TW: Suicide
She groaned, rubbing her temples, her head pounding, her throat parched. Dust damn it, that red always did this. Willow leaned back in her chair, the plush cushion soft against her neck. She lowered her hands, opening her eyes, looking out the window.
Snow was falling gently, coating the topiary like sugar. She reached over to the coffee table next to her chair, grabbing her glass and snake head vase. She felt her stomach grumble as she poured herself a drink; Grunhilda should be here soon with her breakfast. She set the vase down on the table, turning back to her gardens. She sipped from her glass; the red tart and yet bitter.
She heard the door squeak open and she raised a hand.
"Set it next to the vase," she said. She heard the door close. She turned in her seat, looking behind her. Weiss was standing at the entrance, looking at the floor, rubbing her wrists. Willow cocked her head to the side. "Weiss? Did you need something?" Weiss walked forward, her eyes on the floor.
"I haven't seen you in a while, Mother. I wanted to visit."
"I see." She turned back to the gardens. "I know it must be rather boring, but come, take a seat." She sipped from her glass as Weiss came over, sitting in the plush chair on the other side of the coffee table. Willow looked down at her drink, moving the glass around gently, watching the red wine move with the motion. "What kind do you like?"
"Hm?" Willow looked over at her daughter.
"Wine, honey. What kind?" Weiss rubbed her wrist, looking at the vase before answering.
"Red," she said. Willow smiled.
"At least I got something right with you." She set her drink on the table, leaning down and grabbing a second glass. She poured a small amount into it before handing it to Weiss, grabbing her own glass again. "Might be a bit stronger then what you usually drink." She said. Weiss eyed the wine for a moment before taking a sip. She grimaced as she swallowed, and set the glass back down on the table. "Too bitter?"
"A bit. I like my reds a little sweeter." She said. Willow chuckled.
"You might be a woman now, but you still have a young girls palete." She looked back out the window. "Give it time, Weiss. You'll learn to love the bitterness like I have."
She glanced back as the door opened. An older woman hurried in, carrying a tray. She set it down on the table between their glasses, bowed, and hurried off. Willow felt her mouth water as she looked at the food on the tray; smoked meats, sharp cheeses, and fresh fruit, a jug of icy water as well. She reached for a slice of bauchspeck before stopping, looking over at Weiss. Weiss was looking at the food longingly.
"Do you want any?" she asked. Weiss looked up at her, the hungry look in her eye disappearing. Weiss shook her head.
"No, no, I'm… I already ate," she said. Willow thought she heard Weiss' stomach grumble. She grabbed another glass, and filled it with water. She set her wine next to the tray of food, drinking from her water. The winds were picking up, the snow falling harder, covering her plants like a blanket. She looked down at the ice in her drink.
"How have you been feeling?" Willow asked. She heard Weiss shift in her chair, and looked over at her. Weiss was looking over at the wall, a hand on her wrist.
"I'm doing okay, mother."
"You sure? " Weiss didn't answer. Willow squinted as she looked at Weiss' wrist, did… did her sleeves have red stains? Willow sighed, taking another sip. "Did you enjoy your time at Beacon?" she asked.
"It was nice."
"It's been a long time since I've been to Vale." She offered Weiss a smile. "I'd like to see it again someday." Weiss looked back at her. "You, me, your brother." Willow smiled as she thought of the forests in Vale; at the multitude of colors when autumn came. "I think it would be fun."
"And Father?" Weiss asked. Willow frowned.
"Why would he be there." She leaned back in her chair. "Maybe we can get Winter to come with us. While she's on shore leave." She sighed. "I think it would be nice, to have you all together again." She looked out the window, at the winter winds blowing. "I haven't seen Winter in so long."
"You… you miss her?" Weiss asked. Willow looked over at her.
"Of course I miss her. She's my daughter." She set her glass down on the table, sighing. "I know I haven't always been the best mother to you three. I know I've failed, and made a lot of mistakes." She looked over at the glass of red wine. "I know why Winter doesn't talk to me." She looked back at her daughter, a stab of guilt in her heart as she looked at the scar on her eye. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you three."
Weiss' eyes watered, and she turned away to wipe at them. Willow laughed a little.
"You don't have to hide your tears from me," she said.
"I'm sorry, mother."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for." Willow said. Weiss sniffed, and got up from her seat. Willow's expression fell as she watched her daughter leave. The door clicked shut behind Weiss. She turned back in her seat, staring out at her snow covered gardens. She reached for an orange wedge, savoring the juice as it popped in her mouth as she bit into it. She swallowed, and looked at the table, at the two glasses.
She grabbed the glass of water, and took a drink from it.
He hummed to himself as he ran his finger over the spines of the books. So many to choose from, so little time. He perked up as he heard the library door open. He smiled as Weiss entered, closing and leaning against the door.
"Good afternoon, sister. What brings you down here?" he asked.
"Just checking in, seeing what my little brother was doing." He smiled; it felt nice being called 'brother'. He looked over at the table next to the couch, at the chess board there. He looked back at Weiss.
"Would you care to play a game, dear sister? It has been such a long time since I've had a worthy opponent." Weiss looked over at the chess board.
"I'm a little rusty," she said.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said.
He set the board, taking the black pieces for himself. He sat on the couch, patting the spot next to him. Weiss sat down, her hands in her lap. He motioned towards the board.
"Age before beauty, sister." Weiss looked at the board, a finger going to her chin. She moved a pawn forward. Whitley smirked, plotting out his moves. He moved a piece. "Do you know what I love about games like this?" he asked. Weiss moved another piece.
"The thinking part?" Whitley moved his next piece.
"That's a part of it for sure." Weiss moved the piece he expected her to move. He hid his smile. His knight leapt forth, claiming Weiss' piece. Weiss frowned. "But it's more than just that." Weiss thought for a moment before moving a new pawn onto the field. Just as he expected. "Outthinking, outwitting you opponent is fun for sure." He claimed another of her pieces. "But I like to view games like this as being a bit like life." Weiss frowned, going on the offensive. So predictable. "Everyone has a part to play." Another piece claimed. "You have the unwitting pawns, willing to die for something grander then them." Another piece. "Perhaps they had been fooled into thinking their lives had meaning under this cause, or just forced into it." A growl of annoyance from Weiss as she studied the board.
"Your knights and bishops, our Hunters and members of the Fayths. Striving to keep civility and order in the chaos of this world, backing the pawns in whatever new goal they fling themselves into." He allowed himself to smirk as Weiss took the bait, claiming one of his sacrificial units. "They allow themselves to think that they have control over themselves, that their noble goals and causes are their own, that they are different from the mindless drones that pawns are."
Weiss whipped her queen out, claiming one of his knights. He cocked an eyebrow; that was unexpected. No matter.
"Have I told you what my favorite piece is?" he asked. Weiss shook her head, moving her queen. "I know many are fond of the queen, and for good reason." He moved a piece. "She's one of the most versatile members on the board, and so powerful." Weiss moved her queen. "But despite that, she's not that much different from any of the other pieces." He moved his next piece. "She's just another servant for a greater power." Whitley narrowed his eyes as Weiss moved her queen into the spot he wanted. "My favorite is the king." He moved into checkmate, smirking. "For without him, there would be no cause worth dying for, and there would be no game."
Whitley rested his hands in his lap, smirking at Weiss. Weiss sighed, annoyed.
"That was fun, Weiss. You had some new tricks up your sleeve. I think you might be able to beat me one of these days." He set the chess board back to its original position. "Do you want to play again?"
"No thank you," Weiss said. Whitley pouted slightly; Weiss was always his favorite opponent. Weiss got from the seat, going to the door. Whitley waved at her as she opened the door.
"I look forward to our next match." He said. Weiss looked away, and shut the door.
The kitchen was bustling, cooks and the other butlers and maids running around as they prepped dinner. Klein set his knife to the side, his eyes burning from chopping so many onions. He turned around, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He smiled at Weiss, looking up at her.
"Snowflake, what are you doing here?" he asked. Weiss had her arms behind her back.
"I just wanted to visit, see how dinner was coming." He motioned over to the cooks as they simmered the gravy.
"It'll be ready in a bit." He smiled at her. "It's schnitzel and red cabbage; your favorite." Weiss smiled before embracing him. He patted her on the back.
"Thank you, Klein." Weiss said. "You're always so thoughtful." She broke the hug, her arms going behind her back. She smiled at him again. "I'll leave you be, you're awfully busy," she said. He nodded, turning back to his onions, hearing Weiss as she walked away. He cocked his head to the side, frowning. Where did his knife go?
Weiss opened the door to her room, closing her door and setting the knife on her nightstand. She could see Mirror from the corner of her eye as she went to one of her bookshelves, pulling a notebook free and ripping out a page.
"Weiss," Mirror said. Weiss went to her table, picking up a pen. She could hear Mirror tapping against the glass. "Weiss!" Weiss felt her eyes water as she began to write, her vision blurring, tears dripping onto the note. "Weiss! Stop!"
She rose from the table, leaving the note and the pen. She went to the nightstand. She stared down at the knife, and sniffed.
"Weiss, don't do this." She felt her hands tremble as she raised them, pulling her tiara free. She set it down next to the knife, shaking her hair out. Mirror started to pound on the glass. "Weiss! I was wrong! I was wrong! People love you! Mother, she… she can help us! Whitley can help us! Yang is back in Vale, we can go to her!"
Weiss picked up the knife, wiping the onion juice from it with her sleeve. The blade shook in her unsteady hands, she closed her eyes, the tears running down. Mirror's pounding grew louder, more frantic as she placed the shaking blade over her heart. She took a deep breath, and exhaled. She shook her head.
"That's right, Weiss, you don't have to do this. Think about how much it would hurt them. How much it would hurt Blake, if she-"
Weiss gasped, her eyes shooting open as she stabbed the blade into her stomach. She dropped to her knees, gasping in pain, feeling blood start to soak into her dress. She ignored Mirror's screams as she plunged the knife deeper, groaning in pain, the blood running down her legs. Her breathing was growing ragged, pain her only sensation.
She yanked the blade free with a cry, blood gushing out. She could hardly breathe, her body growing cold, her skin clammy as she trembled. Her soul screamed, begging to let her aura stop her. Weiss' vision darkened; she coughed, a copper taste filling her mouth as she slumped over. She felt parts of her body twitch as she lay on the cold floor, blood pooling around her. She saw Mirror screaming, crying, frantically beating at the glass. She coughed again, blood drooling down her chin.
i… i hope… i hope i see you again… in my next life
Willow made her way through the house, glancing around at the furnishings; it had been some time since she had been down this way. She stopped in front of Weiss' door, hesitating before gently knocking on it. No answer. She frowned, and knocked a little harder. No answer. She grabbed the door handle, opening it slightly.
"Weiss? Weiss, are yo-"
Willow's eyes widened, her lip quivering as she fell to her knees, the door swinging open. A wail ripped from her lips as Weiss stared at her with glazed over eyes.