Share, review, and enjoy once again! It's been so long! Sorry! T-T

Yes, there was some fluff. As in a fluffy dog. No regrets, though! You knew what you signed up for when you saw [Weiss x OC]. And there's only going to be more-

As it's been so long since I posted, here you go. No beta this time.

Gamma: Oath of the Dog

Winter was in a panic. Not for herself and the possible demotion from the jack*** of a commander she had, but for Weiss. With her own eyes, she saw her baby sister taken away by a White Fang leader.

She wasn't sure what to make of him. Winter thought she knew what the Faunus field commanders were like: rough, insensitive, and positively disgusting. They were idiots, too: the older Schnee swore she once saw one of the muscle-bound Faunus nearly shoot himself. In combat, their flailing movements only had misused strength behind them.

Skoll was not that kind of Faunus. If she hadn't seen his dog ears, she would've said he was human. His movements were masterful, dodging and parrying her attacks with next to no effort. And from the moment he stepped onto the ruined Cavalier, Skoll had taken control of the duel. He forced her into situations where her Glyphs couldn't even the odds and into areas he exploited ruthlessly. She had no chance from the beginning.

The elder Schnee insisted that the White Fang leader was much, much more dangerous and much more complicated than previously thought. Yet Winter's length and detailed post-battle analysis had been laughed off by the higher-ups in the chain of command, all saying the same exact thing.

"There's no way a crude brute like that could ever defeat Atlas," Winter muttered, "my ***. Give him the army of one of the kingdoms and he could raze the northern continent in a year."

The only person who took her report seriously was General Ironwood, a legend among the Atlesian military. At the meeting, he rubbed his right temple with his fingers vigorously and sighed. Winter remembered what he said: "Meet me in a few hours. We need to talk. Alone."

The Atlas Specialist remembered her commander-in-chief, as well as the various myths about him. He projected an air of confidence and strength, but underlying that was courage as strong as steel. He made his name by culling the Grimm numbers in Atlas massively, allowing the kingdom to expand in the northern continent. But that's where fantasy left reality.

One story told how, with a single bullet, Ironwood ended a Goliath. Another recalled the tale where he beat a whole army back with a squad of recruits. Yet the most unbelievable one was how he lost the whole right side of his body, and still managed to kill a giant Nevermore.

Winter could believe the first story, refute the second, and wonder about the third. But that amazement took a backseat to Skoll.

When she told her general about the White Fang leader, she saw a new emotion: fear. It wasn't overpowering, but it was instinctive.

Without a word to the occasional (and annoying) admirer or to snobby commanders, she made her way to Ironwood's office. She didn't make it far.

"How are you doing, Ice Queen?"

Winter stopped in her tracks as she made eye contact with the person she most hated. He wasn't the most smug, or the most egotistic. But his arrogance rubbed her the wrong way. No, rubbed is too mild. Scratched was the right word.

Born rich and sheltered from the world, he was raised racist, overconfident, and way too well. He thought himself as a hero who deserved all he wanted: money, fame, and a Schnee.

The elder Schnee loathed Zweig Feuer. His hot-headedness got him into trouble thousands of times in the field, and only his luck made sure he survived. Yet somehow, he had enough talent and skill to become the youngest Atlesian Specialist, at age 18. Only a handful could ever dream to be him.

Winter was the only one who knew his father was the one reason he was in.

If it was him against Skoll, Skoll would've killed him easily.

The thought entangled herself deep into her mind, refusing to budge against Winter's half-a**ed arguments. She knew that it was true. Zweig would've been blown up and then impaled, even if he was using his Semblance. Whatever it was.

Winter rushed past him, ignoring his "innocent" bump on the shoulder. She pushed his words out of her head, leaving them to wither away in the silence.

"I said HEY! 1st Lieutenant Schnee-"

"Private Feuer. Need I remind you the proper etiquette for Atlesian Specialists?"

The 18-year-old greenhorn immediately froze.

"I am on my way to a meeting, Private. This does not concern you," Winter nearly hissed, her mind at the breaking point. "Talk to the other, more intelligent private Specialists before you dare break a rule again."

With her icy words out in the air, the elder Schnee felt a twinge of guilt. She honestly didn't meant her words to be so harsh. Despite his beliefs, he did his job with a stubbornness only seen once in every generation. He listened, and was on good terms with everyone. Zweig may not have been the best, but he was a model Specialist.

What made him that? Well, he kept on improving, to the point where even his racism was more superstition than all out hate.

"I'm sorry, Private Feuer. I've- I've had a hard week."

Zweig nodded in understanding. "It's fine, 1st Lieutenant Schnee. It's just that Faunus b*****'s fault."

"Language, Private," Winter admonished.

"Yes, ma'am," Zweig replied, standing up a little taller. "Can I still call you Ice-"

"Denied. Now, go on and check on the other Privates. I expect a report of their condition at 1800 hours."

A salute later, and Winter was left alone to her thoughts. It seemed to take an eternity to reach Ironwood's office, and even longer to wait at the door once she knocked.

"You're just on time."

He stood proud like a steel skyscraper did in Atlas, his salt-and-pepper hair framing a still-handsome battle-worn face. He stood at least half a foot taller than her, his muscular body only hidden by custom armored clothing. A metallic slip connected to his right temple. Gloves concealed his powerful hands.

Ironwood gestured with his left hand. "Follow me. There's some testing to be done."

Winter's mind only turned up a question mark. "Why, sir?" she asked.

The steady steps of a veteran echoed gently and authoritatively down the hall. "We need to get a feel of how good this... Skoll is," Ironwood replied. "A personal performance and a comparison between the two of you should make the rest of the Atlesian military understand. After all-"

"Numbers are numbers, sir," Winter finished.

The general nodded. "They'll have you wear a bodysuit tracking your movements and have people of varying levels fight against you. Your job is to report whether or not fighting them is harder or easier than trying to land a hit on Skoll. Although I already know what happened, you need to convince them."

"Bodysuit... I see..."

It's going to be tight, isn't it? For all the boys...

"They'll have you wear another layer over the bodysuit to detect hits. It's like clothing."

Winter let out a breath in relief. "Can I get started then, sir?"

"Permission granted," Ironwood cooly replied.

Briskly, she slipped away to the women's restroom, where her white (of course) jumpsuit hung from the ceiling. Simple.

One unwritten undressing and dressing scene later, she jogged out, stretching out and warming up her muscles. Her saber hung by her side, ready for her opponents.

They stood in front of her. Specialists. And among them...

Zweig... Oh boy.

Weiss still couldn't wrap her head around Skoll in general.

They both were in the steel cage, the metal glinting slightly in the dim lights. There was no sound at all around them, not even the breathing of a White Fang guard. It was just the two of them, sitting together awkwardly on the clean white bed.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Without a weapon and the senses of a Faunus, it would be impossible to defend against an assailant. Combine a skilled combatant with her disadvantaged position, and her defeat was guaranteed. If Skoll forced himself on her… she'd be [censored].

Somehow, in this situation, she was fantasizing about him. She could imagine him stripping his shirt off, revealing his powerful body hidden by his slim frame, before pushing her onto her back on the bed. Her sky blue eyes could see him climb on top of her, his left arm forcing her wrists onto the white sheets. With his other hand, he could unzip her pure dress (complete with a miniskirt) and slowly, teasingly pull it off her and leave her in her undergarments. It'd then be a simple matter of-

"Weiss? Weiss, you're daydreaming aren't you?" Skoll said.

The heiress almost failed to notice his hand waving in front of her face.

She let out a shaky breath, glad that her thoughts didn't… finish her irrational fantasy. "O-Oh… sorry. I'm just thinking…"

Weiss's words caught in her throat as Skoll slipped off his White Fang leader's uniform in one smooth motion with his right hand. His abs and pectorals were smaller than she thought they were, but they fit his frame much better. They were so much more defined: the muscles looked like they were chiseled onto him.

His arms were so mesmerizing too. He wasn't overly bulky or lanky, somehow fitting miraculously into that perfect zone with enough muscle to look powerful.

Somehow, she had the weirdest desire to wrap her arms around one of them. She wasn't sure why. It could've been that warm feeling in her chest…

Wait… isn't this the Stockholm Syndrome?

Weiss's memory was luckily unaffected by biceps and pectorals and brought the necessary information.

Stockholm was a northern Atlesian prison on paper… and a torture facility for prisoners of war. It was a structure of cruel concrete and steel, and home of a fire Dust lode and even hotter cruelty. Reports of hypothermia and marches in the freezing land flew into Atlas.

At first, the citizens were outraged. They tried to convict the warden of human rights violations by bringing former victims in as testimony. But it backfired horribly, with the ex-convicts instead defending the… monster in the most ludicrous of ways. One of them, a captured war nurse from Vacuo, argued that the guards only abused her once a day, which was better than three times a day.

In the end, the warden went free, and to this day Stockholm was still open.

Weiss pushed Skoll away, her hands momentarily touching his upper chest. The dog Faunus didn't move back, but he did stand up and walk to the far end of the cage.

"Sorry…" Skoll said, his face covered by the shadows.

Shakily, the younger Schnee sister began. "How can I trust you? I mean, at any moment, this… oath could be broken," she said. "I mean… there's no obligation for you. You'll lose everything."

"It's better to have a chance to make it better, Weiss," the White Fang traitor replied. "Either way, I choose to sacrifice."

"You're just saying that to break me, aren't you?" the heiress snarled, again momentarily overwhelmed by the situation. She wanted to cry again.

She wouldn't give him the pleasure of that.

"No," he replied immediately.

And once again, her bias spoke faster than her mind. "You're a liar, like the rest of your kind."

Skoll's left hand clenched tightly as he gritted his teeth. In the silence, the grinding was barely audible.

In the dim lights, Weiss swore she saw blood. It was red, just like hers.

"Maybe I am. Sometimes, the truth is crazier than the lie."

And smoothly, he picked up his momentarily discarded uniform and began to open the prisoner door to freedom-

As Weiss tried to sneak up on him, Skoll suddenly closed the door. It was surprisingly quiet as he roughly pushed her onto the bed. A look of momentary panic filtered through his eyes.

"How is your time with the Schnee so far?"

The heiress's sky-blue eyes met the Grimm mask of the bull Faunus man in front of her. Much like Skoll, he was slim and muscular. His very being was cruel like the horns on his head, which could gore her to death.

He wore black and red: darkness and blood. By his side was a sheath… and a katana. A weapon designed to cleave flesh apart cleanly.

She was on edge. This was Adam, leader of the White Fang. She was right in front of the leader of the terrorist organization that killed her family members.

"Not bad," the scheming Faunus second-in-command replied. "She's doing decently. Just learning more about each other."

Satisfied, Adam nodded. "Good. Do not fail me. Prepare her for later," he ordered before walking off.

Skoll bowed at bit before letting out a breath he had been holding.

"That was close."

The panic again set into his eyes, pleading with her, begging her. They were puppy eyes.

"You could've died right then. Everything I've been doing, for nothing. It'd be better if Adam focused more on me than the world," Skoll croaked. "You die, and the world goes to s***."

Weiss frowned. "Language, you mangy dog-"

He sighed. "Fine..." he grumbled gently.

He sat as far away from her on the floor, in the shadows.

Silence.

There nothing they could talk about. The heiress's irritation faded away as... minutes... or hours... ticked by? She couldn't tell. And as time went by... she felt sorry.

Here was a Faunus trying so honestly to help her escape, and what does she do? She pushes him away.

For a moment, Skoll leaned forward into the light. His face and ears... just... down...

So she stood up, her feet gently sounding on the stone floor. She took elegant steps at first before impulsively sliding on her knees on the smooth rock and hugging him. It hurt a bit- but not as much as her own guilt and feelings.

The dog Faunus sat up straight, his dog ears perked up in utter surprise. His honey-brown eyes widened as his breathing immediately quickened.

"W-Weiss..." he asked quietly.

"I'm being too mean to you, aren't I?" she said. It was hard, swallowing those words and her pride. It was all based on a rare decision of intuition, fighting against the logic she prided herself on.

For once, she felt like she had made the right decision. The muscles that she could feel relaxed significantly as Skoll exhaled.

"To be honest... yeah," he replied.

He breathed in, then smiled a bit. "Jeez, you stink... I mean, the ice pear isn't real at all, so why use it? Your natural scent is much better," he commented. "I can feel those chemicals drafting up my nose, and they burn. Well, not really, but you get the idea. It's not natural at all..."

Weiss punched him in the stomach softly. "Shut up. It's not like you're any better, you sweaty puppy," she retorted. "Also, you were smelling me? Gross."

Skoll rolled his eyes. "What'da expect a dog to do? Be cute all the time and chase its tail all day long?" he said.

The heiress nodded. "Pretty much," she replied.

The traitor White Fang member shook his head and wrapped his arms around Weiss again, drawing her close to his bare chest. As he did so, Weiss managed to drape his jacket over his shoulders before she grabbed his cheeks and pinched him.

"Did I say you could hug me?" she said in a mock threatening voice.

Skoll smiled. "Did you say you didn't want one? No? Well, then shut up. I need a hug, you need a hug, so viola," he replied. "But anyways... I guess you could listen to who I am."

His warmth comforted her, somehow... like curling up to a pet by a fire. She wanted to be like that to him, even though she looked ice cold.

Weiss's hands found her way to his shoulders. "Is this... okay? I've never been t-this close to somebody... like... you..." she asked.

Skoll nodded, his heart pounding a bit more. When you have such an adorable person so close to you, of course that'll happen! "Better," he admitted. "Warmer."

Absentmindedly, he began brushing his fingers through her pure-white ponytail. "I guess I'll start with who I am."

He gulped audibly. Weiss could tell that this was a sensitive topic for him.

"My real name is Blazon Chien. I am the eldest son of, frankly, the most powerful Faunus family in Mistral. Ironic, considering the hellhole I'm in now and the current state of Fauni-human affairs."

A sad glint entered his eyes. "And as the eldest son, I disappointed them from the very moment I was born. Somehow, I have no idea, I was the runt of them all. You see... the Chiens pride themselves on strength and other physical abilities. They believe themselves to be the strongest, the fastest, the best damn combative Faunus out there. They argued that they could, most of all, stand the test of time and persevere through everything. And I? All I had was intelligence."

"Even though they called me horrifying names, they still expected me to pledge allegiance to him. To let them dictate my life, when they explicitly stated they would rather end it."

Skoll grit his teeth. "So I ran off into the night after my siblings had trained to exhaustion. I barely escaped by jumping off a damn cliff so instead of dying by my family's hand, I'd die by the ocean's hand. Guess what? It didn't work out."

"Instead of dying, I swam. Whatever the case, I kept my breath and didn't go down under for good. I don't know how long I treaded water, but I made it to a smuggling ship en route to the beaches of an island west of Menagerie. So instead of drowning, I got to survive with no idea where I was and no idea to survive in the wild."

He laughed sorrowfully. "Turns out, there was a exploration expedition in the morning after I landed on the island, long after the smugglers did their trading and left. It was led by a cat Faunus who nearly kicked me back into the ocean when I stared at him wrong. Black hair, golden eyes, and muscle- well, it's a understatement to say I nearly died. He probably thought I was bait from Faunus bandits in the area."

"Night fell, and I found myself in the care of that Faunus's daughter. I managed to recover from all of that, but..."

He pulled up his pant legs to midway of his thighs.

"... these will be here forever. Truth be told, I'm amazed I wasn't crippled back then," Skoll finished. "The way she was treating them, I thought they'd have to be amputated."

The scars carved into his legs were nothing short of chaotic, following no clear pattern at all. They looked liked a bear went on a slashing frenzy on them before letting a honey badger do the finishing touches. Branches of pale, thicker flesh remained on his slightly tanned legs. As they rose past the rolled-up cloth, Weiss suspected that they went up just below his hips.

In fact, now that she noticed the leg scar, she could also see even more healed cuts. A long but shallow one drew itself to the right of Skoll's abs. A jagged rip had healed into a twisting scar from his left pectoral to his upper back.

"Tch... even to this day they still hurt," Skoll said. "I don't know why. And occasionally, they feel weak. But anyways..."

His arms pressed a bit tighter against Weiss's back, bring the two even closer.

"The Belladonnas at the time were part of the White Fang before... before the organization's change in ideology. In fact, they led it. So when the leader stepped down... his subordinate came up. And that's where Taurus, I, and Belladonna's daughter came into play. You see..."

"Go on," Weiss told him. "It's fine."

He nodded shakily. "There's different branches of the White Fang," Skoll explained. "The three of us joined the Vale branch to protest there before the change in leadership. When we were there, all of us steadily rose up in rank. Adam became the right-hand man of the Faunus in charge. Those were better times. Obviously, it didn't stay that way... when the Vale branch leader passed away. He was assassinated by a human supremacist."

"We took control with Adam's charisma, my intelligence, and Belladonna's passion for the Faunus cause. We essentially created the White Fang as it is today, or at least the foundation of it."

The heiress exhaled deeply to calm her nerves. "The base? What do you mean?" she asked cautiously. "Is it why the White Fang is so militant?"

He nodded. "Adam built this version of the White Fang on anger. On emotion. My logic was the only thing that kept the radical elements from spilling out into violence. And he agreed with me, at least initially..."

Those honey-brown eyes closed. "I... I can't go further..." he whispered. "It's all my fault..."

Her pale arms tightened around his neck. "Please," she begged.

Skoll shook his head. "I'm the reason you're being hunted by the White Fang. All because I didn't stand up to Adam. I didn't stop him when I could, and now I can't do anything..."

Sky-blue eyes stared down honey-brown ones. The heiress placed her hands just behind his humanoid ears, her delicate hands brushing through his hair. It felt soft.

"Skoll. Listen to me," Weiss softly said. "It's okay. Maybe I've been hunted, my family despised... but you've given me answers to why. Can you go on?"

A tear spilled out of the corner of his honey eyes. "Y-yes..."

Her head laid onto his upper chest, her body shifting to accommodate. In the slight draft the area inherently had, she drew herself even closer to Skoll. He was warmth. He was comfort. And, she suspected, he was the answer to her life.

"That day... Adam's crowd became truly his. I stood behind him during that rally, as always. Everything changed when... they killed their first human. A Schnee."

Skoll shivered. "Adam and the rest tore him apart. And I? I stood by, doing nothing. I didn't pull Adam back, I didn't contradict him. I didn't stand up for what the White Fang originally meant. And now? I'm worse than a sinner now."

"I let him die. By extension, I let the old White Fang die. It's easily the biggest regret in my life. I sold my beliefs for prosecution and the nightmarish hell of a future. So... S-So..."

More tears burst out.

"Help... me..."

The heiress pulled his crying face close to hers. "Shh... shh... It's fine. Um... the pact..."

Under the gentle, watchful moonlight, in an abandoned warehouse in Mistral, Weiss Schnee kissed Skoll on the lips. It was light, gentle, unsure. He tasted sweet, like actual honey, with a bit of a salty tang. She wanted that taste, somehow. So she deepened-

Skoll's arms jerked her back. His eyes were blank as his mouth struggled to form coherent sounds, shaking in disbelief. Weiss could actually see the red on his face, which she knew was on hers as well.

"Wha- Wha- What are you doing!?" he stammered.

The heiress sighed as she leaned in again, only for the dog Faunus to lean back and keep her a safe distance away with his arms. "I'm sealing the oath with you-" she began.

He shook his head. "No. Not how it works."

Those light-blue eyes stared into him, boring into his skull in disbelief. "You're saying that I spent my first kiss on you," she managed to say, "and wasted it."

Skoll nodded.

Freezing daggers stabbed into the dog Faunus's eyes, chilling him to the bone. "You..." Weiss began, her voice heightening to-

"Shh, shh, shh!" he whispered as he brought her back into a hug. "It's... it's a bit complicated. Umm... how do I put this..."

Those honey-brown eyes closed. "Wrong oath. You almost did one that'd last for a lifetime. Like... oh god. I'm not telling-"

"Like what?" Weiss interrogated as she brought him closer with a hand and an aura that made Skoll shiver slightly.

"Like- Like a marriage," the White Fang traitor admitted. He closed his eyes, surrendering to his fate.

A light breeze rushed by. Weiss's breath. "Well... It wouldn't be too bad."

"Eeeh!?" Skoll almost shouted before Weiss shut his mouth closed.

"Just go on with it," she ordered.

A moment passed by. Both silent as their thoughts raced by. Lap by lap, Weiss weighed her options once more. If she didn't trust him, she'd die. But if she did, he'd be able to save her... or more easily betray her. And either way, Skoll would lose his chance to make things right.

"Your oath with me... will you do it?" Sky-blue eyes closed as Weiss leaned more on Skoll.

"I will. I'll get you out of here, even if it kills me."

His Aura, a resolute pure white, flickered as their souls connected. His Semblance, unused for years, would finally see use again.