SAPR

by Scipio Smith


Welcome (New)

Welcome

“Does anyone need a ride anywhere?” Weiss asked.
The Rosepetals had returned to the cruiser; they had to take Penny to the lab to begin her repairs immediately, and so Blake and the others might not be seeing them again for a little while. Blake, Applejack, and Fluttershy had gone back to their cabins to get their bags — Blake had been packed and ready before they went up on deck — and were now waiting on the concourse deck for the airship to finish docking and let them out. Weiss and Flash had joined them there, likewise waiting alongside all the other passengers aboard the skyliner. The hubbub of casual conversation rose all around them as men and women waited to depart.
“You mean share a cab or somethin’?” Applejack asked.
“No,” Weiss replied. “I, um…” She paused and, for a moment, looked a little embarrassed to have brought the subject up. “My, um,” she cleared her throat. “My butler will be coming to pick me up in the limo, and it would be no trouble to drop you off wherever you’d like to go.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Fluttershy said, “but we’re meeting my parents at the skydock, so we’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure that it’s okay for me to stay at your house?” Blake asked. Fluttershy had offered her the use of the spare room in her parents’ place for the duration of her stay. “I wouldn’t want to put your family to any trouble.”
Fluttershy smiled. “It will be fine, Blake; my parents are looking forward to having you. We couldn’t just let you stay in some hotel all by yourself after everything you’ve done for us.”
“Ah’d let you stay at mah place,” Applejack said. “Only mah place is on the other side of Solitas.”
“So where are you staying until you go back there?” Blake asked. “Or are you leaving right away?”
“Nah, Ah’m stayin’ with Pinkie for a little bit,” Applejack said. “Just a couple of days, most likely, but still. Most of her family spend their time out on their estate, so the Atlas house always has plenty of room — it’s just Pinkie and Maud right now — but… well, Pinkie can take some gettin’ used to; Ah ain’t sure you’d want to room with her.”
“Hmm,” Blake murmured. “I think I know what you mean.”
“I wouldn’t mind taking you up on that offer, Weiss,” Flash ventured. “I mean, if it’s no trouble; I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through,” Weiss informed him. “Trust me, going out of my way a little before going home will not be putting me out.”
The bulkhead opened. Unlike at Beacon, where the airships that carried them to school had extended a ramp out to meet the docking pads which had been built only for much smaller airships, here, the skyliner had landed bodily upon the much larger docking platform, and at once, the passengers began to pour of the open doors, heading across the dark grey platform to the docking complex on the other side.
Applejack grinned. “Well, y’all have fun, now.”
“Thank you,” Weiss said. “It was lovely to meet you… all of you.” She glanced at Blake before she began to move, dragging her case behind her as she joined the throne headed for the doors.
“Bye, girls,” Flash said, before he fell in behind Weiss.
“Goodbye, Flash,” Fluttershy said.
“Don’t be a stranger, ya hear?” Applejack called to him.
Flash, already halfway to the door, turned and waved back at them before he turned away, presenting his back to them once more. Soon, they had lost him in the crowd.
“We should probably get movin’ ourselves,” Applejack said. Winona, on a leash at Applejack’s side, tugged upon the lead in her eagerness, but Applejack kept a firm grip on it and kept her dog from getting away or causing any trouble as the three of them made their way out.
They were some of the last to leave, joining the tail end of the crowd as they spilled out of the narrow exit and onto the wide expanse of tarmac, and then narrowing again like a river which briefly forms a lake to pile through the doors into the skydock. A blast of cold air hit Blake’s face — and other places besides, biting through clothing that she was beginning to think might not be entirely suitable for the surroundings — as they left, before being replaced by a sudden feeling of warmth as they stepped out of the open and into the skydock lounge.
The access and exit lounge was white as snow, with lights flickering through the colours of the aurora above them so that the white lounge was continuously being cast into different shades — and so was everyone within it. Android attendants, the cool blue lights of their heads reflecting off their pristine white bodies, moved amongst the rows of padded chairs, bearing trays of drinks and snacks. A hologram of a woman in a crisp blue uniform was being projected from a raised circular podium near the door.
“Greetings, visitors, and welcome to Atlas,” the hologram said in a chipper voice. “I’m sure that you’ll enjoy your stay here in the greatest kingdom in Remnant. Unless, of course, you are Atlesian and returning to us, in which case, welcome home! Now that you’ve seen what lies beyond, I’m confident you’ll never want to leave again! Those of you travelling from other kingdoms on a first class ticket may be confused by the absence of a first class lounge. It’s quite simple really: here in Atlas, first class is standard class! So please take a seat, and an attendant will be with you shortly to offer you a full selection of hot, cold, or alcoholic beverages — proof of age may be required — as well as snacks, cakes, sandwiches, and hot meals all included in the price.” The hologram looked directly at Blake. “Blake Belladonna, welcome; it appears that you don’t have any accommodation or transport booked; why not use one of our terminals and rectify your lack of forethought before you leave?”
Blake’s ears pricked. “How… how does it-?”
“It accesses your scroll through the network,” Fluttershy explained.
“It can do that?”
“Uh huh,” Applejack muttered. “Sometimes Ah think we got a little too much fancy technology around here.”
Winona barked.
“Jacqueline Apple,” the hologram said, “all dogs must be kept on a lead at all times.”
“And Ah hate it when it does that, too,” Applejack said. “Come on, let’s go.”
“What is the point of that?” Blake asked as they made their way towards the exit. “Other than making people uncomfortable?”
“It’s a security measure,” Fluttershy explained.
“It’s supposed to detect wrong’uns,” Applejack clarified. “Accessin’ their data, findin’ out who they really are, that kind of thing. Ah guess it’s needful, what with shapeshiftin’ White Fang types trying to impersonate Councillors — no offence.”
“None taken,” Blake said evenly.
“But that don’t mean Ah gotta like it, and Ah’ll wager Ah’m not the only one who feels that way,” Applejack went on.
They left the lounge, emerging onto the concourse, which was every bit as starkly white as the lounge, but without the somewhat distracting lighting that shifted colours nearly constantly; Blake wondered if the absence of it here was because the queues of people lining up to buy or collect their airship tickets needed to be able to see in order to work the machines.
As they walked, Blake could hear the terminals talking to the customers.
“Greetings, customer! If you are collecting a pre-booked ticket, press the green ‘Collect Tickets’ icon; if not, select the red ‘Choose My Destination’ icon to choose your destination.”
“Hooray! You have selected a destination! I’m sure you will enjoy your visit to… Mantle. Now it’s time to pay!”
“You’re all set! Enjoy your destination and have a nice day!”
Blake couldn’t help but think they sounded inordinately cheerful; far more so, in fact, than the people using them appeared to be.
“So,” she said, “where are-?”
“YOU’RE BACK!”
Blake’s eyes widened, and her ears pricked up in astonishment, as a pink blur appeared out of nowhere and collided with Applejack, who did very well to keep her feet — and keep hold of Winona’s lead in one hand — in the face of the flying object which resolved itself into Pinkie Pie, dressed in a puffy blue parka and tight lavender pants, with her arms wrapped around Applejack’s neck.
“You’re back,” Pinkie repeated, slightly more quietly this time, before she reached out with one hand to grab Fluttershy, pulling her in so that she had one arm around each of them. “Both of you. You’re back and you’re okay and you’re right here.”
Applejack smiled fondly as she wrapped her free arm around Pinkie. “It’s good to see you too, Pinkie Pie.”
“We missed you as well,” Fluttershy added.
“'Missed you'? It’s not just about missing you!” Pinkie cried. “I mean, I did miss you, of course I missed you, I missed you every single day, but that’s not what this is about! This is about the fact that… that we almost lost you.”
“But we didn’t, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity declared as she strode towards them, wearing a sparkling overcoat of royal blue with buttons fashioned to resemble gemstones and a light grey fur — or faux fur — trim around the hem. “So let’s leave the past behind us and not dwell on old unpleasantness. Our friends are safe; that’s all that matters now.” She turned to Blake. “And I believe that we have you to thank for that, Blake.”
Blake looked away. “I… I didn’t do anything; I was just… there.”
“Oh, you were just there when a rescue mission happened to be going on,” Rarity said dryly. “Well, if you put it like that… I mean, haven’t we all found ourselves in that situation at one time or another, just passing through when people are being rescued in the vicinity?”
Blake looked at her.
“I may not have taken my combat training as far as some,” Rarity added, “but I do know that not everyone can be the one who kicks down the door and cuts the bonds. In the circumstances, I think that simply being there is quite enough, and quite worthy of praise.” She held out one pale, slender hand; the golden band around her wrist glimmered under the lights. “Thank you,” she said. “I only wish I could conceive of a circumstance in which I could repay you.”
Blake took her hand, and was a little surprised by the firmness of Rarity’s grip. “You say that,” she replied. “But I have been wondering about whether I’m really dressed for this kingdom-”
“Well, I wasn’t going to bring it up — it would have been rather rude to have done so unprompted — but yes, darling, your attire is somewhat unsuitable. It won’t repay our debt, but what do you say tomorrow we go shopping for something a little more appropriate?”
Blake smiled, even as she let go of Rarity’s hand. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll look forward to it.”
“Marvellous!” Rarity declared. “I’d offer to make you something, but I’m afraid you need it rather sooner than that. Although I shall probably make you something anyway, because one can never have too many outfits, can one? Anyway, I’ll pick you up at Fluttershy’s, we can go shopping, and maybe see some of the sights of our fair city afterwards.”
Blake nodded. “I… yes, that would be great, I’m sure.”
“Maybe if Rainbow and Twilight are done with their work, we can all meet up,” Pinkie suggested, releasing Applejack and Fluttershy.
“That would be nice,” Applejack said. “But Ah don’t know if it’ll be possible; they said they’re gonna be pretty busy.”
“But you’re going to stick around until they’re not so busy so we can all hang out, right?” Pinkie asked. “You have to! We have to all go to Sugarcube Corner together like we promised! Our first trip as the Spectacular Seven!”
“Um, 'the Spectacular Seven'?” Fluttershy murmured.
“Uh huh,” Pinkie said, nodding eagerly. “There were six of us, but now we have Blake; that makes seven.”
“Pinkie,” Fluttershy said softly. “I’m not sure that Blake-”
“I’m honoured,” Blake said, “to be a part of your group, provided that none of you object.”
Applejack chuckled. “It ain’t our objections we were worried about,” she said. “And yeah, I’ll stick around. We do deserve some kind of reunion.”
Pinkie gasped. “A reunion party, that’s perfect! Applejack, you’re a genius!”
“That wasn’t quite what I-” Applejack began.
“The cab is waiting outside,” said a girl who sauntered up to them. She was tall, taller than Blake, about of a height with Rainbow Dash, with stern grey-violet hair with bangs, cut straight across her forehead, descending to about the level of her eyebrows, with the rest of her hair straight down around her head to just below her shoulders. She was dressed in grey, with only a black belt to add a little variety. Her voice was soft, and rather even, without much in the way of inflections. “Hey, Applejack. Good to see you.”
“Nice to see you too, Maud,” Applejack said, taking a step towards her and holding out one hand. “How’ve you been?”
Maud slowly took Applejack’s hand. “I’m good,” she said in that same even tone.
“This here is Blake Belladonna; she’s been workin’ with Rainbow Dash these past few months,” Applejack said. “Helped get me out of a tricky spot too. Blake, this is Maud Pie, used to be mine and Dash’s teammate.”
“I’m also Pinkie’s sister,” Maud said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Blake murmured. “You have the same… eyes.”
“So I’ve been told,” Maud said. “Pinkie, we should go. The meter’s running.”
“Okay, looks like this is goodbye for now,” Applejack said. “See you soon Fluttershy, Blake.”
“See you both tomorrow, darlings!” Rarity trilled.
“It’s nice to see you, by the way, Rarity.”
“Oh, Applejack, you know I’m always delighted to see you!” Rarity said, and as the four of them walked away, she put one hand on Applejack’s back. “But there, I’ve said it, do you feel better now?”
Fluttershy smiled. “I suppose we have tomorrow planned out already.”
“Yes,” Blake said. “Unless… sorry, I didn’t think, did you-?”
“No, it’s fine,” Fluttershy said. “What better way to start than by showing you around Atlas? Anyway, we should probably get going; I’m sure my parents will be waiting around here somewhere.”


“Welcome home, Miss Schnee,” Klein declared jovially as he waited by the side of the waiting car.
Weiss smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Klein,” she said, carefully not saying that it was good to be home. “I’d like you to meet my teammate, Flash Sentry; Flash, this is my family butler, Klein Sieben.”
Klein was a short, slightly portly man with a round face and a slightly large nose; his eyes, at the moment, were a shade of light brown, the same shade of remaining hair that circled the back of his head and, indeed, the moustache that covered his upper lip. The bald crown that was normally visible was presently concealed beneath a hat, just as whatever else he might be wearing was hidden beneath his dark double-breasted overcoat.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Flash said affably.
“Hmm,” Klein murmured as he took a step towards Flash. His eyes turned to a smouldering red as he suddenly thrust his face forward into Flash’s space. His voice hardened and became a harsh croak as he said, “Now listen, sonny, I don’t know what your little game is, but any funny business, and you’ll answer to me, understand?”
“Klein!” Weiss gasped.
Klein’s eyes changed colour again, turning to a bright blue as he laughed a childish giggling laugh. “Sorry, madam, just having a little joke.”
Flash laughed nervously, casting a sidelong glance at Weiss.
“Flash isn’t used to you, Klein,” Weiss pointed out. “Try and bear that in mind.”
Klein’s eyes returned to their usual brown colour. “Of course, Miss Schnee. Forgive me, sir.”
“That’s uh, fine,” Flash said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I told Flash that we’d give him a ride home,” Weiss explained.
“Ah, then allow me to take your luggage, sir,” Klein said, and he seized Flash’s case without waiting to be invited. “Miss Schnee.”
“Thank you, Klein,” Weiss said as she handed over her own case in turn.
As Klein put the luggage in the boot, Flash stepped closer to Weiss and whispered to her, “What’s with the eye colour?”
“It’s… I suppose you could call it his party piece,” Weiss explained. “He can change his voice, his mannerisms-”
“How is he changing his eye colour?” Flash asked.
“I don’t know,” Weiss admitted. “But ever since I was a little girl, he’s always been able to cheer me up by ‘becoming a different person,’ as it were. It’s just something he does and something I appreciate.”
“I… well, I won’t say that I understand, but that’s fine,” Flash replied. “Just so long as he doesn’t actually hate me just for standing near you.”
Weiss chuckled as the two of them made their way into the car. It was her father’s car, which meant that it was spacious and comfortable, without chairs at the back, but rather, a sofa which wound from the door to the back, then around in a blocky U-shape before stopping at the other door. The seats were crushed leather and soft beneath them.
There was a mini-bar propped up against the partition separating the passenger section from the driver, although it was currently empty; however, the glasses marked with the Schnee snowflake were still there, even if there was nothing to put in them.
“Nice,” Flash observed. “Very nice.”
“Mmm,” Weiss murmured noncommittally.
“Is something wrong?” Flash asked.
“No, nothing,” Weiss replied. “I just… it’s nothing.”
Klein, having stowed their luggage, returned to the driver’s seat in the front. “Where to, young man?”
“Number Nine, Frederick Street, please,” Flash replied.
“Of course, sir,” Klein replied, and the car sprung to life, elevating just off the road and beginning to glide above it, guided by Klein’s deft hand on the wheel as he drove them out of the skydock car park and onto the roads. Atlas was not completely friendly to cars — there were quite a few narrow pedestrianised districts where people could move on foot without fear — but there were also roads enough for them to get around unimpeded.
“So,” Weiss said, leaning back on the leather sofa, “do you have any plans?”
Flash hesitated. “Not really,” he admitted. “I guess I’ll just see what happens. You?”
“No,” Weiss replied. “No, I don’t have anything planned. I’m not even sure that I’ll be able to keep in practice.”
“Maybe we could… practice together, sometime?” Flash suggested.
The corners of Weiss’ lips turned upwards slightly. “I’d like that,” she said. “Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee it. I think that I shall have to remain at home for most of this vacation.”
“It’s not enough that you’re here in Atlas?” Flash asked.
“I…” Weiss sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It ought to be, but… I don’t know. I’m not sure what my father… I’m not sure why he’s so anxious to have me back. It may involve a blizzard of tedious social functions, for all I know. He might even want me to sing.”
Flash shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, if you can get away, give me a call. I’d… I’d like to see you.”
“I will,” Weiss promised. “If I can get away.”
The rest of the journey to Flash’s home passed in silence, a silence made awkward not by the company but by the situation — or perhaps better to say, the uncertainty of Weiss’ situation, the questions to which there were no answers, the things that they could not speak of regarding her father and his intent in dragging Weiss back here from Beacon. It would have been difficult to speak freely at the best of times, but judging by the way in which Flash kept glancing at Klein up in the front, Weiss thought that he might also be put off by the butler’s presence. Technically, he did work for her father, after all, and while Weiss knew that Klein would never betray her confidence, she also didn’t want to put him in the position where he would have to lie to her father. For all his faults, or perhaps because of them, Jacques Schnee was not a man to be trifled with, and it was hardly Weiss’ desire to see faithful old Klein thrown out on the street like Laberna had been before him. Once had been quite bad enough; to have it happen again and because of her, because of a position she had put him in… no, she could not bear that. She wouldn’t treat Klein that way; she would not discomfort him that way.
And so she allowed Flash his misapprehension and kept her own counsel until the car pulled up outside of an elegant townhouse in one of the more elegant streets in Atlas.
“This is me,” Flash said as the car came to a stop. “Thanks for the lift.”
“It was no trouble,” Weiss said as Klein got out and began to walk around the car to get Flash’s luggage out of the trunk. “I hope to see you, but if I don’t, have a good break.”
“Thanks,” Flash said. “I… I’d wish you the same, but I’m worried it would come off as clueless or fake.”
“I’ll take it in the spirit that it was intended,” Weiss assured him.
Flash nodded. He opened the door and started to climb out. “Call me, if you can,” he said. “Or even if you can’t,” he added. “I mean, even if you can’t leave the house, we can still talk, right? I’d like… I’d like to know you’re okay.”
And what would you do if I wasn’t? Weiss thought, but did not say. It might have sounded like a discouraging question, and she didn’t want to discourage Flash any more than she wanted to compromise Klein. And besides, it was a good point about their scrolls; just because they couldn’t meet didn’t mean that they needed to have nothing to do with one another.
“I’ll call you when I get home,” she promised.
“Great,” Flash said. “I want to know that… if you need… let me know if… tell me if there’s anything wrong.”
“I will,” Weiss said. It was not a lie, but at the same time… it would depend on what exactly was wrong. It was very gallant of him to clumsily offer his aid like that, but her father was not a monster to be defeated by a gallant knight in shining armour. An eager young man with a good heart could not rescue her from his castle. If it was that easy, she would have rescued herself some time ago.
Nevertheless, her lie — or half-truth — seemed to reassure Flash; he looked a lot better, even smiling as he shut the door, accepted his luggage from Klein, and made his way up the steps towards his own door.
As Klein returned to the driver’s seat, Weiss slipped out and into the front, sitting down on the less comfortable seat beside him.
“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.
“Not at all, Miss Weiss,” Klein said as he started the car again. “He seems a nice enough young man,” he added as the car began to move at his instruction.
“Yes,” Weiss said, a slight smile playing across her face. “He is a nice young man.”
“Is he-?”
“No,” Weiss said quickly. “He’s my teammate, and I think it’s rather foolish to mix relations that way.”
“I wasn’t aware there were any rules against that at Beacon,” Klein observed. “Although I know that there are in Atlas.”
“No, Beacon doesn’t have rules against… fraternising within the team,” Weiss agreed. “But perhaps it should. It seems… a little unwise to take the risk, when you still have to work together, put your lives in one another’s hands, even after things haven’t worked out.”
“Assuming that things don’t work out, Miss Schnee.”
“Yes, but one has to account for the possibility,” Weiss said. “I think, to try it, you would have to be either unaware of the risks or else very, very certain that it was going to last, at least until graduation.”
“No doubt you’re right, ma’am,” Klein said in a voice that made it unclear if he really did think that Weiss was right or not. “If I may, I’m glad to see that you have at least one friendly face at school.”
“I’m closer to Flash than to my other teammates,” Weiss admitted, “but I think we’ve reached an understanding. By the end of the semestern we were working quite well together.”
“Really, Miss Schnee?”
“Yes,” Weiss declared proudly. “We were seconded to the Flying Squad of the Valish Police Department and assisted in the capture of a dangerous White Fang terrorist and his associates.”
“That does sound terribly impressive, Miss Schnee,” Klein said. “And I understand that you were involved in that dreadful business with the grimm recently.”
“Yes,” Weiss murmured. “As you say, it was… not good.”
“Although it could have been much worse, so they say,” Klein added.
“Well, the city didn’t fall to the grimm, which it could have done,” Weiss replied. “So, yes, I suppose you could say that it could have been worse. Although, I think that a horde of grimm emerging out of the ground into Vale itself is probably bad enough.”
“It does make me glad to live in Atlas, Miss Schnee.”
“Because we don’t have an underground for the grimm to come up from?”
“I suppose so,” Klein acknowledged. “But also because it isn’t the sort of thing that one can ever imagine happening here. It just doesn’t happen in Atlas.”
“It didn’t happen in Vale either, until it did,” Weiss pointed out.
“No, but that’s Vale,” Klein said. “Atlas is, well, Atlas, and it always will be.” He paused for a moment. “But in spite of that, are you enjoying Beacon, Miss Schnee? I must confess, there was a time when I was worried about you there. Not because of the physical danger — I know that you’re extraordinarily capable — but because things… didn’t seem to be going so well.”
“You mean when I had to ask my father for help in getting the press off my back?” Weiss asked.
“Not to put too fine a point on it, ma’am, yes.”
“That was… a low point,” Weiss admitted. “But, as I say, I’ve come to an understanding with my teammates, and our performance has improved accordingly. And, although it came at a price, it’s one that I’m prepared to pay.”
“But are you happy there?” Klein pressed.
“Not all the time, no,” Weiss conceded. “But the path to success cannot always be easy; indeed, one might almost say that it should not always be easy. I may not always enjoy it, but I am more convinced than ever that this is the road I want to walk.”
“I see,” Klein said. “And how is Miss Winter, if I may ask?”
“Well, I think,” Weiss replied. “Although her duties mean I don’t see much of her.”
“She, too, has found the road she wishes to walk.”
“Yes, and she’s doing quite well,” Weiss said. “She’s a brevet major now, and on General Ironwood’s staff.”
“I had no idea, ma’am,” Klein said. “Your father doesn’t much mention Miss Winter these days.”
I’ll bet he doesn’t. “How is my father?”
“As successful as ever, Miss Weiss.”
“And my mother?”
Klein hesitated for a moment. “I’m afraid she’s suffering the old trouble again.”
You mean she’s drinking. Weiss sighed. “I see. And Whitley?”
“Oh, Master Whitley is in very high spirits, ma’am.”
“Really?”
“Yes, indeed, Miss Weiss,” Klein assured her. Once more, he paused for a moment. “I know that you’re not overjoyed to be here, but I hope you understand what I mean when I say that I’m glad to see you back. I’ve missed you, Miss Weiss.”
Weiss smiled. “I understand perfectly. Thank you, Klein.”
Shortly after, having passed out of Atlas and up onto the Spur where the self-proclaimed elite of Atlas made their homes, Klein pulled up the car in front of the palatial Schnee Manor. The house that Weiss’ grandfather had built was large enough to swallow entire city districts, a grand expanse built in the Art Deco style, with two wings five storeys high and a centre flanked by four high towers — two at the front and two at the back, just visible from the front — which were too narrow to have anything but decorative value. The driveway itself was interrupted by a raised section, upon which were mounted three pillars, one — in the middle — much taller than the others, and all topped with the Schnee snowflake; they glowed only faintly in the daylight, but come nightfall, they would shine as bright as the stars themselves.
It was a beautiful house. Weiss only wished that that which lay within could be so fair.
“Chin up, Miss Schnee,” Klein urged as he lifted her luggage out of the boot. “I’ll take these to your room, shall I?”
“Yes, Klein, thank you,” Weiss said, and as Klein carried the bags inside, Weiss remained outside for a moment longer, looking up at this immense house.
Immense, beautiful, and yet, like the company whose wealth had financed the house, it had become corrupted. Something wicked had crept in and taken root here.
She did not want to go in. She did not want to enter here. She did not want to come back, she didn’t want to stay, she didn’t want to subject herself to what it meant to live in this house and be a part of this family. But she was a part of this family; she availed herself of the luxuries of being part of this family. And there was a price she had to pay for that. This price.
Weiss took a brief breath and attempted to steel herself as she walked in through the door which Klein had left open for her.
She closed it behind her. It shut heavily, with a solid thump that seemed to seal not only itself but also her fate.
Oh, don’t be melodramatic; it’s only for a little while.
That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.
“Ah, home the hero comes,” Whitley said. Her younger brother was small and slight, with a fragile build that was accentuated — in Weiss’ eyes, at least — by his utter lack of martial training. But while he showed no sign of inheriting any of the warlike talent or semblance of the Schnee family, he did possess their white hair, blue eyes, and remarkably pale complexion. He was dressed like their father in miniature, with a blue-grey waistcoat over a white shirt, dark trousers, and polished shoes.
“Hello, Whitley,” Weiss said dryly.
Whitley approached across the large but largely empty hall, crossing the giant snowflake emblazoned on the floor. “I’d ask if you missed us, but I know that you’re only here because you ran into some trouble at school.”
“So,” Weiss murmured, “you know about that?”
“Yes,” Whitley said. “I was sorry to hear about it, although I don’t see why it bothered you. Accusations of that nature never seem to bother Father.”
“I’m not our father,” Weiss said.
“No,” Whitley agreed. “You’ve got a thinner skin. I also heard that you were in some sort of battle. Was it dangerous?”
“Battles usually are,” Weiss replied.
“Well, thank you for trying to get yourself killed so that I can inherit the company,” Whitley drawled, “but it all seems so very… unnecessary. Why do you need to risk your life in these barbarous brawls when there are so many other people who can do that for you? People… with less to lose.”
“I doubt you’d understand it even if I tried to explain it to you,” Weiss said.
She didn’t even get the chance to explain it to him, because at that moment, their father appeared, descending the stairs towards them. Jacques Schnee, although not a Schnee by birth, nevertheless appeared to possess the features common to the name: the white hair, the blue eyes, although the painting of him as a younger man showed his moustache as black. But then, he had been younger then, and the moustache which had been pencil thin was now rather thicker, so perhaps he had simply gotten older. He was dressed in a white suit with a blue shirt and just a hint of a blue waistcoat visible beneath, with a white tie and a red handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket.
His hands were clasped behind his back, and his smile did not reach all the way to his eyes.
“Weiss, sweetheart,” he said, “how wonderful to see you again.” He crossed the hall to her and planted a kiss upon her cheek. “Welcome home. It’s so good to have you back where you belong.”
Weiss fought the urge to wipe her face. “Hello, Father. It’s good to see you again.”
“Of course,” Jacques said. “Now, you must be tired after your trip, so why don’t you go to your room and rest up for a little while?”
Weiss bowed her head. “Of course, Father.”
“But I’m having a little dinner party at eight, just a few business associates,” Jacques went on. “So make sure that you’re both presentable by then. Sadly, your mother will be too ill to attend, but I’m sure that you’ll both make a good impression. Especially you, Weiss; everyone would be delighted if you would sing for us.”
Weiss sighed. “Of course, Father, I’d be delighted to.”
Welcome home, Weiss.