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brokenmimir · 4 years

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The Curse of the Golden Hoard

White Rose Week 2020, Day 5: Curse

In Vale, success breeds misfortune as readily as failure.

(Sequel to The Ruby Eye of the Serpent King)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718948 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13615480/1/The-Curse-of-the-Golden-Hoard

Weiss rolled her eyes as Yang threw the door open, the solid oak banging against the interior wall loudly, drawing the attention of all of Beacon. Normally she would've been angry at the brute attracting the potential ire of as many dangerous people as routinely visited the small tavern, but in that moment she was too elated to care.

Still, appearances had to maintained, even if her heart wasn't in it. “Yang…”

“Sorry, ice queen,” Yang sang. “Guess I forgot my own strength. How 'bout I make it up to everyone with a round of drinks on me!”

“Yeah!” the room cheered, and Peter Port smiled behind his thick mustache as he began preparing drinks for the relaxing crowd, who were all discretely tucking away the weapons they had prepared against the forceful entry.

Yang strutted over to their usual table, throwing the heavy sack she'd been carrying down on it, making it clink suggestively for those with an ear for gold. Blake did the same, and then Ruby as well, until all three looked at her expectantly. Finally, with a long suffering sigh, Weiss heaved her own sack onto the table, privately enjoying the sound of their new fortune.

“We're going to be robbed the moment we step out of here,” Weiss complained as she sat down, an unrepentant Ruby hopping onto her lap with a grin. Weiss grunted a little at the weight, as for as petite as she looked, the barbarian girl was all densely packed muscle, built lean and wiry for maximum speed and agility.

“Like anyone can take us,” Yang snorted. “I don't know about anyone else, but I'm feeling good tonight!”

Blake grabbed their drinks, a glass of mead for Ruby and red wine for Weiss, and soon all four clinked their glasses together. “To friends and family!” Ruby cried.

“To a job well done,” Blake added.

“To having fun,” Weiss put in.

“To being filthy stinkin' rich!” Yang crowed, and all four downed their drinks. “Hey Port, another round on us!"

“There's no way we're going to make it back in safety after this,” Weiss said. “And you'd better not dip into our haul to pay for all of this; we haven't even divvied it up yet.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy,” Yang groaned. “Come on, live a little! When are we ever gonna get this much again. And it wasn't even illegal!”

“Well, not very illegal, anyway,” Blake drawled. “I'm sure we broke some laws. You can barely breathe in Vale with pissing off some magistrate.”

Weiss hummed thoughtfully. “The tower was probably owned by someone, for all that it's been abandoned since the Grimm attack centuries ago. Furthermore, we are supposed to declare any salvage for tax purposes. So on at least two levels we broke the law.”

“Ugh, Vale sucks,” Yang groaned, before taking a swig of her ale. “Of course, I can't party like this back home. Even if I brought back this good've a haul somehow the elders would've just taken it to 'spend on the village' and I'd be expected to go right back out there.

“So not that different,” Weiss chuckled. “Except here, everyone's so corrupt that no one is going to report you for not following the law. It's just a matter of if you can keep your ill gotten gains.”

Hours later, drunk with success and alcohol, the four girls staggered out of Beacon and onto the filthy streets of Vale. Not even stepping over a mugged corpse could get Ruby down that evening. Nothing could distract her from how right everything felt.

When she'd first arrived in Vale five months before she'd been an outsider, a barbarian unable to understand or accept anything about the city she'd been warned about her entire life. The first person she'd made a real connection to, Weiss, hadn't really simplified things, as the beautiful woman had represented everything her people had looked down upon about the city folk.

But somehow, after those few short months, full of combat, wealth, deprivation, magic, fear, and joy, they had bonded more strongly than she ever thought she could with an outsider. She spent more time with Weiss than she did her own sister, despite both of them being in the same city. And somehow, she wouldn't change a thing.

“Hey, which way should we go?” Yang asked, as she casually slugged an opportunistic moron in the jaw. His head snapped around, teeth flying, before he collapsed bonelessly onto the ancient cobblestones.

After pausing to rob the thieves of the few coppers they had, Blake pointed down the street. “Ruby's place is closer.”

“It's my flat,” Weiss grumbled. “I'm the one who signed the contract for it."

“Ruby's sounds good,” Yang agreed. “Come on sis, let's go crash you're place and split some loot.”

Weiss grumbled a little, but Ruby could tell that it was mostly for appearances, and even that stopped when she moved close enough to rest her head on the other woman's shoulder. Weiss actually blushed a little, which Ruby found more than a little funny. Weiss had no shame at all about nudity or sex, but honest, public affection made her quite embarrassed.

Once Yang and Blake had dealt with the criminals who had seen or heard about their largesse and its probably cause at Beacon, they made good progress, soon arriving at Weiss's apartment building. Unlike the cheap flophouses and rundown hovels that populated most of the poorer part of town, it was a newly renovated building, one only two blocks from the nicer living spaces that surrounded the Great Market. Obviously the owner either expected for merchants to be bold enough to make the journey through the crime ridden streets in exchange for cheaper rent, or they thought that the market district would soon grow to encompass the building. Either way, it was far nicer than it had any right to be, and had been available for a price that they could (barely) afford.

Once Weiss had the door unlocked they entered the main living area, and without a word all four began to dump their sacks out in the center of the floor. Coins and small gems made up the bulk of the haul, but a variety of statuettes, jewelry, and idols joined the growing pile. It was an impressive display of wealth, and for all that gold had relatively little allure for her, even she felt herself caught up in the moment, drooling over enough wealth to buy her village.

“Weiss,” Yang said distantly.

“Yes?”

“Remind me to team up with you more often,” Yang sighed joyfully.

Weiss smirked, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder smugly. “Of course. A little bit of research, and enough muscle to make it through some Grimm infested ruins, and we have more money than we know what to do with.”

“Little bit of research?” Ruby asked. “Weiss, you've done nothing but plan this thing for weeks now. I was actually getting a bit worried.”

“Why would you be worried?” Blake asked. “A good score always requires careful planning.”

“'Cause I've never seen Weiss fret over this kinda thing before,” Ruby said. “Usually Weiss doesn't worry about money at all. It was more than a little odd.”

“This was a lot of money,” Blake said, patting her sack.

“Not as much as the snake guy had,” Ruby pointed out.

“No,” Weiss grunted, before smirking. “But this is gold in my home. There's a big difference.”

“Hell yeah, there is,” Yang crowed, scooping up a handful of gold coins and tossing them in the air. “We're rich!”

It was far too late at night when they finally finished splitting the money, and with the help of a few bottles of wine that Weiss had gleefully shared, Blake and Yang were in no condition to walk home, so she graciously let them sleep on her floor near the fireplace for the night. With their own fortune secured in sacks, Weiss and Ruby retreated to their bedroom, where, after a brief moment of thought, she dumped the sacks on the center of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked with a giggle.

“Just a fantasy of mine,” Weiss said, removing Ruby's cloak and letting it fall to the floor. With deft, well practiced fingers she swiftly stripped Ruby completely naked, taking a moment to admire her strong, lean form. As she always did she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the scar she'd received fending off an assassin to save her life, before straightening up and shoving the barbarian back onto the bed.

“Hey! Ack!” Ruby complained. “That's cold.”

“If that's another ice queen joke,” Weiss grumbled as she straddled her lover.

“No, I mean, it's like, really cold,” Ruby said. “And kinda hard. And a little pointy.”

Weiss giggled like a child as she hovered over Ruby, sliding a hand through the gold and gems covering her bed. “Ah, come on. I've always wanted to make love in a pile of gold, and this is my chance. You're not going to say no, are you?”

Ruby just smiled up at her. “How much wine have you had to drink, anyway?”

She giggled again. “Way too much.”

Instead of replying Ruby pulled her down, and the two began to kiss, quickly growing heated as hands wandered. Eventually Ruby started trying to pull at Weiss's clothing, and she pulled back, standing from the bed.

“What?” Ruby panted.

“Just stay there,” Weiss said, before slowly, sensually beginning to remove her own clothing. She'd seen many, many dances put on to entertain crowds and rile up guests for more personal services, and while she'd never felt a need to put on such a show for a lover, she put every bit of her grace into it, the slight stumbles her drunkenness caused interfering very little with the display. Ruby's silver eyes were wide open, and Weiss grinned like the cat who caught the canary as she finally stripped the last item away, letting the silken undergarment drift to the ground.

She straddled Ruby again, but before she continued she spotted a piece of treasure sitting beside her lover. It was the appropriate size and shape, and with a wicked grin she picked it up, before leaning down and kissing Ruby again.

“Ack! Cold!”

Ruby wasn't sure what woke her up. Normally after so much mead and intimacy with Weiss she'd sleep the whole night through, but something pulled at her consciousness. It was a cold feeling, and at first she mentally blamed the treasure pile that Weiss had insisted they sleep on like they were legendary dragons. It wasn't quite that, however. The cold was deeper, in her heart, and she found herself shivering despite the blankets and warm body next to her.

Opening her eyes, she couldn't really see anything. It was dark, even darker than it should've been, as normally some dim light made it through the windows even deep in the heart of the night. She swallowed thickly, knowing on some level that something was wrong, although she couldn't put her finger on what. The same deep, primal sense that warned her when a dangerous beast was lurking about in the wilderness told her something was very, very wrong.

“Weiss, Weiss, wake up,” she whispered, still slowly turning her head from one side to the other as she tried to make out something in the pitch blackness. “Weiss.”

“Ughhhh,” Weiss groaned, shifting slightly closer and tossing a leg over her hip. “Again? You're starting to wear even me out.”

“Weiss, something's wrong,” Ruby whispered.

“Yeah, you're not asleep,” Weiss mumbled. “I promise, I'll do whatever you want… in the morning. Just need a… a little more sleep.”

“That's not… ugh,” Ruby groaned as Weiss fell back asleep. With a sigh she pushed her lover away, standing up stiffly and stumbling from the bed, coins and other valuables falling to the floor in a cascade of invisible gold. The sound seemed strangely dampened, however, as the heavy metal should've been louder falling more than a foot onto the wooden floor.

“I am never going to sleep on money again,” Ruby whimpered, rubbing her back and wincing when she dislodged a coin that had managed to embed itself into her flesh. No, she definitely wasn't doing that again, no matter how excited her weird fantasy had made Weiss.

It was hard finding her clothing in total darkness, especially since she'd been a bit distracted by Weiss while she'd stripped her. Once she finally had something on she reclaimed her battle scythe and carefully opened the door to the rest of the apartment, not wanting to risk walking in on her sister and Blake having their own celebration.

Instead, it was pitch black as well, but she could hear muffled snoring coming from the center of the room. “Blake? Yang?”

They didn't respond, even when she called again, and with her heart pounding in her throat she stumbled through the room, heading to where Weiss kept a candle for dark nights. Usually they navigated just fine by starlight, but sometimes her lover wanted to read in the evening, and she had to have something for that.

Normally finding the candle in the dark wouldn't have been difficult, but it felt like she was somehow being watched, like danger was all around her, ready to pounce. The longer she spent in that dark, quiet room, the more she felt vulnerable, like she was being hunted by an unknown predator. With unsteady hands she finally grasped the fine beeswax candle, a gift from herself to replace the stinky, smokey tallow Weiss had been using, and she pulled flint and steel from her pouch.

It was only as she tried to strike the tinder that she realized how badly her hands were shaking. She actually paused in her work in surprise, not quite able to believe it. It felt like it had been years since she'd had such a strong, useless reaction to fear, and yet here she was, shaking like a child on her first hunt. For the first time she was almost glad that it was dark, since it meant that no one could see her weakness.

After taking several long, deep breaths to gather herself Ruby finally regained her control, striking the flint and steel to produce strangely dull sparks. It took several tries, but finally the tinder took, and then the wick thereafter, lighting the candle.

It did almost nothing for the darkness. The large candle should've provided enough light to easily make out the room, but instead it seemed to be little more than a single point in the middle of a deep, dark blackness. She couldn't even see the walls of the room, and it was far from being so large as to make that reasonable.

Something was very, very wrong.

Ruby quickly, methodically searched the apartment. It wasn't very large, but with her light the way it was she had to take her time looking everywhere. Everything was as it should be, with no signs of intruders or anything else strange, other than the muffling of all sound and dampening of all light.

Yang and Blake were still asleep, which she supposed was strange in its own right. Yang was a heavy sleeper, but normally it was impossible to do anything without waking Blake up. Even a shift in the pattern of your breathing would cause her cat ears to twitch warily, but Ruby was able to crouch over her, burning candle in hand, without it disturbing her dreams.

With nothing wrong inside of the apartment, Ruby decided to check one last thing before waking up the others. Opening the door, she crept outside, looking about warily, before heading down to the street. While they were usually dark at night, with most honest citizens (for some meaning of the term) carrying lanterns if they had some business at that late of an hour, the stars and distant buildings usually gave enough illumination for her trained eyes to navigate the streets.

Instead Ruby looked around, frowning at the excessive dimness, before deciding to walk a bit to see where the dimming effect began and ended. She had only begun to walk when she spotted a body lying against the side of the building. She almost moved on, her time in Vale having conditioned her to ignore peopleliving or dead lying in the street, something that had been difficult to get used to after growing up in insular, tightly knit Patch. Without Weiss or Blake around to scold her for it, she decided to check on the person.

They were a woman of more than twice her years, with a face made up with powders and creams to seem younger, if poorly,something severely undermined by black streaks under her eyes. She was dressed in very little clothing, and from what Ruby could guess, were she younger and more attractive, the Weiss she had first met upon arriving in Vale would probably have paid for her services.

She also shouldn't have been passed out in the streets, without any sign of injury or intoxication causing her collapse. Ruby checked her pulse, and was relieved to find it, although it seemed slow, sluggish. She tried to shake her awake, but she didn't react at all, and it was then that she noticed something else odd. The black streaks, which she had assumed had come from tears mixing with kohl, were slimy and thick, and her eyes widened when she realized that their was a black streak on the wall behind her as well. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but if she had to guess, she'd say that the black ooze ran straight up the wall towards her window.

Ruby's fear sharpened, no longer seeming quite so baseless. She might've been able to dismiss her instincts crying out that something was wrong, or even somehow assumed that the muffling of sound and light were only in her head. But this was far more suspicious, and the only thing that kept her from running up the stairs was the burning candle in her hands, and how difficult it had been for her to light it in the first place.

As she hurried back towards the door she noticed two more bodies, this time a pair of laborers, tall and strong, collapsed near the street corner. While the woman may have been taking a break in the alley before continuing her walk or job, they were obviously taken by surprise, simply collapsing on the spot without a word. It was enough to make her speed up her step, using the arm holding her scythe to shield her candle as best as she could from the wind of her movement.

When she reached her door she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, leaning her deployed battle scythe against her shoulder so that she could carefully open the door without setting down her candle. It creaked open, and the gloom within was somehow even thicker, more impenetrable than before. The candle barely seemed to do anything, but she could somehow see something moving in the dark.

“Yang? Blake? Weiss?”

There was no response, but she heard something shifting in the room. Jaw tightening, she stepped inside, carefully shutting the door before her, before raising her scythe, choking up her grip to provide control one handed. It was a poor way to fight, but without better lighting she had no choice.

She slowly made her way across the room, eyes darting about, her heart jumping every time she saw something move, but every time it was simply her eyes playing tricks on her. Every figure was a piece of furniture, every attacker was naught but a shadow shadow, every monster an illusion when examined properly in the dim light.

When she reached her sister she nudged her with a toe. “Yang. Yang… Yang!”

She didn't move, didn't react. Finally, Ruby looked down, only to gasp at what she saw. Trailing down her face were the same thick, slimy black trails, as something apparently poured from her eyes, before being drawn across the room in the direction of the bedroom. One final glance at Blake to verify the same thing, and she was moving towards the bedroom door, keeping one eye on the slime trail while looking around for danger.

She didn't even bother opening the door, simply kicking it open, the loud slam a barely audible thud. Looming over the bed, over Weiss, was the most hideous creature she had ever seen.

It was thin, with long, spindly limbs, the feet coming to a single, sharp point, while the arms ended in three long, slender claws. The rest of the body was like a human shadow, angular and distorted, but recognizable in form, with bony plates scattered here and there, notably a skull and ribs. The face was vaguely human in shape under the bone, with burning red coals for eyes, and a gaping, fang filled maw.

Without hesitating she lunged forward, swinging her scythe in a broad, desperate stroke, hitting nothing but air. Unfortunately, the fast motion made the candle gutter out to almost nothing, and she was reduced to standing perfectly still, knowing there was a monster in the dark, unable to do a thing to stop it. She tried to listen, tried to feel the motion of the air, or see something in the dim ember of candle light, but it was like being wrapped in a blanket of night. All was still, silent, and shadowed.

After far too long the candle finally stopped sputtering, and Ruby turned about looking for the monster once more. It was when she had turned halfway around that she saw it, the thing having moved behind her, ready to attack once more. She swung her scythe again, trying her best to shield the candle with her body, but once again the tiny light failed, and she could do nothing but stand still, desperately hoping to find it before it could attack her again.

Then she felt the claws dig into her back. She reacted instantly to the sneak attack, diving forward into a roll that ended with her swinging her scythe, and this time, finally, she made contact. The monster broke its silence with a loud, terrible screech, which tore through her, scraping her bones for marrow and hollowing out her heart, leaving nothing but ice and fear behind.

This time she could hear it moving, the dullness slightly receded, and she didn't even hesitate, dropping the now completely snuffed candle on the ground as she spun in place, swinging her scythe right towards where she was sure the monster was. She made contact once again, and this blow sheared through something, and a moment later she heard something thump onto the floor, before the shrieking renewed.

Unfortunately her next swing missed, and her follow up hit the wall, so she paused, holding her scythe in both hands, trying to slow her breathing as she listened for the monster once again. She almost lashed out when she heard another sound, only to pause as she recognized Weiss's voice, even if she couldn't hold onto the words passing through her ears and mind. She shuddered, the motion agitating the cut on her back, and then the room was finally illuminated.

Weiss, nude and beautiful as ever, crouched on the bed, her sword in hand covered in a pale, spectral blue flame. She looked weak, her hand trembling, unable to fully stand as she held the weapon as high as she could through her enervation, trying to provide the best light she could. Ruby could see the lines of black slime down her own face, as whatever had happened to the others has been done to her as well.

Then Ruby turned, reacting almost before she sensed it, swinging her scythe once more at the monster. It was looming behind her once more, its left hand missing from her earlier attack, and, finally able to see, Ruby aimed her swing directly towards its neck. The scythe cut through, and the head bounced away, breaking down into the same black ooze before turning into the oily, smokey fog of a dead Grimm, its body slowly following.

“Weiss!” Ruby shouted, lowering her scythe and turning to her lover. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she rasped, raising a shaking hand to her face, rubbing away the slime with a look of disgust. “What the hell was that?”

Weiss had never felt so completely drained in her life. Not after performing all night magical rituals with Cinder and the others, not after the frantic, desperate sword training lessons her sister gave her before she left to become a mercenary, not even after the wild, week long benders that dragged her to half the houses of ill repute in the city trying to forget everything. It was as though every bit of energy had been ripped from her body, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its place.

She'd used what little energy she had left to cleanse and bind Ruby's injury, the process wearing her out so badly that her lover had been forced to dress her, as she could do little more than slowly shift her limbs by the time the process was complete. Ruby had, much to her protestations, actually carried her into the main room, where she set her on a large chair and lit several candles.

Blake and Yang stirred sluggishly, Blake finally sitting up and blinking dazedly around the room. She didn't even seem to the notice the slime on her face, her nearly vacant expression only gaining a little focus when she saw them. “Weiss… Ruby. What happened?”

“Grimm,” Ruby answered. “I've never seen anything like it.”

Blake blink a couple of times, before starting to stand only to collapse when her legs wouldn't support her weight. She blinked down at them, an expression of betrayal on her face, before looking back up at Ruby for answers.

“I don't know,” Ruby said. “Weiss's the same, and I think it wasn't just us. There were some people in the street the same way.”

Weiss gathered her strength for a moment, before speaking, her voice small and weak. “The Grimm must've gained strength by taking ours. Given enough time we'd be dead, and it probably would've expanded the area effected. This whole block probably would've died before anyone noticed if Ruby hadn't stopped it.”

“How come you weren't effected?” Blake demanded.

“I dunno,” Ruby said. “I just… woke up. When this whole thing started. Dunno know why.”

Weiss sighed, leaning back into her seat as Blake and Ruby talked. She was too tired to really maintain a conversation, but she hadn't wanted to lapse into silence while Ruby was obviously upset. She smiled slightly, glad for the diversion, as she let herself mentally drift.

She had managed to fall asleep again, only to awaken when the smell of cooking bacon filled the air. They rarely made their own food, with Weiss knowing nothing about how to do so, and Ruby being limited to roasting fresh game over a campfire, but Yang had somehow picked up some real cooking skills, and when she came back to herself it was to the sight of the exhausted blonde hunched over the fireplace, slowly poking at crisping bacon in a pan, bread sitting on the stone nearby to heat.

“You're awake!” Ruby said.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Did anything happen?”

“Uh… good news or bad news?” Ruby asked, moving to sit beside her on the seat.

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “How bad?”

“Uh… we're all alive, so it could be worse news,” Ruby hedged.

Weiss frowned. “So, very bad news.”

“Kinda,” Ruby agreed with a wince.

Weiss groaned in dismay. “How about good news… then breakfast… then bad news.”

Yang chuckled. “Gotta recharge before the bad?”

“Well, the good news is we're all alive,” Ruby said brightly. “The Grimm's gone, and the longer they've been up the better they've been feeling.”

“Yeah, you really need to put some meat on those bones, Weiss,” Yang taunted. “You're the only one who fell back asleep.”

Weiss glowered at her, not even breaking her expression when the other woman handed her a plate of food. “I also helped Ruby deal with the Grimm, while you two slept right through it.”

“Details,” Yang dismissed.

As annoying as the woman was, she prepared a filling meal. The fresh, hot bread was slathered with honey and fruit preserves, and the bacon was crispy, just the way she liked it. After crunching on a piece she groaned ecstatically. “Alright… you get to live.”

“How kind of you,” Blake drawled, although Weiss noticed she hadn't even looked up from her own breakfast.

Once they were all finished, Weiss leaned back against Ruby, a smile on her face as she finally felt a bit more human. “Okay, so what's the bad news.”

“Um… maybe it's better if you see for yourself.”

“See for myself?”

“Yeah… why don't you check our room.”

It was another typical night at Beacon, with Weiss nursing her red wine while Ruby sipped at her mead. Blake and Yang had gone elsewhere for the evening, probably driven off by Weiss's smoldering temper. Even most of a day after finding out the truth, her lover still wasn't over it.

“I can't believe it was all trash,” Weiss grumbled again.

Ruby chuckled. “Well, you know… easy come, easy go.”

Weiss glared at her, before sighing and slumping against the table. “But there was so much!”

The golden treasures they'd taken from the abandoned tower had turned out to be anything but valuable. With the Grimm cursing it dead, the treasure had turned out to be nothing but corroded scraps, rusty iron, and broken clay and pewter bits. Weiss hadn't been able to determine whether the fake treasure and associated Grimm had been an intentional trap placed by the tower's former owner, or if it had been something put together by the Grimm seeking gullible treasure hunters to prey upon, but either way they had been left with nothing.

“What's really bothering you?” Ruby asked.

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, her back tensing slightly.

“Weiss, you're the one who taught me what 'easy come easy goes' means,” Ruby pointed out. “Usually you're the first one to shrug that kinda stuff off. So why're you so upset now?”

Weiss was quiet for a long time, before finally sighing. “You know our apartment?”

“Uh huh,” Ruby hummed. “What about it?”

“Before… before we moved in together… before we got together, I didn't have anything beyond what I could carry,” Weiss said. “Just a belt pouch of money, the clothes on my back, and my ancestral sword. Otherwise, I would fight or steal to fill my pouch, and then find someone's bed to sleep in for the night. It's been… years since I've had a room that required a lease. I haven't… I haven't had a home since I left Schnee Manor.”

“What's wrong with that?” Ruby asked.

“Everything,” Weiss sighed. “And nothing. I guess… I was used to a lifestyle once, where I had roots, and books, and fancy candles, and staff cooking me meals, and a warmed bed ready for me at night. All with a steady roof over my head and no risk of losing it all. Well, no risk until I chose to throw it away. Then I had nothing to lose, but that meant I had nothing at all. I was rudderless, alone in crowds, with nothing to depend on, and nothing depending on me.

“But now… I don't want that anymore. I want a life with you. With a home, and a bed, and the security not to need to run when things go wrong. Money… money had no value to me when my family had so much of it, and no value to me when I needed no more than I could take in a day. But now… now I don't want to risk losing this… this life we're building.”

“I had no idea,” Ruby said, taking her hand. “This has been really bothering you, hasn't it?”

“It should bother you, too,” Weiss said. “Vale chews up and spits people out. That was fine when I didn't care what happened to me tomorrow, but I don't want that anymore. I want… I want a tomorrow, not just a today. And a tomorrow requires more than odd jobs and petty crimes.”

“Then we'll find more.”

“It's not that simple,” Weiss said.

Ruby grinned at her. “It's only not simple if you make it not simple. Besides, even if something does go wrong, I know how to live in the forest with nothing at all. We'll figure out how to get by, I promise.”

“Dolt,” Weiss said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, who's worrying about silly stuff here,” Ruby said. “You know, you should share this stuff with me. We're in this together, you know? You don't have to worry alone.”

“I- huh,” Weiss said, leaning back in her seat. “I suppose you're right.”

“Of course I am,” Ruby said with a grin. “Now, how 'bout I get us another round of drinks, and then we can figure out what we can do next, since I guess we have to pay money to that landlord guy every month.”

“Sure,” Weiss said with a smile. “Together.”

#white rose week #white rose #ruby rose #weiss schnee #rwby #fanfic

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thepetulantpen · 5 years

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Winter’s Crest

(Ended up much longer than I thought but here’s Caduceus giving the Nein gifts as a Christmas present for the critters)

Caduceus is, predictably, an incredible gift giver. He knows people and he knows what they want, sometimes before even they know. He may not always understand why they think such things are necessary, but he knows they at least think they know what they need.

It makes preparation for Winter’s Crest fairly straightforward. As straightforward as it gets for this group, anyway.

Which is not very straightforward at all, as Caduceus discovers that some of them don’t even celebrate Winter’s Crest- apparently, it’s a regional thing- or really any holidays, especially those that involve gift giving. It’s complicated, as it always is for the Mighty Nein.

But he knows, at least, that his gifts will be good and he thinks that’ll make up for the complicated dynamics.

The morning of Winter’s Crest is not a morning of uproarious celebration, as Caduceus had anticipated. He would’ve thought he’d mixed up the date if not for the passing mutterings of “happy Winter’s Crest” through the bar and the sparse white and blue decorations.

He supposes the level of holiday cheer doesn’t particularly matter. He’s got a mission to complete and lots of fickle people to reason with.

Caduceus finds Fjord lagging just behind the others, finishing breakfast in the tavern as the rest scurry off to their respective mischief.

For Fjord, Caduceus has something he picked up quite a while ago, during another time by the sea, just before they became pirates, long before they found Molly again, and longer before they began travelling north, aiming for a nearly nameless spot in the woods.

For Fjord, Caduceus has something that he thinks, that he hopes, will ground him, will remind him, will clear the waters of his mind, muddied by power and those who wield it.

For Fjord, Caduceus has a trinket, something small of the sort children always beg for when they pass cajoling street vendors, of the sort that tourists always point at, of the sort that serves as an impulsively bought souvenir, reminiscent of a walk along the port.

“Caduceus, I don’t know what to say,” Fjord winds the tiny thing, barely a toy and yet so much more, and looks back at Caduceus as it slowly whirs to life, “Thank you.”

“Thought you could use a reminder of home,” Caduceus smiles, soft and easy yet inscrutable, “I always find that remembering where I came from can help me find the way forward.”

Fjord has magic in his eyes, a child’s joy intent on a magician reading his mind and on a wind-up crab that glitters like a precious treasure in the dimmed lights of the tavern, a treasure that seemed unobtainable in his youth, now easily bought. He looks like he wants to say something, wants to ask more, but he just nods, treasuring the advice as much as the gift.

...

Caduceus finds Caleb wandering off by himself, discreetly, so as not to distract the rest of the party, trying to seek out materials for his own goals. Caduceus supposes he may be looking for books or spell casting materials or some other mystery item to feed those dark impulses lurking in his head but he hopes that his gift will be just as satisfying.

For Caleb, Caduceus has something he thinks will be good for him, something apart from those great, overreaching goals, something that’ll make him happy now and perhaps keep him happy, for a while.

For Caleb, Caduceus has a gift small enough for him to accept, small enough for him to justify even in his self-loathing, far enough removed from his own well-being that he’ll allow it.

For Caleb, Caduceus has a brush in the shape of a cat paw, bristles gentle and handle covered in soft fabric, crafted especially for a loving cat owner.

Caleb smiles softly, huffing a short laugh in surprise at the gift, not what he expected. He looks relieved to have something mostly inconsequential placed in his hands, nothing grand that he would have to calculate a repayment for, nothing grand that he couldn’t allow himself to have. No, nothing grand, but something nice, nice to use in nervous, quiet moments, with one of his only safe spaces.

“Caduceus, you know I appreciate this gift, but Frumpkin is not a real cat, you realize?”

“Of course, Caleb. But that doesn’t mean it can’t have nice things, for the times it does exist with us. You know,” Caduceus studies that reluctant little smile of Caleb’s and wishes he did that more often, “I’ve found that most everything, and everyone, deserves something nice sometimes.”

Caleb shifts and almost shakes his head but seems to decide against it, eyes cast back down towards the brush, away from Caduceus and his words. He nods a little, not convinced but willing to pretend, and smiles down at the brush, letting himself have this.

...

Caduceus finds Yasha by herself as well, not purposefully like Caleb, but by instinct when the rest of the group off is doing something she feels she can’t. The easy chaos of the Mighty Nein is not so easy for her, not being around as much and not wanting to socialize.

For Yasha, Caduceus has something she could’ve found herself, something that many people have given her, something everybody knows she’s fond of and another something that she hasn’t, but should’ve, been given long ago.

For Yasha, Caduceus has something that not everybody knows why she wants, something that he can only guess the half of, something that is perhaps as meaningful as it is abundant and another something that he’s given to many people over his many years.

For Yasha, Caduceus has a misfit bunch of flowers, for their variety rather than their beauty, and a whisper in her ear, for its gentleness rather than its intimacy.

Yasha smiles through her tears, happy to see Caduceus knows what to say. Expert words from the maker and protector of graves, kind words from a new friend.

“I know she’s never really gone.” She whispers too, not letting this private, grieving moment travel farther than her and Caduceus.

He touches the flowers and tells her, “She lives in the flowers that grow from the earth where she lays, in the rain that feeds them, and in the sky where it is all born. She lives in your heart and your mind so,” he pauses and smiles to match her, “you should try to keep it a happy place to live.”

Her tears do not diminish the value of her smile, enduring like a flower growing in the cracks of a road, or a tough as nails barbarian with a broken heart.

...

Caduceus finds Beau next, catching her supervising, or, more accurately, spectating, some chaos, waiting for her moment to shine. Caduceus hates to interrupt, but he’s not sure when he’ll get another chance to speak with her alone.

For Beau, Caduceus has something that the iron workers gave him a strange look when he mentioned, something that’s pretty rad, if he does say so himself.

For Beau, Caduceus has something that is perhaps not very important in the long run, but is certainly something she’ll like, something more special, more shiny, more cool than what she has at the moment, and it does certainly have a meaning that she may appreciate, a meaning vague enough to brush away if his hunch is wrong.

For Beau, Caduceus has a set of well-made throwing stars, shape familiar to no one but Beau, made to last longer with more flair, purple eyes deliberately inset at their centers.

Beau squints at Caduceus, seeing the symbols, but doesn’t question them, just grins at the new weapons in her hands.

“These are pretty cool, Duce. Thanks.” Beau claps a hand on his shoulder, casual gesture not so casual from distant, curt Beau.

“They’ll probably last you a bit longer than the old ones. It’s important to hold onto some things, especially when they mean something to you.”

Beau weighs the throwing stars in her hands, peering at the eyes with her piercing gaze that sees through enemies and allies alike, as if prying information from this inanimate object. She grunts in what could be called agreement by a generous witness and smiles again, not the strained, forced one, but the natural, instinctual one that everyone, no matter how grumpy, has within them.

...

Caduceus finds Molly not alone, never alone, if he can help it, but with Yasha, lounging lazily after an energetic day of hijinks. They make a good pair, loudness and quietness fitting together like puzzle pieces, Caduceus doesn’t want to break it up. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, as Yasha sees him and excuses herself, disappearing easily without resistance from Molly’s unconditional acceptance.

For Molly, Caduceus has something that required him to make friends with weavers and fabric workers all through town, something that took quite a bit of preparation in advance to get just right.

For Molly, Caduceus has something he should have never been without, something that even Caduceus, who did not know him before, thinks he looks incomplete without, something that pulls together this fascinating mixed bag of a person.

For Molly, Caduceus has a new coat, just as vibrant as the torn and bloody one stolen away and just as shiny as the dirt covered and potential filled one left behind, a coat with all the true colors and false gems the world has to offer, arranged in largely nonsensical patterns.

Molly’s smile is brighter than the sun and the stars and the moons all put together and is certainly not a rare commodity but it is a delightful one.

“Thank you, Mr. Clay. This is amazing, I love it.” Molly grabs him in a hug, pulls back too soon, kisses him on the cheek, and pats him on the back, indecisive flurry of affectionate movement, trying to fit as much into every precious moment as he can.

Caduceus smiles at Molly, not willing to dampen the frantic cheer even if he sees the death and the unresolved mysteries hanging like clouds over his twice risen head, especially on such a wonderful holiday.

“It’s different, but change can be nice. That’s the most important lesson I’ve ever been taught- that something can beautiful in all its forms, no matter how changed or unrecognizable.”

Molly tilts his head, caught between understanding and cluelessness, but rights it in the next second, deciding to be confident no matter his interpretation. He’s much too busy twirling and admiring the new coat to get too caught up in philosophy, anyway.

...

Caduceus finds Nott and Jester together, partners in crime and in solving crime, relaxing after a successful day. He meant to make gift-giving a private matter, but he supposes these two will be fine.

Jester scoots close, eager, and Nott scoot backs, nervous.

Caduceus makes the logical choice for who to start with.

For Jester, Caduceus has multiple somethings, somethings to spoil Jester in the way she is surely accustomed, somethings from himself, from home and from a favor he had to pull.

For Jester, Caduceus has something delivering the love she’s gone too far away from, something to make life a little sweeter, and something that’ll serve as a wonderful holiday surprise.

For Jester, Caduceus has a letter from her mother, who worried she wouldn’t be able to reach them when they wandered so far, that he’s been carrying with him, a box of sweets he made to resemble those from the Coast as best as he could imitate, and a signed, coveted copy of Tusk Love from a very, very kind librarian.

Jester dances about the room, taking Caduceus and Nott with her, so happy, everything she deserves. When she sits, she tucks into the box of pastries, tucks the letter into her journal and tucks the book against her chest, close to her heart. Her smile is filled with crumbs between her teeth and impaled on her fangs, happiness too overwhelming to wait for them to clear.

“Oh, Duces this is wonderful! So wonderful- how did you even get these? Your baking is so good! Duce, you’re the best!” she stops, then, eyes darting from the cover art on the newest copy of Tusk Love to Nott by her side. “Do have something for Nott, too?”

Kind girl, the kindest he’s met in a long time. “Of course I do, Jester, but,” he pauses for a second, looking between these two who would much rather give to friends than receive anything, “Be sure to make it a good day for not just your friends, but you too.”

Jester is visibly unsure how to respond, but she smiles at the gesture, recognizing it as kind, regardless of its specific implications. Caduceus thinks that’s fine, his meaning isn’t always as important as his intentions.

Nott looks ready to protest a present, but she can’t, not when it’s been placed in a wrapped box before her.

For Nott, Caduceus has something that was much easier for him to find, though he unfortunately had to lie to the shopkeeper to get the proportions right.

For Nott, Caduceus has something she would never choose for herself, something that she will likely need the help of her friends to truly appreciate, something that will pay off someday, when she is happy with herself, no matter what form that takes.

For Nott, Caduceus has a dress, fit for a little lady, of a shiny gold, with even shinier buttons, that may compliment green skin and bring out yellow eyes, or may just be a nice sundress for an average halfing, whatever she chooses.

Nott’s eyebrows pull together as she looks at the silky fabric sliding between her clawed fingers, caught between contempt and self pity. She looks at Caduceus with the barely concealed disappointment of accepting a lame gift but Jester grabs her shoulders and beams down at the garment.

“Oh, Nott! You’ll look so pretty in this!” Jester, wiser than she knows, softens her voice and looks at Nott carefully, “Don’t you think?”

“I,” Nott forces a smile, not one to disappoint, “If you think you so.”

Jester shakes her head and chuckles, “Come, I’ll show you.”

She pulls Nott towards the dingy little mirror of their room and puts the dress up in front of her, letting her see, twirling her around. Caduceus can’t hear everything she says, but he catches snatches of nostalgia, talk about mothers, expensive dresses, and playing princess.

“I wasn’t sure if you would be a dress sort of person, but I can always have it modified for you,” Caduceus has to sit to meet Nott’s eyes, but he doesn’t mind scooting across the floor to do it. “I’ve always found that decorating is the best way to make something your own,” he points to Jester’s pink bag and trails his fingers across his staff, where he’s made so many little changes over the years, “And a sense of style is the best way to decorate yourself. In my opinion, anyway.”

He thinks privately of Molly’s tattoos and Beau’s hair. He doesn’t mention them aloud; Nott is a smart girl, she can connect the dots herself.

Nott doesn’t look at Caduceus or the dress when she smiles, just keeps the grin to herself, coming to peace with something, here with friends. Nothing more to say.

When Caduceus stands to leave, Jester throws her arms around him, pulling him down into a warm hug, joyful smile pressed against his ear. “I’m sorry nobody got you anything, Caduceus,” she whispers, loathe to speak sadness into reality.

Caduceus only smiles and gently pries her away to look her in the eyes, eyes so full of unraveling layers of feelings far more complicated than could be labelled as mere sadness or happiness.

He thinks of every smile of the Mighty Nein, the different ways they twist across their faces. Whether they’re unrestrained or subdued, whether they’re fanged or dulled, whether they’re frequent or rare- Caduceus treasures each of them.

“Oh, Jester. You’ve all already given me wonderful gifts.”

...

Caduceus expected this. He expected this and he knew it would be a mess but not even the gods could’ve predicted just how much of a mess it would be.

Mother, help me.

“Ah!” Jester trips over a roll of garland and nearly crashes to the floor when she sees Caduceus, calmly surveying the chaos, “We didn’t expect you to be back so early!”

“Ah,” maybe he should’ve given them more of a chance then, “Should I leave and come back?”

Fjord says no at the same time Beau and Jester shout yes. Caduceus rules him outnumbered and settles on the floor outside the door, listening to a chorus of thuds, swears, and general rushing around a tiny room.

Molly is sent out to retrieve Caduceus, opening the door with a grin.

“You can come in now. Take two, everybody!”

Caduceus stands, slowly to give time for the scrambling he still hears within the room. Even with the seconds of delay, he catches the final hurry to get into place in the center of the room, Yasha in the midst of standing and Fjord in the midst of recovering from a fumble with the decorations.

“Happy Winter’s Crest, Caduceus!”

The Mighty Nein smiling brilliantly is really the main object of his attention, but his eyes rove over the hastily mounted silvery decorations all around the room, from a cheap garland to hand-made snowflakes to Jester’s drawings of snowmen and other dubious snow creatures. There’s also a present in the middle of the room, a moderately sized box covered in two different varieties of colored paper, having seemingly run out of one kind in the middle of wrapping it.

“Open it, open it!” Jester bounces up in down in an excitement the rest of the Nein fail to match, awkward looks of “mayday” exchanged between Beau, Yasha and Caleb in the back.

Caduceus dutifully tears open the packaging, revealing a box filled haphazardly with what appears to be as many herbs as one could reasonably attain in an evening, a new tea set, and a folded paper card. It has a beautiful drawing of snowmen outfitted to look like all the members of the Nein, both present and past, on the front and the signed names of everybody in the room scrawled on the inside.

“This is wonderful. Thank you, all of you.” It really is so wonderful. Thoughts of being on the wrong path are furthest from his mind at this moment, so certain in the company of these people.

Jester grins at him again and Molly steps forward, to stand with her at the front. “The night is still young! There’s more celebrating to do.”

“Yes! There’s supposed to be snow tonight, Cad! Snow! Have you ever seen snow before?” Jester’s eyes shine with the wonder of a girl from the warm coast.

“Once, I think.”

“Well, you’ve never seen snow with the Mighty Nein before!”

With visions of snowmen, snow angels and disastrous snowball fights, Caduceus follows Jester outside, feeling the others trailing them, eager for the experience, eager for the company, eager to feel joy warm them in the winter wonderland just outside this shabby inn.

If anybody is unhappy about coming back inside with melting snow dripping down their backs (Molly you traitor) and an apparently permanent layer of cold over their noses and fingers, nobody complains, too happy to see the new winter ushered in by a new family.

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