Weiss had been down to the kitchen on other nights and, as told, found it empty each time her restlessness guided her path. Tonight, though, she had never tried to sleep, intentionally setting out earlier in the hopes of finding a person in particular. She stood, leaning against the wall outside the kitchen door, listening. The water turned on, metal scraped against metal, then water pounded it, a pause, and finally the pot was set upon the other dishes to start drying. As Weiss exhaled, she felt her face settle, softening into a more personable expression without a thought.

Cinder turned, investigating the singular sensation of being watched, and froze in surprise to find that there was someone in the doorway with a hand stretched behind her to hush the closing door. A moment for recognition to settle in as the door finished closing was all it took for a smile to spread over Cinder's face and her hands to reach for a towel.

Weiss stepped forward. "Hello." she spoke softly, as if a natural volume at this time in the evening would sound an alarm to rouse the whole house.

"Good Evening." replied Cinder. Her tone was less tentative, easily forgetting the dishes, but she only took three steps, enough to get around the island.

A reticence settled between them. Both paused, recalling their previous encounter and hoping for the same but unsure what the other would accept. Weiss's hesitation broke the impasse the other seemed unwilling to risk. The dishwasher lowered her gaze, without fixing upon anything in particular, and grasped the bottom of her dress as she bent her knees.

"Ms. Schnee. How may I be of assistance?" asked Cinder, taking up the formality in the absence of anything different from her visitor.

Weiss stood up straighter, but did not let her disappointment show. "Cinder, was it?" she asked, unsure of how to return to the recalled informality. The name still felt odd, despite how many nights she had sought out the other girl.

"Yes ma'am." said Cinder, now standing once more but supplying a slight bow of her head with her answer.

Weiss paused, but her hesitation was brief. She attempted to return to the natural smile which had vanished when named formally. "Please, call me Weiss here. I came hoping to see you again." She could see the demeanour of the other girl soften, even hints of the first smile reappearing on her face. Weiss returned it in kind, her own shoulders rounding to a more relaxed state.

Still, Cinder waited as though Weiss had yet to formally end her turn. Weiss lifted an arm, not high, with a motion toward Cinder, but quickly let it fall to her side and leaned back slightly. Uncertainty filled her being and shone through every small movement and delay. So desperately did she want to regain the feeling from the first meeting, but fear of ruining it held her back. Perhaps not being satisfied with the one memory was a mistake. Despite all of this, something had driven her to come back, not just this once but multiple times. Something familiar and yet altogether distant.

"Would you care to eat an apple with me?" Weiss finally asked.

To her relief Cinder gave a small bounce as pivoted on a foot, turning toward the fridge. "Certainly!" she replied, a smile evident in her voice. She had a hand upon the fridge handle before Weiss could take a step.

She stopped behind Cinder just in time to catch an apple tossed over the slightly older girl's shoulder. A sound of surprise escaped her, followed by a terse laugh. Cinder closed the door of the fridge as she turned around, then walked past Weiss pausing only to glance over her shoulder to ensure Weiss would follow. Weiss turned the apple over in her hand noting that it was neither yellow nor red but a mix of both, reminiscent of a sunrise, as her feet slowly moved to follow. Cinder slid herself up on the counter of the island, as it had already been cleared off, the action repeated with little delay by Weiss.

"The prettiest ones are the sweetest." explained Cinder, ripping a large bite from hers.

Weiss raised an eyebrow, looking over the imperfections once more with skepticism. The words seemed to be more of a generalisation referring to one type of apple than a rule. She cared not for being rude, and a sweet apple did seem more appealing this night than a crisp, tart one. Settling in, the only sound between them was that of chewing; Weiss tried to take comfort in it and felt compelled to say something but lacked any inspiration. Watching Cinder, she got the impression it was only her that felt the silence was lacking.

Cinder was the first to finish, not savouring each bite and carefully drinking in the sweat juice as Weiss was prone to do. She slid off the countertop and tossed what remained of her core, little more than the seeds, in the bin then washed her hands. Cinder had moved back to rinsing dishes by the time Weiss was done with her apple; it was pitched into the garbage only after a pause to consider how much more remained on her core, and a few more scrapes of it against her teeth.

"I am glad that you have gotten caught up." stated Weiss as she stood beside and slightly behind Cinder, waiting for a pause to rinse her hands.

"Yep. Just in time to start preparing for the next party." replied Cinder, a lift in her voice indicating amusement. She took a step back from the still-running water, hands held aloft and twisted to avoid dripping, with smile for Weiss.

"I know." said Weiss, stepping forward. She pictured an expression of surprise from Cinder. "In just a few nights I will start preparing as well. Extra evening lessons just for the gala."

Weiss stepped back, Cinder sliding into place in front of the sink, and Weiss in turn strode behind her to stand by her other side where the hand-towel had been left. Cinder placed a pot atop the pile, which was stared at by Weiss until the next was nearly done before picking it up with the towel and starting to dry it. Cinder glanced over, eyes just a little wider, but kept it brief and finished the pan. The sound of water stopped when the pan was placed on the pile, attracting Weiss's attention. Cinder met her gaze with a grin of amusement and reached toward the pot.

"That might work for drying, but I'm not a perfect washer." began Cinder, slipping her hands into the towel over Weiss's.

Weiss released the dish and pulled her hands back as Cinder took it, surprised at the touch. The hands had felt rough, but as she watched Cinder use the towel to chip off a missed particle of food and wipe it away she realised they had not felt rough but merely dry, her hands dotted by the small cuts one would normally not need to worry about for a few more months.

"See?" asked Cinder, holding the pot to display it. "The soap and hot water already made them clean, but they need to look the part too." she explained, handing it back to Weiss.

Weiss examined the pot carefully before setting it down farther along the counter, separate from the still-drying ones. Cinder had already moved on to rinsing the next when Weiss reached for the pan. Pockmarked with glances at each other, the two continued to work in line quietly to the tune of running water and stacking metal. Getting close to overtaking Cinder when utensils came up, Weiss reached for a long carving knife as Cinder shifted to place it on the mat. They both felt it, the blade going through resistance directly after their hands brushed and missed each other. It fell to the mat, both girls drawing their hands close to themselves.

"Are you okay?" Weiss asked quickly, her right hand holding the wrist of her left from reaching out as she quickly voiced her concern.

"Yes, it – it wasn't my hand." replied Cinder, slowly turning around. Her hands reached for Weiss's. "My hand was on the flat side, not the sharpened one. Let me see yours." she said with concern. Weiss let her hands be drawn apart as Cinder took them, eyes scanning both as her adroit fingers turned them over, leaving Weiss to watch as each line of her hands was followed and discounted.

"It didn't cut me." Weiss said, her words halting and soft with doubt. Her own attention turned toward Cinder's hands, as she attempted to pull away but was held in place. With slight twists of her wrists she led Cinder's hands to turn, seeing small abrasions where the dry skin had cracked but nothing from a knife.

Confusion began to settle over Weiss, doubt that perhaps it had been her hand; certainly the feeling was not imagined if they both noticed it. The feel of Cinder's tight grasp, and light fingertip touches became distracting; she noticed that those hands were soft, under the dry and cracked exterior. It was a strange feeling and Weiss's every fiber wanted to pull away yet she held back the impulse, some feeling she couldn't quite put to words acting as a quiet whisper to let it be for a moment.

"I have aura, everyone does, but mine's unlocked, the thing hunters use." began Weiss, her rush injuring her usually stiffly structured sentences. "Perhaps it was me and that's what we both felt." she suggested, then paused for a brief moment, looking to Cinder for recognition as her tongue played with the odd feeling left by the contractions of which it just now took note.

Cinder remained focused on Weiss's hands, her eyes tracing the lines and creases. It felt foreign, to have this contact, to have someone so fixated on any part of her and not offering instruction. Surely the servant girl would have satisfied herself with her first look, but perhaps she had never before seen an aura heal a cut. A bead of water from Cinder's hands fell across the back of Weiss's but neither seemed to have noticed.

"Once aura is unlocked, and given circumstances in which one has not exhausted the ability, minor injuries are absorbed by it before they reach the user. Surprise can sometimes allow something to get through, but if a hunter is harmed it is usually from a stronger attack which is why evasion and parrying are still important in training." recited Weiss.

The niggling familiarity of this closeness, Weiss decided, was similar to how it felt when the multitude of dance partners would clasp her hands but unclouded by the list of duties that went along with that. Cinder finally released Weiss's hands, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to the sink with a mumble of apology. Weiss took a moment to examine the hand as well, tracing the ghost of Cinder's touch before picking up the towel. They continued, but the silence now felt heavier. Both took more care with adding to and taking from the wet pile, watching the other's movements and reaching far more slowly.

"What do you like most to do when not working?" asked Weiss, not looking up from the cutting board she was towelling off. She felt that she may have asked it last time, but was at a loss for any other ideas with which to break the reverie.

"hmm?" Cinder's head quickly turned to her companion, "Oh, I - um - I like books, reading, and do quite a bit of mending and alterations." she answered. A dull thud came from the sink as a bowl slid from her fingers under the water. "to clothing."

"What type of books?"

"I read a lot of magazines, but sometimes a history-based novel or such catches my attention." Cinder elaborated, her words less jumbled and the slight colour of her face fading back to normal. "What about you?"

"I . . . mostly just work on my lessons even after my tutors are gone. I do have a fondness for the history sections that cover specific battles and delve into the people involved."

"Do you have a favourite era?"

"Well," Weiss thought about it for a moment as she traded a dry spatula for a serving spoon. "if I had to choose, probably the nomadic groups that carried information, customs, and had great influence on the settlements and how they were run. They did a lot for causing outcroppings to work on serious fortifications instead of hoping they could just swing tools at grimm and be fine - not all grimm fell with that and settlements in turn fell frequently." She thought for a moment, a comfortable silence threatening to settle in, "However, there is not much on record about the pre-war era so much of it is speculation or childrens' tales."

Cinder barked a short laugh, "Of course. How unfortunate that those with power knew how to control information and the people. 'History is written by the victors' after all, or at least erased. It seems the winners of the war learned well from their predecessors."

"hmm?" Weiss turned, leaning her side against the counter as she stopped. "What do you mean?" she asked, getting the impression that there was something more there, something worth exploring.

"About history, or about the winners of the war?"

"The second one. Or both."

"I suppose one answer includes the other." began Cinder, drying her hands on her skirt as she too took a break. "As the oppressed majority demanded the freedom of individuality and asserted their will of a relaxed law, they took up arms against the rulers, follow?"

Weiss nodded, too busy trying to predict where this was going to respond properly.

"When they won, they were free to write their own texts and accounts, versions that did not laud the old powers, but instead praised those without power for wresting it from the cruel. At first the masses willingly destroyed the old books, but then harbouring them, at least in some places, was seen as being an opponent of the new governments."

"Those books were biased, lies to placate the people and make them accept their status."

"Ah, yes, but the best lies are built with truth. Who was in power, and exaggerated accounts of how that came to be, along with hints of the reasoning behind their strict laws and even some knowledge of the land and science was in them. They learned how to use the people themselves to root out and destroy it from the previous government who likewise had destroyed any works that displayed individuality or self-governance."

"The winners get to write the story . . . " Weiss repeated.

They worked a little longer, Weiss completing her second stack of dry dishes and beginning a third that threatened to encroach upon the wet pile. Before long the third stack competed with the first two, and despite her care when she attempted to place a saucepan atop it the formerly stable dishes shifted as though ready to slide down and clatter to the floor. Weiss scrambled to steady them all but was left with no hand free to adjust them properly. Cinder was beside her in a moment, arms reaching through to pull the worst agents of chaos away. As Cinder regained control Weiss cautiously slid away, watching deft hands pulling dishes away and piling them far more tightly in bundles then placed them on the island.

"You should teach me how to rinse the dishes." said Weiss after Cinder had returned to the sink and herself to drying.

"Of course, Miss Schnee." replied Cinder, her words sharp, before she spun to face Weiss without removing her hands from the sink and gave a small bow of her head.

"I did not mean it like that." Weiss replied quickly, nervously backpeddling, "It is just that you know where things go, so it would be more efficient for you to show me how to rinse so you are free to put the dishes away."

"Ah, I see how it is." Cinder's mouth stretched, the smile reaching through her cheeks into her eyes. "You want to hurry up and finish so you don't have to be around me too much longer, yes?"

"What? N-no that's not it at all!" claimed the younger of the two in a voice too meek to suit her insistence. About her hands the towel had become tightly twisted and colour had spread across her face.

"Oh?" pressed Cinder, her right hand dropping to her side and left trailing across the counter as she stepped closer, mindless of the drips from her right hand and letting the water from her left help it glide. "Is it that you wish to help create some free time for me and use it up yourself, privately?"

Weiss could feel the red in her face burning through, her expression revealing just as much as her uncomfortable smile broke through and rose her cheeks enough to encourage her eyes to close. She felt all this coming and turned away quickly, her hands rising to meet her lowered face and bury it in the towel. "N-No. No, it is nothing of the sort." she managed, starting to question how her actions might have looked, but also starting to wonder if it was a joke. 'Could it be some sort of trick, was someone else watching?' She could hear Cinder starting to laugh, how funny it must be to fluster the prim and proper heiress taught to be perfect from childhood. Perhaps it was too much to seek out companionship without a guise - it would never do to have it so easily gotten around. No, this was just a servant, not someone waiting on the sidelines for me fall so that they might take my place.' A thought of Winter flashed in her thoughts. 'Although, a servant has all the more reason to want to see the faults.'

Cinder was fully laughing in short order, but it must not have been as fun with her toy's reaction hidden, given that she tapped Weiss's shoulder to bring her back around. "Okay, okay, I'll stop now." Laughing had left the older girl's face redder than the other's, and her eyes watery, but it had been reined in to something nearly like a hiccup.

Weiss turned and saw this. "Really?" she asked, more drained than she would care to admit from the exchange and late hour.

Cinder snapped into a sloppy mockery of the Atlesian military salute. The pose had more in common with television than reality, but even then was clearly a parody of it. Contrastingly, it was underpinned with some posture correction and a rather stiff arm as a drop of water led a trail down Cinder's face.

"Yes Ma'am!" declared Cinder forcefully.

There it was again. There was something about the way this common phrase was spoken. So different did it sound from the way Margret recited it. Articulate, spoken as two separate words instead of slurred together. So that was it, how curious, although she had worked in the house for nearly a year so the words might not yet have lost their meaning to her. The mirth in Cinder's face betrayed the facade of the farce, though, which was promptly broken in full when she laughed herself out of the pose, bent forward with her arms around her sides.

"Are you done yet? The dishes are still laying out and if they are to be put away I ought to learn how to rinse the few that remain." asked Weiss, only residual blush remaining on her face.

Seeing something serious in Weiss's face, however, Cinder stopped long enough to stand back up and make a grand show of a low bow, one arm in front, and another against her back - the masculine bow of the upper class reserved for formal events in modern times, although not a strict re-creation.

"Certainly m'lady." said Cinder, her laughter gone but playfulness remaining. She straightened back up, "Such work should be left to the servants, not to soil your hands with menial toil, but your wish is as good as command."

Cinder soon had Weiss rinsing on her own, while she herself moved about shuffling pans and putting plates in cupboards. It had not taken long for the mood to shift into a less energetic and more mutually comfortable state. Soon the dishes are all dry and away, and to her shame Weiss discovered she was squeamish about cleaning out drains, much to Cinder's amusement until an errant swing of the catch resulted in her wiping up the floor.

"I suppose we should be parting now." Weiss suggested without conviction.

"Yes." agreed Cinder. "I suppose this is our last encounter until after the gala?"

Weiss nodded. "Mm-hm."

"Thank you for making time to come down tonight." said Cinder, her fingers intertwined and gaze averted in a way that could be considered almost demure.

Weiss was surprised, but merely smiled. "I am glad I did. It was nice to see you." She walked to the door but paused before she let it shut behind her. "Good luck with the gala preparations." she offered, turning towards Cinder as she did so. She was met with a forlorn smile in return.

"And to you as well, Miss Schnee." Unlike before, it was not said formally but in a light-hearted, resigned way that conveyed understanding that Weiss would have to work to prepare for it too.

Weiss entered her room, and with curiosity touched her cheek with her hand. The skin was warm, and she could feel it raised with the natural smile. Surely Margo would be asking her again tomorrow what had her so content, or as the handmaiden would describe it "radiating energy like the sun in the afternoon after a fresh snowfall."