SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Farewell and Adieu (New)

Farewell and Adieu

“You know, it’s kind of funny,” Flash said as they sat in the lounge waiting for their airship to start boarding. “I expected that, when I told you I was going home for a visit, that I’d have a fight on my hands.”

Weiss raised one arched eyebrow as she looked at him. “Really? And why might that be?”

The two of them were sat in the departure lounge of the Vale Heatherfield Skydock. The chairs on which they sat were royal blue, well padded but not particularly comfortable for all of that, while the carpet beneath their feet was a paler shade and quite well-worn. The lounge was just under half full, with many empty seats including, fortunately, around Weiss and Flash. One wall was made up entirely of windows, showing the gigantic skyliners as they waited for takeoff on the concrete outside, while the others were painted in a plain, slightly off-white. A stall selling coffee, cakes, and sandwiches stood before the east wall, while a couple of vending machines, one selling drinks and one selling sweets, sat against the north.

Flash raised one hand preemptively. “I’m not saying that you’re a tyrant or anything-”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Weiss said. “I don’t think I’ve exhibited any tyrannical tendencies in my entire time as team leader.”

“You haven’t,” Flash assured. “You’ve been a great team leader.”

“Let’s not overcompensate for one falsehood with another, shall we?” Weiss asked. “The fact is that, if I had been a little more tyrannical at times, I might have been a better team leader.”

“You think?”

“I allowed Cardin a lot of leeway, and look what he did with it,” Weiss pointed out.

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m the team leader,” Weiss said. “Everything is my fault. But you were expecting me to row with you for some reason?”

“Well, it’s just that the Vytal Festival is almost here,” Flash reminded her. “Actually almost here, not ‘almost here’ the way the professors have been telling us that it’s 'almost here' practically since we arrived. It’s almost here, and this is probably our last chance to get in some training to make sure that we get selected to compete… only, thanks to me, we’re going to miss that chance.”

A chance we need more than some other teams, you mean, Weiss thought. “Because of us,” she corrected him.

“Yeah,” Flash murmured. “That’s what surprised me. I thought you’d want to stay here and get ready for the tournament.”

Weiss hesitated, because of course, the truth was that was exactly what she’d rather be doing. Flash was right about that, and about the fact that this was their last chance to get in any practice as a team before the tournament selections were made, and that Team WWSR needed the practice more than some other teams. Team SAPR were a man down at the moment, with Ruby in hospital, but even if she didn’t wake up until right before the Last Shot, Weiss had little doubt that, between the semblances of Sunset and Jaune, and Pyrrha’s all round skill, they would still impress Professor Ozpin enough to get selected for the tournament. It was Pyrrha Nikos, for crying out loud; if she weren’t selected, then Mistral would probably declare war on Vale or something.

Team WWSR had no such assurance. They had not impressed particularly during the year – well, not at first; Weiss had some hope that their good service with the police and their glowing reports from Lieutenant Martinez might have clawed them back some of the respect of the faculty – and so, for them, the Last Shot might really be their last chance at impressing Professor Ozpin.

Unless Professor Ozpin was so moved by the name of Schnee and the fear of offending her father that he always meant to put her through to the tournament regardless.

But he had never given her that impression in any of her meetings with him. And besides, she wasn’t sure if she’d really want that.

No. No, she was sure. She was sure that she did not want that. She was the heiress to the Schnee name and company, but she was not her father. She didn’t intend to have everything in her life handed to her. She would take it for herself, just like her grandfather had.

Or she would try, which would be much harder in the case of Vytal Festival glory if they were not selected because they had no time to practice as a team.

She could say that she wasn’t that interested in the Vytal Festival, but while she certainly didn’t consider it to be the be-all and end-all – she had come to Beacon to learn how to be a huntress, not a Mistralian tournament fighter – the fact remained that she did want to represent herself in the Amity Colosseum, if only to set herself apart from her father on the world stage and show Remnant that she was a different kind of Schnee.

And besides, she had made no secret of the fact that she had Vytal ambitions in front of Flash, Cardin, and Russel when they had collectively resolved to get their acts together. She could hardly pretend that she had been lying.

Nor did she feel that she had to. Flash was her teammate, her friend, someone who, if he were not her teammate – and were she not the leader of Team WWSR – she might have considered as something more than a friend. She could tell him the truth; she could trust him with the truth. It wasn’t as though he would use it against her.

“I’m not… I’m not going home because I want to,” she admitted. “I’m going home because…” She hesitated. Saying that she had no choice in the matter sounded rather melodramatic, even in her head. “I’m going home because I promised that I would.”

“'Promised'?” Flash asked, his eyes narrowing a little. “Promised who?”

“My father,” Weiss replied. “Do you remember that spot of trouble that Cardin got himself into earlier this semester?”

Flash managed to grin in spite of the circumstances. “How can I forget?” he asked. “For a moment there, I thought we were all going to be tarred as racists for the rest of our lives. Never allowed to live it down.”

“You’re taking that prospect rather well,” Weiss observed.

“It wasn’t really Cardin’s fault,” Flash said. “I mean, he was an idiot, and I wasn’t happy with him at the time, but the fact that the rest of us got pulled in… just because of what happened to my father doesn’t mean that I have to hate all faunus, and just because the SDC enjoys a certain… reputation doesn’t mean that you have to hate them either. If people assume our thoughts and feelings because of stuff like that, then that’s on them. It’s not Cardin’s fault; he’s only to blame for the things he did.” Flash paused. “And besides, while I was a little worried for a minute, it all seemed to blow over pretty quick, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Weiss said softly. “There’s a reason for that. I asked my father if he would have his PR people take care of it.”

Flash’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

“As you might imagine, a not inconsiderable amount of their time is spent countering the accusations of racism and impropriety levelled against the SDC,” Weiss said, diplomatically leaving out whether the accusations were justified or not. “They’re very good at what they do. I don’t know how they do it, exactly, but they manage to sweep these things under the rug very expertly, making sure that stories like ours are quickly forgotten.”

“And they-”

“Got to work, yes,” Weiss said. “And I, for one, was quite relieved when they did.”

Flash’s mouth hung open for a moment. “You didn’t mention that at the time,” he said quietly.

Weiss shrugged. “What would have been the point?”

“Our gratitude?”

Weiss snorted. “I will take gratitude for things that I’ve actually accomplished, not for calling my father and asking him to make my problems go away.”

"All the same," Flash said, "I am grateful. I can smile about it now, but… at the time, it was kind of nerve-wracking, thinking that that might follow me for the rest of my life."

"I don't think it would have followed us for the rest of our lives," Weiss replied, "but the rest of our time at Beacon would have been bad enough. In any case, your gratitude… your gratitude belongs to my father." That was a bitter thing to say, and it had to be dragged out of Weiss throat by such effort of will that she might as well have cast glyphs in her windpipe to drive it out. "He was the one who made all of that go away and made it possible for us to go on with that… unpleasantness forgotten."

"Is that why you're going home?" Flash asked. "Gratitude to your father?"

"I'm going home because that was my father's price," Weiss muttered, a scowl settling upon her features. "He wants me back for a little while. My mother has missed me terribly, it seems."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Flash said.

"I'm not sure that it's true," Weiss said. "My mother… wasn't around enough when I was growing up to miss me when I'm gone."

Her mother didn't really miss anyone, so long as she had a well-stocked drinks cabinet, but Weiss was not cruel enough nor indiscrete enough to say so in front of Flash. He was her friend, but… there were some things, you just didn't say in front of outsiders. Some things were best kept within the family, as it were.

Flash's face fell. "You really don't want to go back, do you?"

Weiss was silent for a moment. "Why did you come to Beacon?"

Flash blinked. "You… are you asking me why I want to be a huntsman?"

"No," Weiss said. "No, I know why you're training; what I mean is… why not Atlas? Everyone else from your combat school seems to have gone there except for Sunset, and I can understand why a faunus might want to get away. I can see why Pyrrha chose Beacon – Haven's reputation is absolute garbage – but you… why did you choose Beacon over Atlas?"

"Because I want to be a huntsman," Flash said simply.

"Not a soldier?" Weiss asked.

"I'm not going to say anything against the Specialists, not even where Rainbow can't hear me," Flash said at once, a smile briefly appearing upon his face, illuminating for a moment his deep blue eyes, "but if I had gone to and graduated from Atlas, if I'd gone into the Corps of Specialists, I wouldn't have been a huntsman or soldier, not really. My mom… she's the Council's lawyer; she's the one who tells them if the new laws are going to clash with any old laws, whether she thinks a proposed decree is constitutional, what the likely challenges are. She's not famous, almost nobody outside of political insiders knows who she is, but she knows how the deals are done and where the bodies are buried, and she's got influence. She didn't want me to go to any academy, but she couldn't stop me… but, I knew that if I went to Atlas, joined the military like most do, she'd use her pull to get me assigned to some safe position counting ration packs or something, nothing that would put me in danger. Nothing that would help people."

"She doesn't want to lose you," Weiss murmured.

"That's my choice," Flash replied. "It's not hers to make. So what about you? Why did you choose Beacon over Atlas? After all, your sister went to Atlas, and she seems to have turned out okay."

"Winter," Weiss declared, "has turned out a lot more than 'okay.' She'll be commanding general when General Ironwood retires, maybe even headmaster too."

Flash grinned. "Did she tell you that?"

"No," Weiss said primly. "Everyone else did."

"You must be proud."

"Winter doesn't need my pride," Weiss said. "But she is… an example to me. She's made her own way in the world, carved out a place for herself, and she did it purely on her own merits."

"Are you sure about that?" Flash asked.

Weiss gave him an old-fashioned look.

Flash held up his hands. "I'm just saying… this is Atlas we're talking about, and she's a Schnee; you both are. Do you really think that that doesn't matter, that it didn't matter to anyone who helped your sister get where she is today?"

"My father didn't want Winter to go to Atlas Academy," Weiss said. "He certainly didn't want her joining the military, and he wouldn't help her to advance once she got there."

"But the name still carries weight, especially to people who don't know what you just told me," Flash reminded her. He paused. "Was he worried about her?"

Weiss snorted. "Hardly. He had me, and my brother Whitley, and he'd always had us in case anything happened to Winter. I think… honestly, Father finds all of this beneath him. Fighting, swords, aura, semblances… that's all something for other people to do. Poorer people. Lesser people. People who can't afford to have other people do it for them. People whose power doesn't rest on more lien than many could possibly imagine. Father saw Winter lowering herself, and in a way that would compel her to take orders from someone else, someone inferior, and he didn't like it." She sighed as the memory of those arguments rose to the forefront of her mind. "He didn't like it one bit, and he liked it even less when he made clear his displeasure, and yet, she did it anyway."

Flash looked away. His expression was strained, awkward, like someone who has found themselves eavesdropping on an uncomfortably personal conversation. "You… your father…" he said quietly, his voice a little choked. "He sounds like… he sounds like-"

"I know," Weiss murmured, not forcing him to say anything that went against the image that every Atlesian possessed of Jacques Schnee: the titan of industry, the captain of innovation, the guarantor of Atlas' financial and technological supremacy. Perhaps it had been wrong of her to tell him all this, to intimate what he really was, but if she could let anyone see the truth, it was Flash.

Nevertheless, he looked rather uncomfortable, and for that, she felt sorry. "Well… if you need any help," he said, "just give me a call, okay?"

Weiss smiled. "You'll ride in on a white horse to rescue me?"

Flash let out a self-deprecating chuckle as a blush rose to his cheeks. "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

"No, it doesn't," Weiss assured him. "It sounds very sweet." She leaned forward and planted a gentle peck upon his cheek. "Thank you."

Flash's mouth hung open. He stared at her, slack-jawed, making a wordless noise for a moment or two before he recovered himself somewhat, at least enough to say, "It was just, well, you know… whatever you need, okay, I just…" He looked around, seeming to want to look everywhere or anywhere except at Weiss, and it was as his eyes darted around the lounge that he suddenly said, "Hey, is that Blake?"

---

"Now are you sure that you've got everything?" Yang asked. "Do you have a scarf, because I hear it can get pretty cold up there. Do you have a warm coat?"

Blake rolled her eyes. "Aura can keep a person warm in the cold, you know that."

"I also know that being out in the cold drains aura, so you should wrap up warm just in case," Yang said.

"She ain't wholly wrong about that," Applejack said, quietly but unhelpfully, from just behind Blake.

They were stood at the gate into the departure lounge; only passengers with tickets for one of the departing skyliners were allowed to wait in the lounge, and so, Blake was saying her goodbyes at the gate that led into the same. Her scroll, with her ticket on it, was held loosely in one hand, while a small hold-all bag with everything she was taking with her – which was most of the few possessions that she owned – dangled from the straps by the other hand, at about the level of her knees. Fluttershy and Applejack stood behind her, Winona sitting by Applejack's heels as they waited for Blake to join them heading through the gate. Rainbow wasn't there to say goodbye to them – Team RSPT were moving Penny onto the Atlesian cruiser Hope, which would carry them to Atlas in probably less comfortable circumstances than Blake was going to enjoy. However, even without Rainbow, Ciel, or Twilight present, there were plenty of people come to see her off: Yang, Ren, Nora, Sunset, and Pyrrha, three of the five having taken a break from Ruby's bedside and the hospital to come and say goodbye to her.

It would have been touching – it was touching, in its own way – if it hadn't led to… well… this.

"I'll be fine, Mom," Blake said pointedly.

Yang laughed nervously. "Sorry, I just… you've been through a lot lately; it would be kind of a shame to go through all that and then die of a chill or a cold or something, right?"

"I'll be okay," Blake assured her. As it happened, she didn't have anything particularly suitable for cold weather to wear, relying on her aura to help with that, but if it really was a necessity, then she was sure that she'd be able to find something in Atlas that was okay to wear in Atlas. "Listen, I'm sorry about leaving right before-"

"It's fine," Yang replied, before Blake could finish saying what it was she was sorry for. "It's just a tournament, right? Who cares, really?"

Sunset coughed into one hand.

Yang smirked. "You always said that you wanted to see it, and you were always honest that we might not be getting you for very long-"

"Or at all, really," Blake muttered.

Yang chuckled. "Or at all, as it turned out," she agreed. "You want to check the place out before you commit, that's fine; that's smart. If you didn't plan to, I'd have suggested you did it."

Blake looked down at her scroll and her bag before she looked back up at Yang. "I barely know you," she said, "and yet, you've done so much for me, worsened your own team's chances for me, sacrificed to help me out, it… I know you far less well than you deserve."

Yang grinned. "The year's not over yet; there's still a little time. And besides, I'm not in this for the glory or the trophies; like I said, it's just a tournament. It might be fun to strut our stuff, but that's not why we're here. Isn't that right, guys?"

"We're here to be huntsmen," Ren declared. "To learn to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"And together, the three of us are as tough as any four-man team!" Nora added enthusiastically.

"You just take care of yourself," Yang told her. "We'll be fine." She held out her hand. "Best of luck up there."

Blake took her hand; Yang had a firm, strong grip. "I don't plan on needing any luck," Blake said. "I plan on taking it easy for a while."

Yang shook her hand firmly. "You do that," she urged, before releasing Blake's hand and taking a step back.

Sunset stepped forward. "Blake," she said softly.

Blake turned to face her, and they were so close that she could see – could notice, in a way that was unavoidable now – the dark bags under Sunset's eyes. "Sunset, are you-?"

"I'm fine," Sunset assured. "I'm just having a little trouble sleeping at the moment; it'll pass."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"

Sunset's eyebrows rose. "Are you going to tell me to wrap up warm, now?"

Blake snorted. "Sorry, I just-"

"You've got enough to worry about," Sunset told her. "Take care of yourself; let me take care of me and mine."

"You've got… you were there too," Blake murmured, lowering her voice so that it didn't carry much further than Sunset herself. "You don't… are you really saying that…? I don't believe that you can be the one who walked out of Mountain Glenn smiling, like it didn't bother you at all."

Mountain Glenn, after all, had gotten to all of them in one way or another, but Sunset had as much cause to be gotten to than Blake, and more than some others.

Sunset's face was still, almost without expression. She paused for a moment, and her voice became a little hoarse as she said, "Whatever I have to do; for them, for you, whatever… I'll do whatever it takes and with a light heart. My team, my friends, my responsibility."

Blake wasn't sure whether to believe that; at least, she wasn't sure whether to believe Sunset about the light heart. She could believe the rest, but she couldn't believe that it wasn't weighing on her.

It would weigh on anyone, even someone as strong as Sunset.

Still, there was nothing more to be said upon the subject now, at least not by Blake and in this circumstance. There wasn't time, and this was not the place. All there was time to say was, "Thank you, for everything."

Sunset reached out and pulled Blake into a hug, almost clinging onto her as though she feared that Blake might disappear like one of her clones the moment that she let her go, or that she, Sunset, might be swept away into some landless ocean the moment that she let go.

"You're too good for Atlas," she murmured into Blake's ear. "They don't deserve you."

The corners of Blake's lips twitched upwards. "That's kind to say," she said, "but ultimately up to me, don't you think?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Sunset conceded, releasing Blake and stepping back. "You take good care of her," she instructed Applejack and Fluttershy.

"We will," Fluttershy said, "I promise."

Pyrrha stepped forward, reaching out to take Blake's hand in both of hers. "Blake," she said, warmth and softness in her voice in equal measure. "Although I'm sure we both wish your visit was under better circumstances, I hope you have a wonderful time in Atlas."

Blake smiled. "Thanks," she said earnestly; after all of these concerns for her wellbeing – well-intentioned though they were – it was nice to get a simple expression of good wishes.

Pyrrha nodded. "I was only there for a very brief visit, but if you get the chance, I highly recommend the Marigold Museum of Antiquities. Some of it's acquisitions are… controversial, but the fact remains, it has the most varied collection of artefacts from across Remnant anywhere in Remnant. Also, you should try and find time to dine at the Sorbonne, the menu there is excellent…" Pyrrha trailed off, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she added, "if, uh, if a little expensive." She chuckled. "And besides, what am I saying, recommending places to see in Atlas as though you didn't have several actual Atlesians ready to be your guides?"

"I'll keep what you said in mind," Blake promised.

Even if the museum was filled with loot stolen from across the kingdoms, that didn't mean that it wasn't worth seeing – the reverse might be said to be true – and while the restaurant was probably inaccessible to anyone who wasn't an Atlesian plutocrat or a visiting Mistralian noble, the recommendation had been well-meant, and that was what mattered.

Blake stepped forward, lowering her voice as she said, "Keep an eye on Sunset, okay? I'm a little worried about her."

Pyrrha pursed her lips together as her green eyes flickered from Blake to Sunset and then back again. "Of course," she whispered. She raised her voice to add, "May the gods bless you with fair winds, clear skies, tranquil seas, and not a grimm to be seen."

Blake bowed her head. "And may we meet again, on whatever shore the fates decree."

Pyrrha released Blake's hand. "And now you really had best be going, before you miss your flight."

“Right,” Blake said, stepping back. “I should, um, I’d better… see you guys!”

“Have fun!” Nora yelled as Sunset waved silently with one hand.

Blake turned away and joined Fluttershy and Applejack – and Winona. With their scrolls, they showed their online tickets to one of the guards at the door, along with Blake and Applejack’s student registrations and accompanying licenses to carry weapons. Their bags were scanned – although Blake was a little unsure as to the point of this, considering that, again, Blake and Applejack were both wearing their deadly weapons openly about their person – and then they were cleared to go through into the departure lounge, with its blue chairs and its slightly paler blue carpet and its vending machines.

They had barely begun to look for somewhere to sit when- “Hey, Applejack!”

Their eyes were drawn by the sound of Flash’s voice to where he stood, waving to them. Weiss was also visible, seated at his side, regarding them all with an inscrutable look on her face.

Applejack waved back before the three of them sauntered over to him. “Howdy, Flash.”

“Hey,” Flash said again, smiling as Winona ran up to him, tongue out, panting eagerly as she leapt up and planted her forepaws upon his stomach. Flash started scratching her behind the ears as he continued, “I’d ask what you guys were doing here, but I guess you’re headed home too, huh?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack agreed. “And about time too. It’ll be good to see the farm again, though we’re gonna check in with the girls in Atlas first.”

Fluttershy bowed her head a little. “I’m sorry that I got you into this.”

“Now, Fluttershy, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Applejack replied. “Ah’m just sayin’, it’ll be good to be home, is all.”

Flash looked up from Winona’s ears. “How… how was it? I heard that you-”

“We’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay, Flash,” Fluttershy murmured with a glance at Blake.

Flash didn’t appear to notice the gaze. “Of course,” he said. “I didn’t mean to… the last thing I’d want is to bring up any bad memories; I’m sorry. I should have thought. Anyway, Applejack, Fluttershy, this is my team leader, Weiss Schnee. Weiss, this is Applejack and Fluttershy, two old friends of mine from Canterlot.”

Applejack touched the brim of her hat. “Pleasure to meet ya, Miss Schnee.”

Weiss started to get up, but Applejack motioned to forestall her. “Now, now, keep yer seat, ma’am; ain’t no call for-”

Weiss got up regardless and held up one hand to silence Applejack. “Applejack, was it? First of all, please don’t call me ‘ma’am,’ it makes me sound old; second of all, while my name is Schnee, and yes, I am one of those Schnees, I’m also a huntress in training just like you, which means that while courtesy is appreciated, deference is not required.” A small smile appeared upon her pale face. “I’m not going to buy your land just because you didn’t show me sufficient respect. Weiss will do just fine. With all that said,” she curtsied, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Applejack, and you, Fluttershy. It’s always nice to meet friends of Flash’s.”

“Likewise, Weiss,” Fluttershy replied. “Are you travelling back to Atlas together?”

“I’d rather travel with a friend than alone but with complimentary drinks in first class,” Weiss said. She looked at Blake. “And what about you, Blake? I wouldn’t have expected you to visit Atlas.”

“I want to see what it’s like,” Blake said, “before I make any permanent decisions on my future.”

“I see,” Weiss murmured with very little indication of her feelings in her tone.

“Flight to Atlas now boarding,” the announcement rang out over the tannoy. “Flight to Atlas now boarding.”

“Sounds like that’s all of us,” Flash said, grabbing his suitcase. “Say, why don’t we all have dinner together tonight, the five of us?”

“Blake?” Fluttershy asked. “What do you think about that?”

Are you okay with this, or will it make you uncomfortable, in which case we won’t do it? It was… kind of her to be so considerate, Blake supposed, but it also wasn’t subtle in the least bit.

Blake, for her part, didn’t take her eyes off Weiss Schnee, who was looking at Blake with those icy eyes that hid whatever she might be thinking.

She hadn’t done anything to Blake, not even when the truth about her past came to light; she had been scrupulously inactive with regards to Blake.

But still… a Schnee.

I thought the same when I first saw a faunus in an Atlas uniform. If I’m really going to judge Weiss by her family name, then why am I even bothering to go to Atlas in the first place?

How can I ask her to see more than the White Fang in me if I can’t see more than the SDC in her?

Weiss was not the one who had branded Adam, Weiss was not the one who ground down the faunus in the mines of Mantle. She was not born guilty of her father’s crimes.

There had to be hope for a better future, or there was no hope at all.

“Dinner,” she said, “sounds like fun.”

Comments

[Mister Morden]

Good bit of development here... Weiss having to pay the piper for her father's help. Flash's reaction to that... Good stuff.

Yang's mothering was amusing to me, I must admit.

[Raul]

I assume we’re still gonna have that Weiss side arc, which I also remember quite fondly, so yay~