Chapter 4 – The City without Snow or Sand

In which Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna arrive at the place that's going to be their new home.

Beacon Academy was the sum of their communal dreams. Blake had dreamt of coming here ever since she'd heard that Beacon churned out storybook heroes like the ones in her books as a tyke, and Weiss saw it as an anvil on which to strengthen her already exceptional huntress skills and prove her independent worth free of her Father or his company's influence. It was a fresh start for both of them.

"This…This is happening," Weiss breathed, stepping out of Father's private airship that took them as far as the Valean airfields. From there, they would have to take Beacon owned transport.

"Yeah, it really is," Blake confirmed.

"No, I mean…for so long, this was just something that existed to me in photographs. I knew it was real, but now that it's there, just up on the hill above the city, it feels so much more real."

"I think I get what you mean," Blake said, yanking her small luggage bag full of books down the steps of the descending ramp. "It was like when we first travelled to Mistral. We knew exactly what it looked like, but when we actually got there, it was like we weren't sure what to make of stepping forward and seeing the photograph move around in 3D."

"It didn't help that we were both under the age of ten," Weiss pointed out. "But yeah, that just about sums it up. Now that we're here, there's just so much that I didn't realize. And it's not stuff I had to be here to think about…like, teams. They make teams of four, but I didn't even think about who's going to be on our team, or who we would even want on our team."

Blake shifted a little bit at that. Weiss turned to look at her, worried.

"Sorry," she said, pointing to her suitcase. "The wheel got stuck on a step."

"Oh. Need any help?"

Blake shook her head.

"Then, as I was saying…teams. It's public information that Beacon conglomerates four students into one fighting unit, but it was like I couldn't even begin to process that knowledge until we got here. Maybe it's because I wasn't sure that Father would let me come here…"

Weiss shook her head. It almost certainly wasn't that. The manor, while somewhat stifling, had been a decent home for Weiss, in that it was the one place where she could relinquish all disguises and simply be herself – be crass with Blake, eat fish without worrying about manners, scratch off molting feathers without worrying about 'sullying the angelic image of her wings,' not pretend to adore her Father. Atlas wasn't bad, but like many children coming of age, Weiss simply needed to break free to discover who she could be.

"Speaking of teams," Weiss said, summoning a small Glyph to make an angled plane on which Blake could roll her wheelie suitcase. "Who do we want on ours?"

"Ummm…"

There was something off about Blake, and Weiss had a feeling it wasn't related to troubles carrying her books down the uneven steps, but if Blake wanted Weiss to know, she would let her.

"I know we most likely won't know any of the applicant huntsmen or huntresses, but perhaps a little forethought as to fighting style and weapon compatibility. For instance, you and I both have mixed range and close-quarters swordplay to become elite huntresses the likes of which shall astound our peers; however, our overlap leaves theoretical holes in our strengths that our future teammates may patch. Perhaps someone exclusively devoted to hand-to-hand combat…a heavy hitter to my glass cannon and your stealth strike?"

"W-Weiss…about that."

Okay, yeah, something was definitely up with Blake. Still, the basis of their relationship was a clear respect for one another's boundaries, whether that was hugging one another, touching each other's Faunus trait, sharing a personal secret…

…or disclosing what's bothering us.

"Blake," Weiss said neutrally. She dearly wanted to press her friend about what was wrong, but that would put Blake out. "My attention is yours, if you wish it."

"About teams. There's something I have to say."

Weiss was beginning to feel her palms sweat slightly, so she folded her arms behind her back and turned them away from Blake. This was starting to sound less like an admission and more of a confession.

Is something wrong?

Is she nervous about Beacon?

Did…Did she not get in?

Oh Dust, that would be Weiss' nightmare. Four years at an academy without Blake would be four years wasted. Weiss groaned – she'd been going on and on about Beacon, no doubt bothering Blake immensely, if that were the case.

Well, if that were the case, the solution would be simple. Weiss would attend whichever of the other three academies Blake ended up going to. And if a non-academy path was Blake's choice, Weiss would back her just the same.

I was privately tutored in fencing, Dust manipulation, and Glyphs for my entire life. What's four more years?

"Whatever it is, you have my full support," Weiss said, only to realize she'd jumped the gun since she didn't yet know what the issue actually was.

"Oh Gods, you're being so nice about this," Blake moaned. "I feel like such a jackass."

"I…wh…y-you aren't an ass."

Weiss wasn't entirely sure what being nice had to do with Blake's nameless issue.

If…If me being nice makes her feel bad, that means that whatever she has to tell me is about…

Weiss felt a lump in her throat.

But she'd promised her best friend her support, no matter what, and a Schnee always went through with their promises – even if doing so would make Weiss scream.

"You can tell me anything, Blake," Weiss said, forcing herself stiff. Blake clearly saw her going into defense mode and knew that Weiss wasn't displaying her real emotions, but Weiss devolving into a jittery wreck would do neither of them any good. "You may have more pairs than me, but I'm all ears."

"H-Ha…yeah…" Blake cleared her throat. "Okay, so there's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to come out with it."

Weiss nodded.

"No sugarcoating. Just the truth."

"Okay," Weiss said.

"It's a tough thing for me to say, so I'm just gonna say it and hope for the best."

"Precisely."

Blake coughed. "There's no point in wasting either of our time by beating around the bush. Here goes nothing."

"B-Blake…"

"The truth can hurt, but even a white lie is worse. That's why I need to tell you, without any hesitation or –"

"Blake!"

Blake closed her eyes, sucked in a weak breath, exhaled it slowly. When her lips opened, Weiss' world came crashing down around her.

"Weiss, I don't want to be on a team with you. A-At Beacon."

If you'd asked Weiss to bet her entire fortune that Blake would willingly want to separate from her a month ago, you'd be several trillion lien richer.

If you'd asked Weiss the same thing this very morning, the outcome would be the same. Unlike Blake's little monologue, there would be no hesitation. Weiss was sure of herself and how she felt.

Up until the very moment when Blake had said it, Weiss had held out hope that it was something else. Even when Blake's secret started to sound like a confession, she'd desperately been trying to convince herself that there was no way Blake would ever want Weiss gone.

They'd been together since they were little. They were a team – Weiss and Blake, Blake and Weiss. They literally went together like black and white. Both girls flawlessly complimented one another, with Weiss' hidden sense of comedy buried beneath a desert of stoicism being the perfect additive inverse to Blake's façade of sarcastic wit protecting a secret sense of duty that encircled the entire world.

Weiss had been prepared to follow Blake anywhere – to the cheap knockoff that was Haven, to the informal dojos boasted by Menagerie, to the spartan wastelands of Shade, hell, even to Atlas. Weiss would have faced it all, because all she'd needed in the world was Blake Belladonna.

But if what Blake truly wanted was distance? Weiss didn't know how to respond to that. Half of the reason she'd chosen Beacon as the place to discover who she was on her own was because she'd wanted to discover who she was on her own with Blake.

What would Weiss do? Where would Weiss go when the very –

"Heh."

Weiss' head snapped up.

"Ha."

Blake was giggling.

"Oh, you poor little gullible thing."

Blake was…

Oh, Blake was so dead.

A wing collided with her throat, knocking her down to the floor instantly, but Blake kept on laughing, now uncontrollably.

"You motherfucker! I was upset!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Blake wailed as Weiss rained down her petit fists at her. "But it was too goooood! You actually thought –"

Throwing Father's wishes for her to behave befitting of a proud Schnee no matter where, Weiss jumped on top of Blake and begin to wring the cat Faunus' throat. They were in a semi-private area, with only the watchful of SDC porters and a few bodyguards (not that Weiss needed them), but they could've been in town square for all Weiss cared.

The two of them tumbled to the bottom of the airship's ramp with Weiss landing on top. As she pressed down, Weiss developed a new understanding for how tormenting close friends could be pleasing, because throttling Blake like this made her feel utterly blissful. Try to trick me, will you…?

"Weiheiheiss," Blake chuckled, still grinning. "Stop before you kill me, please."

"You'd deserve it!"

Weiss let go with one hand, but not to release Blake. Instead, she used that hand to cover Blake's mouth and pinch her nose tightly. The Faunus beneath Weiss tried to push up and free herself, but Weiss had her pinned. When that didn't work, Blake's tongue stuck out of her mouth and impacted Weiss' hand.

"Gah!" Weiss jumped back in alarm and rubbed her hand on her bolero jacket, only to realize that was only spreading the feline saliva around on both her fingers and her outfit.

"Bwaaaaa," Blake mumbled, her tongue sticking out of her wide-open mouth.

Weiss couldn't help the giggle that slipped past her lips at the sheer absurdity of their little 'cat' fight. Blake noticed it instantly and sat up, grinning from ear to ear.

"There she is…"

"Don't ever do that to me again, Blake. My heart nearly exploded out of my chest."

"Awwwww. You care."

"I do, and that means I care enough to smother you with a pillow in your sleep and summon you using my Glyphs as a ghost to keep you around if you ever scare me like that again."

"Weiss!" Blake snapped, raising her nose. "That's utterly out of line! A Schnee like you should immediately drop this childish pattern of action that you've picked up from the Belladonnas. I insist upon no further behavior unbefitting of your proud Schnee lineage, not when in public, not in private, or not even all the way up my ass!"

Weiss was nearly in hysterics by the end of Blake's horrible, horrible impression of her Father. Taking a second to calm down, she wiped a tear from her eye. "May I?"

Blake nodded.

Weiss fell down into Blake's lap, her head resting on her thighs. "So, you heard that?"

"Yup. Figured it would take something major to burst you out of that little bubble of yours before you even blew it."

"Please don't do that again, Blake."

Blake nodded. "I won't. Desperate times…"

"I'm serious. That…That wasn't pleasant."

"Oh, come on," Blake snorted, swiping a hand through the air. "Like you'd ever actually believe that I would want to…"

Her eyes flicked down to Weiss, who said nothing.

"W-Weiss, you couldn't actually believe that I would…would ever…"

Weiss twisted her head and looked down at Blake's feet. "As I said, it wasn't pleasant."

The two of them shared a moment of silence. Blake sucked in her lips, clearly uncomfortable with the realization that her little joke had been funnier for her than it had for Weiss.

Weiss would forgive her, of course, because no matter what, she knew Blake Belladonna, and she knew that this truly had been an error in her judgment of Weiss' gullibility, not a serious attempt to hurt her. Blake would never hurt her, and Weiss would never let go of her best friend.

"I'm sorry," Blake said softly into Weiss' ear.

Weiss just nodded and sat up.

"In all seriousness," Blake said. "I will be on your team. I'll be your partner. And…you'll be our leader."

Weiss looked over, eyes wide.

"I'm serious. This isn't just me trying to make up for me really being a jackass just now, this is something I've been mulling over for a while now. I trust you."

"I trust y–"

"Yeah, but I don't trust myself to be a leader," Blake said. Her hands landed on her knees, and she began to idly rock them from side to side, left and right. "Not a good one. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I know I'm a good huntress when it comes to combat. Maybe better than you, depending on a lot of things. But I'm not ready to…not yet. This is just as much a choice about me and what I feel like I need to do to grow up as it is about my faith in you."

"Are you sure?" asked Weiss. "It was you who always blazed the trail on our adventures when we were kids. You're far more outspoken than I am, more ready to take charge."

"I've always known right and wrong. But how to get there? How to make it real? I'm not ready for that."

Weiss crawled towards Blake. "May I?"

Blake nodded.

Weiss wrapped her arms around her partner. "Just for the record, I believe you'd be a great leader. No matter how confident you feel right now, I'm sure you'll rise to the occasion when the time comes."

"Thanks, chicken wings."

"No problem, kitty kat." Weiss let go of Blake. "And also, I'm going to heavily delegate to you as my lieutenant, so it'll probably end up being more work for you in the long run."

Blake chuckled and nodded.

"I'm serious," Weiss said, righting her suitcase that had tumbled down in their brief melee. "Paperwork, supply requests, permission slips…that's on you."

Weiss knew better than to joke about it being punishment for Blake's unfortunate prank just now. The guilt she was facing was too raw for Weiss to joke about even facetiously, so she held her tongue. However, when Blake eventually forgave herself (and least expected it), Weiss would be certain to pay her back with a practical joke befitting of a bad influence on a diligent Schnee. They would have plenty of time together, after all.

"Miss Schnee! Miss Schnee, over here!"

Weiss did not look at the reporters as she walked, instead fixing her eyes straight ahead. This was another piece of advice Father had taught her, but unlike most, Weiss thoroughly appreciated his tips on how to get the paparazzi off her back.

Answering questions was acceptable – often times even necessary – but one never gave the hogs of the media the attention they so desperately craved. Eyes front, never making contact. They were background characters, distant shapes in the sideline that Weiss might occasionally deign to provide whatever little tidbit about her life she deemed them worthy of knowing, but never enough to distract her from her course.

"Miss Schnee, would you care to comment on why you chose Beacon?"

Not that one. Too long an explanation, and anything Weiss gave them would be truncated to fit a one-sentence headline that would misrepresent Weiss' true intentions.

"Miss Schnee, are you and Blake Belladonna going to be attending Beacon together?"

Blake, who was right next to Weiss as they walked, answered affirmatively for Weiss.

"Miss Schnee, do you and Miss Belladonna intend to form a huntress team with Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl?"

Nikos…that was news to Weiss. A champion like her would certainly make them a power team, one for the ages. Weiss didn't answer the reporter who'd asked, but she did tilt her head to the side slightly as she pondered it.

Blake, a public figure in her own right, wasn't immune to their endless barrage of probes either.

"Miss Belladonna, do you fear that the Invincible Girl will drive a wedge between you and Miss Schnee?"

"Miss Belladonna, is it your intention to come to Beacon to learn how to adequately combat the up and coming terrorist organization Anthrosurgent?"

"Miss Belladonna, do you have anything to say about the Menagerian contingent participating in this year's Vytal Tournament?"

That one…that was something they actually had to respond to. Menagerie was considered a kingdom by Mantle and Mistral and had actually been formally recognized in the Vacuoan parliament, but Vale had not made its official stance known. Every mention of the island kingdom made a difference, so they couldn't turn down the free publicity that had been handed to them on a silver platter. Blake turned to look at the reporters as she spoke, and Weiss even twisted her head to watch them slightly.

"I wish our athletes the best of luck against the upcoming challenges they will be facing and would like to express my upmost faith in their skills."

Athletes. Such a diminishing word for the men and women who were practically hunters in their own right, but because Atlas still had veto power over the attendance of any participants in the tournament, they couldn't refer to themselves as such. As much as Weiss may have despised her Father's slimy ways, she couldn't deny that he'd worked a miracle by getting the Menagerian team spots in both this and the previous tournament. His methods may have been extreme (and arguably excessive) but they worked.

It's not bad, though. We're making great strides towards equality, and the White Fang and SDC are leading the charge. Father may be a snake Faunus, hold the Faunus, but he's…he's…

There were a lot of words Weiss could use to describe her Father.

"Miss Schnee!" The flash of a camera broke Weiss away from her thoughts. "Do you have anything to say to your fellow Faunus participating in the upcoming Vale-hosted tournament?"

Weiss smiled. "I do. Brothers and sisters…"

She turned to face the camera, a practiced grin that suggested playful competitiveness on her face. She didn't place an arm on Blake's shoulder or anything obvious like that, but she did adjust her stance and pace to frame it clearly that she was standing alongside Blake when she made her statement.

"…you'd better make it to the finals, because my team and I intend to meet you there."

The airship to Beacon was a welcome respite from the hounding attention of the media. Reporters weren't allowed on the vessel, and the Beacon staff who manned the airfield were very strict about who they permitted to enter.

The flight over was a mostly uneventful affair for Weiss and Blake, giving the former (and the latter, though she'd never admit it) a chance to scope out her future peers.

Pyrrha Nikos stood out, of course. Not only was her world-famous outfit and armor a sight to behold, but that bright red head of hair pierced straight through a sea of black and blonde. Weiss was tempted to approach her and form some trappings of an early alliance, but she would rather spend her limited time at Blake's side. The reporters had suggested that a third wheel might drive a wedge between the two of them, and Weiss wouldn't want to take any risks with something as important as her future partner.

As soon as they landed, Weiss would have to meet up with her porters and luggage carriers, who'd brought Weiss' Dust and other supplies to Beacon in advance and were awaiting her at the school. It would require her to separate from the other student body to oversee the careful management of the Dust. That was why Blake had a suitcase to lug around and not Weiss.

Not that I'd ever have one. Father would throw a fit if his pampered angel were ever seen dragging her own property around. It's not like I want to have to do manual labor, but his insistence on my every whim being catered to is rather…rough, at times.

Beacon would be the change that she needed in her life. No more prat little brother, no more betrayer elder sister, no more image obsessed father…just Weiss, Blake, and whoever joined them.

Speaking of which, I ought to do some window shopping in what little time I have before I'm forced to leave the student body behind. Oh, I do so hope I don't miss the headmaster's opening remarks when I'm busy with the Dust intake.

Pyrrha Nikos seemed to be following after some scraggly boy. Weiss couldn't recognize him, and he certainly didn't seem to be all that impressive in the way he remained completely unaware of his tail, but that logo on his sword and armor seemed…faintly familiar. If Nikos had her eyes set on him for whatever reason, he might become the fourth member of their new team.

Who else, then…perhaps Weiss would look for that heavy hitter to round off the team. Pyrrha would certainly fill that category (and any category for that matter), but Weiss had no guarantee she would wish to join up with them. For all Weiss knew, Pyrrha would see her as a rival to be quashed. Or perhaps a Faunus to be put out of the way; she was from Mistral, a notorious hotbed for pockets of scattered human chauvinists.

There were two immensely tall boys walking around, and the mace and halberd at their sides suggested they both packed a punch. Weiss watched them briefly, stroking her chin as Blake dug into her book (another science fiction story, the genre which had recently become her temporary favorite until another displaced it).

In the end, Weiss decided against the two men. The way the taller of the two carried himself in relation to his tagalong, he didn't seem to be a follower. Weiss suspected he would be shooting for the title of team leader, and there could only be one. Furthermore, they seemed to have acquired their own full team, comprised of two other far shorter men.

And we won't be having any of that mohawk. Father would probably come visit in person to drag me home if I ever took an individual of such deviant appearance into my confidences.

Their flight landed before Weiss could reach a decision on who was the best candidate for their remaining spot or spots. She decided to let it lie for now; Blake would certainly have an opinion that Weiss would need to take into account before anything else. Plus, Beacon was likely to have some tournament of strength and skill or other such assignment to showcase their talents before team selection. It wasn't as though these hunters-in-training among her would be expected to get lucky and find someone with whom their combat styles miraculously coalesced.

Weiss disembarked while dragging Blake, who was just 'finishing up the chapter' and 'marking the page with her bookmark.' In truth, Weiss fully expected Blake to keep reading all the way to the headmaster's introductory speech if she could.

"I'm off to get my things."

"Hmm?" Blake didn't take her nose out of the paperback. "Whawazzat?"

"I'm going to leave you behind for a little bit to collect my effects and my Dust."

"Kay. Tell Birdenaster I said hi."

Well, the playful nickname Blake had long ago bestowed upon Weiss' weapon proved that she was at least listening, even if she wasn't looking. Weiss considered calling Gambol Shroud something equally horrible like Gambol Meowd, but the first time she tried to stutter out the words, fear that Blake would be offended by the potential racial undertones stayed her. Weiss had long since grown comfortable enough with her companion to know that Blake never minded a joke as long as it was funny, but the moment for clever comebacks had passed years ago.

Blake and the bustling crowds of students that flowed like the tides around here moved towards the castle that made up the school, leisurely soaking in the sights with wide-eyed, but Weiss followed the directions she'd received towards the loading dock. Beacon had granted her prior permission for the exception regarding her larger than average luggage, something Weiss had applied for and not bought or bribed her way into. No accusation had been made, but Weiss expected one eventually would.

The porters were awaiting her, an even mixture of humans and Faunus. Even though Faunus were actually less prevalent on Remnant than humans, Father insistent on perfectly equal distributions. It mattered less that it was truly a representative body than that it looked good from all angles. After all, if someone pointed out that Jacques hired less Faunus than humans, he might…

Oh, who am I kidding? It's more habit than anything at this point. No one in their right mind would accuse Jacques Schnee, champion of the Faunus rights movement, of being a racist. No one who doesn't actually know him.

Okay, I might not be being fair with that. He's manipulative, greedy, image-conscious, vain, ruthless, and an all around wretched man, but that doesn't mean he embodies ever trait wrong with the world. Racism is bad, and Jacques Schnee is bad, but that doesn't mean Jacques Schnee is racist.

"Gentleman," Weiss said, clearing her throat. "I have been informed that our temporary accommodations will be within Beacon's South Hall. From there we shall be paired off into teams and assigned one room per quartet on a permanent basis. Please deliver my baggage and supplies to the former location and await my word for confirmation of the latter."

The men, pictures of professionalism each and every one, bowed and set about hauling the carts and toting the suitcases towards the hall in question. Weiss appreciated their wordless obedience, but she couldn't help but wish that Klein were among them to offer a comforting word or two as he aided her. It was unfair to compare these hired hands to the butler who deserved a good quarter of the credit for raising her, a feat not even Weiss' own mother could boast.

The crowd of students was progressing slower than she'd expected. Weiss had assumed they would all neatly sally into the hall toward which that the huntsman professor aboard the airship had directed them, but it seemed that these slightly less cultured Valean children instead chose to spread out in all directions.

I understand a healthy appreciation of the new, but we're on a schedule. The headmaster's opening remarks begin in twenty minutes, and seating a crowd this large will surely take fifteen.

This amorphous gaggle of students was pervasive and uncoordinated; Weiss would need to direct her porters personally to avoid them risking being bumped by an overzealous little girl or careless young boy.

"Please follow me."

There were some whispers as Weiss led the procession of men through the mingling students, many of whom were on their scrolls filming the architecture of snapping self-shot photographs of themselves in front of various landmarks or buildings. Weiss patently ignored any and all of the hushed words flying about, though she couldn't help but make out several of them.

"…heiress…"

"…Faunus…"

"…rich girl…"

"…bags…"

Weiss outstretched her wings, resulting in a small collection of poorly concealed gasps. There was some dark pleasure in controlling these gawking buffoons, the way that Weiss could move a part of her body and ensure an expected response, but that wasn't why she'd done it. Father insisted she show off her wings too, claiming that Schnees needed to carry themselves above all others no matter what, but that wasn't why she'd done it either.

Weiss was a Faunus. She wasn't sure how, and she wasn't sure why, but it was what she was. Even if Father did his best to pervert that aspect of her person by drilling into her uniqueness like a Dust vein and tapping it for every ounce of sympathy or PR fluff he could, it was something she herself was proud of, and no one could take that away from her.

I am Weiss Schnee, she thought. Not Jacques' heir to show off, not Nicholas' grandchild to carry on the legacy, but me. Weiss as much as Schnee. I don't hold my head high because Father tells me I need to look down on others but because I know my own worth.

Everyone had taken a good long look at least once by now (save for Blake, who she couldn't make out among the crowd), but Weiss carried on without acknowledging it. No doubt the world desired for her to feel embarrassment for many a thing – being the only Faunus in the entire crowd, getting 'special treatment' with her many bags, not easily falling into whatever preconceived box these people had for her – but Weiss refused to budge. Let them wonder why she wasn't ashamed.

Weiss led her porters on unperturbed even when Pyrrha Nikos' green eyes fell on her. The Invincible Girl drank in the image of Weiss with neither condemnation nor compassion, so Weiss held her wings even higher. Pyrrha eventually looked away with a slight blush, realizing that she was staring.

At least a hundred students and not a single Faunus other than myself and my best friend. And both of us are the children of giants. Beacon, you'd better prove you're better than what your first impression makes you out to be.

It was with that thought in mind that a tiny red-dressed girl who's head was turned the other way collided with Weiss.

Next Chapter: Against the Grain

In which Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose meet for the first time and nothing at all goes horribly wrong.

Author's Notes

Bet I gotcha with that Blakeout fakeout, didn't I? If I did, drop a like/favorite and leave your username, credit card number/expiration, and security code in the comments so I can know it was you. (disclaimer: don't)

We're getting the first-ish taste of our lore in B-, with the Menagerian athletes and the mentions of Anthrosurgent.

I know I said that we're in a new universe with new stuff, but I will do my best to keep true to the core of the characters, or else they'll become my OCs wearing Weiss' name. Weiss is still a bit uptight, and she's still a Pyrrha simp for clout, just as in canon.

Happy rats, and don't do crime!