Nitocris hardened her jaws as the airship made its descent on Atlas. A pharaoh's teeth does not chatter. A pharaoh does not feel the biting cold of the northern hemisphere during the colder months. A pharaoh should also not lie to herself when evidence to contrary was so apparent that the senior passenger next to her offered a scarf and paid for a hot cup of cocoa because said pharaoh didn't wish to let anyone know that she was feeling cold and was too awkward to ask now that she made a fool of herself trying to assure everyone else that she could handle the cold without them asking her in the first place.

"She must be from Vacuo," they all said. "They always like to act tough," the ruder ones tend to add. Others were chuckling to themselves. The few faces that Nitocris managed to catch looked away. Some were shaking their heads while others weren't surprised at the person who was so obviously a first-timer.

As a Servant, as royalty, she had to keep her head held high. Not only was she pharaoh but she was representing Vacuo as a whole. She may not be that involved with Shade Academy but she was still an important piece in this battle for Remnant. Though battle may not be the right word. Not once did anyone raise a sword as far as she had heard. It was a cold battle but not as cold as Atlas' skies. A pharaoh does not complain about the temperature. A pharaoh absolutely would complain about the temperature.

The air outside was warmer than the inside of the airship. All that air coming from the airship was heating Nitocris so suddenly that it did not feel well even for a Servant. The faint hint of metal did not bode well for her nose. She was far away from her Maiden. There was no effect on it yet. Then again, she could feel some kind of weakness in her. She was a proper Servant with lowered parameters is what she could guess. Perhaps if Starr had supplied her with magical energy, Nitocris could perform better.

Now was not the time. She shook her head and continued on. She was to meet with the other Servants, one of whom had made his identity known to all others and with a face recognizable from the records. Nitocris bore the cold once again as she stepped into the airport and waited for her things to arrive. When they did, haste quickened her steps. Joints in the toes and fingers cracked with each step. Every stiff muscle had been loosened. Wheels rolling was the only sound that reached her ears. Not even the announcement of flights being delayed was enough to grab her attention; it was not her flight so she didn't care.

The warmth of the sun received a better welcome. Cool air still blew but those rays of light felt good enough that Nitocris wished herself to be a sunflower and face towards it for the entire day. She coughed and fixed herself; people had been staring and murmuring. She kept moving. Atlas Academy was nearby and she had spent hours memorizing the path towards it.

It was unnecessary for Atlas Academy was its own tourist spot. The grandeur of the huntsman academy was greater than even that of Shade. There was a military station there that even without the tourists, transfer students, and professional huntsmen gathering there, Nitocris would have found it without problem.

Atlas was a kingdom that prides itself in its tall buildings and structures. Strict discipline was enforced for the streets were cleaned and maintained by machines. Atlas' students trained publically in parks with a designated area to prevent any ammunition from hitting the civilian populace. But that didn't stop them from coming closer to watch.

Dust shops were everywhere, most of which bore the snowflake symbol of the Schnee Dust Company. A political campaign was still on-going between Robyn Hill and Jacques Schnee. News reports across different stations overshadowed each other that no one could understand unless they picked one to hone their hearing towards.

It didn't take long for Nitocris to see Atlas Academy. Stalls of many kinds were being set up. Decorations were put up, welcoming the transfers for the coming Vytal festival. Even Atlas' students were involved as their classes must have been called off just for this.

Nitocris stood just outside the gate. Her license and identification with Shade was enough for the guards to let her in. She was a pharaoh. A pharaoh walks with dignity and grace. A pharaoh did not hurry and would enjoy the sights of neighboring kingdoms as she would visit. A pharaoh absolutely did not wish that everyone would stop looking at her as she walked through the hallways of Atlas academy.

An elevator led her to the top of the Academy. She stepped out and kept walking down the hallways and announced her presence. Employees paid her no mind other than the occasional glance. Most eyes were hidden by the cubicles that split them from their fellows. She knocked on the door at the end of it and opened with force, grabbing the attention of anyone nearby.

"I have come to represent Shade Academy!" Nitocris declared. "I am Caster!"

"You are the Servant from Vacuo," the headmaster whom she knew to be the General of Atlas said before Nitocris could continue. Ironwood checked his watch. "You're early. The other Servants aren't scheduled to arrive until late in the afternoon. Well, early evening really, they've been delayed is what I heard. But that is to be expected with the Vytal Festival."

Her cheeks puffed and her eyes went from side to side. Was the man not even going to look up and see her face?

"Also you might want to change your outfit. While I will not judge your clothing choices there in Vacuo, not only is that horribly ill-equipped up here in the north, it is also rather provocative and I am now going to expect some complaints from half the student body and praises from the other."

Nitocris went red and immediately changed her outfit. Her usual attire had been used and she quickly turned it into something more conservative. It was a kind of outfit that made her feel like she could be an idol or something.

"So." Ironwood put both elbows on his desk. "Is that going to be how you wished to be addressed as, Caster? And is that how you're going to be speaking over the course of your stay? Because I can assure you that no other Servant will speak in that manner."

She bit her lip. She sighed. "True Name: Nitocris. Pharaoh of Egypt."

"Pharaoh?"

"How has none of the other Servants told you yet?" Nitocris' face twisted at the offense of ignorance.

"They know you to be a Caster-class," Ironwood answered. Eyes still deadpanned and without much color to them. "Doctor Jekyll would have told me about the relevant details had he known your identity. As such, he chose to tell the barest minimum as everything else is dependent on the individual Servant."

"And how are you acting this way right now?" Nitocris couldn't get her eyes away from those unfeeling pair on Ironwood's face.

She didn't get her answer before someone else had entered the office. "Specialist Winter Schnee, sir!" Winter Schnee's face had shock on them. Then her eyes burned just like Starr's, a Maiden.

Ironwood suddenly and nearly collapsed on his desk. He shook his head and massaged his temples. He was breathing heavily "You have my thanks, Schnee."

"Only doing my duty, sir." Winter soon noticed Nitocris in the room. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Ironwood answered, "only that I have made a poor impression on our companion here." He stood up and offered a hand. "General James Ironwood. I apologize but the Vytal Festival's preparations had taken its toll on me. My semblance, Mettle, had been activated just to maintain focus and accomplish my goals. It would seem that it had come into practice because of the Vytal Festival."

Now that Nitocris looked again. There was color in the man's eyes again. "Nitocris," she introduced again. "Caster of Vacuo. I… apologize for any rude behavior."

Ironwood waved his hand in dismissal. "Water under the bridge. This is Winter Schnee, Winter Maiden."

Winter nodded once. "You are of similar case as my child."

"Jack the Ripper is no mere child," Nitocris warned.

"I am aware. But that does not change that Jack has become my and Jekyll's child, legally."

"That is also where I wish to draw attention to. Doctor Henry Jekyll. What that man has done has disregarded the matters of the Grail War."

"This is no Grail War," Ironwood defended in Winter's place. Winter had her grip on her sword. "Not one that you Servants would be accustomed to. I apologize on his behalf but he had no knowledge of any of this. From what he had told me, he was never meant to have been here in the first place."

She sighed. "It is to be expected. Very well, but I must caution such things should a proper Grail War ever come to this Remnant."

"I pray that it never does." Ironwood stood from his seat. "Since you're here early, we have yet to make the final cleanups of your dorms. In the meantime, then, I shall be your escort and tour guide. You've been out of the loop." He then addressed Winter. "Schnee, see to it that Nitocris' room is ready by the time we get back. Make it a priority."

"Understood, sir."

She and Ironwood returned to the elevator after some time. Ironwood had to ensure that all his documents were in order before they left. By then, Nitocris had grown more accustomed to the airs of Atlas. There were still a few eyes on her but she knew that it wasn't because of her. She may pass for a jackal faunus but it wasn't those traits that took anyone's attention. It was the presence of her current companion and escort that took that attention. The general of Atlas grabs attention by his sheer military air. Soldiers and Atlas students instinctively stopped and saluted the man before he dismissed them all, putting them at ease.

Ironwood brought Nitocris to an opera house. "One of our enemies is this character called Phantom of the Opera. You know of him?"

Nitocris' eyes widened in surprise. But she nodded. "An Assassin-class Servant, I assume?"

"Very much so. We now suspect that he has plans for this year's Vytal dance. But our realization of his identity came too late and we could not simply back away from using this venue, not with Jacques Schnee running for office; he will use this to further his own interests. I have already prepared the necessary arrangements and contingencies to address this. But I would still welcome your input."

Ironwood offered her a hand as he gestured for them to enter the opera house. Nitocris took it and noticed the cold feeling of those gloves. There was a mechanical feel to it that only later she realized that it was a prosthetic; bits of the metal peeked out of those gloves as the two entered the opera house.

Strong scents of paint invaded their noses that their faces contorted to something hideous as they both shielded themselves from that odor. Nitocris would give compliments at the appearance though. The art and décor was certainly not something from her time period but she could appreciate the artistic flair given to this opera house.

It wasn't something that she would associate with Atlas either. Though the colors were dominantly white, that was more for the marble designs. Curtains added the variety there with their velvet-reds and shimmering golds. Lights were being replaced and tested after the cleaning of those sockets and lamp holders. Tiles were still covered in dust as more were brought in and placed. The workers were at it furiously as drills and hammers nearly deafened the ears with their rhythm.

Plant life added further color here. Not only were they not plastic but they were maintained by the most expensive-looking florists with their equally expensive-looking sets. This Jacques Schnee really intended to make the most out of this opera house. The Schnee logo could be seen subtly lurking in the background.

Metallic decorations were either given a new coat of color or were replaced. The sheens of these things were slight, only blinding when there was light.

Wall-mounted candle holders had their waxes removed as new candles were brought in to replace them.

The venue just wasn't fit for what should be an inter-school gathering. This was the kind of ball meant for the upper class, though not quite on the grandeur of Nitrocris' Egypt. She had her biases and her preferences, nothing could change that.

The hallways leading to different boxes were just as full of activity as the rest. She could already imagine walking down these halls with a fancy gown dress, escorted by some lord or noble. With what her current escort was wearing, she was already half-way there herself.

One thing that did take her attention was the number of faunus workers among them. Ironwood chose to keep silent on this matter but Nitocris could already take a guess: White Fang. They did not wear their masks obviously, nor did they keep it hidden in some obvious place on their person. But Nitocris had her eyes on their nerves. The jolting and hair-standing stillness when they felt themselves being looked at even when it was their backs that Nitocris was looking at could only be unease.

Eventually, the two met with one mister Ball, ignorant of it all by the looks of it, guided them to a more private room, in one of the boxes. The box seats were perfect places for those who wish to have private conversations without fear of eavesdroppers. This had been no exemption though Ironwood still checked for any devices.

When he had finished, he nodded and fixed his coat. "So, you've noticed them too?"

"That is not a good mind to have, general," Nitocris replied. "I may not be of Remnant but could pass for one of these faunus."

"No." Ironwood shook his head. "It is not. But the fact of the matter is that the White Fang is aligned with Salem, and she has acted right underneath my own nose. Here, in this very opera house, she has made her own base of operations, and I cannot simply act without public reason. My hands are tight enough as it is. I only ask that you act when I cannot."

Her head tilted. Her face was that of warmth. "You need not ask, general of Atlas. You may not be my Master, but Starr and you are aligned towards the same goal; my services to you are my services to her."

As a sort of sign of trust. Nitocris put a hand over the entire concert hall. She had no means of finding anything nor could she figure out which one had which. But she could divine a few things. A few scarabs flew up in the air and whispered in her ear.

"There are mechanisms already in place," she said. "I cannot do much about it, not without putting the foundations of the entire opera house at risk, and there is no telling what Phantom will do should we stop him early. I can have more investigate further and provide a full schematic of the opera house."

Seeing actual surprise in the usually stern and stoic face of the general brought pride to Nitocris' features. She stood tall and, with the expected training and experience, regal fitting from a pharaoh. She beamed with pride.

Ironwood nodded, genuinely grateful got to his face. "Now I'm wondering what your dark side would be."

"Excuse me?" Nitocris raised an eyebrow, offended.

He crossed his arms, denying any intent of offense. "I have been accustomed to Jack whom you'd know as Jack the Ripper and doctor Jekyll has mister Hyde," he quickly explained. "Those two have their good sides, but have made it clear that they have their own shadows!"

For a general, he wasn't acting like one right now. "Very well," Nitocris said. "I shall allow it this once. But know this, general: not every Servant has their own shadow. Others are as sure of themselves as they are of their own divine rights."

"Of course, of course." Ironwood nodded furiously. "I beg your pardon, milady." He cleared his throat and returned to that disposition fitting for a general. "I shall take your advice into deep consideration. This will be most helpful in our battle against Salem."

The two soon made their exit from the opera house. Ever the gentleman, Ironwood offered a hand fitting for an escort. Though there were no stairs and Nitocris certainly wasn't wearing any heels, she was being treated as though she were of noble status, a pharaoh.

Sunlight was nearing its zenith when the two stepped out of the opera house. Activity had begun to slow as vehicles made their stops because people needed a place to eat. For someone like Ironwood, everywhere he would go would attract attention. By extension, all eyes would be on her.

Finding any sort of place with a modicum of privacy was an impossible task that Ironwood brought Nitocris back to Atlas Academy. The only attention that was had there were that students, faculty, and staff saluted the general as though they were soldiers. Most of them were just that, soldiers.

The cafeteria had a table free and Ironwood had treated it as though it were a formal ball. He pulled back the chair and let Nitocris sit first. It was he who brought her a plate.

"This is not quite a good sample of Atlas cuisine." Ironwood placed the plate down. "I hope that this won't deter you from giving my kingdom a chance."

Nitocris chuckled. "They say do not judge before you try, so I shall accept your gracious offering!" She beamed at the praise and humility of the general before her.

She maintained her grace even as she ate. There was occasional talk here and there, mostly comprised of the general being the proudest man of Atlas that she ever knew. Pride glistened his voice as he talked of Atlas from its conception to its present day. It wasn't all joy as he acknowledged the harsher aspects of Atlas' history. Occasional questions were asked but that had more to do with her time in Vacuo.

For all intents and purposes, Nitocris had never been to Atlas. While true, it was to be her cover story and a fitting one at that. Vacuo's citizens have quite the pride of their own kingdom as well that most really never leave their kingdoms and choose to make succeed there. Yet, Ironwood's pride in Atlas was almost comparable to the kind that Nitocris had seen.

Her face rested on her hand as she lazily picked up some fruit and took a bite. Ironwood could on for hours. His passions were enough to keep Nitocris entertained. While the military may not be her preferred topic to get into, the general's pride in them was enough to have even eavesdroppers beam. Nitocris caught them all listening in.

Pleasant times were interrupted when some drunk came barging in. "Yo, Jimmy, you in here? Couldn't even spare me a taxi—oh"

"Qrow? You actually came?" Ironwood stood up. "Ozpin never told me this!"

"That's because I came here willingly to surprise you all." Qrow had both arms out wide. "Some welcoming party. Didn't think I'd get here before them though. But hey, should be expected when you're flying solo!"

Nitocris wasn't quite charmed when Ironwood had introduced her to Qrow. Even with the circumstances and of her status, the bandit did not revere her as pharaoh. However, she knew that this man was at least a close companion to Ironwood and so willingly let it slide.

But misfortune did not end there. There was some commotion coming from further down the hall.

"Jack!" Winter's quickly approaching voice was heard. "No running in the halls!"

"Mister Ironwood, sir!" Jack the Ripper immediately stopped and saluted. Jack didn't wait for Ironwood to salute back before she continued. "Where's father? Is he here yet? Is he here yet?"

"You are too early, little specialist." Ironwood had his chin up. His hands were behind his back but he was not the soldier that most would expect right now; he was humoring a child's imagination. "Agent Jekyll has yet to reach the rendezvous point."

"But mother said that father is coming!" Jack puffed her cheek.

Winter Schnee arrived soon after. "And he will, Jack. Father is still coming." She picked up Jack in her arms. "I'm terribly sorry, general Ironwood, sir!" She cleared her throat. "The dorm has been ready sir." Winter had just noticed the presence of Qrow. "When did you get here?"

"What?" Qrow shrugged. "Just because my nieces ain't competing doesn't mean I ain't visiting. I got friends outside of family, Ice Queen."

Winter Schnee shook her head. "Come on, Jack. Father should be at the airport." She turned around and proceeded to leave only to turn again. "Sir."

"You are relieved, specialist." Ironwood nodded. It was after Winter had left that Ironwood spoke again, addressing Qrow. "It isn't just about visiting old friends is it, Qrow?"

"Took you a while to get it," Qrow affirmed. "But yeah. Ray got out of prison on bail. The guy who put her there in prison, this Vlad, got her out of there too. They're coming here. Probably the last of them to arrive."

Nitocris entered the conversation. "Then, all is settled. All Servants are gathering in one place. I only worry for the state of your kingdom, general."

"Atlas is more capable than Vale," Ironwood boasted. "The number of you Servants may be greater but we have also prepared ourselves. Besides, most of you are at least on the same side."

She waited. When it did not come, she cleared her throat. "I believe I do not know where my dorm is supposed to be?"

"Right." Ironwood bowed his head. "Let me show you your dorm, Nitocris. Follow me."

It was a good thing that Ironwood walked ahead; it gave Nitocris time to give Qrow a stink eye.

"Was I interrupting something?" Qrow asked, genuinely curious. "Sorry 'bout that. I am an unfortunate magnet for… well, unfortunate events."

Nitocris sighed. "I feel pity for anyone unfortunate enough to be tangled with you."

Qrow chuckled darkly. "Yeah. We'd be called mister and miss fortune when that comes. You better go before you lose him, though."

She had to jog. It was good thing that Ironwood noticed and waited for her. It wasn't as pleasant as earlier but Ironwood still gave her a tour of Atlas Academy as they approached her dorm. It was far away from the rest, meant for guests and visiting students primarily for the Vytal Festival.

Her place of stay was plain, giving her the freedom to decorate it as she wished. There was enough space around for some comfort. She nodded. This will be her workshop for the time being; she never did have one back in Vacuo.

Her luggage and things were already there, unopened and untouched. If anything, they had been cleaned of dirt and grime that the little wheels had taken with them when Nitocris had first stepped into and out of the airship. There was no trail that led to the dorm for the floors were squeaky clean.

"Once you have settled in, you may find me in my office." Before Ironwood closed the door, he added, "if not, I am likely entertaining the other Servants once they arrived. In that case, I invite you to join us, Nitocris."

She nodded once and rested there. She did not leave that dorm until a few hours when the others have arrived. This was the dorm for all faculty guests apparently.

Needless to say, when Vlad and Raven arrived, tensions had been fairly high.

AN: Obviously, this fic has Jekyll x Winter in mind. One-sided Phantom x Weiss is more of an attempt at a different kind of relationship. Jack and Whitley was a natural by-product as I was outlining this fic and considering the other Schnee siblings. Ozpin and Fran was meant for a completely different fic entirely. Vlad and Raven has something I have in mind, only unsure with how far I'm willing to go with this.

Nitocris and Ironwood? Not planned at all, didn't even occur to me before writing this chapter. If anything happens, let this AN be proof that it wasn't planned from the beginning.