Chapter 93 - Atlas - When the Fog Begins to Lift

Year 74VE, January

Cover Art by Mi Chumi

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HAPPY NEW YEAR! HAVE A BONUS CHAPTER!

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The next day, Rhodes' scroll rang. "Mr. Lambard Rhodes?"

He cringed. He hated his first name. "Speaking."

"Please hold."

The screen flickered and switched to a different room. Some sort of opulent sitting area. Willow Schnee sat on a love seat, with Winston behind and to her left. She had a glass of wine in one hand, and looked worn. "Mr. Rhodes," she greeted him, "I hope this is not an inopportune time."

"No, it's fine. And call me Rhodes, please."

She smiled. "And then you may call me Willow. I wanted to thank you again." She gestured to the man behind her, "Winston reluctantly informed me of the entire story of your exploits that evening. And in the cold dawn of sobriety, I was able to remember additional details." She shuddered, and took a long drink of wine, then looked at the glass and frowned. "My situation was more dire than I realized that evening."

"Did you use any of the tips I suggested?" He didn't ask whether she'd had issues. He knew she would.

"I did. And I thank you for those as well." She nodded toward him. "You are a man of surprising talents, Rhodes."

"Comes from a lifetime of hard living."

"Surely you are still young."

"Huntsmen age quickly. No joking. A Huntsman in the field at age 40 has survived a fifty percent mortality rate, and is either retiring or dodging the reaper by that point."

Willow's face paled, and even Winston grimaced at that. "I had no idea."

"It's not something we advertise. The Combat Schools and the Academies aren't exactly benefited by talking about those kinds of downsides. We know it, but what are we gonna say? 'No, don't become a Huntsman?' Humanity would be circling the drain in two decades if we did that."

Willow looked at Winston directly for a moment. This was clearly not something she had ever considered. "And are you nearing retirement, Rhodes?"

"Already semi-retired. I'm mostly doing contract work for a local security firm called BAST. It's run by a former Atlas Specialist."

Willow looked pleased by that revelation. "Ah, this may align with our request, then. I would like to place you on a rather lucrative retainer to serve as my personal security escort and consultant."

Well, I will be damned. "Sure."

"You don't wish to know the details?"

"Nah. You already said you owe me a debt, I figure anything you come up with is going to be more than fair to me."

Willow Schnee looked bemused. "I am unused to… this level of candor and bluntness."

"Oh… sor-"

"That was not a criticism, Rhodes. It's a welcome deviation." She turned to Winston. "Please coordinate with Rhodes regarding contract with this… hmm… you would not prefer to be contracted directly?"

"Nope. I've got a good relationship with BAST. I'd like to keep it."

"But surely you could-"

"It's fine." Her eyes narrowed at the interruption. "Ah, sorry, I interrupted you. Bad habit."

Willow arched an eyebrow. "I remember you being much more… cautious in how you spoke with me, previously."

"I was worried for your health. You seem much better now. Is that going to be a problem?"

Is it? I've been surrounded by yes men or abusive manipulators for the last twenty years, Winston excluded. Perhaps this bluntness is what I need. "No… or at least, I will tell you if it is."

"Sounds good to me."

"Very well. As I was saying, and please do not interrupt, I will have Counselor Carrigan contact you regarding the contract itself. Winston will arrange for you to visit the manor to review my particular security requirements and habits."

"Thank you, Willow. How are you feeling?"

Willow blinked. "I'm fine." He raised an eyebrow, and kept it raised until Willow frowned. "You are prying."

"If I'm in charge of keeping you alive, I'm going to be prying. But ignore me. We can talk in person later." Willow's white brows lowered further, and she took another sip of wine. But Rhodes noticed that behind her, Winston looked somewhat pleased. "But anyway, it's good to see you doing better. I really was worried."

"Thank you, Rhodes. And I look forward to speaking with you again in person."

The paperwork from Carrigan was… surprising. An annual retainer of 200k lien, with a limit on how many hours he was expected to work for that pay, plus a hefty overage and hazard pay. He was expected to wear Schnee colors when on premises, but not necessarily when it was a field assignment. He knew that BAST would only cut 10% for themselves, and that suddenly meant that he had money to actually buy an apartment. But he might not have to, because the stupid contract included, should he opt for it, a modest suite on-premises too.

"What. The. Hell. I might actually live to see my 40th birthday…" Rhodes looked back at the last five years. He could draw a direct line from saving young Cinder, to his strengthened ties to Garek, to working for BA, to this. It looked like Cinder was paying him back for his good turn, whether she realized it or not.

The call from Winston was straightforward too. He offered to send a limo the next morning, but Rhodes declined. "Too posh for me. I'll grab a cab."

"Very well, Mr. Rhodes. And thank you again. I look forward to speaking with you further regarding our employer's peculiar situation."

As Winston gave him a general tour, he decided that the Schnee Manor was… too much.

Overdone. Over-designed. Oversized. It was freaking huge. The central core by itself could have fit the entire family. The addition of two separate wings was just… rubbing everyone's face in it. Look at me, I'm a Schnee. Don't you wish you were rich like me?

And that was the point, he realized. The house wasn't designed to be a place you lived in. It was designed to lord it over everyone, to be a symbol.

The main entrance hall was huge, with gargantuan suits of white armor and a sweeping staircase.

The manor appeared to be divided into three major sections. The front core included five single story front sections that were primarily receiving and exhibition areas. Behind that, the main central structure was two stories high and contained additional areas for entertaining guests, and included a formal dining area, a modest (by their definition) two-story banquet hall, music room, and lounges, and a two-story library.

The left and right wings, larger than the central building, were apparently split between the family members.

The right wing contained a large Banquet Hall on the first and second floors, with multiple rooms primarily used by Jacques on the perimeter. The second story rooms included Jacques' Bedroom Suite, Study, VIP Dining Room, and VIP guest rooms, while the first floor housed kitchens and servant quarters.

The left was similar, except the ground floor included a private sparring arena, theater, gymnasium, indoor pool, and further servant quarters and kitchens. The second floor focused on Willow and the children's suites, private family dining areas, tutoring rooms, small lounges as well as additional guest rooms.

A building in the left rear housed the power transfer station and standby power generation building. Between the two, in the rear courtyards, were flower gardens, fountains, and other gardens.

Rhodes took it all in, until he finally was led to Willow's personal parlor to find her seated and awaiting him.

"I've taken the liberty of having a guest suite prepared for you in the family wing. I assumed given your responsibilities, you would wish to be nearby," She informed him as he lowered himself happily into a comfortable chair.

"Yep. That's perfect." Willow swirled her drink, and gestured for him to continue. "So, why don't you walk me through a typical day for you. Show me what rooms you use, how you spend your time there."

Willow nodded. "Normally I arise later in the morning, and Winston brings a late breakfast to me here." Rhodes noted that it was rather early, and Mrs. Schnee was already drinking. That did not bode well. He frowned but didn't comment. "I will check on Weiss and Whitley, ensure they have eaten and are beginning their tutoring lessons for the morning." Rhodes nodded. "Then I will often read here as well. Winston brings me books from the family library, if needed."

"Okay."

"And then… lunch I suppose?"

"Where?"

"Ah, here in my parlor again."

"I see. Why not eat with your children?"

Willow gave a pained look. "They are often… busy and I do not… wish to disturb their studies. My schedule is erratic."

"Alright. And after lunch?"

He could see she was struggling. "I am… unsure. It depends."

"All right then, how about you go about your day, normally, and I'll just tag along."

She appraised him with pale blue eyes, frowning slightly. "Is this necessary? Should you not be… evaluating the internal and external security?"

Oh I'll do that. He thought. "Maybe I can explain this way. When I go to a village that has hired me to evaluate their defensibility, do you know what the first thing I do is?"

"Evaluate the walls?"

"Nope. First thing I do is spend a day or two wandering around the town. Visit the town hall, talk to the mayor or leader, have some drinks at the tavern, visit shops, talk to random people. Might even visit the closer farms outside the walls."

Willow frowned. "For what purpose?"

"Because walls are great, but without people willing to defend them, they won't last five minutes. I need to understand the people who live there, what their motivations are, how they are likely to react under stress. BA… ah, sorry, my boss Reggie, calls it 'evaluating the attack surfaces' but I think he got the term from our IT guru. After I understand that side of things, then I can evaluate the defenses… walls, gates, lookout towers, weapons… and I'll understand how those will be actually used."

"I… see… so you must understand us, to understand how a threat will be reacted to."

"Bingo. And I hate to be blunt, but I need to know where you will be relative to your kids at 11:00 on a given day, and how you and they would react to a threat to the other. Will they run for their rooms? Seek you out? Hide? These are important. And to understand that, I need to get to know your schedule, interests, and how you react to each other, at least a little."

"I had not imagined this. Our SDC security teams have never required this," she objected.

Rhodes frowned. "And that's how you were able to end up outside a banquet hall, unescorted and in danger."

She shuddered. "True. Very well. Let us proceed." She stood and he followed her from opulent parlor to opulent hallway.

He hung back as she worked her way through the manor. For the most part, he pretended to read his scroll, trying to prevent being a distraction. But it was difficult. Because he saw the problem almost immediately. "Ma'am."

"Willow," she corrected.

"Willow, I'm not going to dictate your habits… but if you keep drinking at this pace, it's going to be a very short day."

She blinked, looked at the cocktail in her hand, and then back up at him. He could see her starting to get angry, and he raised his hands. "I'm not telling you that you can't have a drink, or two, or three." He considered, pulled out the big guns. "You said you owe me a debt for saving your life. I'm calling in a portion of it. I need you to let me provide a little guidance on your pacing."

She stared at him, emotions warring on her face, then deliberately set the glass onto a nearby table. Her hands were shaking.

Oh. Oh shit.

"Wait. Let's… be reasonable here." He nodded to Winston. "Can you get us something to cut that with? Say half?" He turned back to Willow, "But please, pace yourself as much as you can."

Willow struggled with what he was offering. The truth was, she had already been trying. It was nearly 11:00, and she had been trying. Somewhere deep down, she knew why she'd been having trouble describing her normal day.

It was because, by noon, she was normally safely cushioned behind a wall of alcoholic haze. Cushioned against the guilt for being absent for her children, against the knowledge that Jacques saw her as a tool, against the loss of her oldest daughter.

But since the attack, she had been trying. And it hurt. She was trying so hard, and her hands shook. She looked at Rhodes, and saw understanding as Winston returned with the diluted cocktail.

I will… try harder, she promised herself as she took the glass. "The children will be with their tutor now." She turned. "Let us go see how they are faring."

, , ,

The two children were in the middle of lessons when they arrived. Winston tapped on the doorway to announce their presence..

"Ah, Mistress Schnee, to what do we owe the pleasure?" The tutor, an older woman, was wary.

"I wished to see how my children were doing."

Twelve-year-old Weiss was slightly confused, but politely asked, "Who is our guest? Is he a friend of Father's?"

The younger Whitley seemed openly surprised, but pleased. "Hello Mother," he said, blinking.

"Hello Whitley. And no, Weiss, this is Mr. Rhodes. He is the Huntsman who I told you about. He will be helping to protect us and wishes to see what our normal day looks like."

"Oh…" both children's mouths made a shape of wonder, and Weiss especially looked interested.

"Didn't mean to interrupt the lessons," Rhodes said. "Don't mind us, we'll be wandering around all day."

"Not a concern," the tutor said.

. . .

The lessons were fine. Rhodes let his eyes scan over the windows overlooking the rear courtyard below as the tutor droned on. They stayed for about an hour, until Willow's glass was empty, and he could see she was fretting.

"Let's go get you a refill," he whispered.

"They will be serving lunch in my parlor shortly."

"What about the kids?"

Willow's brow furrowed, "They will be served…"

"In about an hour," Winston added helpfully, "In one of the family dining rooms." Willow's expression tightened, looking pained.

"Alright, let's go eat, then."

, , ,

Lunch was delicious. Probably better than he'd eaten in the best restaurants he'd ever dined at. Rhodes watched as Willow hungrily eyed the bottle of wine that was placed on the table. Winston poured her a glass, and offered one to Rhodes as well.

"Sorry, I'm on the clock. Maybe with dinner." He watched Willow consume the wine. Sip was too dainty a word for what she did. She almost gulped a quarter of the glass. "Can you bring Willow some fruit juice?" He saw that look of anger and frustration again. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she deflated.

"I had not anticipated… that I would be hiring a minder," she grumbled.

"Keeping you alive involves more than just getting shot in the back and kicking their asses, if you'll forgive the language, Willow. What happens if we're attacked, and you can't understand me, or fail to run when I need you to?"

"I'm…" She put her head in her hands. "I don't know if I can do this."

"I'm betting you can, once you understand what I'm asking. I'm not trying to cut you off. I'm not demanding you stay sober. But I need you functional, so I'm going to be pushing you a little." He lifted a hand. "Just a little. You can do that for me, right?"

Just a little. She looked at the glass in her hand, and saw that Winston had brought a carafe of some mixed juice and had poured her a glass of that as well. "I'll try."

. . .

She managed to nurse two glasses of wine through the entire meal. After lunch, they checked in on her children again. They were eating quietly in a smaller dining room with seating for six. The food there was essentially the same as what she and Rhodes had eaten.

"How are you enjoying lunch?" Willow asked as they entered. Her face was slightly flushed, but she wasn't wobbling and her speech wasn't slurred.

Weiss was the most surprised to see her, and kept looking between her mother, Rhodes, and Winston.

"I don't like the sprouts, mother," Whitley said brightly. "But I ate them because Klein said I must."

"Klein is correct. And sometimes we must do things we wish we did not have to." She gave Rhodes a pointed look.

"It's… good to see you again, Mother." Weiss said carefully. "Would you like to join us?"

"Thank you, Weiss, we have already eaten." She considered. "But I will sit with you for a few minutes." She took a seat across from the children, and Rhodes sat two chairs down. "How were your lessons?"

Mrs. Wheet is a good instructor. We like her subjects." Whitley frowned. "Tomorrow is Mr. Gort."

"Oh, you do not like Mr. Gort?"

"He's very… strict," Weiss supplied neutrally.

"Ah."

. . .

The conversation carried on for another thirty minutes as the children ate, and he could see Willow again beginning to fidget.

"Well, sorry to break up the party, but we need to move along. Winston?" The butler gave an understanding nod, and moved to the door, holding it open.

They moved to the library, and Winston then met them there with another cocktail, and a second of juice.

Willow appeared at a loss.

"You don't normally do this, do you?" Rhodes asked.

"I… apparently not, considering my children's reactions. I don't… I thought that I did, perhaps." She sighed sorrowfully. "I feel like I am slowly waking up from a… not a dream. Not a nightmare…"

"More like after getting hit in the head. You're doing great."

"Yes. Thank you for your… minding. I've tried…"

"It's not easy. There are support groups, specifically because most people can't hire someone to stand around and watch them every moment." He grinned. "So, you're getting the luxury treatment."

"Ugh." Willow shifted in the deeply cushioned seat and gave him a sour look. "This does not feel like five stars." She glared at her glass of juice, and took a drink of it.

"Well, if it helps, after dinner I'm happy to open the tap."

A hunger and revulsion dragged at Willow at the same time. She wanted that. She wanted to crawl inside a bottle. Well not exactly want, but she needed it physically. And she was beginning to believe that she hated that need. She had seen her children's faces today. They acted as if they didn't recognize the person they were seeing.

And they liked the person they were seeing now. It ate at her, she needed… a drink.

"So what do you like to read?" Rhodes interrupted her musings.

Willow blinked. Really, she wasn't sure. Anything that didn't tax her too much, demand too much thought. She realized suddenly that it had been just an excuse to look like she was doing something while she drank.

Gods… I am pathetic.

Rhodes saw the self-loathing expression on her face, and looked down at her wrist. She was still wearing an elastic there from his earlier suggestion. He reached over, pulled it back suddenly, and let it go with a snap. Willow yelped, almost knocked over her glass, and grabbed at her wrist, glaring at him in shock.

"How dare-"

"Shock." He grabbed her shoulder, and gave it a slight squeeze. "And now awwwww. I'm sorry. You were spiraling. At least now you're pissed at me instead of yourself."

Willow blinked. "You are infuriating, and have taken liberties."

"You owe me, remember?"

Her nostrils flared. "I regret my words."

"For now. You'll be glad later. Pick out a book for me."

She did, and as a petty revenge, chose something insipid for him.

They sat there, Winston lingering nearby with an inscrutable expression, both pretending to read while Willow slowly drained her cocktail, then two glasses of juice, then they made their way toward her suites for a visit to the washroom. She was unsteady, but still mobile.

"Winston, can you arrange for dinner with the kids?" Rhodes asked while she was inside. The older man nodded, and left, returning as Willow exited her suite. He could tell she'd taken a drink of something a bit harder while in there. That was fine. She was still vertical. He could work with vertical. Winston led them to the dining room.

"Oh…" Willow said, as she realized where they were going.

"Yeah, I thought it would be nice if you dined together. Easier for me to keep an eye on things," it was true, but also he had ulterior motives. He had done some easy math on the situation in the household, and the numbers were adding up to some pretty heavily negative numbers, and he was beginning to suspect where he had leverage to make some improvements.

Both the young Schnee's seemed bewildered by her presence this time, though they rallied quickly. She was able to make small talk, and limited herself to two glasses of wine during the meal.

It was only after both children were seen to their rooms by Klein that her composure finally collapsed. "Need assisht…" Her façade collapsed, words slurring and head drooping toward the table. "Drnk…srry." she moaned.

"You did great, Willow. Perfect. Let's get you to your rooms." With Winston's help, they levered her up and supported her, and Winston saw her to her bed while Rhodes lingered in her parlor until he returned.

"Sorry about that. I tried to-"

Winston halted him with a hand on his shoulder. "Master Rhodes, that was exceptional." Rhodes took note of the change in title. The older man was shaking his head in disbelief. "Simply exceptional. I feel… jealous at what you've accomplished, and overjoyed. I have tried. And failed. And yet…"

"Ah… that bad?"

"She has suffered… significant unkindnesses. Over the past two years, I have watched a loving mother retreat to the point she barely knew her children. She has tried to change since the attack, and made some progress… but this… unexpected." He looked at Rhodes. "My debt to you increases, Master Rhodes."

"I'm already getting paid for this."

"No, I don't think you are. Not for this. But you look exhausted. May I get you anything?"

"No, you're right, but I'm just going to go crash."

The room was comfortable. His suitcase had already been unpacked for him, which shocked him. And the bed was luxurious. His last thought before he fell asleep in his clothes was, this family is more screwed up than Cinder was...

The next day was much the same, except Willow seemed to cope incrementally better. The children were starting to warm up more, especially ten-year-old Whitley.

Then they hit the afternoon tutoring with Mr. Gort. Winston was busy elsewhere, with Willow and Rhodes observing the class from the side of the room.

Whitley let his attention wander for a moment, glancing out the windows.

There was loud snap and a yelp as a heavy wooden pointer cracked down across the young boy's knuckles. "You will pay attention, Master Whitley, or-"

"You're not going to do that any more." Rhodes found himself striding forward, already halfway toward the tutor, before he halted himself and growled out the statement.

The man looked affronted. "I don't-"

"No, I don't care what you're about to say. You're not going to touch either of them. If they need discipline, you'll tell them to behave. If that doesn't work, you'll tell Willow and she'll handle it. You're not touching them."

The tutor drew himself up, sneering at the Huntsman. "I don't believe you have the authority to-"

"Mr. Rhodes is communicating my instructions to you, Mr. Gort. You would do well to obey them, if you wish to keep your position," Willow stated coldly. Rhodes was pleasantly surprised by the affirmation, though it in fact had not been something they had even discussed, much less agreed on.

Gort retreated in the face of the Mistress of the House. "I… yes, of course, Mistress Schnee."

The look on the kids faces, as they stared from Rhodes to Willow, was priceless. It gave him a nice warm feeling inside that reminded him of the first time he'd talked to Cinder after they'd gotten her to Argus.

Willow managed to make it all the way through dinner again, before they helped her unsteadily to her suite.

Rhodes found himself less exhausted this time, and decided a little evening spar would be nice. Winston guided him to the manor's custom arena, and showed him how to enable the practice automatons. These guys really spare no expense, he mused as he looked over the range of options. He had a nice workout, and finally hit a shower and bed. This time in proper night clothes.

One day followed the next and it was Friday. He gave broad updates to Reggie and Garek, mostly just that he was settling in, and that things were proceeding with the client. He opted to stay onsite through the weekend, since otherwise he'd just end up back at the hotel. He was a Huntsman. He was used long stretches of work without breaks.

And things were improving. Slowly, incrementally. Willow was now taking every meal with her children. And the children were becoming more and more open and relaxed around her, and that was reinforcing her ability to… well the best word would be procrastinate the next drink. She needed it… wanted it… loathed it… and she could push it off another five minutes, ten minutes.

By the end of the weekend, she was able to make it all the way through dinner and make it back to her parlor unaided. And then got quietly blitzed there with a much shorter trip to her bed.

It was also by then that Rhodes obtained an audience in what had become his daily spar.

. . .

"He's so fast." Whitley murmured from the shadowed window overlooking the arena.

"Yes. He's very agile. And powerful. I wish I could be a Huntress," breathed Weiss.

"Why can't you?" Whitley turned questioning eyes to his older sister. In his mind, she could do anything!

"Because I'm to be the heir," she said sadly. "Father is already very angry because of Winter. If I told him I wanted to be a Huntress…"

Whitley bit his lip. "He'd be even angrier… and then I'd have to be the heir. I don't want you to leave like Winter did." Whitley said, slightly panicked.

"I won't leave you, Whitley," Weiss promised, and squeezed her younger brother's hand.

They watched a little longer.

"Mr. Rhodes is very nice," Whitley said, happily.

"Yes. He is. He is kind," she agreed. "And Mr. Gort is now wary of him. This is a bonus."

"Mother is much better, now, too."

"Yes. She is that as well. She-" Weiss gasped as Rhodes did some sort of complicated dual-mace block, then dropped, spun, and knocked the legs out from under an automaton. "Oh, that was elegant!"

"Father doesn't like Huntsmen. He says… that they are…"

"…useful idiots." Weiss finished. "But father doesn't know everything, Whitley." The boy gasped at the impossibility of that statement. But Weiss was older than he, perhaps she was right.

What Rhodes and the two youngsters didn't know, was that there was an additional observer. Willow was very very buzzed, but still quite conscious at the late hour.

And she was watching live footage of the arena on her scroll while she lay in bed, sipping a night cap. Over the previous two years, before she'd descended completely into an alcoholic haze, she'd installed discrete cameras into all of Jacques' personal and private spaces, and most of the guest areas as well, for her own protection.

As she watched Rhodes move with a Huntsman's grace and power, she found herself impressed and engrossed.

Perhaps more… no definitely more than was appropriate.

[A/N] Special thanks to recent reviewers Rookie80, AgentDraakis, OldGoldMo, and anonymous guest! I hope this follow-up chapter scratched that itch a bit, though we'll be returning back to happenings elsewhere for a bit before we swing back to see what Shneenanigans are going on in the Schnee Manor!

Rookie: Brother you gotta stop reading my brainwaves! And thanks for the ideas on faunus traits!

AgentDraakis: A Schnee is very discrete!

OldGoldMo: You know it!

Anon Guest: You get a 2 chapter arc, then a gap before we pick up the next chapter. Sorry about that! This little oopsie is definitely gonna case some waves!

And thus we find that an near-death experience and Rhodes being his charming, rakish self is serving as a catalyst for Willow emerging from an alcoholic fog. This is a full result of the butterfly effects of Garek and Selene intervening with Cinder and Watts becoming more frustrated with Salem's lack of activity.

And Willow is becoming... more interested than is perhaps appropriate.

Next Chapter will be in Solitas, and will involve the SDC, but nowhere near the Schnee household!