Winter is born into the perfect family, at first glance – Willow and Jacques are great parents, and they have enough funds to last a hundred lifetimes, if they have to. During her infancy and early childhood, she is a hyperactive ball of raw, unrefined energy, bringing much joy to her mother and caretakers alike. Jacques is happy too, on the surface, but realizes the need to raise an heir (heiress in this case) early – as early as five years old, in fact.
And so Winter's "grooming" into the perfect heiress begins. Day by day, her life is filled with lessons from the best tutors their considerable capital can buy. She is taught how to be a Schnee.
To be a Schnee is to be relentless in your pursuit of goals. To be a Schnee is to conduct yourself with proper etiquette under Any circumstance. To be a Schnee is to be above the rest.
Above everything else, to be a Schnee is to strive for perfection, and to reach it.
Her Father is cold in his lessons, but Winter, at that point, does not know any better – she thinks it normal. Her daily routine is borderline maddening, and a lesser person would have likely broken long ago – but Winter takes Jacques' lessons seriously and very close to heart. She learns to bury her emotions and lets logic and reason take over – as a Schnee should do. The new head butler, Klein, makes sure to help here and there.
Her only moments of normalcy during this time are quiet evenings with Willow and Weiss. The first time Winter sees the little screaming ball that is Weiss, she does not understand why it screams – if the ball is a Schnee, why doesn't it act like one? But when this little ball of baby-fat suddenly shuts up, looks at her with crystal-clear blue eyes – just like Father's, she realizes – and spreads her little stubby hands towards Winter? She melts. And when Mother lets her carry her little sister, it really gets to Winter that she, on top of everything, is a big sister now – even if she isn't that big there and then.
Winter enjoys her quiet times with Mother. Willow talks to her, tells her bedtime stories – treats her not as a future heiress, but as a child she is. She tells Winter the stories about Grandpa Nick, how righteous he was, selfless – CEO he may have been, but he was always an old-school knightly Huntsman at heart. All of the stories of his exploits – Winter wants to try her hand at fighting as well. Willow has an old contact – a retired Huntsman, whom she asks to visit and see if her daughter can be trained (after teaching her the very basics Nicholas had as well); Jacques begrudgingly agrees, not yet sure of how much influence he holds within the household. Perhaps even he himself finds some value in combat training, seeing how…ruthless White Fang were becoming in their war against SDC.
To everyone's surprise, Winter is great. Not a natural prodigy, but the very basic swordsmanship forms Willow had shown her? Winter drilled through those relentlessly in the time she had, and for a child with next to now free time (now especially) and very little to work with, she may well become a prodigy born of hard work if she keeps this up. That's what the Huntsman says. Winter is beaming one moment, but remembers to keep her emotions in check. Privately, she thinks that fighting is a whole lot less dull than the endless supply of studying material she goes through every single day.
Having those talks with Mother, or private time with little Weiss, or an excuse to unwind in face of a more physical activity – it's nice. But Winter doesn't miss the heavy sighs her mother occasionally drops after hearing, or talking about Jacques. However, when Willow herself starts interacting with her kids less – well, even a child can realize something's wrong.
She notices things going wrong: her mother looking heartbroken every time she leaves Father's office; Willow starting to have that strange, unpleasant smell around her, starting to act strange; Father growing even more snappish and cold – if it's even possible -, endlessly finding more reasons to reprimand her, going as far as rebuking her for "her foolish hobby, unbecoming of the future heiress"; he had never called it as such before (but then again, Winter had practically forced her tutors to re-negotiate their studying hours to make more time for combat training); Faunus butlers and maids disappearing, only to be swiftly replaced by human ones; increasingly worrying reports of White Fang hostilities against the SDC.
The birth of Whitley promises to bring some modicum of sense back into the family, yet it's a hopeless battle: Winter shoulders a lot of responsibility, especially with the addition of a little brother to look after, but she doesn't know what to do think about her mother's new side, or her father's new side, or the fact that several high-ranking SDC employees she'd met with as part of her heiress training end up missing, then confirmed dead, with the damned white teeth logo left as a calling card.
She doesn't know what to do to fix it, she cannot do anything to fix it – she is only twelve, after all – a gifted, knowledgeable child, for sure, but still just a child. What she does need to do is find some way to suppress this emotional confusion, these sources of pain – both in her mind and body. She finds that reprieve in one thing she has known since early childhood.
Winter flees. Flees from her inner turmoil by throwing herself headfirst into work, into unending business, into a mad dash for perfection, making sure she has no time, no opportunity, no strength left to even start thinking about anything else.
Her tutors are impressed with her newfound drive for studies, as is Jacques; however, that impression turns to scorn as Winter starts spending even more effort on her combat training with now several combat instructors; his "concerns", that, "despite her recent string of successes, she still pays undue attention to her foolish hobby", among other troubling things, are blissfully forgotten as she enters the Schnee Household fighting ring and strives to improve on her hereditary Semblance with practically zealous vigor. Her instructors pick up on it quite easily; one even suggests she take it easy with the training, recognizing it very early as an escape mechanism instead of a way for self-improvement. Per Winter's request, this instructor is quickly fired and replaced with another – an action she will come to regret deeply in her later years. But for now? She must be efficient, swift, perfect.
The only time Winter allows herself to feel anything is in the company of her siblings; emotions are already starting to feel a little bit foreign, but she tries, tries to give Whitley and Weiss the kind of love not even Klein – now assigned to the youngest Schnees primarily – can give. She remembers the way Mother used to give her love and attempts to do the same, but her practices of dulling feelings and Jacques' emotional conditioning make it quite awkward; when Weiss inevitably asks why Mother isn't around as much anymore, or why Father seems so angry all the time, Winter swiftly manages to change topics – for both their sakes. She tries to do the same for Whitley, but just can't seem to establish a proper contact with the younger brother.
It all blows up during Weiss' tenth birthday. Father does not show up and Willow – drunk, yet looking more alive than she had been in years, barges off to find him. Surprisingly, Whitley is the first of them to follow her, despite it being second or third time seeing his own mother in 7 years since his birth. They follow him and, after getting directions from a late-working maid, arrive at their Father's study, where already beginnings of a scandal can be heard from within. They hear everything - including his final admission, the final nail in the coffin for any semblance of healthy normality within the Schnee family.
Their Mother has never been loved, used only as a tool to ascend for Jacques to ascend to the top of the world. As Willow leaves the office, indescribable pain oozing out as tears on her face, she apologizes to them and Winter understands – understands that she and her siblings are tools too – tools to keep Jacques on that metaphorical and literal top.
She resents her father; that is one emotion she allows herself to feel. Winter makes even more space for combat training in her routine – much to extreme displeasure of Father, who is now more open than ever about his intentions; however, before he can do anything drastic, Winter gets a sudden phone call from secretary of General Ironwood himself: apparently, she is offered a place at the prestigious Atlas Academy. She is put up against a first-year student, and, to everyone's surprise but Winter's own, utterly trashes her. Before Jacques can do anything about it, she has already signed all the forms – she is now a future student herself.
(This is where headmaster Ironwood reveals, much to Winter's shock, that it was actually Willow who recommended the General to give her daughter a chance.)
Upon coming back, Winter meets with an absolutely livid Jacques, who is very free in expressing his extreme disappointment in his daughter; Winter stoically endures his tirade and heads for the training room without a word. There, she pushes herself the hardest she had done in years – all to blissfully remove any thought of her snake of a father from her mind.
She comes back to the sight of a crying Weiss in her room. Weiss, from Klein, knows Winter intends to leave soon. Winter comforts her the best she can, promises to stay in contact throughout her stay at the academy, begs Weiss not to cave in under Father's expectations and demands. After that, she asks where Whitley is; her heart drops when Weiss says he has been summoned by Father shortly after his argument with Winter, and hasn't come out since then. She knows Whitley and her haven't really gotten along, and really wants to at least reconcile before she is gone, but if he's with Father, then it's bound to lead to another clash and Winter…Winter doesn't think she can handle that.
With a heavy heart, she asks Weiss to apologize to Whitley on her behalf, then goes looking for Mother. Even if Willow had been a terrible parent for the last decade or so, Winter wishes to say goodbye, and, especially, express her gratitude for contacting General and pretty much booking her a spot on the Academy. She goes to the inner garden, where she knew Mother was most likely to spend her days as of late. She only finds an empty bottle of vodka and a lingering aroma of spirits and perfume.
For the first time in a very long while, Winter allows herself to cry. She cries because she cannot say goodbye to the woman who raised her, because she knows she is putting the same burden that she shouldered for years onto her less experienced sister, because she failed with raising her little brother somewhere along the way, and will likely not ever have a chance to fix it.
When Winter is ready to leave for the hotel she will be staying at until the start of the academic year, Jacques approaches her with a clear sneer on his face, and tells he that, since she is so adamant about abandoning family legacy, the title – and responsibilities – of future heiress now belong to Weiss. Winter is disinherited. She has half a mind to let her emotions go and spit in his face, but she restrains herself.
Winter flees for the second time, this time literally.
Then the academic year rolls around. Winter passes initiation in deathly cold tundras on Solitas, not far from Mantle Walls, and officially enters Atlas Academy. Students around here are either stoic to the point of ridiculousness, focused only on efficiency and achieving their goals, or rich immature snobs with a superiority complex, most of who are in the Academy for the sole purpose of achieving higher status.
Winter is actually a year younger than the majority of applicants-turned-students, so even amidst her new team (who she'd been named leader of) she feels alone. It's so very cold in the Academy – much like home, but without the added warmth of her siblings and Klein. Winter hopes that hard work will keep her warm. It does, because at the end of every day she is too exhausted to feel cold anymore.
About a month in, Winter receives her first letter from Weiss, who details everything that has been going in the household since her departure – Weiss has been fighting with the Father a lot, Whitley has been doing quite the opposite and Mother was as absent as ever. Seeing her sister's perfect handwriting, Winter is brought back to the good old days where she was teaching her siblings calligraphy, where the future of the family did not seen so gloom. She writes back, asking Weiss to figure out what is going on with their little brother, to stay wary of Father's demands and promises to stay in touch.
Second year comes around. All students who have stayed at this point are informed by the Headmaster that, at the end of their 2nd year, they will have a choice of either continuing their Huntsman studies as usual, or become a part of Huntsman Corps – essentially a specialized branch of Atlas Military. Throughout the year Winter, consistently the best student in her class, is obseved by Headmaster Ironwood; at the end, before students get to choose their future career path, she is invited to Headmaster's office. James gives off the air of authority, much like Jacques, but without the maliciousness, the malevolence of the latter.
They talk about everything and nothing, really: Winter's daily routine, her learning habits, relationships with peers and so on. Winter realizes General is sizing her up for something. At the end of their talk the man speaks honestly: Winter is perhaps the best student the Academy has seen in years: her fighting style and record are exceptional, having never lost a single bout throughout two years; but what really sets her apart is her titanic discipline, and working and self-improving habits – something that would be very, very valuable in the military service. Winter could potentially be such a great soldier, that General even promises to bring her under his personal tutelage, should she choose to serve in the Armed Forces.
Winter accepts. When the time comes, she makes her choice, becoming a member of Atlesian Armed Forces. The training regime is harsh, harsher than anything she'd ever indured; General Ironwood is a very different man on the training grounds: cold, harsh, unforgiving, but with enough wisdom seeping through every scold, every reprimand, every advice to understand he's been through all of this himself. But Winter does not falter, and surely enough, their combined efforts bear fruit: Schnee's daughter is, once again, among the best cadets (even if Ironwood personally beats the dangers of overconfidence and arrogance into her head with his metal arm – his own proof of that). Unstoppable in her pursuit, Winter wants to become perfect, no matter the cost.
The cost that is huge: a few months into the training, Winter seems to plateau in her improvements. This has never happened before, and Winter is lost. She tries harder and harder, with varying results - some days are better, others not so much. What's worse, the military routine is so strict, she barely has any time for herself – barely has any time to write back to her family. One day, she receives yet another letter from Weiss, yet this one is different in tone – Weiss asks if Winter is okay, since she hasn't received her last letter.
Letter Winter, too caught up in her routine, had completely forgotten to write. It takes a trained eye to recognize Weiss' desperation in her letter, but it's there – the girl clings to the interactions with her sister as her only way to keep her head above the frozen waters of the Schnee Ocean. And not only has Winter – her lifeboat – left her behind, she is slowly letting her drown.
Guilt crashes into Winter like a Boarbatusk high on Wind Dust. She quickly scribbles down a response, brings it to HQ's post department, then quietly chews at herself the entire night, getting not even an hours of sleep at most. This is the first time Winter has insomnia in, perhaps, ever, and the results during training next day are catastrophically awful, moreso amplified by her straight up trying to rip good performance out of her tired body. At first her high-ranking supervisor is simply disappointed, but as they day goes on and nothing changes, he becomes concerned. He interrupts training and invites her for a little talk.
It quickly goes wrong, as Winter, still "drunk" on insomnia, angry at the lack of progress and filled with guilt, cracks and starts crying - letting loose for the first time in almost two and a half years. In the talk that follows, James Ironwood, guided by the "Four F principle" characteristics, correctly identifies Winter's working and training routines as coping mechanisms and the girl herself as the "fleeing" type.
Once Winter recovers, she is very mortified at having lost her composure like that. General notes that while emotional suppression and distancing are very valuable skills to possess for a soldier, prolonged practice will likely result in a meltdown like hers at best and mental damage at worst. Ironwood considers her temporarily suspended from active training, then schedules counselling sessions with Academy's top psychotherapist; he repeatedly, but gently confronts Winter about her perfectionism and her coping habits. It isn't a fast process, but day by day, Winter thaws out, eventually finally admitting to herself that her workaholism had deep roots in her troubled childhood, and how it had been ruining her, little by little. Her perfectionism is harder to deal with, as Winter genuinely considers it something to be proud of; it takes a while, but with joint effort from both the General and her psychotherapist, she starts re-evaluating her stance on the matter.
After all, "it's the journey that matters the most, not the destination". As cheesy as this line from Ironwood (a rarity) may be, it's sometimes great to take a step back and consider everything you have achieved, instead of blindly going on a path that has no end.
A month of rather intense therapy later, Winter is deemed suitable for service once again. She may still have a stone-cold visage, but inside she Is a whole lot warmer. However, before being able to return to intense training, General Ironwood extends her a token of good will – an official several-day leave. The hidden message is clear, and Winter finally returns to the Schnee mansion, being met by Klein and positively beaming Weiss. The few days Winter has, she spends mostly with her little sister, training and teaching her after finding out she wants to follow in her big sister's footsteps, since Father is still a malevolent prick, Mother is still drinking herself numb and Whitley feigns hospitality and friendliness but his gesticulations and vocal inflections don't leave a shadow of doubt that he wishes to be left alone. Winter's heart breaks just a little at her brother's dismissals, but she complies and backs off.
Finally, on the day of her departure, she is summoned to the office of her Father. He, in his usual snarky, dismissive tone, inquires on her "progress" in the military. Obviously, that very quickly devolves into an argument, where Jacques is first to lose his composure, accusing Winter of bringing Weiss – the future heiress – onto the same "worthless" path as her, as well as stating that "being a common soldier is beneath a Schnee".
Winter, in turn, coolly tells him that he, as a person, is beneath even some of the scummiest, most arrogant students she'd had the displeasure of meeting and that he, fundamentally, failed himself and everyone by not being the perfect CEO or the perfect father, the perfect person; after all, if he were, their war with White Fang – more violent than ever – wouldn't exist, and their family wouldn't be so screwed up.
Winter uses Jacques' lessons against himself, states that he is not and will never be a Schnee, then walks out of his office, not even dignifying his after-rant with so much as a glance back. Internally, she is in turmoil and really wishes to go to the training area and take her mind off what just happened…but resists the temptation.
Having said her goodbyes to those who could – and wanted – to hear them, Winter leaves. She doesn't flee in a hurry, no: she walks out a victor. Out and back into the fray.
Fleeing may have helped Winter discover herself and her own destiny, but she is done doing it.
She does not flee from herself when General Ironwood imposes a downright hellish training regime, to get her back into shape as soon as possible;
Nor does she when she is finally cleared for active duty, but utterly unprepared for the horrors following it.
She does not flee from the reality of the Fall of Beacon (and how it was, in no small part, Atlas' fault), being the pillar to Ironwood – now a close friend and one whom she owed (and still does) absolute loyalty and trust at the same time;
Nor does she when General tells her that the Maidens are real, and that she has been specifically trained ("groomed", she hears Marrow mutter, and she can visualize the frown on his face) to be the next Maiden – to befriend the currently bedridden Winter Maiden and to make sure she is the one to inherit the powers when the current wielder passes away.
(This is her destiny – it's written in her name. She doesn't flee from thinking about Weiss' words: how another girl was offered the same powers, thought it her destiny much the same - and how it all ended.)
But then team RWBYJN(P)R betray Ironwood, Atlas and Mantle are under assault, Penny – in a split second undoing years of preparation – inherits Winter Maiden's "gift" instead, Clover is dead, Ironwood is breaking down...
…and worst of all, Winter and Weiss and now on the opposite sides of this disaster.
Winter is injured, confused, and, to be very honest, scared of James Ironwood, who seems to have decided to sprint through all the lines that shouldn't be crossed.
Suddenly, fleeing once again does not seem like such a bad option anymore.
I apologize if the 2nd part of this chapter, particularly closer to the ending, seems scuffed or lower quality. This took longer than it should have and I really wanted to get it out quickly. Weiss' eventual chapter is probably going to be even worse in that regard.
I have terrible working (writing) ethic, that's all.
tldr - lazy ass cant write
EDIT 2020-11-25 - a few spelling mistakes, repetitions, awkward wordings and a couple of sentences I'd forgotten to fix/write in my hurry to get the chapter out.