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runephoenix6769 · 5 years

Text

Winter Solstice Part 7

Teenage Winter Schnee Fic.

Previous chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500653/chapters/38646758

It is often said that in the world of Remnant, the cruellest and hardest place is Vacuo and only the strong survive. Obviously, none of them have ever visited the Schnee Estate”.

Part 7

In the cavernous dining room, dominated by a long cherry wood dining table, Winter and her siblings stood obediently and silent by their respective seats, waiting for their parents to arrive. Within the gargantuan intricately carved fireplace, the fire crackled. Even with its large size it failed to heat the vast space.

Light from mixture of dust infused candles and the fireplace twinkled off the silverware and place settings dotted along the surface of the luxurious, gleaming wood, casting the far corners in gloom. At intervals, serving staff stood to attention, barely visible in depths of the shadows where the mood lighting could not reach, helped by their carefully chosen blue and grey uniforms created specifically to conceal them from their Master’s eyes.

Winter’s gaze landed on the hideous artwork her Father had chosen to replace what had once been a beautiful oil painting of the Schnee family, depicting her grandfather, mother, grandmother and uncle in their younger days.

The doors on the left suddenly opened allowing in a bright shaft of light that caused the silverware to glitter and wink briefly before her father entered, casting his shadow, long and looming across the table’s surface. Opposite her, Weiss stood to stiff attention and little Whitley’s hair, stark white in contrast to the dark accents of the furnishings, was just visible over the lip of the table’s edge.

Winter tried to remain focused on the garish painting. It was said to depict some great conquest during the Great War, but if you looked closely enough you could make out the slight Faunus traits of the slaughtered and the subtle likeness of their father upon the features of the victorious leader.

The sound of a wooden chair being scrapped back across the polished floorboards indicated that he had taken his place at the head of the table. Each child remained as if a statue carved from granite, knowing the reprimand that they would face if they were to break the rigorously enforced etiquette expected of their status.

Her little sister began to crinkle her nose, bobbing up and down like an Atleasian marchhare. She moved as is to scratch it, pausing when she caught Winter’s barely detectable shake of her head.

The teenager felt his critical gaze lingering before he cast it upon Weiss. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, checking his silver pocket watch.

“Where is she?”

A servant hesitantly offered,

“Mistress Willow was in the East Wing, Sir.”

Whitley began to fidget

The businessman’s moustache twitched with a sickle of dissatisfaction.

“She is aware….”

Suddenly their mother swept open the double doors behind their father, a waft of lillies proceeding her.

“Sorry, darlings.”

Dressed in a gown of whites and light blues, she swept into the room walking with a grace very few naturally possessed or could perfect. Approaching Winter, she gently touched her shoulder, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss upon the teenager’s cheek, causing her to flinch as soft lips faintly pressed against her injury. Pulling back, her mother tenderly examined her face, her grey eyes alighting on her cheek,

“Darling, what happened to your face?”

Having no wish to mar Weiss’ special day by causing an argument, Winter avoided her gaze,

“I was careless during training.”

This close, Winter witnessed the minuscule steely flicker of a glance in the direction of Jacques before coming back to rest on her. Without a hint of reproach, her mother parted,

“You must wear your mask at all times, Darling.”

Registering the loaded meaning, Winter gave a weak nod, belying the urge to seek out the comfort she so greatly wished for.

Over at the far side of the table the little boy began to fuss. Willow gave him a smile, gesturing for them to sit. Whitley, too small to make it onto the booster seat looked around, holding out his arms to his mother only for a servant to swoop in and situate the little boy. In a bid to hide her disappointment, Willow announced,

“Winter, I think that moving onto the Sabre is a marvellous idea, keeping Father’s legacy alive. Your Opa would be proud, as am I-” Winter and Weiss both took their seats sparking the various servants to quickly come to life as their mother continued, “- I believe that with this progression, you shall be in need of a new instructor.-”

A waiter began to move about the room, decanting clear crisp water into the children’s glasses,

From his vantage point, Jacques held out his whiskey tumbler,

“Yes… I “

“The necessary arrangements have been made.” Taking a sip of her water, Willow motioned for the wine to be decanted. “I think you will find him to your liking..”

“Who?” Her father growled.

Winter observed as her father fixed Willow with a glare. If her mother noticed, she ignored it as satisfied with her beverage, she waved away the servant.

“He is an old pupil of my father’s and a champion in his own right. …” She took a moderate sip of her wine.”- We were lucky to get him as it would seem that he is in high demand.” She turned her attentions to her youngest daughter. “- Weiss, sweetheart, which menu did you decide upon.”

The little girl opened her mouth as if to speak only to be cut off by her father with a steely tone,

“You know I don’t like it when I am not consulted.”

“I think in this particular for instance I am far more qualified than you.”

The servants and wait staff began to enter the room in an endless stream, arms laden with dishes from which wafted delicious smells that caused Winter’s stomach to rumble. Made from ingredients from the far flung corners of Remnant, no expense had been spared, as the opulent and beautifully crafted dishes were slowly revealed. Weiss and Whitley’s eyes sparkled at the artistic creations.

Jacques ignored the serving staff,

“Still-” Never taking his eyes off his wife, he shook out his napkin, tucking it into his shirt collar, “- I wish to be consulted.”

Willow elegantly teased her own napkin from its silver holder, demurely placing it on her lap as was correct etiquette in their circles.

“The opportunity didn’t arise.”

Taking the cue from their mother the two girls copied her whilst Whitley was helped by a member of the serving staff. Plucking fresh tomatoes still on the vine, Jacques added peevishly,

“A scroll call wouldn’t have been remiss.”

Willow gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she selected olives from a nearby dish,

“Well, you are always telling me how busy you are, and quite frankly I felt it would be of no concern to you.”

A muscle began to work in Jacques jaw and his eyebrows furrowed.

Winter steeled herself for the barrage, focusing on a particular whorl in the cherry wood.

Her father would whittle away, passing snide remarks until their mother would retreat to the sun lounge in the East Wing, but recently their embittered squabbling had begun to take a turn for the worse, frequently devolving into full blown screaming arguments.

Could they not for one day leave it at the door, for Weiss’ sake?

“Miss?” She looked up at the server in his pristine uniform and stark white gloves, that Winter could only assume served the purpose to make his jobs more difficult, waiting expectantly, “Starter?”

“What would you suggest?”

“The bisque, Miss. It comes from the finest ingredients from the seas at the southernmost tip of Vale. I believe it is Miss Weiss’ favourite.”

Looking at her sister, who vibrated, Winter gave the server a nod. She leaned back slightly as he began to ladle the thick liquid into a finebone Mistrali bowl, hating every action he took, how he used the silver tongs to select the soft white rolls, how he placed a small bowl of butter beside her.

She observed as Weiss and Whitley pointed at the rolls they wished for and waited patiently for their servers to prepare them.

Every time it made her feel as if she was an invalid. He went as if to break the roll and spread butter on it. Winter stopped him, taking the roll from the tongs,

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

Once done, the servers disappeared back into the shadows. Overwhelmingly oppressive silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of silverware against porcelain, the wood crackling in the hearth and the laborious ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner. Winter shivered against the coldness in the vast distance between her parents that no amount of heat could thaw. Her mother indicated for another glass of wine as her father finished his famed Mountain Glen whiskey.

Whitley happily humming to himself as Weiss primly placed her soup spoon to the side indicating that she had finished. Another round of servers cleared their dishes and the whole rig moral began again, as each person selected their main. Winter’s fork hovered over her grouse as she heard her mother begin,

“I went to the office today.”

Without missing a beat, Jacques’ pink tongue flicked out to catch the pale flesh of veal that threatened to tip from his fork,

“Is that so?” The meat continued on its journey around his mouth, it was as if witnessing a troughing Boartusk. “I was under the impression that you were with the other useless socialite housewives.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Willow paused to put down her silverware, “- When it was brought to my attention that you have called off the search for the missing miners.”

Her father continued to attack his meal with gusto,

“As is company policy.”

“Then change it.”

“We have adhered to our legal obligation.”

Winter resumed moving the bright pink meat around her plate in a bid to avoid catching either of her parent’s eyes. Their bickering reminding the teenager of her fencing matches.

“It has only been the minimum of days, Jacques.”

The man stabbed a piece of asparagus,

“Well within regulation.. Besides, if anybody survived, which I highly doubt, they will more than likely be frozen to death.”

With her hands palm down on the table and leaning slightly forward, Willow appealed,

“Jacques, they are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, they have loved ones.”

Jacques chewed on the green stalk,

“And they will be compensated handsomely.”

Willow rose slightly from her seat, pushing her advantage,

“They don’t want our money. They want their loved ones returned to them.. If my father was alive he wouldn’t rest until every last one of them was brought to the surface, safe or not.”

Dropping the fork onto to the plate, her father peevishly spat,

“Well he isn’t, is he?”

Using the napkin, Jacques wiped his mouth and moustache. Crumpling it in his hands he tossed it harshly onto the table. Winter waited for the tell-tale excuses, the tired old rhetoric he would always spout when he lost face and was goaded into showing his true colours.

“Mama, Father, please!” Keeping her head bowed, Winter said, “It is Weiss’ birthday.”

Before she could incur her father’s wrath the doors opened. Proudly wheeling his creation in front of him, the specially employed cake chef entered. With a huge smile, he spoke in a heavy Valish accent,

“Sir, Madam.” He bowed to Weiss, “My Lady.” Weiss beamed at the attention, “I have brought to you today, a work of art like no other.”

Carefully placing it on the table close to the birthday girl, he unveiled it with a flourish.

No attention to detail had been spared. Over a tier and a half of fondant, was a beautifully crafted replica of the Atlas National Opera Stage. A delicately created Weiss stood centre stage, each member of the audience individually crafted. 10 candles were hidden within the fondant, their flames fluttering at the cusp of the dias and above the orchestra pit giving the impression of stage lights. In places the bare velvet cake had been used to give the impression of the luxurious material that hung from the private boxes. Whitley began to enthusiastically clap in delight as the chef took great care to point out to the young girl the miniature recreations of her family in their private box.

“Mama, look!”

Getting up from her seat, Willow began to examine the birthday cake in awe. Touching her hand to the red jewels at her neck, Willow returned the chef’s smile,

“You have simply out done yourself… Thankyou”

Even her father looked slightly impressed. For a moment, in the candle light, they could be mistaken for a happy family, coming together to celebrate. Willow graciously thanked the serving staff, indicating that they could leave.

From the trolley, she retrieved small plates and a cake cutter.

“It seems almost a shame to cut it, doesn’t it?”

Weiss enthusiastically nodded.

Placing the utensils on the table and giving her youngest daughter a squeeze, she asked,

“Winter, let’s get a photograph with your scroll.”

No sooner had the last servant closed the door, Jacques picked back up the argument,

“You do not know the lengths I have gone to keep this family afloat? The hard decisions that need to be made on a daily basis. Imagine the PR disaster, dead Humans with the faunus being brought to the surface. The press would have a field day.”

“As opposed to leaving them in an icy grave?”

Weiss face broke with a look of disappointment as their parents resumed their bickering. Fidgeting in her chair, the young girl was barely able to conceal her eagerness to blow out the candles before the dripping wax threatened to melt the carefully crafted fondant. Forgetting the birthday celebration, Willow pressed,

“If you won’t change the policy, then I shall.”

Jacques lit a match, his lips wrapping around a thick cigar,

“My dear, I think you may find that rather difficult.” His eyes became hooded in a bid to hide from the blue smoke that curled at the edges, “After the tragic demise of Russell by the White Fang terrorists ….” Satisfied it was lit, he watched the flames burn the wood down to the very last millimetre before he dunked it in his water glass, “-His vote falls to the CEO of the SDC.”

“Yes me..”

Leisurely, the business man sat back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee,

“No, You, my dear, are merely a figurehead.. I am the CEO, the vote falls to me.” He tapped the ash on the floor, “- Until a suitable candidate can be found.”

Drawing herself up to her full height, Willow took a step towards him,

“I will contest it. I will bring it up in front of the board.”

With a smug grin, he gestured with his glass, the amber liquid threatening to spill over the rim,

“By all means, go ahead, but I think you will find that the board will not vote in favour of a socialite who prefers to remain cloistered behind her palace walls, who once referred to her duties as, what was it… ah yes, a burden.”

A deep red came to Willow’s ivory cheeks,

“You know that was not what I meant.. That I chose to remain here to take care of the children. To take care of Father.”

Taking a huge inhale, he seemed to hold it for a brief moment before thick tendrils of acrid smoke unfurled from his nose giving him the appearance of a dragon,

“ Yes.. It was honourable of you... A dutiful and doting daughter choosing to take care of her ailing Father. But I think you will find that the Board will put their trust in a man who has steered the company in the right direction for many years. In a man who has turned a profit every quarter even in these trying times.”

Winter observed as her mother’s hands balled into fists, taking on an accusatory tone,

“By cutting funding and putting employees lives in danger?”

Tipping his head,

“We are well within industry regulations.”

“Regulations you have dictated by lobbying the Minister for Industry.” Her mother began to move towards the door with purpose, “I shall not put up with this. First thing in the morning I am invoking my right to call a meeting of the board.”

Ignoring her, he finished off his drink,

“Don’t be ridiculous…. You shall continue on with your frivolous philanthropist duties on behalf of the SDC whilst I continue to take care of the business, guiding it in the right direction in these dark times,” His voice became viperous, “ -To ‘ensure’ the future of our children.”

Her mother stopped dead in her tracks,

Winter flinched at the thinly veiled threat and Weiss’ head swivelled between her parents.

Willow’s shoulders drooped as if with the weight of Atlas. Turning to look at her husband, her voice came out barely a whisper,

“Did you ever love me?”

Jacques took another pull of the cigar as he coolly regarded his wife. Again he cadishly tapped the ash on the floor,

“If you have to ask, then I am sure you already know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it! In front of the children –“ Her voice became shrill. “-Say it!”

“If you insist…”

A deep silence that seemed to swell and distort the space rolled out. Winter dug her finger nails into the back of her hand. It seemed to suck in all the oxygen as the teenager struggled to gasp for air. Please no, not today. Weiss’ face became pinched, her tiny eyebrows furrowed in concern. Winter began,

“Father.. Please.. Don’t.”

Taking no heed of his daughter’s pleas, he instead remained focused on his wife. He took time as if savouring the moment making a big display of leaving the cigar on the edge of armrest, the corner of his lip twitched up as he coldly announced,

“- I only married you for the company.”

The candles on the cake flickered and died.

Willow’s eyes flickered to each of her children, Winter watched as her mother seemed to recoil, her face crumbled and she fled

Weiss bottom lip trembled… Whitley let out a loud wail..

Jacques spat.

“Oh for the sake of the gods.. Shut up that infernal racket!

Bolting from her chair, Winter scooped up her little brother and held out her hand in encouragement

“Weiss .”

The little girl scrambled from her seat, eagerly grasping her big sisters hand.

Winter briefly paused in the doorway, watching as Jacques bit into a purple plum, the soft flesh breaking, spilling dark venous juices down his chin.

He looked up. Holding his gaze, she stood back with Whitley on her hip and Weiss holding her hand. Activating a glyph on each handle she concentrated all of her rage. Under the sheer pressure, the doors began to shake and rattle in their hinges.

“I hate you!”

Catching the brief flicker of surprise on his features, she let go. The force exerted was enough to slam the doors closed with a resounding boom and caused the solid timber to splinter in its frame.

#SDC #rwby fanfiction #winter schnee fanfiction #rwby #winter schnee #weiss schnee #willow schnee #jacques schnee #whitley schnee #winter solstice runephoenix #winter solstice #winter schnee headcanon

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formerlyrunephoenix6769 · 5 years

Text

Winter Solstice: Chapter 7

(Winter Schnee Fanfic from my h/c I used to have from my old blog. I shall be tagging this under formerlyrunephoenix6769 rwby fanfic to make chapters easier to find)

A Fondant Charade.

Her little sister began to crinkle her nose, bobbing up and down like an Atleasian marchhare. She moved as is to scratch it, pausing when she caught Winter’s barely detectable shake of her head. The teenager felt his critical gaze lingering before he cast it upon Weiss. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, checking his silver pocket watch.

“Where is she?”

A servant hesitantly offered,

“Mistress Willow was in the East Wing, Sir.”

Whitely began to fidget.

The businessman's moustache twitched with a sickle of dissatisfaction.

“She is aware….”

Suddenly their mother swept open the double doors behind their father, a waft of lillies proceeding her.

“Sorry, darlings.”

“Darling, what happened to your face?”

Having no wish to mar Weiss’ special day by causing an argument, Winter avoided her gaze,

“I was careless during training.”

This close, Winter witnessed the miniscule steely flicker of a glance in the direction of Jacques before coming back to rest on her. Without a hint of reproach, her mother parted,

“You must wear your mask at all times, Darling.”

Registering the loaded meaning, Winter gave a weak nod, belying the urge to seek out the comfort she so greatly wished for. Over at the far side of the table the little boy began to fuss. Willow gave him a smile, gesturing for them to sit. Whitley, too small to make it onto the booster seat looked around, holding out his arms to his mother only for a servant to swoop in and situate the little boy. In a bid to hide her disappointment, Willow announced,

A waiter began to move about the room, decanting clear crisp water into everyone's glasses. From his vantage point, Jacques held out his whiskey tumbler,

“Yes… I “

“All the necessary arrangements have been made.” Taking a sip of her water, Willow motioned for the wine to be decanted. “I think you will find him to your liking..”

“Who?” Her father growled.

Winter observed as her father fixed Willow with a glare. If her mother noticed, she ignored it as satisfied with her beverage, she waved away the servant.

The little girl opened her mouth as if to speak only to be cut off by her father with a steely tone,

“You know I don’t like it when I am not consulted.”

“I think in this particular for instance I am far more qualified than you.”

“Still-” Never taking his eyes off his wife, he shook out his napkin, tucking it into his shirt collar, “- I wish to be consulted.”

Willow elegantly teased her own napkin from its silver holder, demurely placing it on her lap as was correct etiquette in their circles.

“The opportunity didn’t arise.”

Taking the cue from their mother the two girls copied her whilst Whitley was helped by a member of the serving staff. Plucking fresh tomatoes still on the vine, Jacques added peevishly,

“A scroll call wouldn’t have been remiss.”

Willow gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she selected olives from a nearby dish,

“Well, you are always telling me how busy you are, and quite frankly I felt it would be of no concern to you.”

A muscle began to work in Jacques jaw and his eyebrows furrowed.

Winter steeled herself for the barrage, focusing on a particular whorl in the cherry wood.

Could they not for one day leave it at the door, for Weiss’ sake?

“What would you suggest?”

“The bisque, Miss. It comes from the finest ingredients from the seas at the southernmost tip of Vale. I believe it is Miss Weiss’ favourite.”

She observed as Weiss and Whitley pointed at the rolls they wished for and waited patiently for their servers to prepare them. Every time it made her feel as if she was an invalid. He went as if to break the roll and spread butter on it. Winter stopped him, taking the roll from the tongs,

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

“I went to the office today.”

Without missing a beat, Jacques’ pink tongue flicked out to catch the pale flesh of veal that threatened to tip from his fork, “Is that so?” The meat continued on its journey around his mouth, it was as if witnessing a troughing Boartusk. “I was under the impression that you were with the other useless socialite housewives.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Willow paused to put down her silverware, “- When it was brought to my attention that you have called off the search for the missing miners.”

Her father continued to attack his meal with gusto,

“As is company policy.”

“Then change it.”

“We have adhered to our legal obligation.”

Winter resumed moving the bright pink meat around her plate in a bid to avoid catching either of her parent’s eyes. Their bickering reminding the teenager of her fencing matches.

“It has only been the minimum of days, Jacques.”

The man stabbed a piece of asparagus,

“Well within regulation.. Besides, if anybody survived, which I highly doubt, they will more than likely be frozen to death.”

With her hands palm down on the table and leaning slightly forward, Willow appealed,

“Jacques, they are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, they have loved ones.”

Jacques chewed on the green stalk,

“And they will be compensated handsomely.”

Willow rose slightly from her seat, pushing her advantage,

“They don’t want our money. They want their loved ones returned to them.. If my father was alive he wouldn’t rest until every last one of them was brought to the surface, safe or not.”

Dropping the fork onto to the plate, her father peevishly spat,

“Well he isn’t, is he?”

“Mama, Father, please!” Keeping her head bowed, Winter said, “It is Weiss’ birthday.”

“Sir, Madam.” He bowed to Weiss, “My Lady.” Weiss beamed at the attention, “I have brought to you today, a work of art like no other.”

Carefully placing it on the table close to the birthday girl, he unveiled it with a flourish.

“Mama, look!”

Getting up from her seat, Willow began to examine the birthday cake in awe. Touching her hand to the red jewels at her neck, Willow returned the chef’s smile,

“You have simply out done yourself… Thankyou”

From the trolley, she retrieved small plates and a cake cutter.

“It seems almost a shame to cut it, doesn’t it?”

Weiss enthusiastically nodded.

Placing the utensils on the table and giving her youngest daughter a squeeze, she asked,

“Winter, let’s get a photograph with your scroll.”

No sooner had the last servant closed the door, Jacques picked back up the argument,

“As opposed to leaving them in an icy grave?”

“If you won’t change the policy, then I shall.”

Jacques lit a match, his lips wrapping around a thick cigar,

“Yes me..”

Leisurely, the business man sat back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee, his highly polished black dress shoe in stark contrast with the pristine white of his suit.

“No, You, my dear, are merely a figurehead.. I am the CEO, the vote falls to me.” He tapped the ash on the floor, “- Until a suitable candidate can be found.”

Drawing herself up to her full height, Willow took a step towards him,

“I will contest it. I will bring it up in front of the board.”

With a smug grin, he gestured with his glass, the amber liquid threatening to spill over the rim,

A deep red came to Willow’s ivory cheeks,

“You know that was not what I meant.. That I chose to remain here to take care of the children....To take care of Father."

Taking a huge inhale, he seemed to hold it for a brief moment before thick tendrils of acrid smoke unfurled from his nose giving him the appearance of a dragon,

Winter observed as her mother’s hands balled into fists, taking on an accusatory tone,

“By cutting funding and putting employees lives in danger?”

“Well, we are within industry regulations.”

Ignoring her, he finished off his drink,

Her mother stopped dead in her tracks. Winter flinched at the thinly veiled threat and Weiss’ head swivelled between her parents. Willow’s shoulders drooped as if with the weight of Atlas. Turning to look at her husband, her voice came out barely a whisper,

“Did you ever love me?"

Jacques took another pull of the cigar as he coolly regarded his wife. Again he cadishly tapped the ash on the floor,

“If you have to ask, then I am sure you already know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it! In front of the children –“ Her voice became shrill. “-Say it!”

“If you insist…”

“Father.. Please.. Don’t.”

The candles on the cake flickered and died.

Willow’s eyes flickered to each of her children, Winter watched as her mother seemed to recoil, her face crumbled and she fled Weiss bottom lip trembled… Whitley let out a loud wail.

Jacques spat.

“Oh for the sake of the gods.. Shut up with that infernal racket!

Bolting from her chair, Winter scooped up her little brother and held out her hand in encouragement.

“Weiss .”

The little girl scrambled from her seat, eagerly grasping her big sisters hand.

Winter briefly paused in the doorway, watching as Jacques bit into a purple plum, the soft flesh breaking, spilling dark venous juices down his chin.

“I hate you!”

Catching the brief flicker of surprise on his features, she let go. The force exerted was enough to slam the doors closed with a resounding boom and caused the solid timber to splinter in its frame.

Swiftly she made her way to her bedroom, grateful when Klein arrived hot on her heels.

“Miss, can I be of service?”

She gave the butler a wane but thankful smile as she gently unpeeled Whitley’s tight grasp around her neck as he hung like a drop bear,unwilling to let go.

“Please remain here with them and get them settled.” She softly rubbed the small boy’s back as he continued to sob in small hitches,”- They can stay here with me this evening.” Winter lay a comforting hand on Weiss shoulder as the young girl began to look panicked, “It’s ok, I shall return shortly.” Her voice soft and assuring, “- I must check on Mama.”

“I’ll order hot cocoa and make sure to retrieve some of that cake.” The two small children slightly perked up, “- Would you both like that little master and mistress?”

Winter watched as the butler began to attempt to settle the two children on the bed, a warm domestic scene in stark contrast with the events that had previously unfolded.

Satisfied at their safety, she quietly slipped out of the door.

Taking the back stairs and servant’s passage ways so as to avoid any run in with her father she quickly made her way to the East Wing. Rounding the corner, she spied two members of the security team hovering at the main entrance to the hallway that would lead to her mother’s rooms.

With her back straight and shoulders set, she drew herself up to her full height as she approached

They moved as if to block her.

“I wish to see my Mother. Step aside!”

“I’m afraid we cant do that.”

Winter’s eyes narrowed, as she haughtily snapped,

“Why not?”

“We are under strict orders not allow anyone down here. For your own safety.”

“I hardly think I am in any danger from my own mother.” The guards looked at each other. Winter continued, trying to keep the shake from her voice, “- My mother sent for me, and as you both know punctuality is a must in this household. What do you think is going to happen when I have to explain why I was late?”

Both guards took a moment before stepping aside.

“Thankyou gentleman, I think you will find you have made the right choice. If you make your way to the servants kitchen there might just be some left over cake. I would hurry if I were you.”

Gently she rapped her knuckles on the door. Waiting patiently for a reply. Finding none she cautiously cracked open the door, calling out,

"Mama?"

The room was in disarray, clothes strewn round the room, the contents of the dresser scattered all over the floor. The wardrobe looked like it had bore the brunt of an explosion, splintered and hanging in its frame.

In the centre of the room, Willow lay slumped on the floor. As Winter quietly approached the woman struggled to sit up, her head lolling. Her eyes seemed unable to focus. Crouching down beside her, Winter took the wine bottle from her mother’s unresisting grasp. Her mother’s once beautiful features were marred by swollen cheeks and puffy red rimmed eyes. Her makeup was smeared and her bun was askew.

"Mama, are you ok?"

Winter slowly helped her mother get unsteadily to her feet, struggling under the extra weight as she leaned on her for support. Willow suddenly pulled her daughter into a hug. She smelt of perfume and alcohol that caused Winter’s nose to burn.

"Promise me you will get away from here!"

"Yes, Mama."

Letting go, Willow slurred as Winter guided her over to the bed.,

"He will never willingly let you go.... You must make him....... Do what ever it takes to get away from here.... To get away from him!"

Biting back her tears, Winter dutifully replied,

“I know, Mama.”

With nimble and gentle fingers, Winter unzipped the back of her mother’s gown, not caring as it pooled as it pooled on the floor. Giving her mother much needed support, she waited as older woman stepped out of it. Winter pulled back the covers on the queen sized bed and gently eased her mother onto the mattress, tucking the sheet up around her.

"Weiss and Whitley?"

"I am taking care of them, Mama."

"You're a good girl, Winter. I dont tell you.. Your father.. He.,.. " Willow sniffed, "I am sorry, Winter."

Winter tenderly stroked her mother’s hair out of her face and pressed her lips against her forehead as she tenderly murmured,

"Hush now, Mama."

"I'm sorry."

“I know.”

“I love you, Winter.”

Tears began to prickle like an over flowing dam,

“I know Mama. I love you too.”

Once more stroking her mother’s hair, she turned on the small bedside lamp. Retrieving the empty bottle, she rushed out of the door.

Out in the hallway, she let loose the rising tide and like the levees that broke, tears began to pour.

Feel free to like, comment or share. :)

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imdifferentshadesofpurple · 7 years

Text

Late Night Misunderstandings.

For @baebae-goodnight - Tiff, we’ve only just barely met but thanks to the kpoptrashnetwork, I’m able to see how wonderful of a human you are. #maketiffweakweek was a perfect example of all the love you deserve. I know it’s a little late, but I hope you’re doing well. I’m sending all the good vibes and my own dash of love. xoxo Mo

There was one thing you were sure of: Jackson Wang was irritating.

Your unspoken rivalry had started at the ripe age of ten, when you had moved cities in order to pursue a fencing career. By that time, Jackson had made a name for himself in amateur competitions, his skill talked about through whispers and longing stares.

You had paid no attention, focusing simply on yourself and the hard work you had to put in to become someone in the athletic world.

You trained day in and day out, spending your evenings not at home on the couch but in the training rooms, sweat drenching your clothes as you practiced attack after attack.

You’re able to avoid the “almighty Wang” for a solid amount of time until you’re both set to compete against each other a few years later. By then, you had multiple wins under your belt, placing first in the women’s division three straight years in a row.

He’s not cocky, you couldn’t stand over confident assholes that thought they were better simply because you were a female. He was overly friendly when he finally introduced himself as you were packing up after an excruciating day of training. At first, you chalked your sour attitude to sore muscles, just a simple ‘hello’ in exchange for his compliments on your fencing skills. He had looked surprised at first, the look evident on his face as you brushed off his attempt at being civil.

It’s after a few more failed endeavors that he starts to get irritating. He teases you and how you hold your sabre, scoffs when you recover and your footing is off. You’re unable to focus when he’s in the room and when you lose your first match since you were a kid, the reason for your blood boiling is Jackson fucking Wang.

Now, both of you older and completely uncivil towards each other, you find yourself in the one place you couldn’t stand to be:

In a car with Satan himself.

In the time you had grown up in the fencing world, you had made one friend: Shan. She was the only one at school that didn’t treat you differently, something you were seriously grateful for. Her only downside? Her choice in men. And even though Park Jinyoung was handsome and smart and quite funny, his best friend was none other than your archenemy.

So even when you could no longer fence, your broken bones from a freak accident never healing just right, you had to see Jackson’s stupid face almost everyday.

Being stuck in a moving vehicle with five more hours of open road ahead was Hell and you wished you could burn up and die.

“Too hot? I can turn up the air.”

His voice is quiet, a decibel you’re not used to. Even though it was almost three in the morning, you expected him to be as annoyingly vibrant as he would be at one in the afternoon.

“...no. It’s fine.”

He nods, lips set in a thin line as his hands return to the steering wheel. The road ahead is dark and you opt to turn towards the quick moving scenery outside your window.

Your stomach feels off so you can’t sleep, wishing that your eyes would close so that you could eat up the time by dozing off. Instead, you’re stuck cursing at Shan and Jinyoung in your head, chastising them for their inability to keep their hands off each other.

“Who would’ve thought those losers would get caught skinny dipping on their vacation?”

You want to groan at his small talk, Jackson’s voice still slightly muted from the exhaustion he was most likely feeling.

Four straight competitions in a row on two different continents would make even you tired.

You shuffle in your seat, pulling your sleeves up and around your hands, “I’m not really surprised. They’re always being gross and stupid in love. It was only a matter of time before the police would catch on and arrest them for how damn horny they constantly seem to be.”

He chuckles, it’s so quiet you almost miss it, but when it reaches your ears, it reminds you of how loudly he’d laugh when you were kids, dressed in his fencing gear while he was surrounded by other athletes.

There’s suddenly a bitter taste on your tongue... ....and a sudden noise coming from the engine.

You sit up in your seat as the car starts to slow down, panic setting in as Jackson tries to maneuver his car into the nearest parking lot.

The motel sign flashes brightly at you when you get out, cold air hitting exposed skin as he opens the hood up to inspect the damage.

“What the hell, this car is fucking brand new,” he murmurs under his breath, hand wrist deep in the machine. You know nothing about cars so you leaned against the door as he muttered obscenities under his breath. You’re tired, eyes feeling like they’re about to shut, and you can’t believe you’re still in this situation with Jackson Wang.

You know what’s most likely going to happen. But you pray to God it doesn’t have to.

“We might have to stay the night Y/N.”

Dammit.

Jackson continues, unaware of the mental breakdown you’re internally having, “We can grab two rooms and find somewhere to fix the car in the morning. I’ll shoot a text to the lovebirds and let them know they’re gonna have to get comfortable in their jail cell until we can come and get them...Y/N?”

You turn towards him, scowling, “Yes?”

He frowns at you, “I know that look. But we don’t have a choice. I don’t know what’s wrong with the damn thing and it’s three in the fucking morning and I’m exhausted. So we’re grabbing rooms, getting sleep, and you’re gonna have to deal.”

You don’t answer, just angrily making your way to the front desk... ...where you discover there’s only one room.

Of. Course.

The bed is oddly comfortable, for a cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. But you’re too focused on the body in the bed across from yours to settle your racing heart. You want to sleep. Need to. You required energy to yell and de-friend Shan when the sun was finally up. But having Jackson right there, sleeping, was causing your stress level to drastically rise. Clutching the thin sheets, you try and find a comfortable position, keeping the noise to a minimum.

“You can move. I’m not asleep and it won’t bother me.”

Heart seizing quickly, your head turns to see that yes, his eyes were indeed open, staring at the ceiling like it held all the world’s secrets.

“I thought you were asleep. I...didn’t want to disturb you.”

He snorts, “That’s a first.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He gets up, scooting back until he was propped up against the headboard, “You’ve hated me since we were kids. It’s a surprise that you wouldn’t just rustle around to keep me awake.”

“Jackson Wang, I did not hate you when we were kids.” “Bullshit Y/N. Stop lying. It’s not a good look on you.”

Your mouth snaps shut, cheeks on fire at the tone of his voice. It’s quiet, save some movement outside from other patrons, before you say, “I didn’t...I didn’t hate you. And anyway, let’s say I did. You’re the one that started it!”

He turns towards you so fast, you’re afraid he snapped his neck, “Okay. What in God’s name are you talking about? I tried to be your friend. I introduced myself and tried to get to know you and you just...brushed me off like I wasn’t worth your time! You even blamed me when you lost that one match all those years ago!”

“Because it was your fault! You kept bothering me, teasing me. I lost focus whenever you were around! So of course I lost!”

“People tease me constantly Y/N. And sometimes the words are alot more painful than anything I’ve ever said to you! Don’t act all high and mighty just because you can’t fence anymore and you need someone to blame!”

His eyes widen when he stops talking, your expression shutting him up real quick. Your eyes swell and though you hated crying, tears slipped down your cheeks as you turned away and buried yourself under the covers.

“Oh shit...Y/N I didn’t...I didn’t mean...dammit.”

Your shoulders shake with the memory of your accident, the pain shooting up your arm still to fresh even though it’s already been two years. When your bed dips, you look over your shoulder to see him sitting there, eyes laced with concern.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t...I didn’t mean that. I let my frustration out and it was cruel.”

“But you’re right aren’t you,” you whisper, tears slowly falling, “I can’t fence. It’s too much for me now. And you...you can compete. You’re so good and you keep winning and you can still do it. I can’t anymore and I don’t...I don’t know why I’m so angry at you. Or maybe I do. Maybe...maybe you’re exactly what I don’t want to see. Fencing. It’s painful now Jackson. Not just my arm. It hurts to remember.”

You let him gather you into his arms, heart pounding as he rests is his chin on your head. You’ve never been this close, this intimate, and you’re unsure about what you’re feeling right now.

“I won’t let you forget.”

You look up at him, “What? Why?”

He smiles, “It was who you were. I introduced myself that night because I heard of this young kick ass athlete that was new to the training facility and didn’t have friends. I knew how tough that would be in the long run. The other athletes there stick to themselves. Sure, we hangout sometimes after training and whatnot but you and I were the only youth division fencers. I wanted to have you by my side so that we both weren’t lonely. And then...you kept pushing me away. And I thought it was because you were just a little too focused. And then I thought it was because you hated me. Saw me as competition. So to continue talking to you, somehow, I started to tease you. Your spiteful comments were the only way I could still be there for you.”

“Jackson...Jackson why didn’t you try harder,” you wail, burying your wet face into the fabric of his shirt.

He splutters, “I tried okay! No offense, but you’re kind of a bitch!”

You smack him and he laughs, eyes filled with a little more mirth, “I was not a bitch. I just...you teased me. I hated it. And then I lost that match. My first one since competing and...and I blamed you. It wasn’t your fault. I was being childish. But you were right. I wanted to blame someone. Sadly, you were an easy target.”

“Since we’re all about confessing...I’m just going to tell you that I used to have a crush on you when we were kids.”

You almost choked on your own spit.

“I’m sorry, you what now?”

He shifted on the bed, now leaning against your headboard with you somehow between his legs. Shrugging, he played with your fingers, “Even though you hated me, I liked you. You were dedicated. Badass. You had major fencing skills. Smart. Funny. And even in your training gear, you looked pretty. Who wouldn’t like you? Well, besides the attitude.”

He chuckles again as your palm comes in contact with his thigh, “Watch it Wang.”

“In all seriousness, you don’t hate me, do you?’

“No.”

“So all these years were wasted? We could’ve been falling in love and getting freaky in the training rooms when it was after hours?”

“Yah. I said watch it.”

“And I said in all seriousness.”

You think for a moment, remembering all the times your heart would beat quickly at the sight of him before you’d have to remember that oh yeah, you didn’t like him.

“Maybe. You should’ve tried harder. I’m like an onion.”

“A pretty onion,” he whispers, breath hot against your skin.

“No onions are pretty, you weirdo.”

“I’ve got one right here, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jackson,” you whine, the rumble of his laughter pressed against your back.

“Fine. I’ll save the embarrassing compliments for the long ride home. Let’s get some sleep. We still have to pick up the law breaking duo.”

“Stay here,” you ask quietly.

“I’ve always wanted to be right here stupid. Now sleep.”

To say Jinyoung and Shan were surprised to see you both making out in the parking lot of the police station was an understatement.

They asked too many questions, voices raised in the backseats. You let them be, no longer angry that they were the reason for the impromptu road trip.

You had Jackson’s hand in yours, his smile sent your way, and you didn’t think there’d be another moment in your life where you’d be angry.

And a week later, when you’re cheering him on at his competition, you say goodbye to the pain fencing brought you, welcoming the sport like it was an old friend.

“It is an old friend babe. You used to fence, remember?” “Shut up Jackson Wang. Don’t you make me stab you with your sabre.” “...kinky. Okay, okay ow! Damn sorry.”

A/N: I 100% believe @kpopfanfictrash would get caught skinny dipping with Park Jinyoung. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life lol.

#kpoptrashnetwork #kpoptrashtag #maketiffweakweek #baebae-goodnight #feat. law breaking Shanyoung lol #got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 scenario #jackson wang #got7 jackson #got7 jackson scenario #got7 jackson wang fic #jackson wang fic #jackson wang scenario #jackson!fencer

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