Whiskey & Tears

After leaving the bar, and a pleasant conversation with Ruby, Weiss returns home to chaos. The second she closes the door behind her, she can hear yelling – coming from the kitchen, it sounds like.  The sound carries through the house, bouncing off the walls. Weiss can make out her father’s voice, alongside her mother’s but can’t tell what is being said.

There – the sound of glass or ceramic breaking. The shouting has grown louder now, mixed with distinctly female sobs. Someone is throwing objects then, most likely her father, Weiss thinks. She starts towards the commotion – intent on putting a stop to it.

The heiress is halfway across the foyer when a hand lightly grabs her arm. She stops and spins around to glare at Klein, the family butler.

“I wouldn’t go in there right now if I were you, Miss Schnee.” He warns. She crosses her arms, pouting ever so like a child.

“Why not?” She demands.

“Your father was downright furious earlier – I’d never seen him this mad, and that says quite a bit. I fear for your safety if you go in there.” Klein elaborates. Weiss’s expression shifts to concern. Though she and her mother may have their issues – she wouldn’t wish her father’s rage on anyone.

“Isn’t there something we can do? I mean, can’t we call the police?” Weiss asks.

“Miss Schnee, your father’s influence, and wealth are powerful weapons. The police would turn a blind eye.” The butler admits.

Weiss wants to throw something, as she paces in anger. She grits her teeth, and opens her to remind Klein exactly who his employer is, when-

“Are you causing a ruckus, dear sister? Again?”

The heiress turns to the staircase, to see her younger brother, Whitley smirking at her as he leans on the banister. Her furious gaze narrows, her heels click warningly on the tiles as she marches over to him.

“You.” She hisses. “Did you have something to do with this?” She demands, gesturing towards the kitchen. Weiss jabs a finger at his chest, which he calmly moves.

“No, I did not.” He answers. The boy keeps his bored façade but Weiss can see the anger boiling underneath the surface. A quick glance down shows her that he’s clenching his fists. Hmph, who’s calm and collected now? Weiss thinks triumphantly. She opens her mouth to taunt him further, but he beats her to it.

“As a matter of fact, they were discussing you, when father lost his temper,” Whitely states, smugly. Weiss stops at that. Her? What about her? Was he mad about her schooling? D-did he learn she was a lesbian? Oh god – whatever happens to her mother is her fault!

Weiss felt sick to her stomach.

Klein chose to come between the bickering siblings at this point.

“It’s late. You both should try and get some rest.” He suggested, glancing between them. Whitley turned and waltzed back up the stairs. Weiss nodded.

“You’re probably right, Klein.” She admitted, removing her heels. Weiss liked the feeling of the cool tile on her bare feet, and it was nice to give her sore feet a break from the shoes. The heiress started up the staircase before glancing backward at the butler.

“And Klein? Just- make sure mother is okay. Please?” She asked. The man gave a gentle smile and nodded.

Weiss turned and continued up the steps. Sleep sounded like a nice escape.

****

Weiss tossed and turned in her sleep, overtaken by a nightmare.

“Hah…hah...” Weiss huffed, struggling to pull in air.She glanced behind her as she ran through a wood, dark and twisting, the moon overhead her only light in the inky blackness of night. The branches seemed to reach for her as growls reverberated through the forest. Through the branches, red eyes watched her.

Through the woods, the woman ran, snow crunching under her boots. She jumped, ducked and dodged, weaving a path. Her white hair kept getting snagged by branches, but she didn’t have time to free it. She had to keep running – the growls grew closer.

Weiss looked back again, and in the process went crashing to the soil as she tripped over a tree root, sending her sprawling into a clearing. She hit the ground hard - just barely having time to throw her hands out to catch herself when she landed. Grunting, she attempted to get back up – moaning in pain as she did, her ankle twisted at an unnatural angle. The growls were so close now she could hear the creatures thumping as they walked, and the snapping of jaws.

She scrambled backward, reaching for the sword on her belt – only for it to disappear into thin air.

“No no no no!” She panicked. Huge, hulking, black creatures stumbled out of the woods, their red eyes glinting under the moon.

Weiss raised an arm over her eyes, bracing for the inevitable pain. But none came. Weiss lowered her arm cautiously, to see a female figure in a red cape, wielding a scythe slicing the apart the creatures.

The girl moved quickly and precise – never missing her target. It was mesmerizing to watch. When all the creatures had been slain, the woman stood surrounded by a circle of limbs. She looked like some type of grim reaper, Weiss thought.

She folded the odd scythe and made her way back over to Weiss, kneeling down. She tilted her head forward, offering to let the heiress remove her hood.

Weiss reached a hand out, fingering the fabric when –

The scene shifted.

This time, Weiss was leaning up against a stone tower of some type. It was still night, however, and the tower was in a poor state – wreckage lay around her.

A few feet away, a woman in a red dress, with dark hair that fell over her shoulder had a bow in her hand. She had notched an arrow and was aiming it at a different woman in a Spartan-like outfit, with a red ponytail who was kneeling.

Weiss felt a strange… connection with the redhead. She felt familiar almost. She felt like a friend. Though she still couldn’t move, Weiss found herself reaching out towards the woman with a bow.

“S-stop!” She yelled, fruitlessly. They couldn’t hear her it seemed – they didn’t even acknowledge her. The woman released the arrow, sending it careening straight into the redhead’s chest. Her green eyes widened in a mixture of shock and pain.

“NO!” Weiss called out. The woman walked over, laying a hand on the woman’s cheek. The woman disintegrated under her touch – her ashes carried off by the wind. Weiss was horrified.

The dream changed again.

This time a blonde – Yang? Was getting her arm sliced off by a man in a mask.

The dream was changing faster now, scenes flashing by. A man turning into a bird. A woman abandoning her child. Herself singing on a stage somewhere-

“Ahh!” Weiss woke with a scream, shooting up in her bed. The door to her room flung open, Klein rushing in.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, glancing around. Weiss sighed.

“Nothing Klein. Just a nightmare is all.” She explained. He furrowed his brows.

“Why are you crying, my little snowflake?” Klein questioned with concern. Weiss wiped her cheek with a finger, surprised when it came back wet. She let out a light chuckle.

“It must have been intense is all. It’s strange I- I don’t remember it.” Weiss said, confused. Klein offered to brew her some coffee. She accepted. The butler paused in the door, looking over his shoulder at Weiss.

“Oh – and your mother requested your presence in her room. She said it was important.”

The man raced off before Weiss could ask him what it was about. Weiss glanced down at her nightgown and slippers, debating getting dressed. In the end, the heiress decided not to as she navigated the halls of the mansion. It had been so long since she’d been to her mother’s room, she barely remembered the way.

Weiss carefully knocked on the ornate wooden door.

“Come in.” Her mother called. Weiss did, closing the door behind her. The woman was sitting at her vanity, nursing a black eye with an ice pack. Her silver-white hair was in a plait down her back as opposed to her usual up-do. A sign she was recently woken up. She waved Weiss over quickly and the young woman scampered over.

“Mother-“ Weiss began, as she saw the full extent of the damage her father has wrought. There were scabbed-over scratches and bruises on the woman’s wrists every color of the rainbow. A wound on her mother’s side had reopened and blood was leaking through the nightgown.

The woman held up a hand, stopping her daughter. “Weiss, we don’t have much time – your father is in a meeting right now but we must hurry.”  Willow Schnee interrupted, a fiery gaze meeting Weiss’.  The young heiress hadn’t seen so much emotion in her mother’s eyes in years. She nodded. Weiss knew better than to interrupt her mother.

Her mother reached into a silver jewelry box and pulled out a silver chain, at the end of which dangled a metal rapier. She grabbed Weiss’ hand and pressed the necklace into it.

“This was my mother’s. She gave it to me one day, the day that I left home and said to me: “Willow, this is Myrtenaster. As long as you have it with you, nothing can harm you. Myrtenaster will give you strength.” She told me that someday I might pass it on to my own daughters as they leave and eventually find their own path.” Willow explained. When she opened her mouth again, she looked into Weiss’ eyes, deadly serious.

“I want you to leave, Weiss. Now. Leave and don’t ever come back.” She urged. Weiss grew worried. Why- why was her mother saying these things? What happened while she slept?

Her mother sighed, as though sensing Weiss’ thoughts. “Your father and I were talking about you last night. I don’t know how – but he found out that you were at a gay bar. He lost his senses. I tried to talk him down but…” The woman trailed off. Weiss knew what came next. The young heiress felt the pool of dread in her stomach, grow.

“Weiss… even I didn’t think he’d go this far but, if this is what that man did to me, then I don’t want to give him a chance to lay a hand on you, snowflake.” Willow spoke, brushing a stray hair from Weiss’ face with a gentle smile.

It reminded Weiss of how her mother used to come into her room when she was a child and sing her a lullaby with the same expression.

“But, what about you? Mother, you can’t expect me to just leave you here with him!” Weiss protested. Willow’s smile turned somber.

“Sweetheart… if you really want to help me, then leave. Go. Make something of yourself. I’ve been here for years, darling. I can deal with your father.” She laid a hand on her daughter’s cheek. “Klein has packed your belongings. You can stay with Winter, on the other side of town. Your father won’t come looking for you – it would draw too much bad press.” Willow continued, handing Weiss a piece of paper with an address on it. There was a knock on the door, as their butler Klein poked his head in.

“Miss, I have Weiss’ belongings packed.” He announced. Weiss’ mother nodded.

“Thank you, Klein. Just leave them there please; she won’t be but a moment.” She responded. The butler closed the door again, and Willow returned her attention to her daughter.

“I love you, sweetheart.” She reminded one last time, pecking Weiss on the forehead. The young woman nodded.

“I love you too, mother,” Weiss responded, before making her way out of her mother’s room. Weiss stopped by her own quarters one last time, to get changed. It wouldn’t do to show up at her sister’s place barefoot and in a nightgown, after all.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Weiss stepped out onto the dirty, city sidewalks, a duffel bag in each hand. She didn’t bother turning to face her home for one final time.  Instead, she walked down by where the cars raced, and set one bag down, to let out a shrill whistle.

“Hey – taxi!”