Hi, folks! Not dead! 2020 decided to really kick into high gear for me this past month or so and getting writing done was nigh impossible. But here we are, kind of, with another chapter before the end of the year! With any luck life has settled now and I can get back to a more regular posting schedule.
Hope you've all been well! Let's get through the end of this year together!
An old wooden floor polished with varnish yet scuffed by years of moving furniture. A chest, forgotten and neglected, containing only a few articles of clothing and a spare pair of boots. One small table, two beds, one in each corner of the room flanking a wide shuttered window overlooking the plaza below.
Weiss would recognize the room anywhere. So too would she recognize the dark blue linens, the painted grey walls sporting holes from indecisive picture-hanging; she and Ruby had never decided quite where to place the paintings they'd purchased.
How had she come to be back in Vale?
Her first thought had been a fever dream. Lucid, terrifyingly so, but surely just a dream. The linens against her skin told her it was real. The floorboards squeaked underfoot, and the cold wood sent chills from her soles to her head. Parting the curtains, she was not greeted with an ephemeral void but the plaza outside of the Grand Cathedral. Priests milled about, initiates running between lessons. Civilians sat on the edge along benches, their faces indecipherable but their gestures wild and eager. Children mystified by Magi and those surrounded by magic.
Too real to write off as a mere dream. Weiss drew away from the window and looked for any sign of her partner. The bedding was a mess, sheets crumpled and tossed aside, the pillow leaning precariously over the edge. Typical for Ruby. So familiar that it was almost comforting.
This isn't right. This can't be right.
She could vividly recall still their battle in the forest. The Stalkers, the massive plant-like Grimm. They had won, she was certain, but it had been a harrowing battle. They always were. Rarely did they enjoy a solid victory without some cost to themselves. Yang had lost control, Blake had suffered a wound, and Ruby…
"Ruby!" Her voice rang hollow in her ears and danced about the room. Nowhere to be found in their room Weiss rushed to the door, forgoing her boots beside it and throwing it open. Again she expected a void to greet her. Sky blue walls stretched out before her with paintings hung intermittently every few feet, small tables with vases of blooming flowers adding a further splash of color.
"Ruby!" Weiss called again. Her feet slapped against wooden floors.
Where was her partner? If she was back in Vale, then surely so too were Ruby and the others. Weiss' voice echoed through the hall and as she reached the stairwell, skidding to a halt and grabbing the bannister, another striking thought occurred to her.
Where was anyone? No one was leaving their room to see what the commotion was about. No one had been present to welcome her upon waking. Trepidation ran through her as she made her descent, every step creaking beneath her loud as a cannonball striking the hull of a ship. The common room below welcomed her with open arms; it was the only thing to welcome her. Chairs arranged in a semi-circle boxed in a long table of mahogany, golden gilding framing the top. Bookshelves lined the walls, parting now and again to allow an obstinate lantern to jut out from between them, wicks snuffed out as daylight flooded in through windows. Her toes sank into the beige carpeting, addled thoughts rattling inside her head while it swiveled about. A scroll, opened and wet with fresh ink, sat forgotten on top of the table. Chairs by the windows had been turned outward and Weiss cautiously approached them, trembling fingers gripping the top and easing it back. No resistance, no weight. The chairs, much like the rest of the building, were empty.
"What…?"
Surely there was a mistake. Perhaps everyone had been gathered? Yes, that had to be it. Her and her friends' capture had required everyone to be brought together, surely. Although it did not explain everything she rushed across the room and bodily crashed against a swinging door, bursting into a long connection corridor. From the central hall the residential wards sat, and she retraced her steps working backwards, flirting with a hysterical breakdown as she ran. From her peripherals she could see people outside and she stopped, approaching a window and banging her palm against it.
The two initiates continued to talk blissfully unaware.
Weiss knocked again, breath fogging glass as she called out. Their conversation paused and she banged again, waving her hand to get their attention. The boy between them, a freckled lad with gnarly red hair, smiled and nodded his head. The girl with him beamed, strawberry blonde hair bobbing eagerly as the pair took off in a jog away from the cathedral. Away from her.
"Come back!" Weiss shouted, palm striking glass. The pane rattled and she stopped herself short of shattering it, shaking her head. "Why can't they hear me?"
If she could stop for a moment and consider things logically perhaps, she could find an explanation. Instead her legs ferried her on again, crashing against another door and bursting into the main hall of the cathedral.
Empty.
Midday should mean sermons were being held, or at the very least some initiates might be seeking spiritual counsel from the clergy. The only time Weiss ever knew the hall to be empty was the dead of night when the sun had long since retired and the moon too had grown weary of its labors. Pews sat empty both below where she stood and above in the balcony. No one stood upon the stage, the lectern presiding over the empty room like a king without disciples.
Ozpin! He had to be here. He would have some explanation for her. Although doubt already began to erode her hope - everyone else had vanished - Weiss made a beeline for the lifts. No one stood by to halt her progress and after pressing the button she heard chains rattling, the slow churn of pulleys declaring the lift was on its way. Stepping back, she looked around the empty hall again and shivered, hugging herself. Even if she had been captured, especially if she had been captured, someone would be watching her. The fact she had no such sensation either spoke to her keeper's ability to remain hidden or the complete lack of one.
Nobody had tried to stop her thus far. No one even seemed to acknowledge she existed. Am I dead? She looked at her hands and could not see through them. Were ghosts transparent? Did they even exist? Even if she were dead that did not explain the sheer lack of people within the Grand Cathedral. What is going on here?!
The lift arrived, latticed doors sliding open with the faint grind of metal rusted. Weiss stepped forward to hurry inside and froze. She had been completely alone beside the people outside. Completely ignored as though she did not exist.
"Help… Me…"
That a woman would lay inside the lift, sprawled across the floor, and acknowledge Weiss with a plea? The desperate request came again, and Weiss slowly inched towards the lift, just barely large enough to allow her entry with the woman laid out. Unable to see a face through matted blonde hair she knelt and reached out. The woman drew back with a startled yelp, trembling and pressing herself against the back wall. Weiss too fell out of the lift and landed hard on the floor, gritting her teeth as pain shot up from her tailbone.
Okay, not an illusion. Or if it is it's a very thorough one.
"Please… Help…"
"Who are you?" A daft question to ask someone who was clearly rattled. It was only one of many Weiss wanted to ask yet as the woman was now she doubted she would get answers. Instead she crawled forward and reached out again.
The woman flinched at her touch but could pull back no further. She yelped and Weiss cringed, looking around for anyone else.
"Don't hurt… Me…"
"I'm not going to." Weiss shook her head and mustered a smile as she moved closer. "It's okay, I'm…" A friend? "I won't hurt you," she reiterated, holding her hands up. "You're safe with me."
The woman's trembling eased, body relaxing gradually as her shoulders drooped. Groaning tiredly, she shifted and sat, back against the lift. Blonde hair still masked her face. Weiss examined her outfit. A violet gown, pleated, with dark purples fading into a greyish-white at the waist only to darken again. It seemed to shift, sparkling with an ethereal quality that reminded her of the night sky. The material seemed fine too if worn; small holes littered the garment, exposing bits of pale, red flesh inside.
A noblewoman? At least a woman of reasonable bearing. How had she come to be in the lift? Why was she so frightened? Weiss' ears tried to pick out any sounds that might signal Grimm. The lift creaked beneath their shared weight and the woman's strained breathing was interrupted by groans and sighs. Weiss drew a sharp breath of her own and reached out slowly.
"Ma'am? I'm here to help." Or you're here to help me. Gods know at this point. "It's going to be okay now. Please, I need you to answer something for me first, okay?"
The woman's head bobbed then lifted. Blonde hair parted and Weiss saw blue eyes beneath the bangs, wide and frightened. The woman's face, free of blemishes, with pink lips trembling and a small nose, slightly upturned, reddened by blood, stared at Weiss in awe.
"You…"
"Um…?"
"Weiss."
She caught the woman as she lurched forward and nearly fell back again. Weiss watched the woman whimper, then whimpered herself as hands clamped over her biceps. Their hold was strong, startlingly so, and she could feel herself ache as her arms were squeezed.
"Help… Me…"
"I don't… What is going on?"
"Please…"
"I will! I'll help you!" Weiss urged, desperate to calm the woman, and maybe herself. "I need to know what's happening first! Where is everyone? Who did this to you?"
Why am I back in Vale? Where are my friends? Where is Ozpin?
The woman whimpered again and shoved Weiss back, mounting her and pressing her hard to the floor. Weiss pushed back but the woman would not budge. Her legs, trapped beneath the stranger, squirmed and kicked out.
"Weiss! Help. Me!"
"Get off me!" Weiss screamed. The cathedral let her desperation ring out. She pushed again and the woman lifted her before slamming her back against the floor.
"Please… Help me… Help me…"
The woman's eyes trembled and Weiss felt bile rise in her throat, icewater racing through her veins. The whites of the woman's eyes began to turn black. Veins spread from her eyes, irises shifting from blue not unlike her own to a deep, unnerving red. They reminded her of Grimm's. The color of blood.
The color of Yang's.
The lift began to rattle around them. Metal bars creaked and deformed, pushed out and twisted by some unseen force. Weiss slammed against the floor again and she brought her hands up to protect herself, weaving a rune of ice. It shattered uselessly above her.
The woman's face grew paler as a webbing of black veins stretched from her eyes to the corners of her visage, down her neck and into her gown. Dust from the cathedral's ceiling began to pour down, then it began to fill the room, turning the air ashen and blotting out sunlight. Pews exploded and the lift dropped half a foot before the chains caught, swaying precariously in its housing.
"Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me."
Weiss screamed, weaving and failing to conjure another rune. The woman's body shuddered above her and black mist began to pour out around them. The cathedral cried out in protest before it began to collapse, pieces of wood and stone crashing with thunderous groans and shattering the floor. Somewhere high above the bell chimed, its echoing rings slow and oddly hollow.
Around them the lift collapsed inward. Weiss heard the chain rattle violently before a link snapped. Both her and the woman - if she could even be called that anymore - released frightened cries before they began to plummet.
Darkness surrounded them. Somehow, they remained pressed to the floor as they fell. A supernatural glow ensured the woman remained the focal point of Weiss' attention, all else obscured by the growing mist. Wind whistled around them, the cage holding them folding ever inward, the topmost bars almost pressing upon them.
Tears flowed from the woman's eyes even as she slammed Weiss a third time, body shuddering violently and back arching. She lowered herself down and Weiss felt an agonizing pain erupt in her neck, a frightening heat shooting through her entire body.
"Help me. Help me." The woman's pleas grew louder before suddenly going silent. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, Weiss' too, and the woman whimpered before whispering, terror tinged with a flicker of hope.
"Save me."
The lift struck the ground. The woman flew from Weiss' view, screaming as she was swallowed by the void, and Weiss felt weightlessness.
/+/+/+/+/+/
Her lungs almost exploded as she inhaled, her desperate gasp turning into a violent coughing fit. Weiss' chest compressed and she fell sideways, curling up as coughs wracked her body. Caught between wheezing and gasping for air she shook, grasping at her chest and trying, with whatever slivers of sanity she had, to reign in her body's reaction. The heat which had threatened to immolate her had vanished and only a pervasive chill remained. One hand gripped something soft and she drew it close, her eyes clenched shut and face contorted while she buried it in whatever material might provide some comfort.
It took an eternity for her to settle. The woman's fervent cries continued to ring in her ears even as the sound of the crashing lift and collapsing cathedral had faded. Her rattling coughs became choked gasps, then wheezing gulps of air. Terrified to welcome whatever new insanity awaited her, Weiss slowly opened her eyes and half expected to find the woman's tormented face staring back at her.
Instead she was greeted by a pitcher of water at her bedside. She never would have guessed she were in a bed if not for the post immediately to the right of the pitcher and drapes, a deep ocher colored canopy dangling above her. Unfurling her body and groaning as she felt her aching muscles relax she focused on controlling her breathing. In and out, slowly, holding it for a second before releasing it with a loud exhale. Magic required a calm mind to conjure and they had been taught ways to reel back panic during a fight; breathing exercises were but one of many ways. Her knuckles, aching and white from gripping the sheets, slowly regained color as she eased her hold on them.
A mattress soft as a cloud offered no resistance and she sank while shifting, sitting up and holding her head. Sunlight spilled into the room. Orange walls - a variation of orange, not that Weiss had the faintest clue what shade it might be - greeted her warmly. White gilded trim framed each wall and the door at the foot of her bed.
She was in a bed. Weiss felt panic returning and she threw the blankets off, ignoring the bandages wrapped around one leg and planting her feet on the plush carpeted floor. She stood just as the door swung open and on pure reflex, she wove a rune, air swirling at her palm.
"Oh my!" A butler gawked seeing her and immediately closed the door again. She assumed it had been a butler anyways. Blinking owlishly, she kept the rune ready but lowered her hand a few degrees, cleared her throat, and called out.
"You may enter! I am…" She stole a glance at herself. A simple white sleeping gown? "Decent."
The door opened hesitantly and the man behind it was even more careful to enter. Old enough to probably have seen Remnant's creation he shuffled into the room; wrinkled hands held up in deference. He was harmless, surely. White wisps of hair slicked back barely covered a balding head. A suit tailor made for his thin body was certainly decent but hardly the dress of a nobleman; her assumption about a butler appeared to be spot on.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Weiss lifted her hand again and the butler yelped, covering his head with his arms. "This is real, isn't it?"
"I b-beg your pardon?"
"Is this real?"
The absurdity of the question was not lost on her but Weiss needed to know. Just because she could feel the wind from her spell tossing her hair did not mean she was awake. The carpet between her toes meant nothing, nor did the warm kiss of the sun seeping through the windows. Her chest rose and fell and she fought to control both her spell and her mounting panic.
"I… Yes?" Mystified no doubt by the question, the butler stood a little straighter but kept his hands held out. "My lady, please. I mean you no harm! I merely heard you screaming in your sleep and came to check on you!"
My Lady? Weiss edged away from the bed and kept her spell trained on the quivering servant. "Where am I? Who are you?"
"Please, I understand you must be confused, but -"
"Where am I?" Weiss demanded, swallowing hard as her voice broke. "Please. Tell me."
"L-Liar's Bay! You were brought here yesterday and are currently housed as a guest in my lady's home!" The butler lowered his head and held his hands together. "That is all I know, I swear! By Edea's grace do I swear it, my lady. Please don't hurt me!"
That name sounded familiar and it took Weiss' disoriented mind a second to recall why. It was where Qrow had proposed they travel to. Not a name that had bestowed confidence then and certainly not now. A coincidence that she should awake in the very place she had been trying to reach.
Weiss lowered her hand, slightly, and nodded. "And my friends? What of the other girls that were with me? And the man, Qrow?"
"I-In the home as well! My lady has been very gracious with her care, I promise! They have been seen too!"
Okay, so at least if this was another insane hallucination, she could confirm her friends were here. Shaking her head slowly she allowed her spell to dissipate, wiping her trembling hands on her gown in an effort to compose herself. The butler sighed, straightening as best he could and clearing his throat.
"I take it you are well, nightmares notwithstanding?" He gestured warily at Weiss. "You are awake and out of bed."
"I am," she agreed, nodding. "And my friends? I can go see them?"
"A thousand pardons but I cannot answer that." Weiss raised her hand to question the reply and the butler recoiled. "Please, I swear! With Edos as my witness I don't know!"
Flushing at how rattled she'd made the servant Weiss nodded once, lowering her hand and sighing. "But they are here, yes? In this building?"
"Indeed! Some of you required more help than others. There was the young girl, you see. I don't know what ails her, but she is still being seen to be healers." Weiss started for the door and the butler held his hands up again. "Please wait, she is being seen to! We cannot disturb -"
"Where is she being kept? I would like to make sure she's well with my own eyes."
When the butler merely shook his head, Weiss grabbed the doorknob and threw it open. A startled maid down the hall almost dropped her tray when Weiss emerged, clutching it to her chest. Despite her smaller stature she must have inspired fright as the maid paled, stepping back and shaking her head slowly.
"P-Please, I didn't -"
"Miss, please wait!" Wrinkles - because Weiss had no clue what the butler's name was - hurried out and placed himself before her. "Our lady has promised your safety while here. All of you," he added pointedly. "We are here merely to ensure you are well taken care of. Melody here is bringing you breakfast," he explained, gesturing with a trembling hand. "Allow us to help you change into something more fitting and then we'll take you to see our lady at once."
Weiss bit the inside of her cheek, nails digging into her palms. What was stopping her from going off now? Not much, she ventured. If the only people in her way were the butler and maid she doubted she would even need magic to get free.
These people had put her and her friends up though, supposedly. Weiss glanced at herself and noted the bandages around her left arm and leg; they were being seen by healers as well. Whoever 'our lady' referred to was taking a vested interest in their well-being. Was it altruism that drove this mystery woman to do so? Weiss sincerely doubted it but she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever that dream was earlier is not their fault. She took one look at the butler, then the maid, and drew her lips into a thin line. At least not the work of these two. Not unless they are impeccable actors.
She had to admit she was hungry, and as Melody the maid drew closer, she saw sausage links, eggs, a chunk of still steaming bread and fruit gathered on a porcelain plate, a small teapot along with it. Considering she had woken up in a bed of luxury and was being offered a meeting with the lady of the house perhaps she was being a little too brash.
"Very well." Weiss' cheeks flushed as she let her arms loosen at her sides before folding them. "But I expect to see your lady as soon as we're through."
"Of course! Of course!" The butler ushered Melody inside. "Girl, tell our lady that one of our guests has awoken and wishes to speak with her. We will be along shortly."
"Understood!" Melody inched out of the room, took one wide eyed look at Weiss, lifted her skirt a bit and rushed back down the hall, nearly barreling into another servant as she rounded the corner.
"W-Wonderful! Now, if it would please the lady, I can have someone else bring a change of clothing for you?"
"I'll take what I arrived in, thank you," Weiss said brusquely.
"That… Will not be possible. I'm told your garments were thoroughly ruined, I'm afraid. I'm certain my lady has something…" The butler looked her over quickly and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm positive we can find something for you."
Weiss raised an eyebrow but the man said nothing more on the matter, stepping aside and gesturing for her to return to her room. Sighing, she reached out and knocked on the wall, hearing the faint echo answer her call. Nodding to herself she returned to the bedroom, relieved when the butler remained outside.
"Once you are through with your meal please summon me and we can see to your clothing."
"I… Suppose?" Weiss shuffled awkwardly on the spot, wholly unused to someone waiting on her so diligently. She glanced at the tray of food beside her bed, steam rising from the still fresh assortment, and licked her lips. "Thank you, um…"
"Whick, if it pleases the lady." Whick bowed his head as the door began to close. "I shall be outside. Please, enjoy the meal."
Assuming it wasn't poisoned or anything Weiss imagined she would. Waiting until she was well alone, she belted an audible sigh and ran her hands down her face, looking up at the speckled white ceiling with an exasperated stare.
What in the world was going on?
/+/+/+/+/+/
Weiss hated to dress in the garments of nobility. Dresses were always too stiff and constricting. Movement, especially the finer sorts required in combat, were nigh impossible in a rigid dress. They were tight in all the wrong places and the material was excessive. She understood why noblemen and women chose to wear the kinds of attire they did; the fancier the material the greater sign of one's wealth. In what she could only say resembled a dick measuring competition Weiss had seen plenty of aristocrats flaunt what they had on their person, sometimes discreetly but often not. It was a nauseating, childish, and frivolous endeavor that she could never find herself caring for.
In that regard then she was thrilled the servants tasked with preparing her could not find any dress suitable to her figure. The lady of the manor was shorter than Weiss and yet twice as broad, and not that Weiss cared much for color but the dresses the woman owned were garish; near lumescent greens and yellows, seafoam blues that might be pleasant if they weren't greying, and turbulent reds that looked more similar to someone having slit a calf's throat over cloth than dyed it properly.
None of that would fit her, however. Instead they had to go into the servant's own reserves of clothing to find something which would better fit Weiss and what they found, plain though it might be, suited her tastes far better than any dress would.
That did not mean it was perfect.
"Do I really need to wear this?" Weiss grimaced and plucked at the mantle draped across her shoulders.
"You're to meet the lady of the estate and so you will endeavor to look somewhat presentable."
Pulling a face, she plucked at the cloth again and sputtered when the silver chain caught her throat. Helga, the staunch, grumbly maid tasked with seeing her ready and presentable, tugged the mantle back down and slapped her hand away.
"Stop that! We didn't run around all afternoon looking for clothes so you can fuss now."
"It doesn't match the rest of the outfit," Weiss argued weakly.
"So? It's all you would wear! Hells, I've had an easier time dressing the children than you!"
Weiss pursed her lips but thought better of retorting. Instead she adjusted the belt holding her trousers up, frowning at her hodgepodge of an outfit. Where dresses had failed they found her a simple long-sleeved tunic, the same shade of brown as a pine tree's bark and just about as comfortable. White leggings poked out beneath the long garment and a pair of boots slightly too large for her feet completed the ensemble. Wholly unappealing to most, absolutely inexcusable for meeting someone of import, but it was all they could find that both fit her and she would not outright refuse.
Not that she particularly cared to impress whoever was the head of this home. She would express gratitude for being saved but she would not grovel, and she certainly would not allow herself to be dolled up like some plaything. Her obstinance remained even now as she stared down the door leading into the dining hall where her hostess waited, the gentle, subdued sound of chatter coming from within.
There is going to be a catch with this, I just know it. No one goes out of their way to help like this. Certainly not anyone of noble lineage. Tit for tat. Quid pro quo. Being a greedy bastard. Whatever one called it Weiss was prepared to have to repay this kindness with some favor of her own. If she thinks I'm going to marry her son or something.
The doorway opened and a man in an unfamiliar tabard stepped out, took one look at Weiss, raised his eyebrows and snorted.
"A new serving girl? Is she collecting them now?"
"I beg your pardon?" Weiss snapped. She would admit her attire was not particularly fine, and perhaps even homely, but to pass as a servant?
Helga slapped the back of her head and frowned. "Enough out of you!" she snapped, bowing her head and pulling Weiss out of the man's way. "A thousand pardons, sir. Have a gracious day."
"Hm." The guard, as Weiss could not think of what else the man might be, took another look at her and shook his head. "Keep an eye on that one, crone."
Yang must have been rubbing off on her more than she cared to admit as Weiss' first response was to freeze the man's mouth shut. Aside from the obvious issues with assaulting an armed man she very much doubted she could weave a rune before he drew his sword. The way the man carried himself, how polished his chainmail was, beard neatly trimmed, might suggest a man who valued appearances over martial prowess; the scars along the man's jaw and neck showed he'd been involved in at least one harrowing fight. He was alive, and Weiss presumed his opponent was not.
She watched the man stalk off, brushing aside a servant offering to escort him outside. In some way his rude behavior reminded her of home, although she could not think of many city guards who expressed their disdain so openly towards her.
"Rotten prick, that one," Helga grumbled, spitting in the departing man's direction. "Hope he slips on his way out."
Weiss' jaw dropped and she blinked owlishly. "Wow, um… Not a fan, I take it?"
Helga pushed her towards the door and released her, shooing with both hands. Taking it for what it was Weiss entered the dining hall, cringing as the door slammed shut at her back, tunic fluttering. Catching it and smoothing it down she lifted her head and cast a look down the long, narrow table before her.
This must be the lady of the house. Short as Weiss imagined, and certainly well fed, she smiled mysteriously across the table and gestured for Weiss to approach. Hesitating for just a moment the two guards flanking her, a man and woman, stepped forward and each cleared their throats loudly.
"Approach, darling," the woman called, cooing as Weiss took a hesitant step forward. "Good girl. I do hate shouting across the room. Not terribly kind on my throat, you see."
Weiss saw plenty. The paintings of the woman lining the walls to her right and left, some with two young girls in them, some with the woman on her own. No husband, she noted. Each chair made of some dark wood or perhaps stained stood nearly as tall as she did and was lined with a red cushion, and all but two had nothing before them. Weiss circled the table, eyes catching the sparkling crystal chandelier hanging above them.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Her hostess sighed. "Such a chore to install. You would not believe how delicate hanging it was."
"I can imagine," Weiss answered absently, eyes roaming briefly to the woman's guards. Both armed with shortswords, possibly Magi. Their eyes locked onto her, hawks watching their prey, and Weiss let hers roam past them. Two large windows behind the woman revealed nothing but a blue sky outside, the very tops of trees swaying just out of view. "This all seems a bit… Much."
"Oh? And why do you say that?"
The marbled statues standing to either side of the window were certainly excessive. The half-dozen platters of food present despite only the two of them dining was overkill. Weiss reached her chair and hesitantly dropped into it, surprised as she sank down into the cushion. Half of a turkey was already gone, as were a ration of baked potatoes glistening with some kind of buttery crust. Her stomach grumbled and Weiss' cheeks flushed.
"Well, excess is only excess in the eyes of those without," the woman smiled, blonde bobbed hair bouncing as she laughed. "So I can understand how you might see this as a surfeit."
"It's wasteful," Weiss said.
"Ah, I do appreciate honesty, you know. It can be so much more refreshing than the usual placating and empty platitudes I hear all day." Still smiling the woman took her knife and drove it into a drumstick hard enough to strike her plate. "That said, take that tone with me again and I'll have you served as the next supper. Understood, dear?"
Weiss nodded silently, taking her own utensils and looking down at the food with uncertainty.
"Oh relax, it isn't poisoned. Why would I go through the trouble of helping you girls only to poison you?" When Weiss still made no effort to eat the woman sighed, waving her male guard forward. "Eckhard, eat something off the girl's plate so she stops fussing."
Eckhard, looking none too pleased, stepped forward and leaned in, snatching a piece of turkey between his fingers and eating it whole. He did not drop dead, nor did he begin to froth at the mouth, convulse, or any other obvious signs of foul play. Weiss' stomach grumbled but she still refused to indulge, setting her utensils back down and clearing her throat.
"It is rude to refuse your host's hospitality, you know," the woman interrupted. "Eat. I've not troubled myself with you so you can pass out from starvation."
"I'm not hungry."
"And I'm losing my patience. Dear, eat something. We're in for a lengthy discussion and I'm certain you don't want to wait all afternoon for a meal."
Oh lovely. Weiss looked wistfully at the door, sighed, and took her fork back. Skewering a chunk of turkey, she sampled it, pleasantly surprised by the smoky flavor. Rather than devour everything on her plate like her stomach demanded she exhaled, smiling as she hoped a more diplomatic approach might help.
"I didn't catch your name, miss…?"
"Because I did not give it. Although I am a touch disappointed you don't know me."
"I would like to properly thank the woman who is responsible for helping me and my friends." Weiss smiled tightly. "My name is Weiss, and I -"
"Weiss Schnee. Bastard child of the Schnee household, pet of both Archbishop Ozpin and Archbishop Ironwood. Quite a pedigree for a girl with nowhere to call home." Weiss gawked; the wrong response. The woman's smile turned coy and she leaned forward. "Eat. You will properly thank me, I promise you that, but please, enjoy your meal for now." She hummed and dug into a cup of curds. "We will have plenty of time to talk, I promise."
With little recourse but to do as she was told Weiss did just that. The food to the woman's credit was good. Well cooked, not dry, and with enough flavor to be tasteful without being overbearing. She was somewhat shameful to admit more than once she found herself voicing her pleasure at the meal; a few days of cooking whatever they could find left her yearning for something proper. The bread, golden crust with a pillowy inside, wonderfully sopped up gravy melted in her mouth. The turkey too, and the rest - potatoes and an assortment of vegetables - came and went in a blink. After exerting the energy she had in their last battle her body relished the hearty if heavy meal. By the time servants came and retrieved their dishes she felt bloated, satisfied, and just the slightest bit exhausted.
Satisfied, but by no means content. Pleasing as the meal had been Weiss was plenty aware of her company and the impending conversation hanging over her head. Turning down dessert after such a filling meal thankfully did not draw the woman's ire and after glasses of some kind of red wine were delivered, which Weiss politely declined, then forcefully, she nursed a mug of cider instead, nose wrinkling at the sour taste.
It was reassuring to know they had plenty of time to speak but also infuriating. The lady of the house still refused to give her name or so much as acknowledge Weiss outside of glances. Since their meal had finished, she busied herself with her two guards - Eckhard and Eliza - rather than speak with Weiss. After two- or three-minutes Weiss was convinced her time was coming. Fifteen minutes and she was becoming impatient.
Half an hour and two glasses of cider later?
"Ma'am." Weiss slammed down her half-filled glass and frowned, drawing glares from the guards and a bemused smile from her hostess. "Could we speak now?"
"Why? Are you busy? Do you have somewhere to be?"
"I should like to leave with my friends," Weiss said. "Speaking of them, where are they exactly? Your people told me they're being cared for here."
"And they are."
Weiss leaned forward, tilted her head, then held her hands up. "And?"
"And they will continue to be cared for pending your cooperation." A basket of scrolls were removed from the table, the woman's glass of wine refilled. Weiss declined a fresh mug of her own and folded her arms with a huff. "Oh, don't act petulant, it's an ugly look for you, girl."
"My cooperation?" Weiss asked pointedly.
"You're in such a hurry. I would remind you who it is that is holding all the cards here. You do not know where you are, who I am, or precisely where your friends are." The woman sipped her drink, wiping her mouth with a napkin that she tucked away in her high collared gown. "I am a gracious host, Weiss, but do not think I do this for the mere joy of it."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I'm reminding a stubborn child that she should mind her mouth before it costs her."
"If you think I'm going to be cowed into -"
"Your friends are either ill, injured, or on the verge of collapse. You're in an unfamiliar city and unarmed. If you think your magic is going to help you out of this…" Eckhard flashed a dagger in his sleeve; Eliza mirrored his gesture. The woman smiled and folded her hands atop the table. "Make no mistake, Weiss Schnee; I intend to collect on my favors. Or, I could inform the Church where you children have run off to. I may not particularly care for them but I'm certain they would pay well for your return."
Weiss sank back into her chair, breath leaving in a frustrated sigh. She didn't know where they were or who this woman even was. That they had been helped did not mean they were allies; she wagered they were only helped because it would provide the woman leverage.
Because someone just doing good for the sake of good is too much to ask, I suppose? Jaw set, she leveled her eyes on the woman. Why am I not surprised?
"That's a good girl. Now then, I'm certain you would love to see your friends so let's make this quick, shall we?" No one ever does when they start with that, you know, Weiss stewed. Smug, with her position made clear, the woman tipped her glass and smiled. "If you've never been to Liar's Bay before then you're about to become intimately familiar with it."
"Meaning…?"
"There have been some interesting… Developments in the city as of late. Now, I might send some of my people to look into it or leverage another to do so but why burn those favors when I have a willing soul right here before me?"
Willing my foot. Weiss was willing to do plenty in the moment, but none would earn her the woman's good graces. Digging her nails into the belt at her waist Weiss nodded, lips quivering, one eye twitching.
"Exactly," she agreed as her blood boiled. "Tell me how I can help."
One thing I think I've had issue with is expository dumps. Moving forward I'll be attempting to tell ya'll what's happening without a character explicitly saying so every single time. I hope it works out, for your sakes and my own.
Until next chapter take care!