Disclaimer: The Elric Saga belongs to Micharl Moorcock, and RWBY belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.
This Day in Melniboné Part 1
A human of Remnant named Weiss Schnee dreamed of living in a white castle with green yards and rainbow gardens where she had an adorable little brother to dote on, an impressive older sister to follow, smiling and caring parents to love, and a giant of a grandfather to admire and aspire to.
An Imrryrian of Melniboné named Wycylla Skorldt awoke from a drug-induced slumber to a thickly-incensed bedchamber festooned with supernaturally-detailed tapestries and flowing over with heavy sorcerous grimoires swimming among rivers of arcane parchment scrolls.
A slight shift of two of the four arms around her waist served to remind her that she was sharing her bed with a Faunus and two human half-sisters, named Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, and Ruby Rose.
Her three personal slaves.
The intrusive thought tugged at her conscience like an alarm clock to an unconscious mind.
It's too early for this.Wycylla used her right hand to mime removing a mask, but slowly, so as to allow Ruby more time for sweet dreams.
Her fingers lingered on her cheeks and forehead, as if in sorrowful hesitation, before finally coming away with a shuddering gasp from the budding young woman, who then looked upon her bedmates with bittersweet eyes.
Not my slaves, not really,Weiss reminded herself.They are my teammates; myfriends.
It was a very good thing for them that they were her friends above all else and only acted like her slaves in public, for had the three been slaves like any other in the Dragon Isle of Melniboné, and she like any other Melnibonéan, they would never have been allowed to indulge in such privileges as sharing their mistress's luxurious pavilion bed with her, let alone be garbed in the meanwhile.
That last thought failed to even elicit a blush from Weiss, as she focused her efforts on returning to blissful sleep, so that she could escape the nightmare of being Wycylla for another hour at least.
But her stirring, as soft and considerate for her companions' comfort as she could make it, was still enough to pull them from their own heavenly slumbers into consciousness, where they each found in each other a brief haven of peace.
"Morning, Weissicle," Yang heartily teased.
"As much as I've grown to miss your puns, I could do without that one forever, thank you." Right now, she just wanted to be Weiss again.
A feline ear flicked against her scalp. "Feels like forever since we got here, though," Blake worried.
Their involuntary journey through the Multiverse had landed them in Imrryr scarcely more than a month before but already they felt as though more than a year had passed, as the utter shock and terror at the degenerate evil on such blatantly public display everywhere they'd gone had by now subsided to a resigned horror at how casually constantly they witnessed its execution.
"Don't worry, Weiss, we won't be here forever, you'll get us home," Ruby nuzzled her, brushing against one of the heiress's altered ears and cheekbones that accentuated and displayed her distant heritage.
Weiss smiled and delicately brushed her closest friend's hair as she breathed in the smell of roses that always emanated from it - a gesture others would mistake as romantic, but was understood by the interdimensionally-waylaid Team RWBY as a desperate ploy by the blancette to keep a grip on her fraying sense of self as Weiss Schnee.
"I hope you all had good dreams," Weiss inquired as she sat up back against the pillows piled against the headboard of the bed.
"That goes without saying," Yang answered, stretching out her arms. "It's just about the only reason this place hasn't driven me crazy."
"We should still be careful that we don't get too used to using Melniboné's dream drugs every night" Blake warned. "They could be used against us while we're here, and we won't have them when we get home."
"Blake," Ruby softly responded, "when we get home, it will be such a dream come true, we'll never need them again."
Weiss couldn't help but chuckle at how corny Ruby sounded. "Now I know that you and Yang are sisters."
Ruby gasped in mock horror as she clutched at Weiss. "How dare you! My sense of humor is nothing like my dumb sister's!"
"Blake! Help me, my sister hates me!" Yang dramatized, hugging Blake.
"Yang, stop clinging to me like a wet cat," Blake grumbled whimsically. "I'm the cat here, remember?"
All four were now thoroughly infected with bouts of good humor, putting Weiss's mind at ease. It was a beautiful moment of true peace and happiness, allowing Weiss to relax and simply be herself.
A self that, at the sound of politely impatient knocking on the bedchamber double doors, once more had to be put aside.
"My lady, are you awake?" Came the voice of her appointed "babysitter."
Weiss's friends cast sour expressions of distaste towards the baleful interruption at the door before turning looks of pained sympathy toward her. She could only look back at them with sad resignation, whispering a quiet goodbye.
Then she mimed with her left hand the act of putting on a mask, and she became Wycylla Skorldt once more, another lifetime of experience settling into place at the forefront of her mind.
The loving expressions on three faces slipped into mere recognition at the change behind the blancette's eyes, who looked upon them with an imperious doting expression. The other three girls' faces then took on placid and demure fixtures as their bearers reassumed their unhappy guise of servitude, making her heart sore at the sight.
Another meddlesome bang at the door. "Are you awake?"
"Only because I have to be, dear Krayks," Wycylla sat up from her pillows, carressing the gorgeously nubile forms blanketing her as she lifted her sapphire eyes at the sound of the opened doorway to rest them on a robed bald man.
The man sighed at the state of Wycylla's room, bending down to lift one of the tomes left open on the floor, obscene geometries displayed opposite the explanation for their intricacies. "As much as it warms my old heart to see someone pursuing the mysteries of magic with such vigorous aplomb, I do wish you would show more propriety in how you handle these texts-" he gave an indignant snort "-and your slaves."
"I'll concede to your wisdom on the texts, but when it comes to these?" Wycylla smirked at him, pulling Ruby into her lap, Yang following from behind Blake to join her sister, while Blake herself was pulled to Wycylla's shoulder, as she scratched behind her ears. "They are the only luxury I have in this world that is mine, and mine alone. So unless the Emperor has something to say on the matter, I shall keep their company however I like."
Blake gave her a kiss on her neck, right below her jaw. Wow, she's never done that before, Wycylla thought.
Krayks, being more inured to his erstwhile charge's eccentricities now than he had been a month prior, simply sighed again, as if it were his favorite pastime. "The Emperor says nothing on your fraternization only because they cannot sully the Royal line. I do hope you understand that, because I don't want to lose such a promising adept over something so banal as slaves."
Wycylla felt Ruby stiffen somewhat, a hand clutching at her nightgown out of the man's sight. She rubbed up and down the silver-eyed girl's back to soothe her. "Don't worry. I understand perfectly."
"Good," Krayks acknowledged. "And speaking of the Emperor, don't forget that you and your slaves must appear in Court today. He wants to show the world how strong Melniboné will remain millennia from now, even in other spheres."
"As well as to shore up morale for when Melniboné goes to war against Quarzhasatt," Wycylla reluctantly untangled herself from the human netting to crawl off the bed.
"You too can sense the rising war tides, then?" Krayks noted as he watched Wycylla expertly navigate the strewn about papers with little notice on her way to her armoire, the three slaves right behind, ready to attend her.
"How couldn't I?" Wycylla opened mirror-set doors to her armoire full of bought and borrowed Melnibonéan fashion, and selected a long gown of navy blue embroidered with golden filigree that outlined the shoulders, torso, and even the biceps and forearms of its black sleeves.
"8000 years is a long time for a single power to remain dominant over a world, so it has to put down challengers in order to maintain it. Quarzhasatt is merely the latest." Her helpers immediately got to work preparing her for the day as she undressed herself, Ruby threw the dressing screen between her and Krayks, Yang assembled the dress on her, and Blake set about applying makeup to her face to make it even more marblelike in its pale shine and sharp edges.
"Why Quarzhasaat?" Krayks tested. He loved to test her. "Why not Lormyr to the South, or the Purple Towns in the East?"
"Don't patronize me with such obvious nonsense," Wycylla scoffed, as she finished putting on the undergarments for the dress Yang was ready to put on her.
"Lormyr is too dependent on trade with Melniboné to risk losing it in a failed assault, and the Purple Towns have nowhere near the sorcery required to even contemplate war."
During her lecture, she checked in the mirror to ensure Blake's makeup work made her look elegantly formidable like the other ladies of Court, and from among the jewelry Ruby presented, selected a pair of dangling topaz earrings, an obsidian hairpiece with an inset amethyst, and a silver choker that held a teardrop ruby.
"Quarzhasaat, however, has already conquered all of the parts of the Northern continent that are worth taking, and the only real obstacle standing between them and the other continents to the West and South is Melniboné."
Yang helped Wycylla into her elaborate dress, making sure it was snugly fit, while Blake applied final touches of makeup and Ruby braided her hair through the chosen hairpiece while Wycylla herself put on the necklace and earrings, and finally strapped her beloved blade Myrtenaster at her side.
"All of which is to say nothing of how they've been exponentially proactive in delving into sorcery as of late, and their merchants have become increasingly belligerent, but many in Melniboné feel that the Dragon Isle has grown soft lately, and that some action must be taken in order to remind the world that we still rule it."
The other girls' hands came away as they took in their work, and then stepped aside as they removed the screen separating the two Melnibonéans.
"So, to turn the question back to you, don't ask 'Why Quarzhasaat?' But, 'Why not Quarzhasaat?'"
Wycylla did not miss the tiny widening in Krayks's eyes at her reveal, and smiled in wholehearted satisfaction. Her friends recognized the smile and stealthily bumped each other's fists in congratulations.
Krayks stood silent for a brief moment, but then threw the bedchamber door all the way open and stood to the side with a smile and bowed head. "I do think you'll be ready to meet the Emperor as soon as you have had your morning meal."
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Wycylla agreed, stepping out into the hallway, slaves processing behind. "I can only imagine the humiliation of having a growling stomach while standing before the Ruby Throne. One might rather die than suffer the laughter of the Court."
"The last one from a few centuries ago did just that," Krayks humorously remarked, closing the door behind them. "It still gets a laugh today."
Wycylla found the humor too cliche, replying only with "I see," in a flat tone.
Her three attendants said and did nothing about black joke, and allowed it to simply be compounded in their minds with all of their other experiences.
When they came near the dining room, Wycylla remembered that she and the three weren't alone, and so, disappointed of being deprived a private pleasure, she turned and informed them that they had to go elsewhere for breakfast.
"It's not proper for slaves to eat with their masters," she had to explain in front of Krayks.
They said nothing, but they clearly communicated how downcast they were at this, and simply walked away.
Weiss's regret welled up at the back of her mind as she watched her friends walk away, then Wycylla turned from the slaves to ready herself for a boring morning mealtime.