The crisp air of Atlas drifting over the lush gardens of the Schnee mansion, two women strolled side by side with smiles on their faces.
"Good morning, Ms. Arc, I hope all is well?" Willow began the conversation with a hopeful glint in her eye. She'd come to know Carmel after the many interactions between their companies, and they'd grown quite close over their time spent together.
"Other than my ever spanning boredom, I can't really complain." Carmel giggled.
Garbed in a dark-blue dress with light blue frills, her pale and curly yellow hair was tied in a ponytail by a silver ribbon. A golden necklace hidden beneath her dress, she was older than Willow, but the age difference wasn't very obvious. Carmel was, however, much taller than her fellow woman as she stood at 6'1".
"I'm glad you like it," Willow smiled, "it's a new infusion of herbs from my own kitchens and my personal chef is rather proud of his concoction."
The two rounded a corner and entered a more secluded part of the gardens that was elevated to overlook the rest of the greenery. Beneath a gazebo constructed from white stone, Willow and Carmel seated themselves around a short table where a butler had been patiently waiting with more tea and a platter of bite-sized sandwiches and biscuits.
The butler did not stay for long, as he was immediately dismissed the moment Willow and Carmel took sat down. Alone with each other once more, the Schnee and Arc took a moment to get settled and admire the calmness of the garden.
"Hm, the fresh scent of Atlesian tea still astounds me. I'll have to take some home to Mistral after the festivities." Carmel sighed softly.
"So I take it that not all is well with you and Jacques?" She said in a tone that was both stern yet comforting.
Willow blinked at the question. Brows scrunched, she fought back the urge to bite her lip and answered in a steady voice.
"It's true, that my relationship hasn't been... what I hoped for, but Jacques' ambitions have pushed the capital of the SDC to new heights."
"A tad bitter are we?" Carmel giggled at her cohort's displeased expression.
"There's no need to wear such a face, I did try to warn you about him all those years ago, but you decided that it was true love that cemented your marriage isn't that right?"
The Schnee felt her blood boil at the statement, but her anger subsided as she could only blame herself for the questionable choices she'd made during her youth. Opting to change the course of the conversation, Willow plucked a bite-sized sandwich off the platter and hummed.
"Yes, and I regret that I did not heed your advice. However, Jacques is still my husband, and the blessings I receive from my children whenever I see them is enough to blow away my troubles."
Carmel put down her empty cup then rested her chin on an open palm.
"How's about we move onto greener pastures?" She said as her cerulean eyes gained a sparkling glint.
"I've been thinking of taking a vacation in the next month at a place called Heaven's waters. It's a spa that opened just last month, but the reviews for it are all above four stars. How about it? Maybe we could have an all-girls leave and release some of the pent-up stress we got from managing our companies?"
Willow smiled but felt the gesture was forced. "I appreciate the invitation, truly I do, but my eldest daughter's piano recital is around that time and I cannot afford to miss such an important event."
"Really? That's a shame. No matter, there will always be further opportunities to bond. Our children for example."
The Schnee paused. She sipped from her half-filled cup and felt that most of the warmth from the nice smelling brew had faded.
"Our children?"
Carmel nodded. "Come now, I know I'm breaking from the modern perception of matchmaking, but I've always had a thrill for the more traditional ways of finding a match for my daughters. I have connections among the nobility and the common people so it's only a matter of time until I've found someone of potential worth to bring into my family."
"Yes, your daughters..." Willow murmured but found that her voice was not as silent as she assumed for her cohort leaned forward as if to tell that she heard.
"Manon and Portia, lovely girls with the utmost respect for their mother. However, while Portia has retained the lessons from her tutors and myself, Manon has begun to express the more rebellious emotions that come with maturity." The holy mother dabbed her mouth with a napkin then clasped her arms on her lap.
While her teeth displayed a motherly smile, there was an ominous glint that Willow noticed in her friend's eyes that she couldn't quite grasp.
"But, they aren't my only children..."
"I hope my words do not offend you, but as I recall, the last born on your family tree was a still-unnamed boy?" Willow felt relieved when Carmel didn't scowl at her.
"Yes," the holy mother continued, "my son was supposed to be the one to carry the family name into the next generation... but I've still yet to find him in this vast world of Remnant."
"Still find him?" Willow asked with trepidation. "Did you not personally announce his death when they found Harold's body in the fogged sea of Argus?"
"Yes I did," Carmel allowed a practiced tear to smudge her perfect complexion, "but my soldiers weren't able to retrieve his beloved boat or the second passenger..."
"So that means..." A knot twisted in Willow's gut upon witnessing an unreadable expression on her friend's visage.
"That there's a high chance that my son still breaths among the living." Carmel finished the sentence in a tired tone. "Which brings me to my initial reason for seeking your early council."
Carmel unstrapped the necklace around her neck to reveal a locket that was promptly clicked open. Within the golden locket was the image of Carmel, dressed in a beige gown, holding her infant son with a motherly smile.
Harold was also in the photo, but his image had been faded out as if he was never supposed to be included in the first place.
"The SDC is known for its many means of naval transport between Mantle and Vale, and I know this is a long stretch, but I was wondering if any of those working under your name had encountered a locket similar to mine."
Willow took the locket extended to her and meticulously inspected the details. From the hand-carved lily designs to the pureness of the gold itself, the Schnee could confirm that the craftsmen of Mistral were still the finest on Remnant.
"I could leave a reward open for any of my workers who might have picked it up, but wouldn't a locket sink into the water? Perhaps it's already at the bottom of the ocean?"
Carmel grinned slyly. "Any reasonable person would assume that. The locket that Harold and I received on our wedding day, however, has been infused with a special dust concoction that allows it to float despite being heavier than water."
The blonde lowered her gaze as her friend returned the locket.
"After all, a mother is allowed to hold out even the smallest shreds of hope for their son's survival, aren't they?"
Willow, who was all too familiar with the motherly sense to protect her children, moved to comfort her friend and stood from her seat so she could rest her palm over Carmel's clasped hands.
The holy mother seemed pleased by the gesture and decided to shift slightly from the initial topic for one that was more advantageous and one that Willow could more so relate to.
"It is said that all those who carry Arc blood are destined to be great warriors, though I don't think this is wholly true."
Willow curled a brow. "How so? If I remember correctly, the Arc lineage has served countless battles against the Grimm and against their fellow man. My grandfather, Nicholas Schnee, served on the frontlines with Bastion Arc in the great Grimm siege in 1985."
Carmel eased into her chair. "Yes, the events on that day do hold true, but Harold was a peculiar case. Unlike the mighty warriors he drew his outward appearances from, my husband favored lengthy texts and history ventures over a sharpened sword and blunted shield."
"A warrior of knowledge then?" Willow added and the two women shared a laugh.
"I do appreciate intelligent men," the holy mother hummed, "which is why I think my bond with Harold sparked the moment we met."
"He was a good man," the noble Schnee said, "his reforms with the many slights against the Faunus helped build a proper foundation for peace."
"Indeed, my husband allowed me a bountiful field of flowers, but he also sowed the seeds of many weeds that I had to pluck."
"Are you referring to the white fang?" Willow asked. "The recent rumors about them have yet to be proven, and Ghira Belladonna is a peaceful yet stern tactician. I don't think that a man such as he would allow acts of violence to go unpunished."
Carmel's lips dipped slightly. "Yet, even with a proud and wise representative to lead them, the ransacking of dust shipments in both Mistral and Mantle have gained the attention of both commoner and noble alike."
Carmel's fingers gripped those of Willow.
"I do not consider violence as a likable means to bring order, but there are times that the swing of a sword is more beneficial than the signature of a pen. Your grandfather understood that meaning all too well, isn't that right?"
The Schnee gained a look of concern. She knew that every family whether noble or common, had secrets they'd prefer to forget, but this memory that Carmel had decided to dig up gnawed at her mind.
"Where are you going with this?" Willow asked slowly and gently removed her hand so she could return to her seat.
"I've decided to emphasize my forces along the trade lines that my husband and his ancestors have forged over their many years of commerce. As, seeing that I am the only one who upholds the name of Arc, other than my daughters of course; it is my duty to ensure that the Arc legacy does not fall."
"Your passion to protect your family name is worth praising, but are you suggesting that a more violent means is the correct path to take? There are countless examples of the Faunus being oppressed, and I fear that more harsh decisions will lead to more riots and rebellions." Willow said in an uneasy tone.
The air around the two, once crisp and fresh, had dulled to a mixture of concern and confused feelings. As the foreboding silence lingered, it was broken by the warm presence of a trusted man who was welcomed by his master and frowned upon by his noble guest.
"Forgive me for interrupting your privacy, Ms. Schnee and Ms. Arc, but there is someone here who wishes to see you both and is rather adamant about it."
Both nobles shared a look then focused their attention on a familiar figure.
A man adorned in a white trench coat and dark rectangular shades, he walked with purpose as he made his way to the gazebo. He also had a spoon glued to his right cheek.
"Oh, isn't that your personal butler, Carmel? You could have invited him earlier, I would have offered him a few appetizers if you did." Willow hummed.
"I gave Vergo a few jobs that he needed to complete before he joined my side. Though with him here now, I suppose he's completed all his assignments."
Carmel stood from her seat as did Willow and the two shared a friendly hug.
"It's been a pleasure speaking to you, especially as friends instead of uptight nobles. We must spend more time together, as I'm sure the stressed wrinkles on your forehead would appreciate some time away from the stuffy confines of your office."
Willow pursed her lips at the remark but broke into a giggling fit as Carmel joked about having many unwanted wrinkles herself.
"Ms. Carmel, Ms. Schnee," Vergo waited at the bottom of the gazebo's stairs and stepped aside as the two women descended.
"I guess this is where I say goodbye, but at least it won't be for long. Till the start of the banquet, Willow, I can't wait to taste the wines you've selected." The holy mother grinned and bid her friend a polite wave before leaving with Vergo in tow.
"Is everything alright, Ms. Schnee?" Klein placed himself beside his master and lent an ear.
"I'm worried, Klein," Willow admitted uneasily. "There's so much happening outside Atlas' borders and I fear that we won't be able to keep up."
"The stressed ties between Mantle and the newly established Atlas are concerning, and I can only imagine that it won't get any better for some time." Klein sighed. "However, we are at an advantage when it comes to the strife between the humans and Faunus. After all, wasn't it you who reformatted the wages among those in the SDC? Why, everyone, human and Faunus alike are praising you for putting the company down a path of better equality."
The Schnee beamed at the praise and smiled. This time with teeth.
"I think a good rest is what I need before the banquet. Should anything urgent arise, please don't feel afraid to wake me."
"Of course," Klein replied, "I'm a friend who's here to serve after all."
/-/
"Okay, Glynda, you can do this. It's not like you left the house after a fierce fight with your parents or anything..."
The mystical witch rubbed her temples at the thought of confronting her parents after months of texts and short video chats. She didn't hate her parents per se, but the strain accompanied by her desire to become a huntress had left a rather tall mountain between them.
Greeted with the tall estate she once called home, Glynda sighed as everything was as she left it. From the short stone walls that surrounded her family's property to the four-storied building atop the hill that overlooked the richer sections of Mantle that hadn't been as heavily affected by Atlas' separation. Even the Faunus servants... while dressed nicely, they wore flat expressions that quickly shifted to grumbling frowns at the sight of the former resident of the Goodwitch household.
With slowed steps, Glynda reached the main doors of her home and raised a trembling fist to knock. However, her hand froze when the clicking of heels echoed from behind the door and grew louder before coming to an abrupt stop.
In the blink of an eye, the doors swung open after being enveloped in a purple hue to present Glynda with an older image who greatly resembled herself.
"Glynda!" Cried a woman with short, pale blonde locks that were tied in a braided bun that was complemented by an olive green dress with a frilled collar and cuffs. Her green eyes glimmering in delight, she stepped forward to embrace her child and refused to let go despite the many pleas from Glynda.
Caitlin Goodwitch, known for her prowess and mastery with her aura and semblance, held a seat among Atlas' council along with her husband, Bolton. Though she was already in her mid-forties, time had been patient with the noble as she lacked any significant signs of aging.
She was even as tall as her daughter, as it was a strange tradition that ran through the family of Goodwitch's, that every firstborn girl would reach the height of 6'5.
"Hello... mother." Glynda tried to smile, but couldn't bring herself to do it.
"Oh, I'm so glad you finally decided to visit!" Caitlin ushered her daughter inside, waved for a Faunus waiter to bring them some tea, then took a seat on a large leather armchair dyed in red.
She gestured, or to be precise she forcibly pointed, for Glynda to take a spot on the couch across from her.
Glynda did as she was told and sat down with perfect posture. Hands clasped over her one another, she shifted to get comfortable and lifted her gaze to meet that of her mother.
"I've read the many exploits of GPPO, and I'm glad that you're making the world a better place. It does the family name good to have someone in the fray after all." Caitlin praised in a practiced tone.
"Yes, my teammates and I have done well until now. We even managed to attain an upgrade on our hunter licenses that have ascended us to a higher level of authority." Glynda replied solemnly.
"That's wonderful!" Caitlin continued to speak in a sugary tone. "We of the Goodwitch household are always aiming to improve. Why, when I was your age-"
"You managed to obtain a seat on the Atlesian council." Glynda finished in a flat voice.
"Hm, what's that? Has my little mystical witch decided to stop by?" Called a dulcet tone from the long hallways nearby.
Glynda blinked at the familiar voice and felt the tips of her lips reach for the ceiling as her father strolled into the living room.
A few years older than her mother, Bolton Garf was a man whose face resembled that of an old lion. His bushy brown locks connected to a pair of long sideburns and a thick beard that spread outward in the likeness of a mane, he had a straight nose nicked with a small scar he'd gotten from his younger years.
He adjusted the blue tie around his neck then fixed the cuffs of his dark navy suit. He took the armchair that neighbored that of his wife and rested his cane on the glass coffee table.
"I must say, you've grown into quite the flower, Glynda." Bolton sighed happily. "How are things in Vale? I heard that Ozpin and the Valesian council have decided to enact the merging of the Mistralian folk who lost their settlements in the southern parts of the kingdom."
Glynda understood all too well what her father was doing, and she was grateful for it. From a glance he could tell that his daughter was uncomfortable with her current disposition, so he tried to talk about topics that weren't directly related to her to relieve her mind of some pressure.
Caitlin however, seemed disappointed at her husband's abrupt interruption and if this were an earlier time, Glynda would have shared her mother's displeasure.
The thought niggled at the huntress like a bee sting. The memories she'd created in this house and with its servants would forever follow her as a bitter reminder of what she used to be.
"Glynda, is everything alright?" Bolton asked worriedly.
The huntress took a deep breath to recollect herself. "I'm fine, but I am tired. Would it be possible for me to rest up a bit before tonight? I'd hate to be weary during the Schnee's banquet."
"Of course," Caitlin made sure to speak before her husband did, "I suppose I'll finish my business with Berenice in the meantime. Bolton, be a dear and lead our dearest to her quarters?"
The mother of the household bid her child a polite goodbye then left the room gracefully.
As for the two who still occupied the living room, Bolton and Glynda stared at each other for a while in silence.
"I know you're not too happy to be here," Bolton said calmly, "but your mother is trying despite her views on how the world is."
He got out of his chair and hummed softly.
"But enough of this old man's yapping, I bet you want your beauty sleep, Oum knows what your mother's like when she doesn't get her's."
Glynda raised a hand in haughty fashion to cover her giggles. Though her eyes widened when her father grabbed his cane.
"I'm not actually tired." The huntress said nervously. "I just... don't know how to talk to either of you after all this time... I-I'm really, truly sorry that I left. It's just that-"
Bolton tapped the stub of his cane against the hard wooden floor and showed a face he rarely put on. It was one that was caring, but aggressively stern.
"I didn't ask my only daughter to visit so she could give me an apology, an apology mind you, that I don't think I really deserve. I understand why we fought and why we said things that we now regret. However, in the heat of the moment, the feelings we oppress tend to rear their ugly faces and reveal how we truly feel. I know that now."
Bolton made another move to leave, but a sudden grip on his wrist prevented him from doing so.
"Wait, please, I do want to talk. Just not here." Glynda pleaded solemnly.
Bolton stroked his beard. Having to look upward at his daughter since he was only 5'10, he nodded in the affirmative and pulled out his scroll.
"I've sent for my driver, and he'll be here in a few minutes."
Glynda curled a brow as her father turned in the opposite direction of the hallway and made his way to the door that connected the living room to the small garden outback. His hand now entwined with that of his daughter, he opened the door and gave her a teasing grin.
"We don't want to be seen sneaking off, do we? It wouldn't do the Goodwitch name well to be caught in the act."
"No, I suppose not." Glynda showed the genuine smile she only reserved for her closest friends, and a certain magician, then gladly made her way out of the house with her loving parent.