Chapter Text
Most days, the halls of Schnee Manor were silent. There was only so much space that the family of five occupied and so much more that they didn’t. The servants of course were contracted to clean every inch of the property, but they rarely made much noise.
Today, however, the estate was abuzz with activity. It was the Schnee heiress’ birthday after all.
“It looks wonderful, mother,” the newly turned twelve-year-old Winter Schnee declared, looking up at her mother who stood beside her.
Standing atop the grand staircase in the manor foyer, they surveyed her birthday decorations.
Banners had been hung and unfurled, each was emblazoned with Winter’s visage. In each, she stood tall and primly, chin high, her shoulders straight, her hands clasped behind her back, and her lips pursed but curved ever so slightly into a subtle smile. Alongside those, flower arrangements and balloons of varying colors added life to the room, contrasting against cool tones of grey, marble, and slate. Not much else had been added, the rest of the decor reserved for the rest of the manor where the real gatherings would be hosted.
Although, first impressions did matter, thus the reason Winter and her mother had seen to check in on the servant’s progress here.
“Doesn’t it?” Willow Schnee remarked with a fond smile, squeezing her shoulders gently before glancing about the main floor. “I should thank them before the guests arrive.”
As the adult woman pursed her lips and craned her head around, Winter raised an eyebrow.
“There’s no need to bother the help,” the heiress reasoned with a frown. “They only did what they were told.”
There was a glint in her mother’s eyes, something like disappointment flashing in those crystal blue orbs. Then, her expression flattened into a deadpan stare.
Winter blinked at her before she felt fingers grab her cheeks and pinch them.
“Look at you, twelve-years-old and sounding just like your father,” the Schnee matriarch teased, growing an amused smile.
She whined and pawed at her hands, trying to stop this– this– infantilization!
“Mother!” Winter mewled.
Her mother laughed. “Don't grow up on me too quickly, my little snow angel.”
Suddenly, she was grabbed in a tight hug and picked up an inch off the ground. A grunt escaped her, followed by a whimper as her face reddened. Her mother merely giggled and clutched her tightly as if she were a pet kitten.
Eventually, Winter was set back down and the moment she was she announced her displeasure by crossing her arms and huffing loudly. Laughter echoed through the foyer as the her mother descended the staircase, glancing between the floor below and the mezzanine above.
“Now, where are your siblings?” she asked, stroking her chin.
Winter shrugged and followed after her. “I don’t know. Should we call one of the servants?”
Her mother shook her head and extended a hand out to her. “Best not to distract them while they’re still setting up.”
“But it would be faster,” Winter argued.
A smile crossed the Schnee matriarch’s lips. “I suppose, but we could treat this like an adventure. Just like your grandfather would have.”
Willow Schnee spoke wistfully. Longingly. Her mother’s father, Winter’s grandfather, had passed not even half a decade ago. The wound was still fresh, and even Whitley, who hadn’t even been born yet seemed to feel the emptiness in the manor.
Winter frowned and sighed. “Mother, please.”
“Please, what?” Her mother crossed her arms and shot her a knowing look. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneaking in and out of your father's study recently.”
Her face pinkened immediately and Winter tried to hold a straight face.
“I’m merely checking in with father!”
“When he’s not in?”
“H-He is!”
“Oh?” Her mother rubbed her chin. “Then how do you explain your grandfather’s journals ending up in your room?”
The carpet running down the stairs became interesting suddenly. Winter just couldn’t tear her eyes away from it as she scratched her heels into the fibers anxiously. All the while, she struggled to force the blood rushing to her face back down to where it’d come from.
It wasn’t her fault her grandfather had traveled so far and done so much. It wasn’t her fault he wrote of his experiences so fancifully and hadn’t embellished a single detail! Well, perhaps he had embellished a bit, he was always like that: Boastful, but kind. Strong, but gentle.
Winter shook the memories from her head and looked up, pressing her lips into a pout.
“They're just good reading material!” she snipped, marching the rest of the way down the stairs to join her mother on the first floor.
Her mother laughed and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. “Yes, they are. Now, come along, and let’s find Weiss and Whitley before the celebration starts.”
Winter sighed and nodded, though she couldn’t help but hold a tiny smile as she recalled the last few prose Nicholas Schnee had written into the journal she’d read last night.
If there was one thing that James Ironwood despised about his new position as general of the Atlesian military and headmaster of Atlas Academy, it was the political responsibilities that came with it.
The constant meetings, the bureaucratic nonsense, and the endless commentary on his political standing. One part of Atlas wanted him to support them, another side wanted his favor, and both sides kept nagging him to choose. Amidst all that was the old money families trying to get him to do them favors, and then there was Mantle raising their fists in the air at Atlas’ silent endorsement of social inequality and legal extortion.
It was all a never-ending headache that throbbed in the back of his mind, waking him up at night and getting him distracted at the worst times. Mettle helped him focus, but he was consistently afraid that his semblance would be the death of him.
All that aside, he was quite perturbed that instead of working on real issues at his desk in the academy, he was being coerced into attending a celebration at the Schnee estate. At least there would be cake.
“Really, James? That’s what you’re going to wear to the birthday party?”
On his scroll, Glynda covered the amused grin on her face as he looked down at his standard military uniform and overcoat.
“What?” he asked, adjusting his outerwear before turning around to check the back. “Is there something wrong with it?”
“You’re going to be a lone soldier among pompous civilians.”
“Then they know who’s in charge.”
“They’ll also know who’s going to bring down the mood,” she jabbed, still wearing her smile.
James sighed and conceded with a nod.
“Alright. Alright.” He slipped off his overcoat and tossed it onto his bed. “I’ll find something else.”
Moments later, he’d donned an ashen gray suit with a white button-up undershirt, and a scarlet tie complimenting the outfit. In addition, he added a black glove to his prosthetic hand and hid a holster for Due Process under his jacket.
“Better?” he asked, looking over to the scroll propped up on his nightstand.
On the screen, Glynda nodded. “Much better.”
Sometime after, he was on the car ride over to the Schnee estate. His scroll was plugged into a holo-projector, letting him talk to Glynda on a wider screen.
“How’s Cinder?” he asked. “I understand she’s had some issues?”
“Several incidents,” Glynda sighed. “She’s adjusting after everything that happened. After I agreed to start training her, she’s gotten much better. Giving her an incentive seemed to help.”
He huffed and nodded, his hands playing with the ribbon of the little, wrapped box on his lap.
“So… what did you get Miss Schnee?”
Emerald eyes gazed through the screen and down at the present.
James held it up and shrugged.
“It took me a while, but I decided on some earrings. Her mother helped me pick them out.”
A fond look crossed the woman’s face as well as a sense of familiarity. Quickly, however, he noticed a nervous quiver in her lip as she glanced away.
“You want to ask me something,” he declared before she could say it.
Glynda gave him a surprised look, then sighed and nodded.
“We’re approaching the anniversary of when I adopted Cinder,” she explained, her eyes glancing away as her lips curved into an affectionate smile. “I’ve spoken with Ozpin, Peter, and Bartholomew, and we thought it would be a nice surprise to throw her a birthday party, seeing as we don’t know her actual birth date.”
He huffed, thinking about the raven-haired girl they’d saved.
“She’d probably enjoy that.” James leaned to the side and rested his cheek on his knuckles. “But I have a feeling this is going to have something to do with me.”
She cast him a look of disapproval at his disinterested attitude. He quickly fixed it before she could snap at him.
“You were there, James,” she said. “You helped me get her out of that place. I think she would appreciate a gift from you too.”
He rubbed his neck and exhaled heavily. Choosing a present for Winter Schnee had been hard enough already. It’d taken a week and a quick call to Jacque, who’d passed him over to Willow to get a clue as to what to buy. Getting another gift for another girl around the same age was going to be just as hard.
“I’m not even sure of what she likes,” he reasoned.
“Then you can consider this little celebration by the Schnees as a way of finding out what a girl Cinder’s age likes,” Glynda huffed, crossing her arms and giving him a sharp look. “I’ll leave you to your duties now, general.”
With that, the call ended and Ironwood was left to sulk in the back seat of the car.
Not too long after, he finally arrived at the Schnee estate. Climbing up the rocky hill the manor was seated upon, James got a good view of the city before they passed through the main gates. Stretching out beyond his window, he saw the sprawl of a finely manicured courtyard, not a blemish in sight.
The Schnee Manor was as extravagant as ever. Planted trees stood at attention in perfect lines across the sides of the driveway, an island in the driveway hosted three pillars that beheld the Schnee Family crest for all to see as they pulled up, and the manor itself stole the entirety of the horizon. It was a testament to the line of Schnee, once an image of honor and pride now tainted by Jacque’s greed.
Already, he could see a line of cars pulled up to the curb, several members of the Atlas’ high society mingling on the front steps of the manor.
The moment he stepped out of his car, James was beset by the bourgeois. Men and women alike, all dressed in the gaudiest outfits they could, cried his title and sashayed over to him. They remarked on his attire and offered flatteries, and he politely thanked them while hiding his distaste for their presence.
Eventually, he managed to step into the manor foyer, discovering it was filled to the brim with chattering guests, wandering servants, and a good amount of birthday décor. Champagne glasses gleamed under the massive chandelier above, silver trays glinted, and laughter echoed off the walls of the room. Banners bearing the image of the birthday girl hung around the room, staring down at the crowd with a sophisticated gaze, displaying her maturity despite her age. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the festivities so far, so at least he didn’t have to worry about walking in on a scandalous event disrupting the night.
“Ah, General Ironwood!”
Glancing over from a group of socialites, Jacque Schnee grew a smile and stepped away from his guests to greet him.
“Mister Schnee,” James greeted, giving a slight bow of his head, “thank you for the invitation.”
“Thank you for taking the time to attend my daughter’s celebration!”
The man guffawed and clapped James on his shoulder. The general forced himself to keep smiling.
“To be honest, I’d thought your eldest would have grown out of birthday parties by now,” James remarked, his hands clasped in front of him. “She’s rather mature for a girl her age.”
Jacque huffed and fixed his collar.
“Between us, I’d hope so too,” he confessed, his jovial expression turning sour for a split-second, “but Willow insisted as well. Girls will be girls, no?”
“I suppose.” James glanced around in search of the matriarch and the heiress but found no sign of them. “Where is she, may I ask? Winter, I mean.”
“The courtyard. The main festivities are being held there at the moment.” The Schnee patriarch gestured with his glass towards the entrance leading to the aforementioned area. “I’m sure you remember the way?”
“More or less,” James admitted, slipping his hands into his pockets. That was when he remembered the present he’d purchased and pulled it out. “Ah, my apologies, where are all the presents being held?”
He showed off the wrapped box and Jacque tilted his head in the direction of a room nearby.
“Just through the door there.”
After depositing his gift, placing it atop a veritable mountain of presents the many families of Atlas’ upper crust had brought, James made his way outside.
It was cool out, but not so terrible that he shivered or his teeth clattered. Many people occupied the courtyard, enjoying the fresh air and the rows of fine cuisine set up beneath a tent.
It took him no time at all to discern the Schnees from the gaudy rabble, finding a crowd gathered around a spectacle of radiant glyphs.
Striding across the courtyard, James weaved his way through the crowd to the forefront and found a twelve-year-old Winter Schnee showing off for her audience.
Holding ice dust in one hand, Winter summoned a glyph in her right hand and held it up, letting it blow out a flurry of snowflakes. She sprayed the air around her, prompting the socialites to laugh and clap with glee. To wow them further, the prodigy summoned another glyph and lifted it into the air.
Seconds later, a very light sprinkle in a very concentrated zone rained on the heiress when she traded her ice dust for water dust, letting her replace the glyph that was spraying snow with a simple glyph shield, wielding it like an umbrella to stave off the self-made rain.
Her audience cheered for her as she smirked smugly beneath the praise of her guests.
Despite his misgivings for the Schnees, James had to admit that Winter was a prodigy. As long as he’d known her, she was a smart and intuitive child. She took after her father’s shrewdness, making use of her semblance and intellect to build herself a metaphorical stage to grandstand off of.
“What a wonderful show!” Willow Schnee appeared from the crowd clapping jubilantly.
Beside the Schnee matriarch, her five-year-old daughter and two-year-old son clapped as well, though the latter one seemed lost as to why they were clapping. Not too long after, the show ended and the crowd dispersed to chatter amongst themselves.
When he was finally able to, James made his way through the throngs of the crowd to greet the hosts.
“Good evening, Willow.” James bowed his head respectfully before meeting the woman’s eyes.
She gave him a smile and tipped her head too, her hands too preoccupied with holding her children's hands.
“Hello, General Ironwood,” she said with a bright smile, “thank you for coming. I apologize if we’re disrupting your schedule today.”
James shook his head and laughed. “No, no, it’s perfectly fine. I’m glad I could attend.”
Looking over, he spotted Winter staring at him with a scrupulous look, definitely studying him. Turning to face her, he met her icy blue eyes and the birthday girl perked up, composing herself in an instant.
“Greetings, general,” Winter said, bowing her head, “it’s an honor to have you at my birthday celebration.”
His lips tugged up into a smile and James gave a light laugh. “It’s an honor to be here, Miss Schnee. I thank you all for the invitation.”
“Did you bring a present?”
James blinked and glanced over to the five-year-old beside Willow.
“You need to bring a present for Winter,” the middle daughter stated.
“Weiss,” Willow tutted, squeezing the girl's hand a bit, “don’t be rude.”
He waved a hand dismissively and laughed fully.
“That’s fine,” he said before bending down to the girl’s eye level. “I did bring a present for your big sister. So don’t worry.”
In the corner of his vision, he glimpsed Winter turning beet red, clearly embarrassed by her sibling. To save her from further embarrassment, the general stood up and looked around.
“Well, I’ll be off to mingle then,” he remarked, crossing his arms. “Feel free to hunt me down when it's time for cake.”
Willow guffawed while Winter huffed in amusement. Meanwhile, Weiss and her little brother—’Whitley’, if James remembered correctly—glanced between them all in confusion.
The evening passed slowly, much to James’ disappointment. He tried to occupy himself with idle conversation but found all his dialogue with the other guests sprinkled with gossip and poorly made jokes on the topics of faunus rights, Atlas-Mantle classism, and the other kingdoms. The only person he managed to make any neutral but charged small talk with was his rival on the Atlesian Council.
“Councilman Sleet,” James called, spotting the man standing by the large fountain at the end of the courtyard.
The older man looked over with a stern countenance that cooled into a… less stern one.
“General Ironwood,” he greeted with a solemn face. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I could say the same,” James remarked, gesturing with his glass. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Nor did I,” Sleet sighed before sipping from his cup. “But public appearances are public appearances, and it’d do me no good to be the odd one out on the council.”
The general sighed as he came to stand beside his colleague.
“Unfortunately, I fear that you already are,” he remarked wryly.
Just as old money ruled Atlas, so did it rule a good portion of the Atlesian Council. Five seats controlled the laws of the floating kingdom, three of those were more interested in funneling money into their personal accounts and interests. Only James had a real interest in defending their borders and only Sleet had an interest in improving the conditions at home. Of course, neither of them could see eye to eye most of the time, only ever allying when they shared a common foe.
Tonight, that common foe was Atlas’ bourgeois, the high society that advocated for such atavistic beliefs such as racial purity and class divides.
“Ah, the Marigolds,” Sleet remarked, eyeing the family moving over to greet Willow Schnee and her children.
Sensing the derisive tone in his voice, James glanced over at his companion. “What have they gotten up to this time?”
Sleet huffed and sipped from his glass again.
“The same old self-serving drivel. They want more concessions on their business, and fewer restrictions and regulations. It’s all flowery words covering up the fact that they want exclusive contracts. Licensing. A virtual monopoly.”
“Let me guess, it would mean isolating Mantle's commerce,” James concluded.
Sleet nodded with a scowl. However, after a moment, he turned to look at James.
“Speaking of business ethics, I hear the Phyrites are continuing to plead for release,” the councilman remarked. “It was rather uncharacteristic of you to care about the small people, James.”
The general narrowed his eyes and shot him a sharp look.
“I ensure the defense of our kingdom, Sleet,” he stated firmly. “Caring about the little people is my job.”
The man gave a dubious look but didn’t antagonize him further and instead sipped from his glass.
“Regardless, I didn’t think the military was interested in one hotel.”
James nodded along before he gave a sigh, a bit of disappointment seeping into his voice as he replied.
“Admittedly, it wasn’t on our radar until an associate of mine discovered the little girl they were using as free labor.” His hand clenched around the glass in his hand, the material straining against his mechanical prosthetic. “I’m glad we resolved the situation.”
“As am I,” Sleet agreed.
They went back and forth for a little longer, going over the political landscape and the coming obstacles they’d need to face. They also traded barbs on each other’s place in the bureaucratic order. Thankfully, no one sought them out and they were left alone until several servants came around announcing it was time for the birthday cake to be cut.
Everyone was gathered in the dining hall, droves of folks from the upper walks of life standing shoulder-to-shoulder to watch the Schnees mark the climax of the celebrations.
James himself stood with Sleet close to the hosts, granted a nice view of Winter blowing out the candles.
A cheer went out over the crowd and James sighed, feeling his soul leave him as he endured the festivities. Truly, he just wanted to go home and lie down, perhaps even get some work done to let his mind exercise.
“What did you wish for, honey?”
“I believe it’s supposed to be a secret, isn’t it, mother?”
James watched Winter smirk at her family as Willow squeezed her daughter’s shoulders, giving puppy dog eyes at her.
“Maybe, but I am your mother,” the matriarch whined with a loving smile. “I’m sure you can tell me.”
Winter held her smirk, acting as posh and pompous as her family was. Although, her father didn’t seem very entertained, an impatient frown crossing his face before he put on a smile.
“Come now, Winter, we’re Schnees!” Jacque declared in front of the audience with an arrogant smile. “There’s no need to follow the rules!”
Both James and Sleet hid their frowns as the people laughed; or at least feigned laughter while they hid their jealousy.
Seated at the head of the table, Winter’s smirk fell and she squirmed awkwardly. A few seconds passed as she debated on whether she should reveal her wish. Ultimately, she looked up at her mother with a hesitant smile.
“I wished I could become a great huntress.”
Jacque’s smile fell immediately as did a few others in the room. Those that remained grew wider and then those lips parted open to let laughter out.
“She wants to be a huntress,” someone guffawed. “How adorable!”
James frowned as he glanced about the partygoers.
He cast a forlorn look at the twelve-year-old sitting in front of her cake, a mixture of shame and anger playing out across her face.
As heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, there were certain responsibilities that Winter was meant to uphold. She had expectations to meet and exceed, such as learning the family trade in and out. And she was also expected to discard such childish dreams that might hinder her from taking on the mantle her father would one day give her.
And yet, despite everything her father said to her, all the things that her tutors lectured her on, she could not let go of that dream of adventure instilled within her.
Winter didn’t know when this dream was born. Maybe it had come from the stories her mother had told her before bed. Maybe it came from the personal accounts of her grandfather, written and stored within the Schnee Manor’s library. Or maybe it was from when she dug deeper into the accounts of huntsmen and huntresses online, exploring the stories of the defenders of mankind.
Whatever the case was, she had begun to imagine herself as a dashing champion of Atlas. Wielding steel and glyphs, she would protect her home and her people.
The dream was intimately more colorful and exciting than sitting behind a desk for the rest of her life.
Today, she had stupidly believed that her father would understand the allure of that lifestyle. She had concocted some vain hope that he would entertain the thought with her, but he had not.
It wasn’t just his reaction that hurt though, it was the entire party. The guests guffawed and joked about her dream, dismissing it as childhood wonder and nothing more.
Hours later after her presents had been opened and as the party waned down, Winter found herself being scolded by her father.
“I know you’re still just a child, Winter, but let’s keep our overactive imaginations to ourselves from now on, alright?”
Her father stood before her, tall and intimidating with his stature rigid and the light from the window behind his desk casting his shadow over her.
They stood in his study, her father having dragged her away from the party for a brief conversation. Although a conversation required two parties to share thoughts, this was just an admonishment and nothing more.
“Yes, father,” Winter spoke obediently.
Her father smiled. “Very good, Winter. Now, come along, we need to say our farewells to our guests–”
He was cut off when the door to the study opened and her mother stepped inside.
“Jacque? Winter?” Her mother’s eyes darted between them. “What’s going on in here?”
She stepped inside, her brow knit and eyes narrowed.
“Mother,” Winter breathed, walking over to her.
“Nothing, honey,” her father said, “I was just reminding Winter about proper manners. Can’t have her going around speaking her mind like that again, you know? The other houses might make us the butt end of their jokes.”
Winter balled her hands into fists but said nothing. Her mother, however, widened her eyes and clenched her jaw.
“Jacque!”
The matriarch of the Schnee household strode up to him, the click of her heels echoing off the study’s walls. Winter watched her glance over her shoulder at her before she hissed in a hushed voice. Despite that, however, Winter caught most of her mother’s words.
“…shouldn’t speak… harshly of her dream.”
Her father rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Willow, please.”
“Don’t ‘Willow, please’ me!” she snapped. “That’s your daughter, she needs you to encourage her, not dismiss her.”
“Encourage her dream of leaving the house and abandoning her duties?”
“Encourage her dream of growing up to be a strong woman,” her mother corrected.
Winter rubbed her foot into the floor, not knowing what else to do except shuffle in place awkwardly while her parents argued.
Thankfully, the tension in the air was pierced by a knock on the door.
“Who could that be?” her father remarked, hurrying past her mother and her to open the door. “James?”
Winter perked up as the general waved into the room with a smile.
“My apologies, but I’ll be taking my leave now,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “Once again, I thank you for the invitation and I do hope to come for the next.”
Her father laughed and clapped the man’s shoulder.
“Anything for a dear family friend!”
Winter watched the general swallow, his friendly countenance revealing itself to be a mask for the briefest moment. Beneath the mask, he showed a disapproving frown that he quickly hid when her father opened his eyes again.
“Yes,” the general said as he turned to leave.
He stopped however when their eyes met, curiosity showing in his indigo orbs. Winter presented herself as formally as she could before the esteemed general of Atlas’ military and the headmaster of its academy, but for whatever reason his curiosity seemed to change to pity.
“You know, Jacque?” the general said then, turning back around to face him. “I don’t mean to interject on family affairs, but I will say that it was brave of Winter to speak about being a huntress.”
Her father’s smile fell and Winter stiffened up. She almost jumped when she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder.
Looking up, she spotted her mother next to her, gently urging her forward.
Their family gathered at the doorway to the study, standing before General Ironwood who had a hand stroking his jaw.
“Please, general, you flatter her,” her father spoke dismissively.
“Perhaps,” the general laughed. “Winter is a born prodigy, that much is certain. We’d be remiss to not have her at the academy, but I understand she has responsibilities at home.” He then clasped his hands behind his back and tipped his head back, putting on a solemn face as he looked up and thought. “That being said, however, with insurrectionists and radicals growing bolder these days, having her learn to protect herself could benefit her greatly.”
Winter blinked at him, surprised at the man’s bluntness. Usually, no one dared to speak so directly with her father, especially on a subject that he disagreed with.
That being said, she felt a sense of… elation within her. Was the general really trying to support her right now?
“I suppose you have a point, James.”
Winter’s eyes widened and she glanced up at her father, who stroked his chin with a hesitant frown.
“But still–”
“I know plenty of huntsmen and huntresses who’ve retired but are still willing to privately tutor students on self-defense.” General Ironwood nonchalantly combed fingers through his hair. “Why, I believe the Marigolds have a huntsman teaching their son right now, and not just self-defense either. History. Literature. Foreign policy. Or am I mistaken? Regardless, being ready for any situation is certainly the best strategy anyone could use, wouldn’t you say, Jacque?”
Her father pressed his lips together tightly, seemingly still not convinced. But there were fewer wrinkles on his forehead and the tension in his jaw seemed to loosen slightly.
“Father would certainly be proud,” her mother remarked, rubbing Winter’s shoulders. “The line of Schnee continuing again.”
“Indeed,” her father said, a smile growing on his lips. “The Schnee heiress continuing the line of Schnee! Ha! Invoking the image of dear Old Nick, brilliant!”
Her mother visibly cringed at her father’s guffaw, or perhaps it was something else that Winter didn’t want to place. Either way, he seemed to celebrate the idea of her learning self-defense; from a real huntsmen no less.
Winter breathed in and almost wanted to pinch herself to see if this was all a dream. Her world was flipped on its head and her heart had plummeted into the pit of her stomach not but an hour ago. Now, it was flipped once more, her heart beating rapidly with excitement and anticipation.
“How thoughtful of you, James!” her father cheered, grabbing the general’s hand and shaking it profusely. “You wouldn’t be willing to send some recommendations to my desk, would you?”
“Of course,” the general laughed. “I know a few in-kingdom and some out. I’ll be sure to send you their resumes when I get back to the academy.”
“Of course! Of course!” Her father gave a beaming smile. “You have a wonderful night, my friend.”
“Yes, please,” her mother said, giving a friendly smile and a nod of her head. “Thank you for coming over tonight, James. We appreciate it.”
The general bowed slightly out of respect and waved his hand goodbye. “It was my pleasure, Willow. Jacque. Winter. You all have a wonderful night.”
He departed then, a servant showing him the way out. Although, as he went down the hall, Winter swore he glanced over his shoulder and winked at her.
Glynda hadn’t been lying when she promised not to pull any punches in her training regimen. Since they’d started, Cinder had been forced to run laps around Beacon, push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups three times a day every day, do yoga and meditation with her guardian, and keep up with her online courses on top of all of that. Every night she went to bed numb and every morning she woke up sore. But she kept at it.
Her dream of becoming a huntress, of attaining that power, compelled her to keep going. Admittedly, however, it was a bumpy road ahead.
Cinder had a short fuse. She knew that even before her training began, but it became more evident every day she trained with Glynda. She got impatient waiting to see results and she got frustrated when there was a lack thereof. She was too ambitious for her own good, Glynda had told her straight to her face one day, knocking her down a peg.
Of course, Cinder had argued and claimed she knew her limits. And today, of course, she had gotten so frustrated during their training session that she’d accidentally activated her semblance while clawing at her hair.
The twelve-year-old quietly whined while she stared into the mirror, studying her recently cut hair.
An hour ago, she’d gotten to the hair salon with her hair frayed and burnt patches missing. She’d left with her hair cut to a short, middling style. Needless to say, her face had been flushed the entire trip back to Beacon and the trek back to their apartment. Her guardian, however, had snickered through the whole journey–
“Cinder?”
Speaking of her guardian and teacher, Glynda appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, peering in with a curious look.
“Yeah?” Cinder responded.
Glynda gave her a once-over and then grew an amused smile. “Is it bothering you still?”
Cinder frowned spitefully. “Yes.”
Her guardian snickered once again as she stepped inside. “Well, hopefully, this will cheer you up.”
She walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. Then, she pointed her chin out the door.
Cinder furrowed her brow and followed her direction. “What are you talking about?”
Glynda’s smile grew and a playful glint showed in her emerald eyes. She silently pointed her chin out the door again and she moved across to her other shoulder.
“Come along and see.”
Cinder squinted at her in suspicion and tried to surmise what was going on. Was it a special dinner? Did she want to raise her spirits after today’s incident? Maybe she wanted to show her something. Or maybe she had a new exercise for her? Ugh, so many possibilities.
“Fine,” she grumbled, walking past Glynda.
Her guardian hummed and walked behind her. But just as she was about to leave, a pair of hands slipped over her eyes.
“Hey!” Cinder yelped, trying to duck down.
“It’s a surprise,” Glynda said, keeping her hands level with her eyes. “Just keep going, it’ll be alright.”
Cinder grumbled but begrudgingly obeyed, carefully leaving the bathroom blind. She made steady progress down the hall, her guardian leading her toward the living room.
“What’s the surprise?”
“Something I’ve been planning for a while now.”
“Am I getting a weapon?” Cinder inquired, a bit of hope in her voice.
Glynda huffed and tutted, “Don’t get any bright ideas now, you’ll get yours when everyone else does in combat school.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed, but then stopped when she heard feet shuffling on wood paneling. The sound came from ahead, not behind. There was also some quiet tapping and the scent of something savory. Cooked meat? Steak?
“Did you cook something?” she asked. “Or grab something from the cafeteria?”
Glynda hummed. “What do you smell?”
“…Cooked meat. A steak?” She wet her lips, feeling her mouth watering. “Or, something else… Wait.” She listened to more feet shuffling and a quiet chuckle across the room. “Are we not alone?”
Glynda gave a quiet laugh and let her hands fall away, revealing the room to her. “You’re getting better at sensing your surroundings.”
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lighting, but a second later she was able to take in the sight of colorful balloons tied to the furniture, a tablecloth spread over their dining table, and a handful of her guardian’s colleagues standing around the room. A cooked meal topped the table, but further across the room at the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen she saw a see-through box with a cake in it.
“Surprise!” Port boomed, throwing his arms out wide.
Next to him, Dr. Oobleck winced but smiled. Meanwhile, Professor Ozpin held up a red cup and offered her a smile.
Amber eyes blinked in abject shock, then she looked back at her guardian. Immediately, a shower of confetti rained on her head and she sputtered in surprise. Her guardian laughed softly while rubbing her fingers, letting the last few slips of colorful paper rain down.
“Hey!” Cinder cried, pawing at her further ruined hair. “What’s going on?”
She shuffled forward, taking in the sight of the decorated apartment. After a second of gawking, she started picking the confetti out of her hair and held a few of the pieces in her hands. Soon, her attention was also drawn to a small pile of wrapped boxes on a side table by the sofa.
Cinder directed her quizzical gaze up at Glynda, who graced her with an affectionate smile. Then, she rested her hand on her shoulder again and she turned her around so they were facing.
“Do you remember what today is?” she asked, tilting her head and giving her an expectant look.
“N-No?” Cinder wracked her brain, searching for an important date but came up with nothing. “Is it… a holiday?”
Glynda knelt down to her height and took a loose lock of raven black hair, tucking it behind her ear.
“One year ago today, I took a little girl who needed love in her life home with me.” A wistful smile crossed her painted lips as she cupped the side of her cheek with a warm hand. “And a couple of months ago, I asked that girl if she knew when she was born. She didn’t know, so we decided that today was a pretty good day to celebrate.”
Amber eyes grew as large as dinner plates in astonishment, and then they glistened as a flood of emotions overwhelmed the thirteen-year-old.
They’d planned a whole birthday party for her.
She stood stunned for a long time, her body shaking as she tried and failed to contain all the things roiling inside of her. She wasn’t sure how to react. A big part of her wanted to brush it all aside and keep up her loner act, to continue wearing her aloof mask so she wouldn’t be vulnerable. A bigger part of her, however, wanted to open up and show them just what their kindness had done to her.
Ultimately, she managed not to break down into a sobbing mess. However, her face burned red bashfully while she tucked her head between her shoulders. She sniffled and a few tears fell down her face, but she wiped those away before ultimately letting a joyful smile slowly grow across her face.
All the while, Glynda continued to give her an affectionate look as she led her into the living room so they could begin the celebration.
Apparently, dinner was all thanks to Port. He’d flexed his cooking skills and served up a meal of grilled, seasoned steak, a pot of broth, and a few other dishes. On top of that was a chocolate cake and a tub of ice cream Glynda had bought in Vale.
Needless to say, this was the best night of her life, and not too long after she opened her presents.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding open a small box with a strip of black cloth in it.
Ozpin strode up beside her with a smile. “A choker.”
“Sir!” Glynda hissed indignantly to him. “You got her a choker?”
Cinder glanced between them with a quizzical look, then picked the cloth up, finding a lock on one end.
“I understand it’s quite popular among adolescents right now?” the headmaster remarked, stroking his jaw.
Her guardian’s face reddened while Dr. Oobleck chuckled.
“People wear it around their neck,” he elaborated, rubbing a hand across his throat. “They consider it popular and fashionable, although it has a rather rebellious connotation to it.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not keen on Ozpin gifting it to you!” Glynda piped up, glaring daggers at the headmaster who took a long sip from his cup of soda.
After he’d washed down his throat, the silver-haired man shrugged his shoulders.
“I merely thought it’d be a nice gift and a choice for Cinder. I ensured that it was a nice length and width if you’d like to cover your scar.”
His eyes lingered on her neck and Cinder reached out to touch the scarred skin. She felt it for a moment, feeling the size of the wound she’d carry for life. Then, she looked at the choker, brought it up to her neck, and felt the cloth tickle her skin as she measured its size for herself.
It felt… weird to put something around her neck again. She hadn’t let anyone or anything touch her there since she’d escaped the Glass Unicorn.
For a brief second, she felt the phantom of her opulent shock collar constricting her neck and her chest tightened. However, the feeling gradually disappeared.
Mustering her courage, Cinder tried to lock the choker, fiddling with the ends of it on her nape.
A few seconds later, however, she felt calloused fingers touching hers and she felt Glynda’s breath on her head.
“Let me help you,” her guardian spoke, taking the choker and hooking it in place.
A moment later, Cinder was tenderly touching the cloth around her neck. It was a strange feeling, and she didn’t know how to feel about it entirely. There was a little bundle of anxiety buzzing in the pit of her stomach, but it was tolerable. Maybe she’d keep it on for a little bit.
Looking up, she offered Ozpin a bashful smile in exchange for the gift. He nodded at her with thanks, then quickly looked away when he saw Glynda’s glare still leveled at him.
Turning her gaze up at her guardian, she found the woman still wearing an apprehensive look. However, she didn’t move to have her take it off.
After that bit of bickering, Cinder opened up Professor Port’s and Dr. Oobleck’s gift, finding a… stack of lien. She held up the gift and riffled through it, counting out around a hundred lien total.
“Admittedly, we had issues about choosing a gift,” Dr. Oobleck stated.
“But you can never go wrong with lien!” Port declared right after with a finger held up.
Cinder’s mouth tugged into a smile and she shrugged.
Finally, saving the best for last, she opened Glynda’s gift, a big box wrapped up in shimmering, red and gold paper with a bow tied up. She undid the ribbon as best she could and tried not to rip the paper, giving it all the respect it deserved. Eventually, however, she was forced to tear some pieces off to reveal the box inside.
It was a purchase from a department store, the logo printed on the top of the box. Opening it up, she found a collection of clothes. Shirts, shorts, skirts, sweaters, things that were comfortable and things that were fashionable.
A hand touched her shoulder while she was going through it all and she looked at Glynda, who was smiling.
“Since you’ll be starting at combat school next year, I thought you’d like to fill your closet a bit,” she explained. “That and we don’t go shopping nearly enough, do we?”
Suddenly, her hands were in her ruined hair and Cinder was pawing at it to stop her guardian. A laugh escaped Glynda and Cinder whined before she started laughing too.
A moment later, she was folding the clothes back into the box when she noticed a final present sitting on the table.
“Who’s this present from?” Cinder asked, picking it up.
There was weight to it and something shifted inside. Opening it up, she found a card inside signed by one James Ironwood.
“General Ironwood?” Cinder questioned, looking up at Glynda.
A fond smile crossed her guardian’s face and she nodded. “I asked James if he wanted to give you anything. He was there that night.”
Cinder pressed her lips into a thin line as she recalled memories of that man. He was tall and stern, like a male counterpart to her guardian but more straight-laced and stone-faced. Her opinion of him was… a little lower than okay, given his decision to follow the law then give her a chance. But, Glynda liked him, so….
She sighed and pulled out the paper stuffing, revealing the general’s gift: a thick book.
“Uh….” Amber eyes darted up at Glynda, whose jaw dropped to the ground.
“Oh, good heavens,” Glynda whined, pinching her brow as frustration crossed her face. “He did not….”
Cinder arched an eyebrow as Ozpin leaned over her to peer down at her new book.
“‘The Rubrum Primer,’” he remarked with slight amusement in his voice. “It would seem James is eager for you to become a huntress as well, Cinder.”
She gave him a quizzical look, then shot the same look at Glynda. Her guardian was too busy wallowing in embarrassment to answer her, so she looked over at Dr. Oobleck and Port.
“Ah, the ‘Rubrum Primer’ is a codex of military treatises, doctrines, and guidelines,” Oobleck elaborated, waving around a finger as he did. “It was written by Atlas Academy’s first headmaster, right after the Great War!”
Port cleared his throat, stealing Cinder’s attention. “In other words, consider it the textbook guide on becoming a huntress!”
Amber eyes blinked at them, then they cast a hesitant look at the book in her hands. “Huh.”
“I’m not sure if I should thank him or scold him.” Her guardian hissed under her breath. “In any case, I suppose you’ll need it in the future if you want to attend a combat school. It’ll save us money at the very least.”
The night continued on for a little bit longer, everyone chattering about what the next day would bring. They went on about Cinder’s presents and then about her future career.
All in all, the future seemed brighter.