AYangThang: Apologies, I've been away for so long. Honestly there are a lot of reasons for why I've been slacking off. Though I don't care to get into it too much, I'll say this, loss sucks.

Do me a favor, go find someone you care about, and hug them. Tell them you do actually care. Spend a little extra time with them…put the effort in to make memories while you can. Don't take those opportunities for granted. No matter what, you'll always wish you had that one more second, and one day, it really will be too late to have even that much. I know that sort of advice seems obvious, but, it's also true that people tend to get caught up in the mundanity of their own lives...don't wait.

Anyway, it's time I pull myself out from under the rock I've been living under and get back to work on this. My life is still not completely on track yet, and it won't be for a while. That being said, to make the epilogue more manageable, I'm breaking into parts. I'm finally happy with it, but 15k really is just too damn long for a chapter, epilogue or not. Hope you enjoy the read.

Chapter 61: Epilogue Part 1

A loud whistle sounded through the arena, and two small fencers collapsed from exhaustion.

They had been at this for hours, and with their teacher showing no signs of letting up any time soon, they shared a worried glance. Robin, the brasher of the two reached forward. She grasped her sword first, getting into position. She had studiously mastered the proper form, but wobbled unsteadily in her excitement.

Her sister, Astrid, took more time to ready herself. Her posture was perfect, and her form was graceful. They faced their opponent again, ready to strike. This adversary was different from the rest, but no less difficult to face. Their goal remained the same.

They had only one. To last sixty seconds in the ring with a certified hunter. It sounded easy, but the challenge proved nearly impossible. Although they took every opportunity, failure came swiftly, the same as always. They would both be disarmed soon enough.

"Abysmal!" Weiss called out causing both of the girls to flinch as they turned to face her. "That was an absolutely abysmal attempt." Weiss sighed as she crossed her arms, clicking her tongue in a show of aggravation. She wasn't, not really, but she had painted herself as the harsh teacher. It was for the best, and Weiss decided to follow through on her unusually high expectation as she groomed the twin girls into miniature huntresses. "I've seen better from the both of you. I expect that you perform at your absolute best, and I expect it now."

"There's no way we can win." Astrid retorted, fetching her sword glumly.

"With that attitude, you most certainly won't." Weiss was the firmest instructor, but their most difficult opponent by far was their own mother, Pyrrha. "Stand up, retrieve your weapons, and go at her with the intent to kill. It's the only way you'll even come close."

Part of it, Weiss was sure, was that Pyrrha didn't want them to win. Allowing them even a single victory would promise her daughters complex and dangerous training. The other part of it was simply that Pyrrha was a skilled fighter. Her semblance lent itself useful for ending the battles before they even began. The matches continued, as Weiss turned to look at Jaune. The man at her side biting his lip worriedly.

"They'll be huntresses, I'll make that happen." She murmured, just loud enough not to be overheard by the children.

"I can't believe you got Pyrrha to agree to this. Although, Astrid has a point. They'll never win against her, Pyrrha would never allow it."

"That's the point, Jaune. This isn't going to help them in the traditional sense, but training is a double edged sword." She relaxed her stance, her eyes softening under his concern. "I want this to be an effort in futility right now. Their errors will forcibly correct themselves. This method ensures that they're made of the resolve needed to see their training through."

"I'm not so sure." Jaune said, wincing when the twins went crashing onto the mat once more. "This isn't what I had in mind when I asked you to oversee their training."

"Failure to overcome impossible odds, well, that's same as failing to survive." Weiss said quietly. "I never expected for either of them to be successful so early. I give it a year or two before we actually see one of them last long enough."

"Then why are you forcing them to do it." Jaune asked.

"They're young, Jaune. Testing a person's resolve comes foremost in this line of work." Then, she laughed a little. Perhaps she was asking too much of them, but that was simply the only way of life she lived by. "It's true, as they are, they'll never win against Pyrrha. If I was looking for that, I'd put someone with realistic expectations into the ring with them, and when the time comes, I will."

"It seems as if you've given this a lot of thought." He said, reaching for a bottled water. Anything so that he didn't have to look ahead at the display. Last time he glanced, both of his daughters look completely exhausted, and Pyrrha looked as though she were ready to end their training for the day. "Who would you put into the ring with them, if you don't mind my asking?"

Weiss merely sent him a look. "Jaune, my training was equally as extensive as a young girl, but I have never once beaten Winter at swordplay. If she had not thrown several of our training matches, I never would have been given the opportunity to prove myself to my father." Weiss sighed then. "As it stands, if my back hadn't been so seriously injured, I might have be able to issue my sister a worthy challenge…however, I also feel as if that statement overcompensates for my abilities."

"Who in their right mind would throw a match?" Jaune wondered aloud, more to himself than to Weiss.

"You truly are a total and complete dunce at times." Weiss answered him anyway. "This is not the sort a training children endure for any true length of time. If Robin and Astrid persist long enough, they will grow and develop their talents. Furthermore, it will prove they're committed to the brutality that will inevitably face them. Any hunter willing to teach the newest generation would bend to that kind of resolve."

He chose not to comment further, doubting Weiss would actually tell him anything more than that. The matches continued for a short while later until the twins couldn't fight any longer. Weiss ordered them to hit the showers, neither praising nor chastising their abilities. She saw their skill, yes, but she refused to encourage them during their actual training. That came before sessions, and times long after them.

It was a cold way to teach, perhaps, but it was the method her own sister had used. Weiss knew it to be effective.

Weiss only laughed when Pyrrha grabbed a bottle of her own water. The vexation clear as day as she took a long swig from the crinkling plastic. "I know I told you not to hold back, Pyrrha, but those matches were a little too decisive, even for you."

"You know how I feel about involving myself in this training." Pyrrha told Weiss. She hadn't even broken a sweat, not a scratch on her for her trouble. Only annoyance. "I don't have any desire in raising my hand to my children, during training or otherwise."

"Which is why you're perfect target." Weiss replied as the three of them began to stroll out of the arena. "As I was just telling Jaune, your involvement has been the most effective training tool they've come across."

Pyrrha let out a slow breath. "I don't see how that could possibly be true."

Weiss could only shake her head at that. "No, I suppose you don't, but that's of no consequence. Either way, I'd like you to continue being a somewhat regular match-up for them to battle against. I also believe it will be good for you to have a hand in their training process, even if only to inhibit them."

Pyrrha scowled in confusion. "Honestly? You want me to force them to lose?"

"I didn't think you'd find that to be a problem." Weiss said simply. "You don't want them to succeed as huntresses, do you?"

Pyrrha stopped walking, her heels upon the marble floor became silent. Weiss and Jaune turned to her, but her gaze focused purely on Weiss. The woman knowingly or not, hit a cord. "No." It was one Pyrrha had no intention of ignoring. "You're mistaken. Huntresses or not, I just don't want to see them get hurt."

Weiss did little more than lift her brow, a retort on her lips dying in a way it never had before. Then she nodded. "Every child needs something to overcome. Be it person or object, something must inhibit them. You are perhaps their greatest adversary, and believe me when I say that's the greatest advantage you could ever give them. Let that be your strength, and in turn, let it be theirs."

"You're asking the impossible of me, Weiss." Pyrrha breathed.

"Even if they cannot defeat you now, so long as you grant them the indulgence of trying, you're implying that one day it may become possible." Maybe that was an unfair thing to ask of her friend, but fairness had no room in training. Not when it came to being a huntress. "They'll succeed one way or the other. Unfortunately you understand that just as well as I do."

There were preparations to make, and her work would never seemingly get done. Although Weiss knew she had several duties that couldn't be left ignored for too long, she was equally reluctant to leave Blake and her children to their own devices for any length of time. It just didn't feel right. Weiss didn't have much time to spare, but the moments that she found, small in number though they were, she surrounded herself with her family.

There was a stack of paperwork needing her attention, and there would be hell to pay for it, she was sure, but she bypassed her home office either way. It would still be there later. Knowing this, she left it sitting idly by.

Instead, she crept ever so silently through the nesting room. The noonday sun high in the sky, blocked out by the drapes. Carefully, she abandoned her shoes by the door, her stocking feet brushing along the floor. With baited breath she crouched down to the bundle of blankets where her three cubs rested together. Their ears were beginning to open, and their sensitivity to even the slightest noise would set them all off. She had never quite been the expert in infiltration that Blake was, but the litter demanded the skill.

She had to maneuver soundlessly, and do it flawlessly, least she have three mewing children unhappily demanding attention.

All of them wore soft cotton hats to cover their sensitive ears, and that helped to muffle the sounds somewhat, but Weiss knew that anything above even the slightest murmur would wake them all up in an instant. Nearby, Blake was silently reading, dressed in her usual lack of attire. If Weiss could appreciate anything about Blake's tendency to reside in the nesting area, it was that she also spent majority of her time with her breasts out and on display.

Even now, her white silk robe was left open and a pair of black underwear hugged her hips perfectly.

The cubs would easily find Blake's scent, and little claws had a bad habit of snagging into almost any type of cloth. The room was also kept warmer than the rest of the house, meaning that it was almost stifling to those acclimated to the chilly climate. Though Weiss knew it was for good reason, she appreciated Blake's habitual nudity. She couldn't deny the way her gaze lingered on her absolutely gorgeous wife.

Though Blake didn't show it, she always enjoyed those rare occasions when she caught Weiss openly gawking. The white haired woman did it so rarely, that it was something of a treat.

Still, she made no indication that she noticed. Wavy dark tresses ran freely over her shoulders, and golden eyes focused on her book. Although she knew Weiss was openly gawking at her, she paid no mind to it, so completely at ease by the situation that she didn't so much as flick an ear in her wife's general direction. Instead, she stretched her legs out, and soundlessly patted the floor beside her.

Just the tiniest ray of sunlight poked through the drapery and casting a line of light across the floor. Weiss took the invitation to bask in the serenity all too willingly.

She no sooner settled beside her wife that her eyes drifted shut. She wasn't paying attention to the time, but far sooner than she would have liked, the first small mew disturbed the otherwise perfect silence.

Wide eyed and attentive, Blake lifted her gaze to the bundle of bedding. Weiss did the same, unwilling to admit that she did so with a fraction of worry. Fearful that all three might wake up at the same time. She didn't move, holding her breath and hoping that it was just a fluke.

Their son had other plans. He mewed again, this time indignantly.

"Finley…" Weiss muttered between her teeth, choosing to wait it out a moment longer. "Every time." She whispered. "Every damn time like clockwork."

"At least he's punctual…" Blake said just as quietly, a smile tugging at her lips as he mewed again. "He wants you, not me." She flattened her ears back to avoid the loudness of the sound, least he start screeching.

"I was afraid you'd say that." Weiss murmured, but moved to retrieve her now continually mewing child before his ruckus disturbed his siblings. That was too late too, it seemed. "I knew he'd wake them up."

"Get back over here, maybe they'll go back to sleep." Blake said, hoping that they might get lucky, but just as soon as Weiss moved out of sight from her daughter, the chorus of mewing started up again, Bianca loudly and expectantly demanding attention.

"Or not." Weiss deadpanned exhaustedly.

"Because that would be too easy." Blake said offhandedly, going to retrieve the small girl.

"You don't truly intend to keep the sequestered in this room for much longer, do you?" Weiss asked, as she carefully pulled off the fuzzy cotton to inspect her son's ears. He fussed at the action, the small appendages tender to the touch, and to the sounds entering them.

"A few more weeks at the absolute least." Blake said, though her attentions were now diverted almost completely to her cubs, following her usual ritual of marking them with her scent, and feeding them. "Even then, I wouldn't keep them away from the room for long stretches. It's best they stay here, where it's safe."

"Are you implying the rest of the household isn't safe?" Weiss asked, knowing it wasn't just a question of babyproofing the common rooms. There was a note of something else in Blake's voice, and it was easy to notice.

"I'm implying I don't want them to stray far from their place of birth." It was probably silly, but Blake felt it in her bones, and pumping within her blood. It was the right thing to do. Maybe it was simply her heritage, but she felt compelled to listen to her gut instinct. "I told you before, the nest will be where they spend the vast majority of their time for their first year."

"You said that, but I was honestly hoping you were just being dramatic." Weiss said, cradling her eldest in one arm, she settled back down into the blankets with her family. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. It isn't as if they could wander off and get lost."

"That's just it. I know it doesn't make any sense to you. To me, it's just dangerous to let them be away from the place they were born." Blake frowned, her golden eyes lifting from her cubs and over to Weiss earnestly. "They're defenseless, Weiss. If something were to happen, there would be no chance for them to run to safety…and I know that there is no threat, and there shouldn't ever be one…but in my mind, when I so much as think of that…" Blake shook her head at that. "My heart tells me that this is the safe space…and that I shouldn't move them unless I have to."

"I won't pressure you into it." Weiss said. "I just have no idea how you manage not to lose your mind."

"Honestly, I suppose I'm just tired, and I think I've already lost most of it." Blake said then, and that was unquestionably true too.

It was late at night when Weiss had finally gotten around to finishing her work.

Her children had all been tended to with warm baths, fluffy blankets, and full bellies. She kept a baby monitor resting on the edge of her desk just in case Blake needed her help. The only sound that came through loud and clear was a whole lot of sleepy purring. At first, Weiss prided herself on the fact that there wasn't a lot of havoc going on…but then…it began to become a distraction.

Not having Yang around to make racket was a little more than disheartening, although Weiss would never admit that.

Yang had never mastered the idea of being quiet, and Weiss had gotten used to the blonde's way of going about her own workload. Weiss shifted uncomfortably, it would take some getting used to. Ruby had gotten all of Yang's work done, that was without a doubt. She had also left the stack of work sitting for Weiss to stare at. The fact that it was all neat and orderly was the first of many tiny differences between the sisters.

It was perhaps the one thing Weiss was able to drill into Ruby's head during their days in Beacon. Even so, Weiss found herself missing the disorganized piles that Yang would often leave haphazardly strewn around the home office. Weiss bit her lip. Ruby was not, and would never be, the permanent solution to her current problem.

It was one of the many reasons why she had called Pyrrha and her family up to stay in Atlas. Under all technicality, Weiss was her boss, and Pyrrha couldn't refuse when it had to do with her contract. It was likely equally unreasonable to wake the woman up for a late night meeting, but, Weiss considered many things her life unreasonable in the first place.

Still, it didn't make the forthcoming conversation any easier. Weiss compared the news like a bandage, it was best to deal with it quickly, rather than beat around the bush.

"Yang's taking your place in the arena and acting as the new mascot of the SDC." Weiss said abruptly, a glass of cognac swirling idly in her hand. She could have left it at that, let Pyrrha go from the company entirely, and dusted her hands off from the whole unpleasantness…but she truly didn't want to do that. "I'd say it was purely business decision, but I think you know me better than that. You'll finish out this season, but I won't offer to have your contract renewed."

"I don't have a say in this, at all?" Pyrrha asked.

Weiss only shook her head. There were two outcomes that she could see happening because of her bullheadedness, and she had been prepared. "Your performances were always satisfactory in the ring. I wouldn't have had it any other way, but, I wasn't about to relinquish Yang to Coco. She's too good of an employee, and too dear a friend. I had two options, put Yang on a lower paygrade, or put her in the ring. Only one of those choices guarantee to keep her with Yatsuhashi and with the SDC at the same time."

Pyrrha didn't know what to say to that. Her mouth ran dry at the idea that she was so easily replaced. It wasn't clout that bled into her surprise, but rather, a sense of failure. She knew she was an excellent fighter, and that her standings were always among the top ten even during a poor year. In the doubles rounds, her score often pulled Yatsuhashi up by several points. Yang was by no means a slouch, and her abilities in combat were nothing the scoff at…yet even so, failure was failure, true or not.

Her green eyes lifted to blue, her disappointment clear on her face. It echoed in her voice. "There's nothing I could possibly do to change your mind, is there?"

"No." Weiss murmured.

"I didn't think so."

"On paper, you outshine Yang without question." Weiss replied, her words a tiny condolence, but little else. "If my decision came purely from who was most qualified at this moment, then it wouldn't even be a question. You would still maintain your position. However, I have a particular level of integrity to maintain. Business connections imply a great many things. In Yang's case, what she lacks in skill, she more than makes up for by bolstering ongoing connections."

"I see." Pyrrha replied. "Was I not personable enough?"

"You're plenty personable, Pyrrha. You're also happily married. The same cannot be said for Yang." Weiss chided leaning forward and resting her elbow on the arm of her chair. "I didn't make this change to be malicious. I made it because it best suits my sensibilities. Despite our prestige, we are first and foremost a family owned and operated company. In some capacity, those rights and privileges extend to Yang."

"Where does that leave me?" Pyrrha asked, already expecting the worst. She couldn't dare hope for the best, she didn't even know what that would be.

"If I had my way about it, you'd move to Atlas and undertake Yang's old position. Ruby can't maintain it forever, and she's made it clear she has no intention to do so." Weiss said after a moment. "Having you take Yang's place would be convenient. That said, I know how idealistic that is, and that truth be told, it's good for everyone but yourself…I won't pretend it benefits you in any way." She drained her drink with a soundless gulp. "Hell, let's cut the bull. Moving to Atlas would benefit Astrid and Robin more than it could ever truly benefit you."

"I'll have to think about it." Pyrrha said tightly, considering once more than an early retirement might not be so bad. "You know how I feel about moving up here."

"Take your time." Weiss replied, pouring the both of them something more to drink. "If it comes down to it, I can promise you this, you won't leave the SDC empty handed."

The north was cold, but simple. Brutal in that way. Unforgiving in spite of the serenity it offered. Peace was, and would always be, a double edged sword. It seemed as though the people of Atlas were always on borrowed time. At mercy to the elements, their fellow peoples, and even the hunk of rock and ice that their homeland stood upon. It was a fragile balance, with the Grimm threat carving their way through their frozen wasteland, the balance fell into jeopardy.

Winter knew she couldn't stay at the manor for any length of time. The freshly graduated Atlas Academy troops demanded her attention. The female students still involved in the program needed her heavy handed guidance. Ironwood simply needed her in the same way Ozpin needed Glynda, otherwise the very foundation of Atlas in all of its glory would be put at risk.

She couldn't allow herself to sit idly by with so much to do.

Even while knowing all of that, packing her things was a strange affair. Her life was distilled down to a single bag and a footlocker. Anything beyond that simply wasn't needed. It saddened her to gaze upon her room, empty of creature comforts and personal touches. She never kept much because she never needed to. It was sad…and frankly, it was lonely.

She never could seem to get over how different this room was from the rest of the house. Several other rooms had been warmed by the touches of daily life, and of people that could never be replaced. Artifacts of those tender memories, as inconsequential as they might have seemed, were the only foundation left to glue the Schnee name to its pedestal. Yet, that era seemed to be dying out, flickering as little more than embers on their history.

Time, her worst enemy, would eventually tell the story of this new era in the Schnee family. Until then, she was unable to do anything. Only waiting, watching from afar, and hoping that her silent prayers would be enough. Her eyes flicked over to Weiss, and felt guilt stab into her chest, the same as it always seemed to do. It was true that Winter was needed elsewhere, but it was also true that Weiss needed her to stay here as well.

"It never gets easier, does it?" Winter asked as she surveyed the area one final time. "We've done this song and dance so many times, it might as well be tradition. Yet, it still doesn't lessen your burdens at all."

"No." Weiss said simply. "Perhaps not, but, don't forget, they're mine to bear."

"You love to remind me of that." Winter replied a little more coldly than she would have liked. If she didn't know any better, she would have assumed Weiss harbored resentment, but, she did know better. She knew all too well. "You're right though. They're not my burdens, Weiss. Even so, that doesn't mean I wouldn't help you, if only you'd ask."

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, but shut it immediately. A soft laugh, almost a sad one, graced the air. "Be that as it may, you know just as well as I do, I'd never ask that of you. These are my shackles, Winter, not yours. It's my company, and this is my home…although, you're always free to come and go as you please. If you want to retire from the military, don't let me stop you."

"As if you could." Winter shot back, just the tiniest hint of a smirk on her lips. They locked eyes, cold blue against cold blue. Matching sets that softened at the same time. "I would have liked to have stayed longer, but I'd only be putting off the inevitable. I'm needed elsewhere, as you know."

"Indeed." Weiss didn't let her feelings betray her. "That always seems to be the case."

"Well, I expect you'll write often. I want to be informed of the situation around here." Winter murmured. "Oh, and please try not to torture our father."

Weiss nodded. Her features were schooled to a perfect mask of indifference. The first time Winter had left, Weiss found herself reduced to a total mess. She had cried for days over the emptiness she felt. Part of it was due to her youth, but age and life had hardened her. Perhaps, in the grand scheme, that's what made saying goodbye to her elder sister all the more complicated. It was never an easy thing, although they both pretended it was.

There were always so many things Weiss wanted to say, and so many more she would never be able to. She choose not to remain fixated on such topics. "Where will Ironwood be sending you this time?"

"That's classified." The eldest spoke softly.

"Ah." Weiss fidgeted around with the clasps buckling the backpack closed. It was easier than pressing for answers Winter wasn't at liberty to speak. Finally, she licked her lips. "I don't ask, because I know I would receive. We ask so little of each other. As a result, requests almost always have to be honored. I always assumed that to be a sign of weakness, but, particular events have forced me to give a new perspective on the way I look at our relationship."

"Oh?" Winter voiced softly.

"Ruby and Yang have rubbed off on me, I suppose. I've always wanted a relationship with you closer to what they have. I understand now that what you and I have cultivated comes strictly from our upbringing." Weiss hesitated for a moment before smiling. "Frankly speaking, running this company is a complete pain in my ass. I've always wanted you to be there, running it at my side. It would be, as you say, less burdensome that way."

"Then why haven't you?"

"If I ask, you'll feel obligated." Weiss stated. "I know you hate it here."

"I don't hate it here." Winter said with a soft laugh. "What I hate, I suppose if you could call it that, is my own cowardice. I'm unlike you, Weiss. When I was younger, I was afraid. I didn't understand why Atlas was so different from Vale. I was angry that men were favored. It terrified me that I wasn't worth anything in the public eye. That I needed a man to even be noticed at all. It...bothered me."

"Winter, that's crazy. you had to have known it then, too."

"I didn't have that kind of foresight." Winter told her. "I was so sure that my own merits wouldn't mean anything. I figured I'd have to fight for them, and the best way to do that was to join the military. I assumed that it was the only way I stood a chance in Atlas as an independent woman. Being married off scared me more than I could put into words, so, I hid behind the one unrelated man I knew I could blindly trust."

"Ironwood…" Weiss nodded. "It makes sense, we've known the man ever since we were children."

"He was my headmaster at the time. Along with my usual respect for him, at the time we had developed something of mentor-student relationship. I knew that if I enlisted, Ironwood would have to keep me close at hand. He wouldn't have a choice. I felt safe knowing that." It was a sad admission indeed, one that came with equal amounts of shame and disappointment. "It just so happened that he grew used to keeping me so close, and I grew more valuable to him as time went on."

Weiss could only frown, the weight of her sister's words feeling heavy. "I never knew..."

"I never wanted you to know. I was afraid you'd see me as disappointment if you knew the truth." Letting out a long, slow breath, she reached for Weiss, and placed a hand on her shoulder."I didn't turn down the company because I didn't want it. I turned it down because I was afraid of what I was going to become. I don't regret that decision. I only regret leaving you alone to deal with the aftermath."

"Honestly, it's probably for the best that things turned out the way they did." Weiss glanced up to Winter in that moment. "You're obviously slated to take his place once he retires, it's clear he wants you to. Ironwood wouldn't have trained you so thoroughly otherwise."

"I don't know about that, Weiss." Winter sighed. "I don't think I could handle that kind of power."

"I don't think you have much of a choice." Weiss shot back. "Power like ours comes with the bloodline. I think we might be cursed."

"Perhaps so. The thought has crossed my mind." Winter allowed, a strange sort of sternness ebbing into her voice softly. "I'll return for a visit when I can, Weiss. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can promise."

To her credit, Weiss didn't let herself feel anything more than acceptance as she nodded her head. "Well, then I suppose that'll have to be enough."