A/N: And we're back! Sorry about taking so long to update this. Life has been a little - well, actually more than a little - hectic lately. As mid-terms menacingly creep ever closer, I'm reminded of the fact that I'm taking a class that is way more advanced than anything I've ever done.
But that's neither here, nor there. Chapters for this fic are going to be a bit shorter than all the other stories we've done: think 2 - 3000 range. Anyway, on with the stupid story that was born of a heatstroke!
Winter stood before the massive front doors of the Schnee mansion. Back straight, eyes forward, arms firmly at her sides. Even while on leave, she maintained the posture and gait that the military had drilled into over the years. She was not garbed in her Specialist's uniform, instead, going with a sophisticated yet straightforward white parka over trousers and a simple blouse. Her long, white hair was pulled up into the style that she'd come to like. Still clearly a military woman to any who saw her. However, to herself and her superiors, Specialist Schnee was on vacation.
Glancing down at her scroll, she checked the time for what felt like the hundredth time today. The small display read half-past two. She breathed a sigh of relief, too early for her father to be home. She imagined that he wouldn't be pleased with her presence. And the last thing she wanted was a confrontation with him. He'd made it quite clear at their previous meeting that she was no longer a Schnee in all but name; and as such, not welcome at their home.
That had been almost three years past.
Her worries about running into Jacques all but washed away thoroughly; Winter steeled herself for the other meetings she had in store. Not two seconds after she pressed the doorbell, a friendly and familiar face flashed to life on the screen above.
"Yes? How may I help y-?" the jolly butler's words caught in his throat. "Miss Schnee! Oh, goodness, it's just wonderful to see you."
"Hello, Klein," Winter replied with a curt nod and a tight smile. More emotion than she customarily showed. "May I come in?"
"Why, of course," Klein said gleefully. "I'll get the door for you. Just be a moment."
Winter couldn't help but chuckle to herself as the screen powered down. She had wondered if she would be welcomed. After her harsh ejection from the property last time, she'd expected to be turned away just as fast. But it appeared that Klein thought she had as much right to be here as anyone else.
She just hoped that wouldn't cause him grief with father, later.
The door opened after a few moments, and Klein's jovial, round face appeared. It was utterly astounding how, no matter how old he got, the man didn't seem to age a day. He still sported that bushy auburn mustache, shiny bald head, and that comforting smile. Most would have expected the butler to reach out and pull Winter into a happy hug, given that he had been more of a father to her and the other Schnee children than Jacques. However, he retained his professionalism by merely taking a bow and addressing her.
"Words cannot express how pleased I am at your coming, Miss Schnee."
Winter returned the gesture. "It is good to see you as well, Klein."
"Yes, well, please do come in. It is dreadfully cold out. You'll catch your death."
She smiled and stepped through the entryway. Though, she hadn't noticed the chill, let alone minded it. Atlas soldiers were expected to not only survive in the harsh climate of the kingdom but thrive in it. Most took months to acclimate to it; Winter had almost wholly adjusted to the wind and snow within the first week of basic training. It had served to impress her superiors, proving that she wasn't just a spoiled brat, acting out to anger daddy.
It had also given her peers even more of an excuse to come up with idiotic ice-based nicknames for her.
"I apologize for not calling ahead," she said as Klein took her coat and hung it near the door. "I was in the area and thought I might stop by." A blatant lie if ever there was one. The Schnee home was not a place that one just dropped by. The only way someone ended up there was if they had a reason. And she hadn't called ahead for fear of the call somehow being seen or - gods forbid - answered by her father. Winter had a feeling that the round man understood this.
"Oh, it's no trouble at all. In fact, I quite enjoy getting unexpected guests. It makes the day all the more interesting," he replied with a wink. "Now, what can I do for you?"
"Actually, I was hoping to speak to Weiss, if that is possible?" Since her sister's return to Atlas, Winter had been given scarce chances to contact her. Not even a five-minute scroll call. This vacation granted an opportunity of which she would gladly make use.
"Ah, I thought as much," Klein nodded. "Yes, Miss Weiss is here. Although, I'm not entirely certain she is taking visitors. In fact, I've rarely seen her out of her room in nearly a month."
Ah, yes. There was another reason the two sisters hadn't spoken in a while. Weiss had become more than a little reclusive since the fall of Beacon academy. She had personally fought back the White Fang and the rogue Atlas mechs, along with her team. Still so young, and yet, they all sustained such brutal physical and emotional scars on that day. Winter had cursed herself numerous times for not being there to help in the fierce battle. Not that her presence would have made much of a difference. Not even General Ironwood, Professor Ozpin, and - though she was reluctant to admit it - Qrow Branwen could stop the attack.
"Be that as it may, I would be remiss if I left without at least saying hello."
"Well, in that case, I'll gladly show you to her quarters," Klein's usually light brown eyes shifted to yellow. Winter wasn't sure if it was his semblance or what, but it always was a trait of his that made him that much more likable. "A chat with you might even pull her out of her funk."
Winter was taken down memory lane as he led her through the maze of hallways and corridors of the mansion. All the years she spent in this house flooded back to her; bring with them the good and the bad. Way back, before Whitley and Weiss were even born, she could recall running up and down the halls. She would make believe she was some wild character or another. She would be soldier one day, a huntress the next, or even still a princess in distress the day after that.
On occasion, some of the other wealthy families would come to visit. If they had children her age, then it should have been all the better. However, those were also the times when she was to "act her age," as father put it. Even though she was barely even five years old, she was told to sit quietly and play the part of a lady of refinement. It got even worse when Weiss came around. No longer was she allowed to roam the grounds unattended. She was the eldest child and the heiress to the Schnee Dust Corporation. All of a sudden, there came tutors, private lessons with distinguished professors, and stiffly regimented days.
No more than a month into her eighth year, Whitley Schnee, the first baby with balls, was born. By that time, she was beginning to develop a severe distaste for the life that Jacques wanted for her. By her ninth, Winter saw the mansion for what it indeed was: a prison and her father was the warden.
And now she was back, albeit under more favorable circumstances.
As the two of them rounded another corner, Klein's scroll rang. Upon seeing who was calling, he answered but switched it to an audio-only call. "Master Schnee," he acknowledged, making brief and somewhat nervous eye-contact with Winter. "Yes… Yes, of course. How many guests did you say? Five?" Winter heard Jacques' pretentious and nasally voice on the other end but couldn't make out what he was saying. "Certainly, sir, I shall begin preparation for your arrival at once." And with that, the conversation was ended without so much as a farewell from father.
"Something urgent?"
Klein shook his head. "Nothing world-shattering. But I'm afraid I will have to leave you. No rest for the weary, it seems."
Winter glanced down the hallway. "I'm confident I can find Weiss' room by myself. No need to worry."
With an exasperated sigh, the short butler nodded. "Yes, well, it was a pleasure seeing again, Miss Schnee. It's back to the old grind with me," his eyes once more changed color. They turned red this time, and his voice became gruffer. "Always "Klein, do this" or "Klein, do that." Never even a thank you in return. Really grinds my gears, I tells ya'."
And with that, just as entertainingly as when she arrived, he was gone.
With a slight smile and a chuckle, Winter faced the door and let her knuckles rap across it. All things considered, she was genuinely looking forward to the coming conversation. And if Jacques did find out, she was prepared to face that. After the events of the last few months, Winter didn't think anything could truly phase her.
A/N: "What the f-"
Yeah, that's exactly what I felt like while writing this. How did we get from Adam stabbing Winter, to Winter having a pleasant talk with Klein? Don't worry, I'll explain later. I can't guarantee that it will all make sense, but it will be explained.