[3-B] Training in the Academy
Her eyes were closed—that was the worst thing. She couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. Panic welled up in her, but she had no pulse to speed up. No breath to cry out. All she could do was listen as Yang was dragged away, and along with her the only chance she had of getting free again.
Then she felt weight on top of her head, an electric thrill that traveled all the way down to the tips of her toes. Her heartbeat started back up again. Her lungs expanded, and her hands clenched into fists. Her eyes snapped open.
Scant millimeters away, a pair of green button eyes stared directly into her soul. Weiss shrieked and slapped the creature off of her. A small teddy bear fell limply to the ground. It pushed itself back to its feet with a pair of fuzzy stub arms and looked up at her in mute betrayal.
"I don't... what?"
The bear tugged on her ankle with its tiny arms. Weiss barely felt it, but she took its meaning and followed it as it walked away, swaying drunkenly. Its stomach had probably been white once, but there wasn't enough bleach in the world to remove all the stains. A few emerald green threads poked out of its chest, where something circular had been embroidered. Between its ears sat a tattered pink bow.
"Where are we going?" The bear pointed up ahead. Well, sort of—it didn't have any fingers, so all it could do wave in a vague general direction. Which it did, so enthusiastically that it almost tipped over. Weiss followed its arm and spotted a steel chute guarded by one of her father's nutcrackers. She hid behind a wooden rocking horse and turned to the teddy.
"Where's Yang?" It pointed at the chute again. A cold feeling settled in Weiss' gut. This was not part of the plan.
"I need to get her out of there." Father didn't like when humans came this far north, and she had no idea what he might do. She had to get back into the manor and find Yang. He should let her leave if Weiss gave him the tiara. Then... well, she'd have to face the consequences of running off.
The teddy hugged her ankle, staring up at her with its wide button eyes as if it could read her thoughts. Weiss scoffed—it wasn't that sad. She'd seen more of the world in the past two weeks than she ever had before. It was a taste, and it would have to be enough.
It took a poke from the teddy for Weiss to stop wishing and start planning. She needed some way to get the guard to leave his post...
Ah.
Smirking to herself, she dug through the nearest trash heap. It wasn't as horrible as she'd expected. There was nothing organic to be seen—or smelled, thankfully—all she found was an astonishing amount of broken toys. There was the blanket she'd been hidden under, a bicycle that was rusted through, and dozens of old stuffed animals. Weiss kept looking over her shoulder in case they started moving. They didn't, but that was almost worse.
At last her eyes landed on a box of glass ornaments. Grabbing one of the few unbroken ones, she hefted it twice in her hand and hurled it as far as she could. It sailed over several piles of odds and ends and shattered. Weiss crouched down behind an empty dollhouse. The teddy clung nervously to the hem of her dress, now that it could reach it. They watched as the guard looked up sharply, then wandered off to investigate.
Weiss stood up again. "I'll get Yang out. If you can find her, will you help her get back to the train station?"
The teddy looked up at her in what seemed like awe. Straightening up as if it had an iron rod in its fuzzy little spine, it snapped off a perfect military salute. Weiss waved goodbye and sprinted towards the chute.
Climbing it turned out to be harder than she'd thought. It was segmented, so there were little metal seams she could use as handholds, but that only meant it wasn't impossible. The endeavor involved a lot more slipping and falling and catching herself at the last minute than Weiss was comfortable with, and it wasn't quiet. Part of her pitied whichever poor guard had carried an uncooperative prisoner up this deathtrap.
Weiss spent a lot of time shuffling around in near-total darkness and cursing whoever had built this rickety mess of an entrance (while firmly rejecting the possibility that it was never meant to be anything but a waste disposal chute, and had been designed accordingly). Then, finally, she emerged in one of the manor's hallways.
Her outfit blended almost perfectly with the walls as she crept around a corner. She could hear voices. Probably elves, judging by their coarse tones. Weiss stopped to press her ear against a nearby door.
"...another hundred dolls by tomorrow," said one voice, deep and thick as mud. "There's been news of unrest in the southeast, he says we need backup inventory in case we lose another train."
"She came back just for that?" asked another, this one more oily. "I thought they had a falling out."
"We're not supposed to talk about it."
There were a few seconds of tense silence, and Weiss moved away. She wasn't some sort of spy—she had a human to find. Which turned out to be much easier than Weiss had expected.
"Inconceivable!" someone shouted. Weiss guessed that it was coming from the main auditorium and turned a few corners. "Completely ridiculous, outlandish, never in all my years!"
"I'm really sorry," said a second voice, flatly and without remorse. "I totally learned my lesson and I'll never do it again." Weiss peered past a curtain and onto the stage.
The auditorium was as enormous as she remembered, with high vaulted ceilings and a polished marble floor that seemed to stretch on forever. Against the far wall, her father's throne loomed like a great white ghost. She could just make out two figures lurking in the shadows beside it.
In the center of the room, the afternoon sunshine slanted in through a skylight and reflected off a massive suit of armor. Yang dangled by her hood from one gauntleted hand, looking like a doll by comparison. She kicked her legs lethargically, less like she was trying to escape and more like she was bored of being held up and wanted to entertain herself by swinging back and forth.
"I cannot believe a human could have the gall, the sheer temerity to enter this sacred palace!" The Paladin was so overcome that it started pacing back and forth. Yang crossed her arms mid-air.
"I told you," she whined, "I got lost! Aren't you people supposed to like kids?"
The Paladin stopped short and glared at her through its visor. "You people? What exactly do you mean by you people?"
"We're in Santa's workshop!" She flailed her feet, like some kind of bizarre punctuation. "Your job is making Christmas toys! Why would you do that if you don't like kids?"
"A magnificent health plan," the Paladin replied. "And dental."
"You have teeth?" Yang poked a finger into its visor. It flicked her on the forehead, and her cheeks puffed up in indignation. Weiss decided that was her cue to intervene—the Paladin had always been patient with her when she was a child, and she'd certainly been difficult, but if anyone could irritate it to the point of violence...
"Halt!" she called out as she emerged from behind the curtain. "Let her go!" It seemed like the thing to say—she couldn't waste an opportunity like this with a bad entrance.
Yang started struggling in earnest, though Weiss doubted anything would come of it except a ripped jacket and the dubious honor of being put in a headlock by one of the most powerful beings in the north pole.
"Miss Schnee," the Paladin greeted her solemnly. "I am glad to see you safely returned."
"Put me down!" Yang's sneaker, still wet from the snow outside, squeaked loudly when she kicked its helmet.
"Is this... thing... yours?" It held Yang out like she was a particularly vile sock it had picked up off the floor. She took exception to this and started taking off her jacket in midair. When she finally squirmed free, it grabbed her by the ankle and let her swing herself upside-down.
"She is my friend," Weiss explained.
"You... have a friend."
Weiss stamped her foot and huffed. "I can have friends!"
The Paladin looked from Yang, who was now trying to reach her feet so she could undo her bootlaces—with her tongue poking out, of course—to Weiss. Then back. "Are you certain?"
"Yes!" Weiss and Yang snapped in unison, both turning bright scarlet—Weiss out of embarrassment, and Yang because she'd been upside down for too long.
It shrugged. Yang groaned as the motion swung her back and forth. "I suppose there are worse humans."
"Put her down!"
"Certainly, Miss Schnee... but I'll be needing that back, first." It jabbed a metal finger at the top of her head.
"Oh." Weiss reached up and touched the tiara. "Of... of course." She'd known since the scrapyard that she probably wouldn't be able to return it to Winter. It was just... different now that she was actually doing it, that was all.
"What?" Yang wriggled in the Paladin's iron grip. "No! You can't do that!" Her voice broke with rage and frustration. There was an odd shimmer around her, like the air just over a fire—a trick of the light?
"Can't," the Paladin mused. "An interesting choice of words, considering your circumstances."
"Don't be rude!" Weiss snapped. It shifted its weight from foot to foot, looking chagrined. She turned to Yang. "And this is my decision, remember."
"But without it you'll turn to ice! You don't need to do that! Just run, I can find a way out on my own!"
"I live here, remember," Weiss pointed out. "It's not as if I could stay in the South forever."
Squaring her jaw and drawing herself up to her full height—not that the twelve-foot-tall behemoth would be intimidated by that—Weiss strode towards the throne that stood brooding against the far wall. On its left side Whitley and her mother stood motionless, staring at nothing. She took a shaky breath. Once she was in her place at the right of her Father's seat, beside the empty spot where her sister had been, she faced the room and stepped into a perfect curtsy.
She held the position as the Paladin approached her. It cocked its helmeted head, giving her an inscrutable look from behind its visor. When she was very small, Weiss had wondered who was in that armor—what gender they were, what they looked like. The older she'd grown, the more certain she had become that there was nothing inside at all. It leaned forward and plucked the tiara from her head. A familiar feeling seeped into her veins, numbing her. She blinked once, quickly, making sure her eyes were open when her face froze solid. A second too late, she realized she'd forgotten to smile.
Yang's eyes went wide with horror. If she could have, Weiss might have snapped at her—there was no reason to look at her like that. It wasn't that sad—she'd enjoyed seeing more of the world, but now it was time to go home.
The Paladin did as it had promised and set Yang gently on the floor. Weiss had never entertained the thought of it double-crossing her—it simply wasn't in the construct's nature. Loyal to the bone, or maybe a better word would be obedient.
When Yang tried to run to the throne, the Paladin put a hand in front of her to block her way. She vaulted over its arm. It grabbed her by the back of her shirt and hoisted her into the air. It looked annoyed, but it put her down again—this time farther away from Weiss.
"Please vacate the premises," it said curtly. "You do have some means of returning home, I hope?"
"I'm not going anywhere!"
Two guards approached from behind her, picked her up by the shoulders, and dragged her towards the door. She struggled and squirmed in their grip. Her arm got free for a moment, and she socked one of them right in the eye. It made an indignant chattering sound. Weiss wished she could tell Yang to leave the poor soldiers alone—they were only doing their jobs.
"Hey!" she howled, kicking and biting at both guards. "Put me down!"
"There's no reason to get so worked up about this," the Paladin said. "Go home, human."
"No!" Smoke curled up from her hair. Weiss' eyes would have widened if they could.
"Why on earth not?"
"Because she's my friend!" Yang shouted defiantly—and burst into flame. Her hair turned the same shade of gold as the heart of a fire, and it flowed behind her like the tail of a comet. Her eyes burned red.
Both guards let go of her instantly and backed away. Yang looked at her hands as if she was seeing them for the first time. Then she clenched her fists and glared at the Paladin. It stepped protectively in front of Weiss and drew its sword, but she dodged around its legs and sprinted towards the throne.
Weiss tried to turn and run, to back away, even just to gasp, but she couldn't move. She braced herself for the blistering heat as Yang grabbed her arm. It didn't come.
Yang's hand was pleasantly warm. Weiss could feel the softness of her skin as it closed around her wrist. She shouldn't be able to—her whole body had gone numb. Slowly, she felt the muscles in her arm relax. The ice melted and slid off her, evaporating into wisps of steam. She stumbled, then caught herself on the human's still-burning shoulder. For a moment, all she could do was gape in wonder at the fire playing across her skin. It felt like she'd imagined a Southern summer would, warming her right to her bones.
The diadem sat in the Paladin's palm as it stared at them. When it realized Weiss was not only uninjured but moving, and made of real flesh and blood, it lowered its sword in astonishment. Seeing an opportunity, Weiss rushed past it while it was still in shock. She didn't let go of Yang's hand, partly because it was a convenient way to make sure she didn't dawdle and partly because she was worried she'd freeze again if she did.
The wooden guards decided that even their exorbitant paychecks weren't worth going near the girl on fire. They backed away, giving the two of them a wide berth as Yang approached. Behind them, the Paladin swung its sword. The sheer force of the blow carved a crater in the floor, and a nearby nutcracker toppled over as the ground shook. Yang tripped, which meant that Weiss stumbled too, and they both landed into a graceless heap.
"Come on, come on, come on!" Weiss heaved Yang off the floor and dragged her bodily across the room with strength she hadn't known she possessed. If they could just get out of the ballroom, they would be safe. The Paladin wasn't as slow as it looked, but it was enormous, and Weiss had never seen it leave the room. She 'd always suspected the door wasn't wide enough for its shoulders to pass through.
As they crossed the threshold, the human turned halfway around and shouted, "Sorry! Hope you don't get fired!" And, of course, she started cackling.
The Paladin called indignantly after them to, "Get back here, you miscreants!" but Weiss had been right about the door. It was stuck. She wondered how it had gotten in there in the first place—was the room built around it? Did it grow? The implications of that weren't something she wanted to think about right then. Or ever.
"Let's get out of here," she panted. The taste of free air was intoxicating. Slowly, cautiously, she removed her wrist from Yang's grip. Nothing happened—she really was... what? Human? Or just built of the same stuff?
Weiss giggled, and Yang raised an eyebrow at her. She coughed and pointed down the hall. "There's an exit that way." She tried to school her expression into something a little more dignified. She kept wiggling her toes—no one could see that, anyway.
They slowed to a walk as they went, and Yang eventually stopped burning. After that, Weiss stuck to back hallways and kept a furtive eye out. She wasn't sure the guards would leave them alone now that the fire was gone.
Weiss wasn't sure if it was luck, or if Yang had scared them worse than she'd thought, but for a long time they didn't run into anyone. As they got closer and closer to the exit, she relaxed by degrees. In her mind, she was safe—they'd already made it past the Paladin, and they were a long way from Father's office.
Then, as she rounded the last corner before the exit, she skidded to a terrified halt. Winter was standing in the middle of the corridor, one hand on her sword. For an instant Weiss dared to hope that she hadn't heard them. But then she turned, and there was nowhere to hide. Steely-blue eyes flickered over the pair of them, evaluating them, until she was finally satisfied. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She tilted her head in the direction of the door, and stepped aside.
Releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding, Weiss dipped into a curtsy made sloppy by haste, then dashed past her and out into the open air. The last glimpse she caught of her sister was of her watching them leave, still with that odd smirk on her face. She raised a hand in farewell.
The side door slammed shut behind them. Weiss made it about twenty feet before she collapsed, hyperventilating and wincing as the snow touched her bare knees. She had escaped her Father, she was truly cold for the first time, her sister approved and she was never, ever doing anything this stressful again.
Yang poked her shoulder. "Are you okay?" It came out a bit muffled since her teeth were chattering. Weiss could finally empathize.
"I think so." She made a fist, watched her nails dig into her palm. It was a real, flesh-and-blood human hand. She'd had one when she was wearing the diadem... but that had been something she'd borrowed. Stolen. This was hers.
"Yes," she decided. "I feel... good."
...Yeah, this one was Christmas Carols. And it's dropping in November. The day before Thanksgiving. Fuck. I swear I didn't do that on purpose! I actually originally figured it would be more like June... :/
So... er... Happy (Always Forgotten) Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it?