A/N: This chapter came quickly, and I know that this chapter has pacing issues. I had intended this scene to last a single chapter and it's going to be three by the time it's done but I had an absolute revelation with Adam and I feel like his dialogue crackles. Hope you had a good holiday season, a happy New Year, and look forward to getting your feedback on my work.
In his 53 years of life, Jacques Schnee had never once shaken hands with a Faunus. He could be polite. engaged, benevolent even. but he could never bring himself to offer such a gesture of respect: not to them. He had an image to maintain to his investors. He also knew that his life as a business mogul, political candidate, and open critic of the Atlesean Council's most prominent member, every move he made would be heavily scrutinized if not recorded.
Which is why, in front of Clover, Qrow and Ironwood, Jacques put on a campaigner smile and reached out a hand toward Adam the moment he exited his vehicle.
"It's good to see you again, Adam," he said.
Adam took his hand and shook it heartily, falling into the charade. "You as well, sir."
Weiss feel into character with alarming ease. She handed her bag off to the driver before throwing her arms around her father's neck in a public embrace. He dutifully returned the hug and ushered into the back of the car, followed closely by Adam.
Ironwood said nothing, exchanging only a silent glare with the dust mogul for a moment before ducking into the open door the chauffer was holding for him.
From the inside of the limousine, Weiss was having a difficult time gauging how Adam was processing everything. The man responsible for his poverty, his scar, his personal hell, and the oppression of the Faunus was picking him up in his lavish car no doubt bought with the sweat and misery of his people. How was he processing this? Before, he'd been able to separate Weiss from her last name because she was detached from it in some way: she was in his camp at his mercy. Now, he was the one detached and she was thrust back into her own context. Would interacting with her father impact his opinion of her? His eye and mouth were stoic an unreadable but she thought his jaw looked a little tense.
Jacques took his seat and both of them immediately straightened their posture. The car pulled away and Weiss could have sworn Adam's jaw clenched a little tighter. Perfectly relaxed, the smile fell from his face into a confident sneer. He opened a compartment and produced a bottle of whiskey and a glass, not even caring to offer a glass to his fellow passengers. They were well off the base and Jacques had finished his first glass before he spoke.
"I suppose you plan on making a further spectacle of yourself; luckily, my publicist has minimized the risk you and you... bodyguard have brought on my image."'
"It's good to see you, too, Father," Weiss returned his energy with her own air of superiority. "Being kidnapped by the White Fang, forced into slavery, suffering abuse at the hands of a terrorist organization for almost a year. If it weren't for your tireless efforts and resources, I may never have been found…"
"That's not the narrative either of us have faced to the public and you'd be a fool to try and spin that yarn now. The re-entrance at the Gala was the best you could have done given the circumstances."
Weiss snorted "Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I'd never come back while under your conservatorship? All you care about is profits and perception: did it even occur how terrible it would have looked if I had gone from record deals and inheriting the family business to completely invisible?"
"I figured I would have done the same thing I did with your mother. I'll just attribute the mental breakdown to your PTSD instead of post-partum." He spoke. so casually about it; as if it were a vacation spot that had rained out and he already a contingency to book a hotel elsewhere. She knew he'd successfully taken the family business from her, but this was the first time he'd openly admitted to how.
It took every ounce of Weiss' self-control to not launch across the car's interior and beat her own father within an inch of his life. Jacques took another sip of his bourbon, unaffected by her glares. "In my defense, I had every reason to believe you'd run away and were perfectly safe hiding from me and your responsibilities."
"A belief you made no attempt to verify. You left me to suffer while you gave my inheritance to Whitley and now you expect me to bolster your image."
"You went missing from our family estate through an escape route known only to the family: there was no sign of forced entry and later there was no ransom demand or public execution. I had no indication that you'd left under duress."
Adam and Weiss exchanged a glance. They both knew it wasn't true, but did he actually believe that?
"All of that matters little now. You're back, and I know how much your lifestyle requires my money. I'm sure you tried extra hard to make me hemorrhage lien while you two were in Argus, but going forward, if you want to touch the family money, we'll need to lay down some expectations. However, it's still early. We'll have brunch"
He always did this. He had to establish dominance in some petty way: be it home or business. The CEO was infamous for deliberately turning down the air conditioning to make others cold, sitting people he didn't like so the sun would be in their faces, rescheduling at the last minute with an 'emergency' he had known about weeks in advance. As a father, he was just as manipulative, from placating their mother with wine to keep her out of the picture to delaying uncomfortable conversations with food or business trips: he only met with others on his terms and when he was holding the good cards. Brunch was not a gesture of goodwill with him, it was a reminder that he dictated the timeline and the topics of conversation.
The car pulled to the front of the estate and for a moment, Weiss felt the muscles in her chest tighten. She felt gloved fingers reach in and tighten around her hand. She looked at Adam to see his brow furrowed. He was nervous about this as well. There wasn't any sort of imminent physical danger they were in. Even with the aura dampener concealed underneath the mandarin collar of his shirt, he was still physically formidable, and Weiss with aura and weapon could easily overpower whatever guards with which her father may try to detain her. But to accomplish what they wanted, they needed a quiet, diplomatic looking resolution and if they had to use any kind of force, it would shatter their plans.
A polite, but unfamiliar servant opened the door to escort the three of them out.
"It's good to have you back, Miss Schnee," he said with all the warmth of a plastic dummy.
"It's a pleasure," she replied with equal fakeness. Adam followed next and Jacques himself exited to escort them up the stone steps to the manor's entrance.
Whitley was in the foyer at the top of the staircase, looking down on them both literally and metaphorically. His look had changed drastically in the year she was gone, looking less like a fifteen-year-old preppy theater brat, and looking more like a young business tycoon. He'd started wearing his hair combed back like his fathers instead of the boyish side part he'd had since childhood. He also had finally gotten over his obsession with fashion vests and had graduated to suit coats. He was only sixteen, but he was trying too hard to look more like an adult and less like a high school student.
He looked like Jacques.
Weiss hated it. She and Whitley had never been close due to their father's blatant favoritism towards his only son and the sheer difference in personality, but she inwardly lamented how much like his father he was turning out to be, secretly wondering if her absence had accelerated the process.
"At first, I didn't believe it when Father said you were returning home," he said as he descended the stairs. How he managed to make walking downstairs look pretentious, Weiss never knew, but here he was, pulling off. "It is good to have you back, Sister." It sounded almost as scripted as when the servant had said it not thirty seconds earlier, but he at least sounded genuine.
"It's been a long time," Weiss said, making no further attempt to approach him. They'd never been an outwardly affectionate family.
A servant came and bowed lightly. "I can have your things brought up to your old bedroom if you would like," she said.
"Yes, please. We'll both be staying in my room, so you can take everything there."
Whitley clearly wasn't expecting that, frowning in disapproval.
The poor servant girl looked to Weiss, then to her father to make sure he approved of such a thing under his roof. When she was unable to catch his eye, she stammered out a brief. "Of course, ma'am. I'll have everything brought up," before scurrying away.
"Where's Klein?" Weiss asked, assuming he would be the first to greet her once she got through the door.
"Father let Klein go shortly after you left." Whitley said matter-of-factly. "As you can probably see, the dust embargos and the campaign have impacted our income for the past two years. We had to cut some of the staff. It's tragic. We're down to only a single cake butler now."
He'd only spoken twice and Adam already hated him. Why couldn't Sienna Khan have sent him to assassinate this smug, condescending pretty-boy?
Jacques approached the three of them. "Brunch will be served on the terrace, and I've even seen to it your mother will be in attendance," he said brusquely. "Whitley, you'll be in attendance as well."
"Of course, Father," Whitley immediately simpered, giving a small, but dramatic bow as he pulled out from their presence to go his own way.
"I'll also have some business that I'll be attending to before then, if you and…Mr. Taurus could make yourselves busy." He walked past them toward the north wing on the first floor, most likely toward his private study. How he could be so nonchalant with the situation made Weiss wonder if he knew something she didn't. Clearly, he was quite secure that having her back on the manor grounds would solve all his problems, but he was rarely one to underestimate his competition. He was always a chess player: thinking of a counter to every move his opponent could make and he must have a strategy in mind if he was willing to delay their conversation and leave them unattended.
Adam watched him closely until he was completely out of sight before returning his attention to Weiss.
"He seems unconcerned by our presence," Adam said.
"Even if he wasn't sure he had everything under control, he'd keep a straight face," Weiss assured him. The stood for an awkward moment in the foyer before Weiss decided to change the subject. "Since we have time, would you like me to give you a tour?"
Adam gave her a subtle smile. "I'd like that. I didn't get to see much on my last visit here."
It took a solid ten seconds for Weiss to make out what he was insinuating. "That's awful!" She said without any sincerity. She took his hand. "Well, since you're here legally, I'd like to show you my home." She started off in the opposite direction of her father's study, heading southward on the main floor.
No one bothered them as she directed him through the main dining hall, the kitchens, and eventually the library. He followed her as she pointed out intricacies of the architecture, advancements the home had or childhood memories she had associated with the places. The north wing contained everything related to her father's business: his private office, his conference room, and the archive room he kept business documents carefully documented away. Weiss had few memories in this wing of the house, and none of them were pleasant.
Returning to the foyer, they ascended the stairs to the second floor, choosing to explore the north wing first, skipping occupied servants' quarters and moving instead to one of the rooms Weiss liked most in the house: the drawing room, complete with paned windows covered with elegant drapes, area carpeting, piano and lounging furniture.
"I took vocal and piano," she said, grazing her hands across the lid on the recital grand piano. "Winter was never interested in music and Whitley took saxophone for a bit, but I was the only one who really took to it." The shiny black surface was free from dust, but the way the lid stuck when she lifted it to uncover the keys indicated no one had touched it since she last practiced for the charity concert a little over a year ago. She sat gingerly on the bench. "I was shocked my dad was so supportive of me pursuing something I knew I'd never need to take over the family business. I know now he saw the value of having a wind-up doll he could parade out at company gatherings and at charity balls. It was useful to him." She sighed.
Adam slid on the bench next to her. "Your love of music has nothing to do with his foul intentions. Don't let him being exploitative ruin something you're passionate about." He kissed her temple. "Play me something."
She gingerly put her fingers on the keys, swing her legs fully under the piano to reach the pedals. Her fingers pressed down and out came dissonance from the piano. She recoiled, looking at her hands and repositioning them to make sure she had started off right. It had been a while since she'd done this, after all. The notes again clashed. She removed her hands entirely from the keyboard and pulled the cover over it. "They must not be heating this room in the winter. It's come out of tune. I'll have the servants fix it." She stood hastily, Adam following her after pushing the bench back in.
Once in the main hall, Weiss flagged down a servant and ordered a tuner be called immediately. The servant curtsied and continued on her way. Adam noted the staff were willing to take orders from Weiss, indicating she still had some agency here.
She took his hand once again. "There's one more room I want to show you before we have to go down." The north wing terminated in a large room with enormous cathedral arched windows set high in the walls, streaming light from above. The north wall itself with a stained glass bearing the Schnee family crest. Perhaps when it was first constructed, the room had been a type of ballroom, but it had long ago been stripped bare of any furniture or fixtures. The room had no artificial lighting and the lack of soft surfaces cause every step within the room to echo. At the front, on a slightly raised platform sat five enormous suits of armor clearly designed to be animated for training use.
"This is where Winter and I bonded. Where we found our love of the sword together," Weiss said proudly showing off the empty space. "I know it's not like the dojo, and I know it's not pretty, but this, more than any other room in the house made me what I am. And here…." She stepped into a specific spot on the training floor. "Here is where I got my scar."
Adam put his hands on her waist, leaned forward, and kissed her scar, then her lips.
Gripped with a sudden primal fear, Weiss pushed him away. "Adam, stop. Not here." She knew it was irrational. She had all but announced to the entire household they'd be sleeping in the same bed tonight, but in some ways, she still felt like a teenager that needed to sneak around her parents when she brought a boy over.
He was completely unperturbed, pulling back to smirk at her. "Not here? How about here?" he leaned in and this time kissed her neck. "…or here?" he sank his teeth gently into her ear.
Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she put her hands on his pecs and pushed him away with both her hands. "Please…we can take all night to celebrate once this is over, but I…I want to keep my focus on the plan. And this…this isn't helping."
Seeing how serious she was, he checked his behavior, keeping himself at arms' length and changing his demeanor. "I get it. No distractions. Not yet, at least."
"Exactly, not yet." Weiss pulled out her scroll and looked at it. "We should get down to the terrace. It's time. I'm sure my father will make us wait, but…we're not playing that game."
Adam nodded. "Lead the way." As she led him back into the main atrium of the house and out the back toward their terraced yard, he couldn't help but reminisce on his first time here. Sienna Khan had sent him to devastate the SDC by killing its heir and now, he was after a year going to destroy the SDC by restoring her.
Her hair had been gently curled and tied to cascade over her right shoulder, and despite her clothing and makeup being carefully selected and procured to the level of the lady of the household, Willow Schnee looked awful. No amount of makeup could cover the gaunt expression of her alcoholism: the sunken cheeks, bloodshot eyes and lifeless facial expression told the world the true story, regardless of how well kempt she tried to look to keep up appearances, the scene looking all the more hypocritical as she nursed a half-full glass of merlot.
When Weiss and Adam arrived on the terrace, she was sitting alone among the servants bustling about to put food on the glass table. Weiss almost cried when she saw her mother, but approached her with optimism. At least she was still hanging in there.
"Mom?"
Willow looked up, squinting into the sunlight. It took a few moments for her to register the reality of what was happening. "Weiss? Darling! You're home?" She stood, leaking on the glass table for support as she approached her daughter and put her arms around her in a hug. "Where have you been? We didn't know what happened to you! I was worried sick!"
"It's a long story, but I'm back for a visit. I won't be staying very long, but I'm ok." She squeezed her mother back, the familiar scent of her perfume mingled with wine faintly emanating off her. She wished she could get her mom far away from this place, but there were bigger things at stake than her mother's toxic marriage. Weiss promised herself that when all of this business was over with Salem, she'd return and get her mother some real help.
Her mother pulled back to get a look at her. "You changed your hair. I like it."
Weiss permitted herself a smile. "Thanks, mom."
Willow then spied Adam standing behind them. "And who is this gentleman?"
"Oh, this is Adam….my boyfriend," Weiss figured it would just simplify things if she referred to him as such. "Adam, my mother, Willow."
Willow held out a hand for him to take. "Is he a faunus?" she asked out loud to no one in particular.
"Yes, ma'am," Adam said taking her hand and shaking it. "I'm a former employee of the SDC, I now do freelance work. I assisted in your daughter's return to Atlas. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You as well. Won't you have a seat?"
The three of them took their seats at the table just as Whitely and Jacques appeared from the main house.
"I can see you started earlier than usual today," Jacques muttered to his wife as he took his seat at the head of the table.
Willow said nothing. She just looked at her lap, defeated.
The servants began removing lids from the food and began serving. The fare was typical brunch food: eggs, frittatas, sausage, bacon and an endless supply of bread options.
For the first ten minutes, they made painfully small talk, commenting on the food, the upcoming election, Whitley's intention to graduate early, and a few other things that didn't matter at all. The four Schnees carried on as if this was perfectly normal for behavior at mealtimes: to ask nothing of consequence but act as if it was interesting to prevent any real meaningful conversations from happening that might provoke feelings. Adam couldn't keep up and simply stayed completely silent until Willow addressed him directly.
"You say you used to work for the SDC, Adam. What was it that you did?"
He took a moment to think about his answer. "I worked in Atlas Mine #1 when I was a child. Since we were smaller and had smaller hands, we were usually responsible for cleaning the machinery that had small working parts or delicate wiring."
Jacques turned to Weiss. "Perhaps he won't be so off-putting to the investors," he said. "Some random faunus bum would have made it look like you were dating him just to spite me, but a former SDC employee and one with a…" he looked at Adam's eye patch. "…disability dating my daughter would look favorably. It might even boost my approval rating with the non-SDC employee faunus in Mantle."
Weiss saw something in Adam's eye snap. He put his drink down, and took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking. "Actually, it's not a disability. My injury has impacted my field of vision in my left eye a little bit, and it's a little sensitive to bright lights ,but I can still see out of it. The damage is mostly just cosmetic." He pulled up on his eyepatch and removed it entirely from his head, letting the rest of the family see the scar, bearing their family legacy across his face. He set the patch down next to his plate on the table, indicating he had no intention of putting it back on. His lips curled into an arrogant smirk as the family looked at the lettering imprinted over his brow and the deep red of his damaged sclera. Weiss gave a nod of approval. "I used to wear a cloth mask over both eyes, but Weiss got me this patch in Argus which I think I like better. It's made of a fabric that dampens the light coming in, so I can still see out of it, but from the outside is completely opaque so it covers the scars." He spoke casually, just as the mindless banter they exchanged before the conversation took an awkward turn.
While Jacques recoiled at the sight before him in disgust, Willow's eyes welled up with tears in sympathy. The most impacted by it however was Whitely. This was something so beyond his understanding, it contorted his face into an expression of utter confusion. Nothing his mind could imagine could explain what was happening in front of him.
"How did it happen?" Whitely asked.
"The site manager of Mine #1 took a fire brand and held it against my face because I fought him putting it on my back," Adam explained bluntly. "I was eight years old."
Whitley looked to his father in disbelief. He sought some confirmation that this was a lie, something to ruin his run for office, some racket to extort them for money. When Jacques stood quickly and asked if Weiss and Adam would like to take their coffee in the study so they could get right to business, he knew it was true, and Weiss could see in his eyes that he was crushed.
Father was his hero: and now, Whitley got a glimpse of who he really was. Not a good father who sometimes got frustrated and made empty threats, but a man who only cared about money and didn't care how he got it.
Good. He needed to know what their father's true colors were.
His desire to move to the study was also expedient. Weiss and Adam dismissed themselves politely to follow her father indoors, Adam choosing to take his patch with him, but not put it back on.
The instant Jacques entered his study he poured himself a drink and sat behind his desk, adjusting his computer monitor and chair to make himself comfortable. He made no offer for the two of them to sit, but they took their seats opposite his desk and faced him.
"I think it's time we stop delaying the inevitable," Jacques said, the pompousness in his voice completely gone and replaced with a gravity and business approach. "You clearly want to be free of the conservatorship and still have a small portion of the family wealth and I still want to maintain a good image as a business owner and family man to secure my election to the council. I, of course, could merely invoke the conservatorship and have you sent to a mental facility, but that would look horrible for my campaign, but I also need some method of guarantee you will not be airing our family's dirty laundry for all to see so you can ruin me out of spite. As you are a Schnee and entitled to some portion of the estate, what can I offer you that will ensure your silence and not force my hand into forcefully silencing you?"
Weiss' face hardened. She and Adam had been planning this conversation for weeks, since their train ride on the Argus Limited. Despite knowing the risk such a demand would pose, she took a deep breath and spoke, her voice remaining steady and confident.
"You can offer me my freedom from the conservatorship, reinstate me as the heiress of the company, and resign your position as CEO of the Schnee Dust Company to allow a true Schnee to take the helm. Oh, and I want the manor. You can take the staff and move to one of the other properties you own, perhaps the one in Argus, but I want Schnee Manor to live in and your undying support on all faces to the media."
Her father scoffed. "I'm not sure what delusional world you live in, but those sound like the demands of a spoiled, entitled child."
"No, they sound like the demands of someone who has lived under your abusive hand for decades and has spent the last several weeks carefully compiling evidence that will bury you in legal trouble up to your pretentious mustache and ruin any attempt you had at running for public office if you don't take a step back and realize I'm willing to follow through on these threats."
"No you won't," Jacques snorted, a small gesture in his shoulders as he spoke indicated he did not understand the gravity of what she was threatening. "Legal and criminal trouble will only tie up all our family money in the courts, and if we lose it all, there goes your pampered way of life. Just by the credit card bills I've received this month, I can tell your standard of living is still high as ever and you won't do anything to jeopardize that."
Weiss sat back in her chair, growing more relaxed. "I'm a huntress and lived as a slave of the White Fang for almost a year. I don't need these creature comforts as much as you need your public image." She removed a small thumb drive from her pocket and handed it to her father. "I've sent a copy of all of these documents as well as a recorded interview to Lisa Lavender. If I'm not back on the military base by this time tomorrow, she'll release it to the world and there goes your company, your good standing with the 'investors', and probably the generational wealth you've been siphoning off Mother like it was your own as you are sued into oblivion only for the Atlesean courts to bring you in and try you for crimes that would put you behind bars for the rest of your life. I'm sure James Ironwood would love nothing more than to find a reason to remove you entirely from your run for office. And if you think I wouldn't destroy my family legacy and drag our name through the mud, I should remind you that Schnee is my family name, not yours, and I'm capable of restoring it in a way you would never be."
Adam spoke up. "If you're wondering what's on the drive, it's the medical records of the thousands of untreated, misdiagnosed, or covered up injuries of faunus that worked in your mines over the past thirty years as well as an internal investigation citing Atlesean code violation for the cause of the explosion in Mine #2 that caused the deaths of forty-seven faunus lives and the absolute pittance they were paid in exchange for their signatures on NDAs. There's also the tax fraud, the memos instructing site managers not to promote faunus, countless instance of wage theft, and the exact number of company mandated pregnancy terminations occurring at each mining site to prevent female workers from getting paid maternity leave or filing sexual assault charges against their human superiors."
At first, the business mogul simply stared at the drive. Based on the information they'd revealed, he knew they weren't bluffing, but he also considered the possibility that he had good enough lawyers to fight every one of these charges. But to fight them, he'd have to admit the accusations were there, and in so doing, bring unwanted attention at the height of his approval rating only a week before the election. After considering every possibility, he sighed.
He'd been had.
"And if I give you this: the company, the conservatorship and the manor, you'll ensure none of this reaches the public eye?"
"Not a peep." Weiss promised him. "You'll be free to be elected to the council and continue your measuring contest with Ironwood until Atlas collapses back to the earth. I only want my family's legacy to be restored to what it ought to be."
He thought for a moment before reaching for his desk phone and pulling the receiver off the cradle. "Iris. Please contact my lawyer. My contract lawyer. I need to have him draw up a few documents. Today if possible."