Chapter Text
1.
The thing about being in love is that it’s hard. Not that Weiss knows about such idiotic emotions or anything, but one glance at Blake and Yang or Ren adn Nora is enough for her to balk at even the idea of feeling that way about another person. It’s a difficult sentiment to grasp, like she’s looking into a void of inky darkness knowing that she’s missing something, but can’t quite understand what. But, it doesn’t necessarily bother her or anything unruly like that, she has her studies, her ambitions, and her sort-of/maybe friends to tide her over until she finishes up at Beacon Academy and heads back to Atlas.
The thing about being in love is that is shouldn’t have happened.
Weiss had a plan, you see, a perfect step by step way to claim her birthright and subtly flip her father off while she waltzes into the sunset, a company in her hands and a legacy to fix. First she’d go to Beacon, she’d be the best, be the leader of an amazing team, get only the highest grades, save a couple of people, and look good doing it. By ‘look good’ she means that she’d build such a startling reputation that the Atlas board members would have no choice but to be civil with her, and then she would strike—coiled like a snake with fangs twice as sharp—taking over the SDC by an effective but brutal coup d'etat.
Sure, the first couple of steps might’ve been a bit… muddled, but that didn’t mean she couldn't jump out on top of anything, after all she still didn’t have too many pressing distractions—
She wakes up in a cold sweat one day in the middle of the night and finds that every standard she’d held herself up to had been effortlessly shattered by the careless whims of an overactive imagination.
“Shit.” She mumbled to herself. “Oh shit.”
Normally she wouldn’t ever be so crass, but the revelation she had called for a bit of the more… unsavory parts of her vocabulary to come forward. She closes her eyes, trying to banish the pictures from her mind—hair like fire and eyes like mirrors—forcing herself to take a deep breath and calm down.
It’s safe to say it doesn’t quite work out the way she hoped for.
The morning after is a torturous affair. Make-up hides the dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes, her face is paler than before—making all of her features look altogether more sharper and cruel. Cold. She looks into the mirror. Her face is cold.
“Whoa! You good, Ice Queen?” Her teammate Yang asks her when Weiss leaves the bathroom, clothes impeccably straightened out and a sense of total aloofness in her posture. The girl scratches at a mane of blonde hair sheepishly. “You’re up earlier than usual.”
Weiss knows immediately that there is no way to talk Yang out of her concern. She knows it’s because, though she doesn’t seem like it, she always tends to sleep in a little later than the rest of her teammates—only because living at the manor conditioned her to wake up extremely early. So, she liked to take a little extra time to rest in the mornings at Beacon, a small insult to her unknowing father and a tiny reward for making it out of his grasp.
“Fine.” She snapped back. Her voice is chillier than intended, but she does not allow her expression to falter. Weiss doesn’t bother to provide an explanation to Yang, picking up her school bag and leaving the dorm before Ruby and Blake can wake up.
The day only gets harder after that.
Somehow, Yang has managed to convince everyone that Weiss is having a bad day—making it so that she is constantly being flocked by good company and kind smiles. It’s something she’d normally appreciate, not being alone with her thoughts for too long, and her team knows how she gets after the occasional phone call with a family member—so they know how to combat her negativity and make her feel better.
Here’s the thing, this bad mood is entirely different than the ones she’s usually thrown into by her father. (So she’d really just rather be alone and sulk a little, maybe try and process that she’s never going to be able to settle her heart in peace .)
Pyrrha follows her around.
It makes Weiss want to rip her hair out.
Pyrrha is usually someone who can cheer up Weiss quite easily during an especially bad day, and now that she thinks about it—so is Ruby. But considering the fact that a good half of her inner turmoil is being caused by her, Weiss can’t really find it in herself to relax.
Her stiffness only seems to worry Pyrrha more.
During second period, she notices the worried glances that the taller girl keeps shooting her (not too subtly) and suddenly has the strangest desire to cry . (Which is strange, considering she’s not shed a single tear since she was twelve.) She catches her gaze once, and Weiss can feel herself soften—can feel her eyes daze and her shoulders slump backward. Weiss Schnee, ice block incarnate, melts.
Pyrrha is warm. She is part of the fire in the hearth of a soul, she brings care and tenderness to every being she makes contact with—every aura she inadvertently touches. It is as if though with a single lock of their gazes that Weiss can feel her hands brushing against the frost that aligns her cheekbones, the small icicles that hang from her fine blonde eyelashes, turning the ice that coats her body to steam.
This only makes Weiss even more frustrated, so she snaps back to the lesson, shoulders higher and posture stiffer than it had been before.
“Weiss.” Pyrrha stops her on the way to their next class. “Are you well?”
It makes her jaw lock up tight, teeth clenched and nose wrinkled. Her tongue is glued to her mouth, she is unable to utter a single word, and she finds herself able to do nothing but look into Pyrrha’s eyes. They are so green —a flame, a Greek fire. (Weiss finds herself wondering if this color actually exists, or is it claimed by Pyrrha alone, unique and special in all the ways the warrior in front of her is.)
“Weiss?” Pyrrha asked again, and no amount of ignorance can stop her from hearing the concern in her voice.
“Fine.” She manages to spit out. “I’m fine.” Maybe if she says it enough it will come true.
“Hey.” Pyrrha says, and the way she sounds—like velvet and silk and everything soft or gentle in the world—makes Weiss want to cry. The warrior places a comforting hand on her shoulder, her fingers effortlessly wrapping themselves around her shoulder blade and steadying her with idle taps to her skin. “I’m here if you need to talk, I care about you, okay?”
Pyrrha’s touch burns.
(Weiss wonders if her clothes will have singe marks where her hands settled upon her.)
The desire to open up is there faster than a bullet, though the wound in her heart bleeds out all the same. “I’m fine.” Weiss says. She looks away, unable to face the look in Pyrrha’s eyes.
I’m scared. I’m so so very scared. Pyrrha what am I supposed to do? You are so wonderful and loving and kind and I want to kill seven different people every other minute!
“I’m fine.” She whispers again. (A repetition: 'if she says it enough, she might even start to believe it.')
2.
“What do you mean Pyrrha couldn’t cheer her up?!”
Weiss freezes the second she opens the door to her dorm. There is a split second where her face is one open and easily readable, where there is fear and sorrow and self-loathing so plain as day on her face even the most oblivious could make sense of her. In a flash it is gone—replaced only by contempt. (She isn’t faking it, she does not appreciate being talked about like this.)
She decides to be cruel. Weiss walks into the room undeterred, no hesitation in her stride as she makes her way to her bed. She easily removes her school bag from her person, swiftly putting her things away as she idly taps her fingers against the hem of her skirt.
Her team watches on in silent horror.
Weiss ignores them.
She wonders if she should go to the library… yes, that’s a good idea. There she could make a call to Atlas and try and make contact with Winter. Her sister is more knowledgeable about personal life management than anyone Weiss has ever met before. (Well, she’s the only one that Weiss trusts enough to not demand answers of her in such a way that her father will know by the next morning. Other than Klein, of course, but he would just tell her to follow her heart, and she doesn’t have the time, or the energy for that.) So Weiss soldiered forward, determination dripping from her eyes instead of tears.
“Weiss?” Ruby’s voice comes out as hopeful, and it makes her hairs stand on end. “Um… listen, about all this—”
“I’m going to the library.” She cuts her off, her back turned to her team. (She doesn’t see Ruby deflate.) “I’ll see you all at dinner.”
“Er—alright.”
Weiss stalks out of the dorm room, legs striding quickly and smoothly, even through her distress she somehow manages to hold a small degree of elegance and sharpness to her movements. Her heels clack against the floor, loud and imposing. Other students who have the misfortune of looking at her while she walks forward are quick to jump out of her way, jerking away from her as if burned. Though she does not show it, she takes a small amount of pleasure from how quick they are to get away from her—a testament to the reputation she has. (If this were happening anywhere but Beacon, she might be disgusted—because anyone else would flee because of the name ‘Schnee,’ but here it is because she is strong, and she has real power.)
She approaches the separate room in the library students use to have long-distance calls and pauses. Her next course of action hinges on the assumption that Winter would (either grudgingly or happily) take a moment from her day to day life to talk to her little sister. The thought alone is enough to make Weiss hesitate outside the door. Winter was unpredictable when it came to these matters. There was a good chance that she may simply tell Weiss to get over it. She chewed on her lip, but there was also a good chance she may genuinely wish to help her.
Weiss supposed she’d have to take that chance.
She found herself sitting in front of a blank screen, leaning onto the palm of her hand as she waited for the call to patch through to Atlas. It had taken her a moment to request where she wanted to call, nervousness and a lingering sense of reluctance shrouding her in a blanket of cowardice. But, she managed to finally place the call, though it may have taken her a moment. She thought that deserved a little praise, and appropriately patted herself on the back.
“Hello, Schnee Dust Company, how may I direct your—” The woman on the screen blinked. “Miss Schnee.” It was a different receptionist than the last time she had called, and for that she was most grateful. “How may I help you?” The woman suddenly sounded much more earnest.
Weiss held back the temptation to roll her eyes. “Yes, I was hoping that you could patch me through to one of my family members.” She couldn’t outright ask for Winter, that would only make it back to her father, and he would begin to pester the both of them until it was revealed why Weiss called.
“Yes, ma’am.” The receptionist nodded her head respectfully, moving to type something into her computer. She hummed a little, making a squeaky ‘ah’ noise when she finally found what she was looking for. “It seems that both your mother and your brother are available to answer a call. Your sister and father are both in meetings until eleven o’clock.”
Weiss tried not to grimace. She couldn’t talk to Winter for another six hours. Chewing on her lip absentmindedly, she swallowed her pride and said, “Please ring my mother.” It was better than trying (and most likely failing) to talk to Whitley, she reasoned, and at least she knew her mother would do all in her power to keep things brief. Bile rose in her throat, oh what a family she'd been gifted.
“Right away, Miss Schnee.” The receptionist hit something on her keyboard, and the screen faded to light gray as the call went through.
Weiss took that moment to release a shaky sigh. It appeared she wouldn’t be able to talk to her sister about her… issue. For a moment, Weiss considered confiding in her mother—but then dismissed the idea entirely. Willow had enough on her shoulders dealing with her father’s… everything, she didn’t need Weiss’ worries on top of that.
The thing about Willow Schnee was that she used to be a good mother, used to hold her children and tell them bed time stories, used to smile and laugh and tell Weiss that she loved her. There had been a warmth about her, a love that seemed unending, irrevocable, unbreakable—but it all changed in a split second. Now her mother was a drunk, confined to the gardens of Schnee manor, hiding in her room from her husband and her children. Her father was a very cruel man, and by the time her mother had seen it, it had been far too late for her—self-destruction was imminent.
The screen blinked back up, and she was met with eyes similar to her own. Only… they are dimmer, glossed over and flecked with gray instead of the lighter shades that are apparent in each of her children. Weiss doesn’t know where the thought comes from, but she finds herself comparing her mother’s eyes to the ocean in a storm, and her own to the much calmer tones of a bright blue sky. Is that how my eyes will look when I’m older? She thinks to herself. Dark and blue and entirely too gone?
“Weiss.” Willow begins, and there is a degree of shock on her face that makes bitterness surge up inside of her—filling every cell in her body, thrumming aside her pulse and throbbing in her fingers and chest.
“Hello, Mother.” She begins, swallowing the spiteful thoughts that threaten to make themselves known. “I wanted to speak with you.” A lie, but Weiss thinks it’s warranted in this situation.
“Did you now?” Willow’s gaze narrows, shrewd and suspicious. Not that she blames her of course, the only one of her children she’s been around is Whitley, and he only talks to her when he wants something. “What about?”
“I—” She grits her teeth, and decides that maybe following through and talking to her mother was a bad idea. “I wanted to check on you.” The sentiment is genuine, even though she had no real desire to ever contact her mother ever again. Weiss loves her, truly she does, but there is always a wall between the two of them—a space that separates them from speaking to each other… like they used to.
Willow hums, saying nothing, her face is blank. Like an unused canvas. Weiss wonders if she’s lost her paint brushes.
“Why are you calling, Weiss?” Willow asks her, and though her voice is soft, it is clear that she does not believe a single word that comes out of her daughter’s mouth.
Weiss grips at the edge of the table tightly. She doesn’t want to be playing these games with her mother, the endless amount of riddles and deception that linger with every interaction the two have. “I wanted to check on you.” She says again, less calmly then the first time. “It is... clear now, that doesn’t matter.” She mumbled bitterly. “I’ll end the call.”
Her mother does not object.
Weiss leaves the library with a colder look than the one she walked in with.
Hours later, she sits outside on a bench, shivering a little and watching the sun set. Orange and yellow bleed into a vivid purple, and Weiss can’t help but be fascinated at the sight of everything. An absolutely painful pang of yearning hits her harder than anything before, and for a moment it hurts to breathe. She wants, Weiss knows that she wants—but for the life of her she can never tell for what.
A small beep goes off in her coat pocket, and she rolled her eyes when she realizes it’s Ruby reminding her that dinner has started. It’s a touching sentiment, which only makes her even more annoyed than before. Still, resolving herself, she rises to her feet and moves to the mess hall. Weiss hopes that her team doesn’t make her participate in a conversation. She gets her dinner silently, only opening her mouth to thank the staff who work there. (They very openly blink in surprise, but Weiss can’t quite muster up the energy to feel offended.) She sits on one of the tables by herself, and hopes to all of Remnant that her team doesn’t find her.
“Weiss!”
She’s never hoping for anything ever again.
Ruby slides into the seat next to her, Blake and Yang plopping themselves down in front of her. Ruby’s smile is one for the record books, bright and beaming and just the right amount of sweetness to make the pain in her chest go away. (Until she realizes that Ruby was one of the reasons she was hurting and all the agony returns as though it never left.)
“You saved us seats.” Ruby begins happily. “I was afraid you wouldn’t bother coming to dinner at all!”
Weiss doesn’t outwardly react, but inwardly she flinches. “Sorry for worrying you.” She mumbled flatly, returning to her meal. It’s spaghetti night. One of the staff had given her an extra piece of bread, she eats that first. (She also makes a note to thank them more often.)
“Oh, um—” Ruby falters, scrambling to say something positive. She makes a pained noise in the back of her throat and shoots a look to her sister that screams ‘help!’
“Say, Ice Queen—” Yang begins, fully expecting Weiss to bristle at the nickname, but frowning when she doesn’t respond. “—you, uh, ran out of the dorm pretty quickly.” She stumbles, and it isn’t hard to see that she and Ruby are actually related. “We… well we kind of wanted to know—” Yang was cut off by Blake’s judgmental groan.
“Listen up, Weiss.” Blake begins, all business. Her voice is blunt enough to make Weiss actually look up at her. “We know that something is wrong—” She barely manages to contain a snort at Blake’s words, “—and we know that you might not want to talk about it, but we want you to know that we’re here for you, and if you need anything you can always rely on us.”
Weiss was momentarily touched, until her moodiness hit her full force when she was met with the arrival of team JNPR.
“Thank you.” Weiss mumbled, as the others settled themselves in. “But I’m fine.”
“Weiss—” Ruby begins, though Weiss isn’t looking at her.
Promptly, because she didn’t believe in staying somewhere she didn’t want, Weiss stood and lifted her tray—dumping the barely touched food in the trash and walking away from them. She knew that by doing this she was only proving to her team that she was not, in fact, fine—but she couldn’t stand to be so near to the afflictions of her heart. She feared she might do something uncouth, or too obvious, and then her heart would be painted for all to see on her sleeve.
A Schnee is never not cordial. She repeated the phrase over and over again in her head. A Schnee is never not cordial.
(A Schnee is never not cordial in front of others who may bring unforeseen consequences on the family for being seen in an unapproved emotional state.)
3.
Here’s the thing: Weiss Schnee shouldn’t be having these feelings. She just shouldn’t be, it just isn’t done—not for her, and certainly not at a time where every move she makes will be scrutinized by the stupid stuffy ‘nobles’ in Atlas. So she does her best to get rid of them, extra studying? She’s on it. What’s that professor? You need someone to leave the class where Pyrrha Nikos and Ruby Rose are in and run down these papers to the headmaster? She’s got it handled. Oh, you need help to run some sort of shady errands in Vale, Neptune? She’ll help, no questions asked.
Anything to get her mind off of things. (Anything to get away from them.)
“You’ve gotta stop doing this.” Sun approached her, hands on his hips, trying to look chastising.
She stiffens immediately, she doesn’t know this boy that well, and she doesn’t really want to. But since she’d helped Neptune with his… errands, he’d been hanging around her more, and that meant Sun was hanging around her more too.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said simply, returning to the essay she was writing. (An extra credit assignment, not that she needed it exactly—but it was a good distraction.)
Sun huffed, sliding onto the library table and leaning over her, blocking the textbook she was reading out of. “C’mon, Chill Girl, you’ve been avoiding everyone but me and Neptune for a month.”
Her eye twitched at the nickname. He’d been trying to find one that suited her for weeks , claiming that he couldn’t copy his best friend and use something like ‘Snow Angel’ something she wasn’t sure she was thankful about yet.
“I’m—”
“Yeah yeah, you’re busy-busy !” His tone was slightly mocking, but there was a small amount of genuine concern in his face that made Weiss hesitate. “I know you’re a bit put out, Killer Frost, but this is starting to get a little ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?” She asked with a sigh, leaning back into her chair and away from him. Sun Wukong had no concept of personal space… now that she thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a good grasp on a lot of social expectations. She wondered if she should be gentler with him, but decided to think about it some other time.
“Well…” He grinned, dragging out the word as shamelessly sprawled himself further onto the table. Sun leaned his head onto the palm of his hand, laying down and facing her. “It’s gotten to the point where your team is pretty convinced your dating me, Neptune, or the both of us.”
She wrinkled her nose automatically. “Gross.”
Sun scoffed playfully, dramatically gasping and placing a palm over his chest. “How rude! These are legitimate concerns of the people!” His teasing smile never faltered. “But c’mon, Ice Cream, we’re friends now, aren’t we? You can trust me, I won’t spill your secrets.” He scowled. “Unlike Neptune, who is a total blabbermouth I swear to God.”
Weiss blinked. Was she… actually considering opening up to him? Worst of all, was she actually okay being friends with him!?
(It appeared the answer to both of those questions was yes.)
“Wukong,” She begins, “have you ever been in love?”
“Oh.” He says, and the look of pure understanding on his face hurts her more than she would care to admit. “Who?” He asks softly, lowering his voice as he leans a little closer to her. There is a small frown on his face, sad and gentle and far too sympathetic for her to handle. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me—obviously, I mean, if you want to open up to me—” He scrambles.
The sight of the usually unflappable Sun Wukong blushing and stuttering is an image that brands its way into her heart. He was usually far too oblivious to realize when something would be embarrassing or uncomfortable for someone else, but he’d gotten to understanding her as a person well enough for him to see what lines exist in front of her. It’s a touching sentiment, and Weiss knows suddenly that she would allow this boy a place next to her for a long time. (Even if that position is granted with much reluctance.)
“It’s Ruby.” She admitted, eyeing him warily. “And Pyrrha.”
He blinks. “Well fuck.” Truly, his eloquence is unmatched.
She cringes at his response, but Sun keeps on talking as though he hadn’t seen her.
“The two of them? Fuck, dude, that’s…” He makes an explosion sound, “Mind blowing, shit—you’re avoiding them, right? This is why…?” He trailed off for a moment. “Pyrrha’s got a really big crush on Jaune, and I don’t think Ruby would ever actually…” He screws up his eyebrows, mouth tipping downward. “I’m so sorry.” Sun whispers solemnly.
“It’s fine.” Weiss states dismissively. "Really, it is."
(Let it be known, that it was in no way, shape, or form—fine.)
He tilts his head in disbelief. “You okay with a hug?” He opens his arms, gesturing her to fall into them. “You look like you need one.”
She considers him. “Scoot over.”
Delighted, Sun moves, pushing back the books and work to the side, making room for Weiss to lay next to him on the table. She scoffs at the sight of his tail swishing, excited and hyper-active. Weiss carefully curls herself next to him, bringing her knees to her chest and pressing her legs against Sun’s own, who’s unconsciously copied her position. It isn’t a hug, isn’t as intimate as bringing their bodies close together and breathing in the aura of the other, but it is enough for her—and for Sun, who smiles so softly when he meets her eyes.
They stay like that for a while, breathing the same air and whispering about trivial things, she thinks it’s what having a close brother is like. (She thinks about Whitley, then, and the guilt she feels is overwhelming. Weiss loves him, truly, she does—but she doesn't think he could ever learn to tolerate her.) Sun notices her frown, and takes her hand—inhibited, words of her brother and disgust and anger at her fill the air. He listens to her, really listens, and something slots into her brain—she understands Sun a little better, after.
She isn’t the only one who vents.
“I miss being able to move around.” He whispers into her hand, bringing it close to his mouth—his breath tickles the skin there. “It’s hard, you know? I’m from Vacuo, one of the tribes.” He doesn’t call his family by their name. “When I moved to Mistral, and started at Haven… I couldn’t do anything.” Sun looked mournful. “It was so strange—staying in one place, being in one area for so long… It made me a bad leader, it still makes me a bad leader.” He closes his eyes, lashes brushing against her fingers. “That’s why my team is here, for the Vytal tournament, I couldn’t stand the idea of staying at Haven so long, so when the opportunity came to jump ship, I took it.”
Sun moves her hand to his forehead, and instinctively she began to play with the blonde wisps of hair that kissed his tan skin.
“I know that Neptune, Sage, and Scarlet don’t blame me—they already know how it was in Vacuo—but that didn’t stop me from feeling like I was letting them down somehow, like I didn’t belong.” Sun admitted softly. “Sage says I’ve been getting better, and that they all think I’m a good leader—but I don’t want to be just a ‘good leader’ I want to be someone they can count on… like Ruby is.” He mumbled, he opened his eyes, watching to see if he was allowed to talk about her.
Weiss continued to stroke his hair, a silent plea for him to continue.
“It was so crazy when I met you guys, your team… Blake.” There’s a glint to his eyes that indicates he understands the turmoil that bubbles inside of her when she thinks of Ruby or Pyrrha. “You all seemed to represent… what I wanted to be, what I wanted all of my team to become.” Sun closes his eyes again. “Ruby was so brave… and so cool—just by being able to keep a clear head and strategizing so that you could take down Torchwick…” He grinned, doing little finger guns with the hand not holding hers. “ ‘Ice-flower!’ She shouted, and you all knew exactly what to do, ’Freezerburn!’” He giggled. “I just want to be able to reach my teammates like she does, to be able to understand them…” He frowns. “I’ve never been too good at understanding when people are angry, or sad—happy is easy, ‘cause I know what happy feels like and I know how to look for it. But angry and sad are hard, ‘cause I can feel them—but I just can’t see them.”
He sighed. “I just sucks, is what I’m trying to say… I don’t want to be the reason my team is totally boned sometimes—let that be Neptune’s fear of water, or Scarlet’s need to have perfect eye-liner all the time!” He pouted, screwing his eyes up tighter. "I just want to be better for them, is all."
Weiss hummed, not stopping as she combed her fingers through his hair. “If you ever need to talk.” She mumbled, “I’m here for you.”
“Thanks Weiss.” Sun smiled, broad and wide. “You’re a good friend.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she shifted awkwardly. “Of course I’m a good friend!” Weiss paused, her voice had been shriller than she meant it to be. Taking a deep breath and realizing she should say something else to him, she clenched her jaw a little, “You are too, by the way... a good friend, I mean.”
Sun smiled wider. “Thanks.”
They stayed like that for a little while longer. Weiss was relaxed, she was okay, and she had the company of a well meaning dunce to make her feel better. It was… nice.
That was, until footsteps began to approach them.
“Oh!” A soft, familiar, voice exclaimed—making Weiss cringe to herself. She turned her head, meeting the gentle green eyes of one Pyrrha Nikos.
“Sup, Pyrrha.” Sun greeted, not bothering to move from his position.
Weiss rolled her eyes, sitting up and ignoring Sun’s whines when she pulled away from him. “Hello.” She greeted, not quite knowing else what to say. She was far too exhausted to deal with the fact that Pyrrha had caught them in a compromising position.
“Weiss.” Pyrrha begins, but her gaze continues to dart between her and Sun, lingering on the lack of space between them. She closes her eyes for a moment, before smiling brightly. “Your team is looking for you.”
Weiss looked away from her, clenching her teeth. She barely noticed Sun place a supportive hand on her shoulder.
“I think it’s time you talk to them.” Sun said. “I know it’ll be super hard, but I think you can do it.” He rubbed her shoulder. “It doesn’t even have to be the biggest problem, just something that justifies your behavior… your team might become imbalanced if you don’t, Snow Empress.”
Weiss can hardly contain her snort. “Snow Empress, really? Was that the best you could come up with?” She played off his words, but knew that what he was saying had real merit. Weiss would have to consider his idea.
“It’s better than Ice Queen.” Sun protested, easily vaulting off of the table and beginning to help her pack her things. He shoves her essay in her bag upside down, but she can’t chastise him for being careful while his words continue to warm her. “I mean, it could be worse, I could be like Neptune—calling you Snow Angel and making those weird flirty eyes he does.” Sun grimaces. “Like, take a hint, dude.”
This time, Weiss doesn’t hide her laugh. “Whatever you say, Wukong.” She turned away from him, allowing her eyes to meet Pyrrha’s. There was something familiar about the way the other girl was looking at her, but for the life of her, Weiss couldn’t figure out what. “Thank you for telling me.” She says finally, nodding her head a little.
Pyrrha’s smile softens, and Weiss realizes that this one is far more genuine than the one she had on before. “Of course.”
Weiss returns the look with the small quirk of her lips, before she finds that looking her in the eyes any longer may lead to nothing short of a panic attack.
4.
When she finally returns to her dorm room, she is thoroughly unsurprised to find her team positioned around the area with a clear goal in mind. Christ. She thinks, It’s an intervention.
Blake was laid with her back to the wall on top of her bunk, a book propped in her hands that was clearly meant for show. (The cover was upside down, and she was drumming her fingers idly against the pages.) Her striking eyes watched Weiss walk into the room closely, gaze scrutinizing and suspicious.
Yang was leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed as she looked right at Weiss, not bothering to hide the fact that she was staring. There was a hard set in her jaw, making her mouth a thin line instead of the usual smile or jubilant expression.
Ruby, contrasting her other teammates, was pacing the length of the room, stopping right in front of Weiss. Ruby must have just been about to turn and pace again when she opened the door. Her eyes were scrunched up, worry and anxiety clear as day on her face—and Weiss was suddenly overwhelmed by the influx of guilt that washed over her senses.
Sun had been right, she realized, she’d have to open up to her team about something if she wanted to maintain the status quo. She chewed her lip, dodging Ruby and beginning to unpack her bag. Weiss pursed her lips when she pulled out her essay and noticed the wrinkles—and a bit of yellow marker.
Good luck, Snow Empress!!! Don’t forget what we talked about, kay? — ur bff, Sun
She snorted, eyeing the plethora of smiley faces and hearts he’d doodled in the margins, and smoothed out the creases before placing the essay in one of her folders.
(She missed her teammates exchange wide-eyed looks.)
“Weiss?” Ruby began, leading—like always. “I think we need to talk to you about something.”
Her eyes remained one her bag, and she forced herself not to outwardly show any of her anxiety. “Of course.” She agreed, turning and sitting on her bunk. She waited patiently for them to continue, all the while thinking hard about what she was going to say.
Yang shifted uncomfortably. She looked thrown, like she hadn’t expected Weiss to be so easy to talk to. “You’ve been… distant, for about a month now.” Her voice was hesitant, and she cringed with every word she spoke. “Something happened.” It wasn’t a question.
Weiss remembered her dream, the first of many. (Flowy red hair and silvery eyes.) “Yes.” She agreed. “I’m dealing with it.”
“You can’t bear all your burdens alone.” Blake warns her.
“I’m not.” It slips from her mouth accidentally, a protest—and Weiss curses herself for being so hasty. She had been relying on Sun, now, and if someone had seen her they could easily mistake—
“You haven’t been sharing anything with us.” Yang frowned. “So, assuming you aren’t just objecting to everything we say, who?”
Weiss could barely control the urge to get up and run away. “I don’t see how that’s important.” She says slowly, her thoughts rapid and short—like a raging river bounding around in her skull. “But…” She bites her lip, “I do want to tell you about…” Come on! Come on, choose one— “Something.” Fuck!
She couldn’t decide what to open up about, it was too hard. It had been easy with Sun, it had come pouring out—her grasp on control slipping in the face of the harsh winds and stinging waves of an ocean of emotion she had no hold on. She could do it—but certainly not right now, she had just opened up to someone. Doing it again would be exhausting, she’d probably just work herself up.
“Hey.” It’s Ruby, because of course it is, moving to sit next to her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to tell us right this second.” She smiles, kind and understanding, and Weiss discovers that she might have a type. “We just want you to know that we’re here for you, and that whenever you want to open up to us, we’ll listen.”
“Thank you.” Weiss says softly. “That means… so much.” But it wasn’t necessary—so why…? She couldn’t bring herself to look at Ruby a moment longer, and allowed her eyes to flicker to the folder she was still holding in her hands. An urge to open it up and read Sun’s message expanded like a balloon in her chest.
“Now.” Blake interrupts her inner turmoil. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” Weiss looks up to meet her startling intense gaze—it’s, knowing… understanding. Her amber eyes send a shock of fear down Weiss’ spine. “Anything at all?”
“I—”
“Blake.” Yang chastises, “She’s been by herself for the month, she can’t have much she wants to spill—”
“She hasn’t.” Blake says.
“What?” Ruby frowned.
“She hasn’t been alone.” She explained. “Pyrrha sent me a message when she found you.” Blake explains. “He’s a good person, so I get why you’ve become… involved with him, but we’re your team—”
“Pardon?” Weiss asked, voice chilly. She crosses her arms against her chest, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Blake falters, eyes widening in realization. “That’s not how I—”
“I’m sure.” Weiss continued, standing and stuffing her folder back in her bag.
Blake winced, movements rapid and panicked. “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
Weiss paused. “Of course.” She gripped her school bag tightly in one hand. She sat back down next to Ruby, but her limbs were stiff and her shoulders were tensed. “For your information, we’re just friends.” She spat the words out like venom. “Last I checked, I was allowed to have those.” (There's a loaded meaning to her words that she can't quite peace together herself.)
Blake looked a tad disbelieving, but nodded, doing her best to placate her. “Right.”
“I don’t like boys.” Weiss clarified slowly, as though the girl in front of her was a small child. It was the first time she’d said it out loud, she was rather proud of herself.
Blake blinked, looking embarrassed. “Right.”
“Whoa!” Yang breathed, grinning. Weiss had pretty much forgotten she was in the room. “You and I have that in common!”
“Obviously.” Weiss said simply, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
“So mean.” Yang squeaked, flushing slightly, though there was still a pleased grin on her face.
“Is that what you were struggling with?” Ruby asked her, there was a look of concern on her face that was absolutely heartwarming. “We’d never judge you, ya know? And we support you, one-hundred percent!”
Weiss paused. That wasn’t it exactly. She’d grudgingly come to terms with her… attraction to the same sex a while ago. But what she had been struggling with was different, the idea that she could care for two people in such a way at the same time was… damning. Not to mention the problems that continued to surface at Winter’s constant busy schedule. (She’d been forced to converse with Whitley and her mother every time she called in hopes of talking to her sister.)
“It wasn’t the problem.” Weiss said, facing away from Ruby. “But thank you for your words anyway.”
Ruby gripped her hand, “Of course.”
Weiss was beginning to find it harder to look away from her.
5.
“This is stupid.” She grouched, crossing her arms stubbornly as Sun and Neptune led her around the carnival grounds. They had taken it upon themselves to celebrate her team’s victory in the Vytal Festival, stealing her away from her from both team JNPR and RWBY. “I don’t understand why the two of you had to be like that, when talking to them.”
“We’re wingman-ing you.” Sun pointed out, grinning widely at her disgruntled look. “C’mon, Snow Empress, you have to admit—it worked pretty well.”
“No. No it did not.” Neptune sighed softly, looking a tad wistful. “Though it was hilarious.”
Sun and Neptune had made a big show of pretending to ‘sweep her off her feet’ in front of both Pyrrha and Ruby. The result of their antics were a couple weird looks and Yang laughing out loud when Sun and Neptune attempted to challenge everyone for her ‘hand.’ Pyrrha had laughed it off, politely declining the fight and slipping away to stand near Jaune. Ruby had been surprisingly enthusiastic, on the other hand, and pretended to karate chop the two dunces all the while giggling at the look on Weiss’ face. It was fun until Sun and Neptune shoved them together, causing them to fall into a sprawl of limbs on the floor, Ruby lading on top of her.
Ruby had squeaked, hastily using her semblance to get away and simultaneously kicking and elbowing Weiss in the solar plexus. It was… a very painful experience.
(Weiss was still coughing up rose petals.)
She sighed. “You’re both barbaric.”
“Thanks!” They shouted in unison, making Weiss cringe.
“C’mon, let’s get on the ferris wheel.” Neptune said, pulling on Weiss and Sun’s arms.
They had a surprisingly fun time.
Weiss would quite normally balk at the idea of spending time with two teenage boys with less sense than her, but despite the (truly alarming) amount of inappropriate humor—she found herself able to get along with them quite well. She was happy to report that confiding with Sun wouldn’t be a one time thing if the friendships between the three of them continued, and jovially spent her time teasing them. They seemed unfazed by the amount of bite in her tongue, either used to it by now or able to see passed the barbs and notice the fond smiles she’d shoot the two of them. (Either way, Weiss was glad to have met them.)
It was after a couple more rides, Neptune throwing up in a trash can after a tree log ride that involved going down a giant water slide, winning herself a large stuffed arctic fox, and eating a truly unhealthy amount of cotton candy, that Weiss saw her.
“Hey,” Sun began, “Isn’t that Pyrrha?”
Weiss looked up from her blue cotton candy. “Hmm?” She asked, eyes flickering from person to person before settling on—there, long red hair and… casual clothing. She doesn’t think she’s seen Pyrrha in anything but three outfits, her uniform, her pajamas, and her combat clothing. “It is.” She said absentmindedly.
“You should go talk to her.” Neptune pushed her forward gently. “She looks kind of sad.”
“Oh honestly.” Weiss rolled her eyes. “I can’t just go talk to her—what if she’s on a date or something?”
“If she is, it doesn’t look like she’s having a good time.” Neptune pointed out.
Sun frowned, “What do you mean, bro?”
Neptune scratched at his chin. “It’s just… hard to explain.”
Weiss looked at Pyrrha closer, and was startled to discover she could see what he was talking about. “I see it too.” She said softly. “Her face is pointed down, and her posture isn’t as tall as it usually is…” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And her arms are all crossed low, around her stomach, and—oh Remnant she’s seen me!”
Pyrrha was looking up at her, eyes flickering between her and the two boys beside her. She’d turned away before Weiss could try and wave.
“Fuck.” She swore, ignoring the startled laughter of her companions. “Wukong, give me my stuffed fox, I’m going in.”
Sun obeyed, saluting her as she walked away. (He stole the cotton candy she was holding when, which she pretended not to notice.)
She took a deep breath, she could do this—she could do this—she could do this—!
(She can’t do this, she can’t do this, she can’t do this—!)
“Hey, Pyrrha.” She greeted, doing her best to not sound too awkward.
Pyrrha’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened with surprise when she realized Weiss was standing in front of her. “Oh! Um, hello again!” She seemed unusually flustered, and greeted Weiss with a tiny wave.
Weiss smiled at her, waving the paw of the stuffed fox in greeting. “What are you doing?” She asked curiously, looking around suddenly. “Is your team here with you?” Is Jaune? A bitter voice in the back of her head commented snidely.
“Ah.” Pyrrha deflated a little bit. “I’m afraid not.”
“Oh.” Weiss said. “Are you… here alone?” She wrapped her arms tighter around her arctic fox.
“I—” She looked pained, and Weiss couldn’t bear to look at her for a moment. “Yes.” Pyrrha murmured softly, voice so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear. “I am.”
Weiss looked up at her hesitantly, peeking into Pyrrha’s eyes through her lashes. “Do you… maybe want to join us?” She asked hesitantly.
“I couldn’t impose.” Pyrrha waved her hands awkwardly, “It’s fine, truly.”
“You could.” Weiss said, then realizing that she’d never join them if she didn’t make it seem like she’d enjoy her company, “I’d really like for you to join me.”
“But.” Pyrrha looked put out. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? You and Sun are on a date, yes? And I don’t think Neptune would enjoy talking much to me.” I have no desire to be a third wheel. Is what she wasn’t saying.
Weiss blinked. “What gave you that idea?”
“Well, Neptune and I haven’t really spoken to each other much—”
“Not that.” Weiss wrinkled her nose. “Why do you think Sun and I were on a date?” The idea didn’t please her.
“You…” Her face reddened. “You were in a very compromising position, the other day.”
Weiss frowned. She supposed they had been, hadn’t they? She didn’t like to think about Sun that way, not only did she have no interest in men, but Sun was much more like a big brother… she wondered if he was actually older than her. She planned to ask for his birthday later.
“I um.” Pyrrha looked strange, shifting on her feet, not much of the easy confidence she had before in play. “Do you… want to date him?”
“The thought repulses me.” Weiss said immediately, her voice flat. “He’s far too much of a ruffian for me to even consider the thought.”
Pyrrha blinked, mouth opening and closing.
“Was that too rude?” Weiss asked. “Neptune said that Sun and I don’t have the best way with people.” She shifted, internally chastising herself. (Neptune had insisted that the two of them sign up for ‘Sensitivity training’ an idea that made Weiss sneer and hiss at him for two hours… probably proving his point.)
“No, no, no!” Pyrrha interjected, taken aback. “It’s actually—” She laughed a little, “—quite charming, sometimes.” (Her smile made tiny crinkles appear around her eyes, and Weiss felt something akin to warmth begin to boom in her cheeks.)
“Charming?” Weiss asked, her voice a little too high. “Do you really think so?”
Pyrrha looked as embarrassed as Weiss felt. “Yes.” She said softly. “Very.”
It was silent between them suddenly, the only sounds the laughter and screams of the people enjoying themselves on the rides. Inexplicably, Weiss found herself unable to concentrate on anything other than the girl in front of her, and the warmth that overwhelmed her senses as Pyrrha continued to stare.
Weiss looked down, flushing hotly. She couldn’t quite continue to look at Pyrrha with her eyes so obviously watching her. She glanced away, back to where she left Sun and Neptune, only to sigh when she found that they were long gone. “It looks like I’m alone now, too.” She gripped the stuffed fox a little tighter and shivered, suddenly aware that she was only wearing a white short-sleeved blouse. “And Sun left with my jacket, wonderful.”
“Oh.” Pyrrha said softly.
“What is it—” Weiss turned to face her, only to be cut off by the other girl taking off her own sweater and draping it over Weiss’ shoulders. She gaped, speechless.
“Better?” Pyrrha asked.
Weiss nodded wordlessly, unable to string together a coherent sentence. (The ends of the sweater reached Weiss’ knees… was Pyrrha really so tall?) Gathering herself, she pushed out her arms, gesturing for Pyrrha to take the stuffed arctic fox.
“You want me to hold it for you?” She asked.
“Um.” Weiss’ face still burned. “A trade.” She mumbled. “For the sweater.”
“Ah!” Pyrrha whispered softly, a small flush beginning to make a home in her cheeks. She had freckles. Weiss wondered if Jaune was the only other person who’d seen them. “Don’t you want to keep it?”
“It’s a trade.” She protested. “You’re letting me borrow this.” She lifted her arms, slipping them into the sleeves, she was quite disgruntled to find it was quite oversized.
Pyrrha giggled at the sight. “I may just have to keep this from you then,” She grinned, “Adorable.”
Weiss couldn’t quite tell if she meant the fox or her. She puffed up in indignation anyway, ignoring the way the other girl continued to laugh because of it. “Well then, maybe I’ll just have to keep this—” She flapped around her sleeves for emphasis. “—hoodie… that is way too big for me… oh my goodness.” She found herself pouting.
“Haha.” Pyrrha grinned. “Seriously though, it’s your fox isn’t it?”
Weiss, in a sudden burst of courage, looked up into Pyrrha’s eyes (greengreengreen) and smiled. “Prizes are meant to be given to those who deserve them.” Her eyes twinkled impishly. “Not to mention that Sun told me that stuffed animals are meant to be won for someone.”
“For me?” Pyrrha asked. She held the stuffed fox closer to her chest. “Thank you.” She whispered genuinely.
They eventually went back to school, and if Weiss forgot to give back Pyrrha’s hoodie, well, nobody mentioned it.