Hmmm.
I'm going to try to write Whitley. This is probably going to be a challenge for me, but I really want to try this. Hopefully, I can make this work.
Omake: Frost
Whitley wasn't blind.
He knew his father wasn't exactly the most well loved persona in Remnant. He had eavesdropped on enough meetings and survived through enough "family dinners" to understand that. Anyone who didn't realise his father was an arrogant, selfish prick after that would not have survived in Father's presence as long as Whitley had.
But, at the same time, he felt torn about the whole situation.
At his core, Whitley had tried to act as a mediator. It was part of why he stayed so close to Father, after all, so he could learn how to negotiate like he did. It was also why he'd stay up late at night listening to Mother's drunken rambling.
If I can just understand; if I can figure out how to get you two to work things out, maybe I can fix this.
On his own, he had studied books on philosophy, sociology, debate, and anything else he could find. He had convinced Klaus to give him a spare key to Mother's wardrobe so could dilute the bottles she kept with water. He even kept Father distracted when Winter first met with the General, despite his own disdain for bloodshed, because he'd hoped that her achievements as a Specialist would prove her loyalty to Father -that she would bring glory to the Schnee name, and with it, unity.
But Winter had never returned, and now Weiss was going to leave them too.
Back to that bastard of the Council dogs.
Can't you see I'm doing my best to keep this family together?
Can't you give him, give
me a chance to make things right?
A small part of him wanted to just scream that to Weiss, but as always, his logic, (and, as part of him knew his pride) prevented him from doing so. Weiss was no fool. If she said that their enemies were dangerous, then he'd believe her. If she said that she needed to be out there, ending those who would destroy the Schnee and the Atlas they carried on their shoulders, then he would trust in her assessment.
But he would not be idle.
It would take time, and effort, and a lot of lectures from Father, but he'd forge this home into something that would be worthy of the Schnee name. He was the Heir now, and that meant that Father would probably be stricter on him than ever before. But Whitley didn't care about that.
He'd use every trick, every underhanded manipulation he could get to ensure that Weiss and Winter would come home to a family, not another warzone. He'd make sure of it.
On my honor as a Schnee.