The Queens of Remnant - Chapter 1 (Patreon)
Content
*Yes, I know RWBY returns today, but this story will take forever to post so I didn't want to delay or change my schedule. Y'all can consume this at your leisure! :D
It's finally here! The story I started dreaming about way back when I wrote Boundless. This is loosely based on Chapter 6 of Boundless, if you want to reread it for a refresher. I actually had someone ask me at that time if they could write the AU, but I said that I wanted to so I did!
This is a pretty long story - 48 chapters. It's also told from all 4 POVs, and is pretty much 50/50 Bumbleby and White Rose so EVERYONE should be happy!
The first 4 chapters are sort of prologues/intros to the girls' lives. I hope you like it! It took a helluva lot of work...
Also, I recently started watching Harley Quinn so don't be surprised if you see a Harlivy oneshot pop up sooner or later XD Without further ado, let's get started!
***
The palace teemed with staff and Councilors alike, but any sense of liveliness stopped at the doorway to the dining hall. With high, arching ceilings offering plenty of space for drafts, the immense room maintained Atlas’ fabled chill regardless of the nearby fireplaces. The chill lingered on Weiss’ skin like a thin layer of ice refusing to melt, but she wasn’t as bothered by it as she used to be. The unyielding silence, on the other hand...
After spending her entire life this way, one would think she’d be accustomed to it by now. Unfortunately, that hadn’t happened yet. Maybe in another few years, or another decade, she could sit here without searching for a glimmer of life or warmth.
The silence’s sinister undertone bothered her most. It wasn’t silence born of boredom or lack of words; it was born of fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of drawing attention.
Knowing that fear all too well, she sat quietly at the table after yet another dinner alone. Time crawled by as she stared at the wall opposite of her, picking out details in a painting she had memorized years ago. The Knight’s icy sword reflected the sun using trickery of paint. His opponent cowered in terror, hands raised above his head begging for mercy. The noble king in the background, seated atop a snowy steed, radiated power in the form of ice.
The image represented everything ugly about Atlas. The desire to conquer, the lust for power, the lack of mercy…it was her father in illustrated form. Fitting, seeing as how he had commissioned most of the artwork decorating the palace walls.
She used to hate the painting, which disheartened her in a deeply rooted, inescapable way. As time went on, however, she accepted its place in her life. In all likelihood, the painting would outlast her, so she tried to imagine beyond the scene frozen in front of her.
Maybe the Knight stayed his sword. Maybe mercy was granted. Maybe the powerful king met his match in the form of another ruler representing the light to his dark. The good to his evil. Maybe this scene was just the beginning, not the end. That was the hope Weiss clung to.
A disturbance broke her gaze away from the painting though - soft footsteps crossing the immaculately polished floors before a steaming cup of tea clinked down on the table in front of her. Noticing the different color and aroma, Weiss turned toward the older woman standing beside her.
“What’s this?”
“Lavender, Princess.”
“Lavender?” Weiss glanced at the cup before refocusing on the woman with a moderate amount of confusion. “What happened to chamomile?”
The worry creeping into the woman’s steel-blue eyes was more than enough of an answer.
“There is none?” Weiss asked, and the woman bowed her head.
“The war, Princess. I searched everywhere for chamomile, but we haven’t received the last three shipments…”
“It’s alright,” Weiss said, pulling the cup toward her. “I’ve never had lavender tea before. Perhaps I’ll like it.”
“Perhaps, Princess.”
Though the woman should have no reason to be afraid due to circumstances out of her control, she anxiously awaited the verdict while Weiss lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip.
“Hmm.”
The flavor might be different, but it was still a warm, soothing beverage that the kitchen made on Weiss’ behalf.
“Not bad,” she said before taking another sip. “It’s actually quite good.”
“Thank you, Princess,” the woman replied, relief evident in her tone and more relaxed bow. “I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s a suitable substitute,” Weiss added in an effort to continue the conversation. This was the first person she’d spoken to all day, after all. “Where’s the woman you usually work with?” she asked. When the woman’s gaze fell to the floor, she wished that she hadn’t bothered.
“She...took a job outside the palace, Princess.”
“Did she anger my father?” Weiss asked, hearing the hardly concealed disdain in her voice. “Sneeze in his presence, perhaps? Accidentally look at him the wrong way?”
Eyes still trained on the floor, the woman shook her head.
“She thought it was time to...move on.”
Weiss sighed at the non-answer but let it go. The palace staff were well-versed in giving tight-lipped answers about the goings-on around here. Either they didn’t want to ‘bore’ her with those details, or they didn’t believe that she cared. Unfortunately, this was just another fact of life she would have to accept. Still, she knew her father’s temper better than anyone, and she’d seen him fire plenty of people for the ‘egregious’ errors she just listed.
“That’s a shame...” she muttered, frowning at her tea for yet another good worker lost.
“It is, Princess...do you need anything else?”
“No, that’ll be all. Thank you.”
After a quick bow, the woman rushed out of the room as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. Weiss, meanwhile, took another sip of tea and sighed as the bitter silence returned.
Technically, she was never alone. The palace bustled with activity at all hours of the day as servants, butlers, Knights, Councilors, and handmaidens went about their busy lives. Yet somehow...she always felt alone.
Alone in a crowd of people that wanted nothing to do with her. Whether because they were told not to interact with her or because they just didn’t like her, most of the staff went out of their way to avoid her. The Councilors dismissed her presence. The Knights bowed but spoke only when absolutely necessary.
As much as she might like to speak to them - to hear about their lives or even just...wish them a happy birthday or celebrate other special occasions - she had accepted that such a trivial desire would never happen. Not only did they have little interest in speaking to her, but she couldn’t trust them even if they did. Everyone here worked for her father, after all, leaving no room for allegiance to her. If they could win favor by spilling her secrets, they would do so without hesitation.
Such was life under her father's rule, which was as harsh behind closed doors as it was for the rest of Atlas. Tonight, however, was the exception. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, she would have the companionship she secretly longed for. But first, she watched the clock and blew a slow, icy breath across her tea to cool it faster.
Lavender tea - not her favorite chamomile, for reasons everyone intimately understood by now. Lavender was an adequate substitute, but her father would have flown off the handle at such a small change. The staff didn’t view her the same as her father, did they? The last thing she wanted to be was remotely comparable to that angry, heartless man, so she drank the entire cup without complaint before leaving the dining hall behind.
“Good evening, Princess,” one of the butlers mumbled as she crossed the palace’s entryway. The ceiling towered above them, glittering with silver and jewels.
“Good evening,” she replied with a nod and nothing more.
Usually, she wasn’t in a hurry - usually, she had nowhere to go - but tonight, she didn’t want to be late. Her destination lay at the far end of the palace, as far away from the entryway as one could get without being forced into Atlas’ harsh, endless winter. The remoteness offered privacy but required a considerable trek just to get there.
When she reached the extravagant hallway running past the Council’s offices and discovered two of the esteemed men standing outside one of the doors, her pace unwittingly slowed. With their stark-white robes accented by sparkling silver tassels, influence radiated from them in droves.
Presently, they spoke in low voices suggesting their conversation was too important for passersby to overhear and barely glanced her way as she neared. One of them might have nodded to her at the last second, but that was it - that was all the respect her ‘position’ garnered. Realistically, that was still more respect than she deserved.
Pushing that thought away, she sought out the nearest clock, hanging above the plain wooden door leading down to the servants’ quarters, and determined she had just enough time. At least, she thought so until she turned the next corner and found herself staring at a wall that hadn’t been there last week.
“What -?” she said to no one in particular before glancing around and waving to the nearest worker she found. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at the boarded-off construction zone.
“The King commissioned a new war room, Princess. It will be done next month.”
Sighing at the unexpected obstacle, Weiss turned around and retraced her steps. “Thank you,” she told the man as she hurried away. With that route blocked, she had to loop all the way around the palace to get where she needed to go. This path would take her right past her father’s office - the primary reason she hadn’t wanted to go this way - but now she didn’t have a choice. And she didn’t want to be late. If she was lucky, he was already gone for the night, off being schmoozed to by his favorite Councilors or drinking himself into a stupor - possibly both.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t lucky. He stood in the hallway just outside his office, accompanied by several Councilors looking to bend his ear or seek favors. Just seeing him, with his imposing stature, impeccably groomed white hair and mustache, made her heart race. But it was the red on his cheeks and boastful puffs of frost billowing from his lips that made her steps falter.
If she walked quickly and avoided eye contact, she should be fine. He seemed distracted by whatever the Councilors were saying, which must be more important than paying attention to her.
With her gaze trained on the floor, she moved down the hall as quickly and quietly as possible. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her hands grew clammy the closer she drew. They were talking about the war - the war was all anyone seemed to talk about these days - so she could just slip past -
“Weiss.”
Her heart sank, but she knew better than to pretend she hadn’t heard him. Instead, she plastered on a smile and turned around.
“Yes, Father?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant and calm even as the temperature in the hallway dropped several degrees.
“When you see that insolent sister of yours, tell her I’m looking for her.”
Weiss’ smile wavered when his expression darkened at the mere mention of Winter. Rather than ask about the cause, however, she nodded and said, “If I see her, I’ll let her know.”
Hoping that was all, she tried to hurry away only to freeze when he spoke again.
“I have a better idea.”
The tone struck fear into her heart, and she strained to hold a small smile as she slowly turned back to him.
“Why don’t you find her,” he said, his light blue eyes brewing with unconcealed rage. “Find her and bring her to me.”
Weiss had no idea what Winter did this time, but his palpable anger made her fear for both herself and her sister. The last thing she wanted to do was throw Winter into this tempest, but disobeying wasn’t an option either.
“I will, Father,” she replied, bowing her head, but he laughed at her response. The Councilors, who had watched the interaction with curiosity bordering on amusement until then, chuckled along with him.
“Why do I doubt that?” While he looked down at her, a sneer lurking on his lips, she shrank away. “What good are you if you can’t even fetch your sister?”
The Councilors watched closely now, curious as to how she would respond to the derision. But she never turned away from her father, and she never let her smile falter as she curtsied.
“I’ll look for her,” she whispered before turning around and hurrying away.
“Don’t bother,” he called after her. “Sparkless waste of space…”
Weiss’ foot faltered mid-step, but that pause lasted no more than a second before she rushed to the end of the hall. She didn’t respond, and she didn’t look back while leaving him behind.
His words still upset her, and she hated that. After years of being called a worthless, useless, sparkless disgrace, she should be used to it by now. Instead, her eyes burned and hurt poured through her veins.
She wasn’t useless. At least, not in the way he believed. She wasn’t helpful either, but that was by his own doing. If he wanted her to be helpful, he could make it so. He could give her something of value to do, and she could do it. She knew that she could. She was smart, capable, and could learn whatever she needed in order to see it done. But if he let her prove herself, he wouldn’t have anyone to ridicule and laugh at with the Councilors.
As much as the comment had gotten under her skin - again - she pushed it from her mind while rushing to the smallest of the ballrooms tucked into the back of the palace. The ‘small’ room still dwarfed many buildings in Atlas, with a tall, arching entryway that created a cavernous sensation even before entering. The double doors featured intricate carvings inlaid with silver - an entrance fitting with the rest of the castle: excessive by design. This wasn’t just any castle, after all. This was the castle built for the King of Atlas.
Stepping through the doors offered immediate relief. For the first time today, she could relax, if only for a little while. Even better, Winter was already here.
When they were younger - before the war started, when visitors used to frequent the palace - Weiss often overheard how much she and Winter looked alike. She hoped that was still the case, as Winter’s piercing blue eyes, striking features, and fair white hair captured countless admirers throughout the kingdom. Even standing alone in the ballroom - eyes closed, head bowed, and hands lightly clasped behind her back - Winter possessed a stunning, effortless regality that had always held Weiss’ envy.
Regardless of how different they might be, Weiss’ steps quickened as she approached her sister. Winter’s eyes opened moments later, and light blue found her easily.
“You’re late.”
Glancing at the ornate clock hung on the far wall, Weiss sighed.
“By one minute, Winter,” she whined. “And you know I was on the other side of the palace.”
“I suggest leaving one minute earlier next time.”
When Weiss put her hands on her hips and shook her head, Winter’s stern expression faded. A small smile crept onto Winter’s lips instead and, as soon as it did, Weiss smiled in return.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though Weiss used a teasing tone, she would take the words to heart. Winter was a stickler for punctuality, and Weiss should manage her time more efficiently.
But that was a lesson for later. Right now, Weiss stood in front of her sister and felt like her heart might overflow. Admittedly, neither of them were huggers, but in times like these she wished that they were. She wished for some way to express how much she’d missed her sister’s presence.
“I’m glad you’re back,” was the best she could do, and Winter responded with a small nod to go along with her perfect posture.
“It’s nice to be home,” she replied before her gaze drifted to the ballroom floor. “For a little while at least.”
In a few short words, Weiss was reminded that they never knew how long Winter might be home for. Because Winter’s life, just like Weiss’, was not her own.
“Father’s looking for you…” Weiss said quietly, watching Winter’s eyes cloud at the mention of the man. “He’s...in a mood.”
“I’m sure he is...”
“What’d he send you to do this time?” Weiss asked, but Winter shook her head.
“It’s nothing for you to hear.”
“I’m not a child.”
“I know you’re not. But...you aren’t ready yet.”
Weiss wanted to argue that she was ready for anything - she had survived their father for this long, hadn’t she? - but Winter wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her gaze.
“Does it have to do with the war?” Weiss prodded, and Winter sighed.
“Of course it does, Weiss. Everything has to do with the war.”
That was the unavoidable truth of their lives over the past few years. The war impacted everything and everyone. No one was spared from its evils, but some of them suffered more than others. Weiss lived with the constant tension in the palace and minor inconveniences like the wrong flavor of tea, but Winter…
Winter’s use to Atlas was practically endless - something their father reminded Weiss of constantly. Winter refused to say what their father made her do, but Weiss knew every task was met with resistance and abhorrence. She also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that their father was a wretched, malicious man who abused his power at every possible turn.
To win the war, he would destroy Winter’s soul. Weiss saw it in the dark circles under Winter’s eyes and the way she hid in the palace whenever she was home. The way she avoided their father like the Phage until he tracked her down and forced her to do his bidding.
What happened when he pushed too far? Because it wasn’t a question of if, but when. One day, he would give Winter a task that she refused to accept - what happened then? Winter was the only reason Weiss believed that this was just the beginning. That their painting might point to one conclusion, but another ending awaited them.
Weiss couldn’t lose her. There was no surviving in this place without Winter.
“I won’t think differently of you,” she offered. “No matter what.”
“Thank you, Weiss.”
A fleeting smile was all Winter offered in return, and Weiss forced away a sigh.
“If only Vale would surrender already...” she grumbled under her breath.
“Knowing our father, would you surrender?”
Weiss considered the question before sighing again and shaking her head. If their father won...if he beat Vale into submission...Vale’s way of life was over. They would become prisoners for the rest of their days. They couldn’t give up. At the same time, their persistence kept Atlas in a state of constant turmoil...
“Remember, Weiss - what you hear in the palace isn’t always true. This war has gone far beyond the ‘threat of Vale’ and rampant expansion. This is life or death for an entire kingdom.”
When put that way, Weiss’ concern grew. The war had lasted longer than expected, but she hadn’t considered what would happen when someone finally lost. Realistically, the victor wouldn’t grant mercy. They would take over the broken kingdom and strip it of whatever resources it had left.
“There must be another way,” she said, but Winter shook her head.
“Outside of petitioning the Queens of Vale personally, I’m afraid not.”
Weiss scoffed at the mere suggestion. Their father would never consider surrender. Even if by some miracle he did, the Queens of Vale wouldn’t accept. They shouldn’t accept.
“But enough about that,” Winter finally said. “Are you ready?”
When Winter gestured to the middle of the polished dance floor, Weiss’ excitement returned. ‘Ready’ was an understatement - Weiss had looked forward to this moment ever since the last time. Not only did she get to spend time with Winter, an increasingly rare occurrence these days, but she also got to practice under the watchful eye of someone more experienced than herself.
“Yes.”
“Good.” After moving several paces away, Winter leveled Weiss with an intent stare. “A wolf.”
As soon as Winter said the word, Weiss focused on the image in her mind and called upon the spark in her heart - the pesky, ever-present shard of ice dying to get out. It jumped at the opportunity to be free of its eternal cage and raced through her veins with such an icy chill that a wisp of frost slipped through her lips.
It was ready - she was ready - and she quickly expanded that ice outside of herself, watching a shape materialize on the floor in front of her. First, it formed as if from a fog, thin strands of white swirling into being from nothing. As she focused, however, the shape hardened into clear, smooth ice that shimmered under the ballroom lights.
She had never seen a wolf in real life - how could she when she’d never been outside the walls of Atlas? - so she guessed their size based on pictures she had seen.
“Bigger,” Winter instructed, so Weiss made the wolf larger - taller and longer - until its shoulders nearly reached Winter’s hip.
“A chair.”
Releasing her focus on the wolf, which disappeared in the same wisps of white with which it had appeared, Weiss formed a chair - the chair she had used at dinner since that was the first one that came to mind. The intricate carvings in the armrests sparkled when made of ice, lending a beautiful, ethereal quality to the piece of furniture.
“Snow.”
The chair disappeared in a swirl of white, and Weiss briefly closed her eyes to focus on the concept of snow. The easy solution was to drop snowflakes where she and Winter stood, but taking the easiest route wasn’t the purpose of practice - this was about challenging herself.
Inviting more ice into her veins - a chill so strong she felt like she could freeze from the inside out - she expanded her mind and prompted it to snow across the entire ballroom. Winter looked at the thick, fluffy snowflakes falling around them and, for a split second, smiled.
“A rose.”
This time, Weiss didn’t give up the prior instruction before moving forward. Instead, she kept the snow falling, lightly dusting the floor in the process, while forming a rose in her hand. The stem ran between her fingers as the petals sprang into being - layer upon layer of delicate, icy petals crystallizing under her command.
“Good. Shield.”
Weiss hardly processed the word before a flurry of icicles whipped toward her. Caught off guard, she didn’t fully form a shield in time but managed to sweep the icicles away before they reached her.
“Sword.”
Weiss’ heart raced now, but she knew better than to stop. They had this argument before, and Winter always insisted. So, as an icy saber appeared in Winter’s hand, Weiss formed a rapier in her own and raised it just in time to block Winter’s first blow.
No sooner had their icy blades crashed did another flurry of icicles flash in from the left. The shield would be helpful, but Weiss didn’t like carrying a shield. Instead, she formed a temporary wall of ice beside her while focusing on blocking every slash and slice Winter threw her way.
Winter was highly skilled in swordsmanship, a skill she had taught Weiss over time, but the sword in her hand was always a ruse. A distraction. The real danger was never obvious, as she often warned.
Before Weiss figured out where the real danger was, she stepped backward onto a patch of ice and lost her footing. The loss of balance lasted only a split second, but that was all the opening Winter needed to sweep Weiss off her feet, sending her crashing to the floor, and level the saber to her chest.
Weiss always lost with a saber pointed to her chest. This time, however, she tried something new. Calling upon the spark in her heart, she willed it to protect her as she leaned forward, destroying Winter’s saber inch by inch as she lifted herself off the floor. Winter fought back, using her own spark to keep the sword fully formed, but Weiss had the element of surprise.
As soon as Winter realized that she lost the battle of wills, she destroyed the first saber. That brief moment gave Weiss just enough time to regain her feet before Winter summoned another and leveled it at her.
“Good,” Winter said before nodding to the saber - again, pointed at Weiss’ chest. What Winter hadn’t noticed, however, was the danger lurking behind her. In fact, she didn’t notice at all until Weiss motioned over her shoulder. Only then did she turn around and see the six perfectly formed rapiers poised at her back.
“Draw?”
Winter stared at the swords hanging in the air behind her before huffing.
“You’re getting stronger.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Don’t you feel it?”
“All I feel is cold, Winter,” Weiss said, but Winter smiled at her.
“You’ll get used to it in time.”
Weiss sighed at the response and touched her heart, which seemed to grow colder by the day. Sometimes, it felt so cold that she feared it might freeze solid. Winter assured her that would never happen, that this was their curse as much as their blessing. If anything, the colder Weiss’ heart grew, the more she proved everyone wrong.
“Will we tell Father soon?” she asked, looking up and watching Winter’s eyes darken.
“You must never tell him. Just like you should never tell anyone else.”
“But Winter -”
“Weiss, listen to me.” Setting both hands on Weiss’ shoulders, Winter waited for Weiss to meet her gaze before continuing. “You must keep this a secret for as long as you can. If Father finds out, he’ll only use you for it.”
Weiss bit her lip and frowned at the answer. Growing up, she thought keeping her burgeoning spark under wraps was a fun game that she and Winter played. As she got older, it became a secret the two of them shared. But now...
“I know what they say about you,” Winter added, addressing Weiss’ hesitation directly. “That you’re a gimp. Broken. Unworthy.”
Weiss flinched at the words, which were whispered behind her back when she walked through the halls or shouted in her face when her father was angry.
“Don’t listen to them.” Winter gently shook Weiss’ shoulders to regain her attention. “Their words mean nothing. You are the Princess of Atlas, and your power could very well surpass the rest of us. Until you find your footing though, I don’t want someone taking advantage of you. So promise me - you won’t tell anyone.”
When Weiss sighed at the request, Winter squeezed her shoulders.
“Promise me, Weiss.”
Looking into Winter’s eyes, Weiss saw how serious and concerned her sister was. Keeping this secret grew harder as time dragged on, especially with their father’s vitriol growing, but she would promise Winter anything - Winter knew that.
“I promise,” she whispered, and Winter finally nodded. Winter knew that she was asking Weiss to live with a stigma yet saw no other way. And Weiss trusted that if there was another way, Winter would find it. Until then...she would continue hiding in the shadows, as she had done for her entire life.
“Do you want to start again?” Winter asked before long, and Weiss nodded while moving back into position. Before Winter picked her first object, however, Weiss heard a door open behind her. Recognizing the immediate worry in Winter’s eyes, Weiss spun around and felt her heart come to a complete stop.
“So this is where you sneak off to.”
Their father’s words were slurred, and his gait swayed, but that did nothing to erase the malice in his eyes as he strode toward them. Winter slid closer to Weiss as he approached, but the subtle support did nothing to keep her fear from rising exponentially with each step.
“Think you can hide from me?” he continued, a scowl tugging down the corners of his mouth. “This is my castle. My kingdom. And you two - just two more useless subjects.”
“It’s time to go,” Winter said, taking Weiss by the shoulder and turning her the other way.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
They had only taken a step before a barricade of ice erupted from the floor, blocking their path. With that escape cut off, Winter sighed and squeezed Weiss’ shoulder.
“Let me take care of this,” she whispered before facing their father’s wrath. “Is there something you need, Father?” she asked, somehow using a level tone when Weiss’ voice would have shaken with fear.
“I’ve heard reports,” he replied, his eyes glinting at the mere memory. “There were survivors.”
“There was no reason for battle,” Winter replied calmly. “Everyone disbanded without incident.”
“And I told you to teach them a lesson. Do you not understand what that means?”
“I’m aware of what it means -”
“Then why were there survivors?” he shouted, the temperate abruptly dropping several degrees as icy rage unruled from his lips.
Weiss squeezed her shaking hands into fists and dared a glance at Winter. They needed to leave - they both knew they had to leave - but Winter just stared back at him, her jaw clenched and her posture rigid.
“There was no need -” she tried again, only for him to slap her across the face. Weiss flinched at the sound and cowered when he stepped closer.
“You do what I say,” he seethed, towering to his full, intimidating height while stinging bursts of chill emanated from him. “And when I tell you to teach someone a lesson, you do it.”
As his spark reared its head, Winter subtly pushed Weiss behind her but said nothing as he glowered down at her. By now, they knew that nothing they said would be acceptable when he was like this. Either they shut up and accepted the punishment, or...they said something and accepted an even greater punishment. But the moment he raised his hand, prepared to hit Winter again, Weiss stepped forward.
“Father -”
“Silence,” he snapped, forming a layer of ice across her mouth that forced her compliance. “This is between me and your sister.”
Holding one hand to her mouth to melt away the restraint, Weiss watched Winter, but Winter’s gaze never left their father. He had been in bad moods before, but this one seemed particularly dangerous. Whatever Winter hadn’t done angered him enough to put him in this state. Now they needed to distract him or find a way to placate his rage...
“Weiss,” Winter said quietly, still not turning away from him. “It’s time for you to leave.”
Weiss shook her head, but it was their father who responded with a firm “No.” And when he glared at her, her blood ran even colder than normal. She knew to fear him, but the look in his eyes was venomous…hateful.
“You stay right there,” he ordered, his tone and expression terrifying her even more. “You stand there and watch. I’ll show you how to teach someone a lesson.”
“Weiss,” Winter tried again, her tone pleading Weiss to run. But Weiss couldn’t. She was scared, but she couldn’t get her feet to move. She didn’t want to disobey him, and she couldn’t leave Winter here alone. Not when he was like this.
“I told you...to teach them a lesson…”
His voice was quiet now, and the quiet was worse. So much worse. It made Weiss want to run to her room and hide under the covers. Instead, she watched in horror as he stepped toward Winter.
A block of ice appeared out of nowhere, slamming into Winter’s stomach and sending her crashing to her knees.
“That means they think twice before crossing you again,” he continued, grabbing Winter by her hair and yanking her back to her feet. No sooner was she standing did he raise his hand and pull down a mallet of ice, which he swung into her ribs with a painful crack that forced a gasp of pain through her lips and brought tears to Weiss’ eyes.
“That means they never disobey you.”
This time, he used that hammer to hit Winter squarely in the jaw, sending her head whipping to one side as she sprawled onto her hands and knees on the floor.
“Stop,” Weiss whispered while Winter pushed herself back to her feet and squared her shoulders. She was in pain - Weiss could see that she was in pain - but she didn’t fight back. She never fought back.
“That means they learn to fear you.”
“Please…stop,” Weiss repeated as he struck Winter again, leveling a crushing blow into her elbow with a sickening crack that sent her back to her knees. She didn’t immediately get up this time - she clutched her arm to her chest and grimaced first, then stubbornly stood up.
Weiss tried to run to Winter’s side, but her father shoved her back and, with nothing more than a withering glare, froze her feet to the floor with thick blocks of ice. She yelped and nearly tumbled over at the sudden inability to move but just barely caught her balance.
“Father, please,” she tried again, hearing the terror in her voice as the ice crept up her legs.
“Shut up,” he spat out, roughly encasing her elbow in more ice and dragging her to her knees. With her immobilized, he turned back to Winter and summoned a wicked blade in his hand. The icy tip sparkled in the light from the chandeliers, filling Weiss with dread.
“That means they cower in front of you,” he growled while holding the knife to Winter’s throat.
He was going to kill her. Weiss could see it in his eyes - he wouldn’t stop until Winter didn’t move any longer. Only then would she ever obey.
“Please stop,” Weiss begged him. Tears welled in her eyes, but she could do nothing as he pressed the tip of the blade deeper. Winter glared at him but didn’t move, unflinching even as a faint line of red appeared on her neck.
“You’re as worthless as your sister…” he hissed before drawing his arm back. The ice glinted in the air before lashing forward with deadly speed.
“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Weiss screamed. Her heart seized with such terror that the restraints around her arm and legs shattered, sending shards of ice shooting across the ballroom with so much force that it knocked her father and Winter from their feet and sent them crashing to the ground.
The next second, deathly silence filled the room. Winter slowly pushed herself to her feet, still clutching her elbow close to her chest, but their father remained sprawled face-down on the floor, one of his arms at an awkward angle beneath him.
He should be getting up. He should be storming back to Weiss with a fury unlike anything she’d ever seen. He should be threatening to rip her life from her grasp for daring to show such disobedience in his presence.
But he didn’t move. Not even when Winter walked over to him, and not when she grabbed his shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Only then did they see the knife lodged into his heart, the blade buried deep and at the worst possible angle.
“Oh my god…” Weiss breathed out, sinking to her knees and staring at the stark red blood soaking through his clothes. “Winter…” she got out before her sister rushed over and knelt in front of her.
“Weiss. Weiss, listen to me.”
Staring at her father, expecting him to open his eyes at any second, Weiss only turned away when Winter shook her shoulders.
“I need you to call for the guards.”
“But -”
“Listen,” Winter interrupted, glancing at their father before taking a deep breath. “I need you to call for the guards and tell them I did this. Tell them he got angry and I did this - do you understand?”
“Winter -”
“There isn’t time.” Winter squeezed Weiss’ shoulders almost painfully hard while staring into her eyes. “I need you to do this. Ok? Can you do it?”
“I-I…I think so,” Weiss stammered, her hands shaking and her chest heaving with burgeoning panic.
“Good. Now close your eyes.”
Weiss didn’t want to close her eyes, but when Winter gave her a pointed look, she complied.
“Keep them closed.”
More tears welled up and a sob threatened to burst out, but Weiss did as instructed. She didn’t open her eyes…not even when she heard a sickly sound that made her wince. Not even when she heard Winter’s steps return to her. Not even when she felt Winter’s hand on her knee.
“Now count to five, then call for the guards.”
“Winter,” she whined, her lip quivering while tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Count to five, then call for the guards.”
Weiss didn’t want to call for the guards; she wanted to run to her room, bury her head under her pillow, and cry. “Weiss,” Winter pressed her with such urgency that she took a deep shaky breath and let it out with a soft, reluctant, “One…”
“Good,” Winter whispered before lightly kissing Weiss on the forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Now count, Weiss.”
“Two…” Weiss whispered while listening to soft footsteps rush away. A sob slipped out, knowing that if she opened her eyes now, Winter would already be gone. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter instead.
“Three…”
It was quiet now. Quiet except for her racing heart and her sniffles as more tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
“Four…”
She didn’t want to open her eyes ever again. Unless doing so meant she would wake up from this nightmare.
“Five…”
She didn’t want to, but she would do anything for Winter…even this.
“Someone help!!” she shouted with her eyes still closed. “Guards! Anyone! Please help!!”
She didn’t know if anyone could hear her, but eventually footsteps tore toward the room. Eventually, the doors slammed open.
“Come quickly!” she added before burying her face in her hands and dissolving into tears. Several people rushed into the ballroom, their footsteps hurrying over to her while giant sobs wracked her body.
“What happened?” someone asked. “Princess - what happened?”
“Winter…” was all she got out before more tears appeared. Thankfully, she didn’t need to say anything else.
“Tell the Knights to find Princess Winter immediately,” the voice commanded. Footsteps rushed off. More footsteps rushed into the room. Someone knelt beside her.
“Princess, are you ok? Are you hurt?”
When she dared open her eyes, she glanced at her father’s body and found one of Winter’s sabers lodged where the knife had been. The blade was already melting, combining with the blood seeping from his chest to form a watery pool of red on the ballroom floor.
The sight made Weiss squeeze her eyes shut as her sobs returned. More people arrived to help. Confused voices were everywhere. Someone tried to help her up but she shrugged them off. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She wanted to undo what just happened. She wanted Winter to be here.
She wanted the silence back.