stood.
"I thank you for your assistance, in ways I can't express," she said.
"It's the least I can do," Blake replied, standing as well. "And if…when you find your sister, please tell her…" Blake's catlike yellow eyes began to fill up with tears as she turned away. It only took a moment for her to regain her composure, "Please tell her I'm sorry. For not saying goodbye."
"I will," Winter promised.
Ghira personally escorted Winter to her ship, insisting that she and her detail were given extra food for the journey, for the which the crew as very thankful.
"Any luck?" one of Winter's bodyguards asked once she was aboard the ship.
"Another dead end," she replied. "Looks like we're heading to Patch."
"We're fed and fueled up," the pilot said, "We can be on the island in about fourteen hours if we don't stop for anything."
"Make it so," Winter commanded. She had a terrible feeling her luck would be the same as it was in Mistral and Menagerie, but she at least had to try.
It was late, but Adam was in a foul mood and needed someone to order around to relieve the stress as he stepped off the air transport. Leaving his things on the aircraft, he immediately made his way past Ilia to the 'service' barracks.
"A briefing can wait until the morning," Ilia said as she walked briskly, barely able to keep up with him. "Adam!" she placed a hand on his as he reached for the door of the barracks, her face flushed an odd shade of burgundy with frustration. "You don't have to do anything tonight, it's late."
"I don't care how late it is, I want my things unpacked and an update on the trainees while I was away." He opened the door and had to take a minute to process what he was seeing.
His prize lay on the floor in a crumpled heap, covered in bruises and blood. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and her blood-stained hair draped in front of her face. One of her arms was clearly broken and bent the wrong way.
"Get a healer," Adam said calmly, "And don't tell anyone else what happened, but hurry."
Ilia fought back the urge to vomit and retreated. Two of the women in the camp had a healing semblance of some kind. In under five minutes, Ilia was back with one in tow. Adam had relocated the heiress to her cot, cradling her head onto the pillow and sweeping the hair from her face as she whimpered in pain.
"She has a broken arm and what feels like a broken rib," Adam said, maintaining his composure. "Can you fix it?"
The healer swished her tail and nodded, placing her bare hands against Weiss broken arm. Weiss inhaled sharply and arched her back from the pain, but soon, white pulses of aura began radiating into her arm and then spread throughout her torso.
It felt strange to have aura flowing through her body again. She suddenly felt lighter as her cuts closed and began to heal as the bruises began to fade. Her eye tingled as the swelling reduced in her eye enough to see again. Her vision made out a woman sitting over her.
"Can she sit up?" Adam asked.
The woman helped Weiss sit up, her body slowly adjusting to the aura leaving her body again. Her vision cleared to see both Ilia and Adam present: Ilia sitting cross legged across from her, Adam leaning on the opposite wall. He stood and approached her bedside, dismissing the woman, who Weiss could now see had a horse's tail as she left. Once she had gone and Adam was sure they were alone he turned back to her. "Who did this?"
"I didn't see," Weiss lied.
He leaned down to her eye level. "I'm ordering you to tell me who did this to you."
Weiss remained resolute. "He wore his mask, so I didn't see his face. But even if you find out who, it's only going to make me look bad if he gets punished. Either way, I lose again."
"You're so stubborn," he snorted, returning to his original height. "Your body is probably going to need another day to recover from having all that damage and foreign aura inside you. I won't expect you to wait on me tomorrow, but don't think of this as a mercy. Even livestock needs time to recover." He tossed her blanket to her before leaving, turning the lights off as he shut the door.
Weiss hardly slept through the night. There was no pain, but there was a restlessness that her exhaustion simply couldn't overcome.
She stayed in bed for the entirety of the next day, the same horse faunus coming in to check her. As the sun set, she grew impatient and hungry and made her way to the mess hall to get something to eat. She could feel eyes staring at her while she ate as recruits actively avoided her. Ilia was the only one who approached her as she finished her food.
"Why are you up?" she demanded.
"I'm feeling better," she shrugged.
"Then go see what Adam wants," Ilia ordered. "If your better enough to be out of bed, you're better enough to go back to work.
Weiss considered objecting, but it was a risk of being up and about. If she was well enough to leave her quarters, she was well enough to work. She tried Adam's 'war room' but it was empty. She tried his private chambers and was admitted. He was out of his official uniform and dressed in just his black undershirt and a pair of lounge pants. He'd already removed his metal grimm mask, but he still wore his black liner mask over his eyes.
"Why are you here?" She imagined him squinting at her through the mask as he permitted her entrance.
"I am sufficiently recovered," she said honestly. "When Ilia saw me, she instructed me to check on you, and make sure there wasn't anything you needed."
"The kid told me. Dax the Ax? He spilled everything after nothing more than a stern look," Adam said, getting straight to the point.
"It wasn't his fault," was all she could come up with as a reply.
"I can hardly censure a recruit for wanting to better himself, or making use of the slave labor I've provided," Adam turned his back to the huntress and walked to his night stand where a bottle and glasses were waiting on a tray. "Nor do I want it to seem as if I'm punishing any officer for causing violence against a human. The White Fang is specifically to be a bane to human existence. However, I cannot allow a direct defiance of my orders to go unchecked."
"What will happen to the Lieutenant?" Weiss asked.
"I'll find some way to subtly relocate him so that he can save face. Not everyone here knows. Perhaps I'll send him off to Mistral and let him be Sienna's problem for a while."
"And me?"
He poured himself a glass of bourbon. "Re-pack my bags. I'm taking a scouting crew south toward Vacuo. I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," she mumbled, ambling into the closet.
"Pack things for yourself as well. You're coming with me. It seems I can't leave you alone for a day without you being the cause of some trouble."
"I don't understand how I was causing trouble. I was training one of your men. One who is showing marked improvement." Knowing she was under special protection and wouldn't be killed or maimed emboldened her. Even when he appeared in the closet doorway, he didn't have that air of intimidation he usually displayed around her.
"You're trying to endear yourself to the faunus and it won't work," Adam cautioned.
She threw the clothes into the suitcase with force out of frustration. "Because a faunus somewhere is benefitting from a human? Because it destroys the propaganda you've filled these children's heads with that all humans hate and are prejudiced against the faunus. You don't want them to see that we're not all evil. Not even the Schnees."
The commander leaned with his back against the doorframe. "Jacques Schnee's actions were more detrimental to the faunus than if he had condoned their blatant enslavement and sale. No one would hire us and if we wanted to eat, we had to work for who hired us, no matter how humiliating and mistreated we were. The high society 'philanthropists' of twenty years ago only solidified in the minds of the Atlesean people that menial labor was all we're good for." He let out a short laugh, almost like a bark of frustration as if thinking about it only made him more irritated. "You think you promoted equality? All you did was condemn us to a life entry level work and entry level pay and worst of all, it was dressed up as this benevolent move by the Schnee Dust Company who was gracious enough to hire us when no one else would."
"It was more than what they were getting in Mistral, and on the whole of Solitas." Weiss had gotten used to defending her family and the company she would inherit. "My father paid his faunus employees the same amount as any human in the same position in his company, his finances are a matter of public record. Did you know the Atlesian military wouldn't let faunus enlist until my father began employing them in his company? People like my father allowed the faunus to regain some modicum of their dignity."
HIs mouth fell agape, too shocked by the ridiculousness of her answer to reply. His mouth tried forming words, but it took him a few tries to get it out. "People like your father? People like your father exploited an entire race they knew was already down on its luck. People like your father deliberately ensured faunus were never promoted to positions of authority to keep us from having any kind of advancement of our people. People your father put my people in danger in the name of making money. People like your father think we're animals! People like your father beat us into submission! People like your father did this to an eight-year-old boy!" He reached up with his free hand and pulled the black cloth from his eyes.
His eyes were a piercing blue, at least one was. The other was blood red, with no discernable iris. It took a moment for Weiss to make out the scar, at first thinking it was some kind of symbol. It was a brand like hers, burned into his face, but they weren't symbols, they were letters…
At the sudden realization, she put her hand over her mouth, her eyes immediately filling with tears. Adam looked away, almost embarrassed that he'd lost his composure enough to reveal his face to her. After a moment, she extended her arm and traced the outline the burned letters with her fingers, and to her surprise he let her. He'd touched her before with gloved hands, but this was the first time they'd made physical contact.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." Sorrow, guilt, and anger washed over her as the tears began falling freely. She always imagined herself the heiress of a noble and respectable institution, even if her father had made some questionable business decisions since his ascension to the company head. She'd been raised believing that the faunus were a bitter people who never forgave humanity for the atrocities a thousand years ago and that no amount of bringing them equality and modernizing would ever satisfy them. This was recent. This was an atrocity. And it was directly from the legacy she was once proud to inherit. She rested her hand on his cheek. "You didn't deserve this. No one deserves this."
"I don't need your pity." He gripped her hand and moved it away from his face.
She covered her face and sank to the floor. She'd been so strong until now, keeping her composure, hiding her pain and humiliation, but the events of the past two days and now this overwhelmed her, and her façade shattered. She didn't care if her captor was present; she just couldn't keep it contained any more.
Adam's shadow disappeared from her blurred field of vision, stepping out of the doorway to the closet. When he returned, his mask had been retied and the bourbon in his hand had been replaced with a cloth handkerchief. He extended it to Weiss who shook her head, refusing. Adam exhaled in frustration before kneeling and wrapping and arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet.
"Take this, wipe your face, and go back to the barracks," he ordered, pushing the handkerchief into her hand. "You're a mess, and I'm tired of listening to it."
Weiss dabbed at her eyes. 'I'm sorry," she said again. "I didn't…"
"Just go!" Adam snapped.
The tears immediately came back, but she obeyed, hanging her head and shuffling out of his quarters as quickly as she could, using the handkerchief to hide her face from any faunus she might encounter on her way back.
Adam went back to his bourbon, scowling as he sat in his armchair.
He'd broken her, but for some reason, it just wasn't satisfying.