Winter's Secret Support (continued)
The evening after the ceremony found the expanded group of friends gathered in one of Beacon's larger common rooms, which they had commandeered for a private celebration away from the formal reception. The space had been transformed with comfortable cushions, string lights, and an eclectic mix of food from both Atlas and Albanahr cuisines, alongside more standard fare from Vale's best restaurants.
The atmosphere was relaxed and jubilant—a stark contrast to the carefully choreographed formality of the day's events. Ruby had kicked off her formal shoes and was sprawled across a cushion, finishing her third plate of strawberry-laden desserts. Yang lounged nearby, regaling Flare and Lazuli with her blow-by-blow account of Jacques Schnee's barely concealed frustration throughout the ceremony.
"I swear his eye was twitching when Winter signed instead of your mom," Yang said, pantomiming Jacques' rigid posture to peals of laughter.
"His face when Elder Randolph mentioned the archives!" Lazuli added, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "I thought he might actually crack that perfect business mask."
Across the room, Blake sat cross-legged beside Hailfire and Eleryc, deep in conversation about the political implications of the alliance between Atlas and Albanahr.
"The Faunus Rights groups are already speculating about how this affects their standing," Blake explained quietly. "If Atlas officially recognizes elven sovereignty, it creates precedent for other non-human governance structures."
"My father has been in talks with several Faunus leaders for months," Hailfire confirmed, his red hair catching the light as he nodded. "This alliance isn't just about Weiss and Odyn—it's about reshaping how different peoples interact across Remnant."
Eleryc leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "The timing with the Vytal Festival couldn't be better. Delegations from all kingdoms will be here to witness the aftermath of today's ceremony firsthand."
Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren had pushed several tables together and spread out maps of Vale, already planning security rotations for the upcoming festival. After today's success, they had shifted from reactive defense to proactive planning.
"If we coordinate with the elven guards who are staying for the traditional three-month period," Pyrrha suggested, indicating several key points on the map, "we can cover far more ground than originally planned."
"Plus," Nora added with characteristic enthusiasm, "nobody's going to try anything sketchy with royal elven guards patrolling. Have you seen how they move? It's like they're floating!"
Ren nodded in agreement. "Their presence changes the calculation for anyone planning to disrupt the festival."
Jaune traced a route from Beacon to the fairgrounds. "We should still maintain our original patrol schedules. Better to have redundant security than gaps."
Nearby, Jinjer, Aiko, and Scarlett were engaged in animated discussion about the ceremonial outfits, with Scarlett sketching design ideas inspired by the blend of Atlas and elven aesthetics.
"The silver embroidery on Weiss's gown was using some technique I've never seen before," Scarlett mused, her pencil moving rapidly across the page. "It seemed to catch light from angles that shouldn't have been possible."
"Starlight threading," Aiko explained. "It's an ancient elven method. My mother mentioned it once—apparently it incorporates actual fragments of dust that have been exposed to moonlight for a full cycle."
Jinjer leaned over to examine the sketch. "Think we could adapt something like this for the festival? Not as formal, but keeping that cultural blend?"
At the center of it all, Odyn and Weiss sat together on a small couch, their formal attire exchanged for comfortable clothes, though Odyn still wore the ceremonial circlet of his station. They were surrounded by Giblet, Shallot, Sarai, Zero, and Roy, all engaged in animated planning for the coming months.
"So it's official," Roy said, his expression satisfied as he raised a glass toward the engaged couple. "After years of preparation and months of anxiety, you two are formally, legally, and publicly acknowledged. How does it feel?"
Weiss's smile was genuine and relaxed—an expression her oldest friends had rarely seen before her time at Beacon. "It feels... right," she said simply, her shoulder pressed comfortably against Odyn's. "Like putting down a weight I've been carrying so long I forgot it was there."
"The real question," Giblet interjected with a mischievous grin, "is what Jacques is doing right now. Probably trying to find loopholes in the contract while surrounded by elven 'cultural attachés' who just happen to be everywhere he goes."
Shallot laughed. "Elder Randolph personally assigned Drezdan to 'assist' your father with understanding elven diplomatic protocols. He won't be able to sneeze without an elf offering a ceremonial handkerchief."
"My father has planned this moment for two decades," Odyn said, his amber eyes warm as he looked around at their gathered friends. "But even he didn't anticipate how much additional support we'd gather along the way." His gaze moved meaningfully from Team RWBY to JNPR and across all their other allies.
"Speaking of support," Sarai said, producing a scroll with an official-looking document displayed, "I just received confirmation that six more elven noble houses will be arriving for the Vytal Festival—officially as cultural participants, but really to strengthen our presence here during the transition period."
"And Winter just messaged me," Weiss added, checking her own scroll. "General Ironwood has approved extended leave for her specialist unit. They'll be stationed in Vale throughout the festival as 'additional security coordination' between Atlas and Vale forces."
"Which means," Zero observed with a knowing smile, "that Jacques is effectively surrounded—elven delegation to his front, Atlas military to his back, and international media watching his every move during a globally broadcast tournament."
Sounds of satisfaction rippled through the group. Their planning had extended far beyond just ensuring the ceremony's success—they had strategically positioned themselves for the months ahead.
Ruby bounded over from her dessert station, silver eyes bright with excitement. "So what's next? We pulled off the greatest trap in Beacon history, but the festival's still three months away. What do we do until then?"
"We train," Odyn replied simply. "The tournament isn't just a celebration—it's an opportunity to showcase the strength of our alliance through competition."
"Team RWBY is definitely making it to the finals," Ruby declared with absolute confidence. "And now that we're not spending all our time on secret planning sessions, we can focus on new combination attacks!"
"Team JNPR will give you a run for your money," Jaune called from the map table, Pyrrha nodding in agreement beside him.
The conversation quickly evolved into good-natured boasting about tournament prospects, with teams laying playful challenges and discussing potential matchups.
Weiss leaned closer to Odyn, speaking quietly beneath the growing excitement. "It's strange to think we can just... focus on normal things now. Training, classes, the tournament."
"Is that disappointment I hear?" Odyn asked with a slight smile. "Missing the intrigue already?"
"Hardly," she replied, though her own smile suggested otherwise. "But you have to admit, planning an elaborate trap for my father was more interesting than Professor Port's Grimm Studies lectures."
Odyn laughed, drawing curious glances from nearby friends. "I suspect the next three months won't be quite as uneventful as you might think. The elven delegation hasn't participated in a Vytal Festival in over a century. My people tend to approach friendly competition with... creative enthusiasm."
As if on cue, Lazuli called across the room: "Hey Odyn! Is it true the elven exhibition matches involve actual illusion magic? Lailah was telling us about something called the Moonshade Arena."
Odyn's expression turned enigmatic. "The traditional exhibitions are... difficult to describe to those who haven't witnessed them. Let's just say the upcoming festival will feature elements no one in Vale has seen before."
This sparked a new wave of excited questions and speculation that quickly engulfed the room. Plans for training sessions, cultural exchanges, and festival preparations flowed freely as the evening progressed, the earlier tension of the ceremony giving way to genuine anticipation for the months ahead.
As night deepened outside Beacon's windows, the gathered friends remained wrapped in conversation and laughter—hunters and huntresses, humans and elves, royalty and commoners united not just by circumstance but by choice. The formal alliance signed that day between Atlas and Albanahr was mirrored in miniature by the bonds of friendship that filled the room—diverse, unexpected, and stronger than any single person or prejudice could sever.
For Weiss and Odyn, watching their friends plan and celebrate around them, the contrast with their earlier fears couldn't have been more profound. Three months ago, they had worried their engagement would be forced apart by Jacques' machinations. Now, they sat surrounded by allies who had helped transform their arrangement from a political necessity into a genuine partnership, publicly acknowledged and protected by powers beyond even the SDC's reach.
The Vytal Festival still lay ahead with its own challenges and opportunities, but as Ruby launched into an elaborate description of Team RWBY's new formation attacks, with Yang adding increasingly improbable embellishments, Weiss allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment—perhaps the first time in her life she had felt truly secure in both her path forward and the people who would walk it with her.
Winter's Secret Support (continued further)
The days following the celebration flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Beacon Academy had transformed into a cultural crossroads as elven delegates integrated themselves into the daily rhythm of the school. Professor Goodwitch had reluctantly agreed to allow several elven combat instructors to hold special seminars, which quickly became the most sought-after sessions among the student body.
Morning found Ruby and Yang stretching on the training ground alongside Blake and Weiss, preparing for one such session. The rising sun cast long shadows across the field as other teams gradually assembled, everyone speaking in excited whispers.
"Did you see yesterday's demonstration?" Ruby bounced on her toes, unable to contain her excitement. "The way Elder Faelyn moved was impossible! It was like he knew where the projectiles would be before they were fired!"
Blake nodded thoughtfully. "Elven combat styles emphasize prediction and economy of movement. They've spent centuries refining techniques that work against both Grimm and other intelligent opponents."
"Well, I'm just hoping to learn that spinning blade catch Lazuli showed off," Yang said, punching the air experimentally. "Imagine combining that with my Ember Celica's recoil!"
Weiss stood slightly apart, her posture perfect as always, but her expression unusually serene. "Just remember that we're not just here to learn new fighting techniques. This cultural exchange is diplomatic as much as practical."
"Says the girl who spent three hours yesterday practicing that ice-stepping technique with Hailfire," Yang teased, nudging Weiss with her elbow.
"That's different," Weiss protested, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Elven dust application is directly relevant to my family's business."
"Speaking of family," Blake interjected, her amber eyes focusing on something beyond the training field, "isn't that your sister?"
The team turned to see Winter Schnee approaching, accompanied by Eleryc and, surprisingly, Penny Polendina. Winter's military posture contrasted sharply with Eleryc's fluid grace and Penny's enthusiastic stride.
"Good morning, sister," Winter greeted formally, though her eyes held unusual warmth. "General Ironwood has requested that I observe today's training session for potential incorporation into Atlas Academy's curriculum."
"And I am here as cultural liaison!" Penny announced brightly. "After analyzing seventeen distinct elven combat patterns, I have been deemed uniquely qualified to assist in translation between Atlas and Albanahr martial philosophies."
Ruby immediately launched herself at Penny, wrapping the android girl in a tight hug. "Penny! I didn't know you were coming to Beacon too!"
"Surprise!" Penny responded with equal enthusiasm. "My father thought this would be an excellent opportunity for me to learn more about interpersonal dynamics in a multi-cultural environment."
Eleryc smiled slightly at the display. "Miss Polendina has been instrumental in helping us document the subtle differences between our combat approaches. Her ability to precisely replicate movements after a single observation is... remarkable."
"We're actually here with a proposition," Winter continued, addressing Team RWBY collectively. "Beacon's headmaster and General Ironwood have approved a special exhibition match for the opening ceremony of the Vytal Festival—a demonstration of cooperative combat rather than competition."
"And they want us?" Ruby asked, silver eyes widening.
"Not just you," came Odyn's voice as he approached with Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren in tow. "They want to showcase the alliance in action. Teams RWBY and JNPR, fighting alongside representatives from Atlas and Albanahr."
"A sixteen-person combat demonstration," Jaune said, sounding both nervous and excited. "Against a simulated Grimm incursion that Headmaster Ozpin is personally designing."
Nora pumped her fist in the air. "It's going to be SPECTACULAR! Ren and I have already been working with Shallot and Giblet on a four-person hammer strike that will literally blow the audience away! Well, not literally-literally, but you know what I mean!"
Ren offered his characteristic subtle nod. "The combination of elven precision and Nora's... enthusiasm... has proven surprisingly effective."
"The format will be unusual," Winter explained, producing her scroll and projecting a diagram of a circular arena divided into four sections. "Four teams of four, each taking a quadrant. The objective is not to defeat each other, but to protect the central point while eliminating waves of simulated Grimm. Points are awarded for both individual eliminations and successful cooperation across team boundaries."
"It's meant to demonstrate that our strength comes from unity rather than division," Pyrrha added softly. "A rather pointed message given recent tensions between kingdoms."
"And a chance to show off in front of the entire world," Yang noted with a grin. "I'm definitely in."
"The real challenge," Eleryc said, his tone becoming more serious, "will be incorporating the different combat styles effectively. Atlas military precision, Beacon's adaptability, and elven traditional techniques don't naturally align."
"Which is exactly why we're starting training now, three months before the festival," Odyn concluded. "We need to develop true integration, not just four teams fighting in proximity."
The gathered hunters and huntresses exchanged determined looks. This wasn't just another training exercise—it was the public face of their alliance, a demonstration that different cultures could work together effectively despite their differences.
"This is going to require a lot of coordination," Blake observed. "Do we have a training schedule?"
Winter nodded approvingly at the question. "Elder Randolph and Professor Goodwitch have developed a rotating system. Each of you will spend time training with counterparts from other teams to develop cross-team maneuvers."
"I've been paired with Pyrrha for the first rotation," Weiss said, looking pleased with the arrangement. "Our semblances have interesting complementary applications."
"And I'm with Penny!" Ruby announced, high-fiving the android girl enthusiastically.
As Winter began distributing detailed schedules, the training field continued to fill with students. Team CFVY arrived, Coffee immediately engaging Lazuli in conversation about dust applications in fashion while Yatsuhashi exchanged respectful nods with several of the taller elven warriors.
Even Professor Port had appeared, regaling a politely attentive Elder Faelyn with one of his improbable hunting stories, complete with elaborate gestures that narrowly missed several passing students.
"It's strange," Jaune said quietly to Odyn as they watched the growing crowd. "A month ago, most of these people had never even seen an elf in person. Now it's like you've always been part of Beacon."
Odyn's expression turned thoughtful. "Integration has been smoother than anyone predicted. Perhaps because huntsmen and huntresses are already accustomed to working with those who are different from themselves."
"Or maybe," Weiss suggested, joining their conversation, "it's because both sides genuinely want this to succeed." She gestured toward where Ruby was now attempting to teach Penny a complicated handshake while nearby elven warriors watched with bemused interest. "This isn't just politics anymore—people are forming real connections."
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Goodwitch, who cleared her throat loudly enough to quiet the entire field. Beside her stood a tall elven woman whose silver hair was elaborately braided and adorned with small crystals that caught the morning light.
"Your attention, please," Goodwitch announced, her tone brooking no argument. "Today's session will be led by Lady Seraphine of House Moonwhisper, Third Sentinel of the Northern Reaches and Master of the Twin Blade technique. I expect each of you to show appropriate respect and attention."
Lady Seraphine stepped forward, her movements fluid and deliberate. Unlike many of the elven delegates who had adopted elements of local fashion, she wore traditional battle attire—layers of iridescent fabric reinforced with what appeared to be crystalline armor along her forearms and shoulders.
"Greetings, young warriors," she began, her voice carrying easily across the field despite its softness. "Today we begin building something unprecedented—a combat style that honors the strengths of all our traditions while transcending their individual limitations."
She drew twin blades from sheaths at her back, the metal catching the sunlight with an unusual blue tint. "To face the darkness that threatens all our peoples, we must become more than the sum of our parts."
With a gesture that seemed almost casual, she flicked one blade toward a training dummy fifty yards away. The weapon spun through the air, trailing faint blue light before embedding itself precisely in the center of the target. With her other hand, she traced a complex pattern in the air—and the distant blade responded, freeing itself and carving an elaborate symbol into the dummy before returning to her waiting hand.
A collective gasp rose from the assembled students.
"That," Lady Seraphine said with the slightest hint of a smile, "is what happens when ancient elven bladework meets Atlas magnetic dust technology. Now, let us see what other combinations we might discover together."
As the training session began in earnest, Team RWBY exchanged excited glances. The coming months would demand more of them than perhaps any challenge they had faced before—not just mastering new techniques, but learning to truly integrate their fighting styles with allies from radically different traditions.
Across the field, Jaune could be seen carefully observing the elven instructor's stance, while Nora enthusiastically described something involving explosions to an increasingly concerned-looking Ren and intrigued Shallot. Penny was already perfectly mimicking the complex blade maneuvers, while Winter and Eleryc conversed quietly, occasionally pointing toward different students with analytical expressions.
And at the center of it all, Weiss and Odyn stood side by side, their shoulders barely touching—no longer just symbols of an alliance, but active participants in bringing two worlds together.
As Ruby launched herself into the first exercise with characteristic enthusiasm, Blake leaned toward Yang with a small smile. "Remember when our biggest worry was passing Professor Oobleck's history exam?"
Yang laughed, adjusting her gauntlets. "Let's be honest—we were never meant for a quiet academic life. Besides," she added, watching as Weiss perfectly executed a maneuver that combined her glyphs with an elven stepping technique, "some people are really thriving with all this change."
"Speaking of change," Blake said, her voice dropping even lower, "have you noticed the increased security around campus? Not just the visible guards—there are patterns to when and where the elven sentinels appear."
Yang's expression turned more serious. "You think they're expecting trouble?"
"I think," Blake replied carefully, "that nobody goes to this much effort for an alliance unless they believe something bigger is coming. The question is what—and whether we'll be ready when it arrives."
Before Yang could respond, Ruby called them over, her face alight with excitement. "Come on, slowpokes! Lady Seraphine is going to demonstrate a four-person formation, and we need to be in position!"
Exchanging a meaningful glance that promised a continuation of their conversation later, Blake and Yang joined their teammates. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—not just as Team RWBY, but as part of something larger that was taking shape around them with each passing day.
The morning sun climbed higher as blades flashed and semblances activated across the training field, the diverse styles of combat beginning the long process of becoming something new—something that, perhaps, would prove stronger than any of them had been alone.
# Winter's Secret Support (Relationship Dynamics)
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Beacon's courtyard as Yang and Blake claimed a bench beneath a blooming cherry tree. Training had concluded for the day, leaving most students exhausted but exhilarated from Lady Seraphine's intensive combat session. The pair had begged off from Ruby and Weiss's invitation to the library, preferring instead to enjoy the rare moment of peace.
"Ten lien says Weiss isn't actually researching dust applications," Yang said, stretching her arms above her head before settling into a comfortable slouch. "She just wants to show Odyn that ancient text she found about elven glyph techniques."
Blake smiled slightly, her amber eyes tracking the various groups dispersing across the courtyard. "That's not a bet I'm willing to take. They're barely even trying to hide their study dates anymore."
"Speaking of barely hiding things," Yang nudged Blake's shoulder, directing her attention toward where Ruby stood near the fountain, engaged in animated conversation with a tall young man whose auburn hair caught the sunlight. Though he lacked Odyn's formal bearing, the family resemblance between the brothers was unmistakable.
"Look at them," Yang said, her voice softening with affection. "Ruby's doing that thing where she gestures so wildly she nearly hits herself in the face."
Blake nodded. "And Roy just stands there looking completely captivated by whatever weapon modification she's describing in excruciating detail."
They watched as Ruby pantomimed what appeared to be an elaborate scythe maneuver, nearly losing her balance in the process. Roy's hand shot out to steady her, lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary on her shoulder. Even from a distance, the faint blush coloring Ruby's cheeks was visible.
"It's like watching Weiss and Odyn in reverse," Blake observed. "Instead of political maneuvering and formal courtship, it's all weapon schematics and combat strategies."
"But the end result looks suspiciously similar," Yang agreed. "Have you noticed how Roy always positions himself between Ruby and any potential threat? It's subtle—I doubt Ruby's even realized he's doing it."
Blake's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Just like Odyn used to do with Weiss before they were official. The elven protective stance—one foot slightly forward, dominant hand always free to reach a weapon."
"Thallion family trait, apparently," Yang mused. "Though I have to say, seeing my little sister with the prince's brother wasn't on my bingo card for this semester."
"They make sense, in an unexpected way," Blake said thoughtfully. "Roy lacks the formal responsibilities that weigh on Odyn. He can match Ruby's enthusiasm without the constant awareness of political consequences."
As if to illustrate her point, Ruby suddenly produced a small mechanical component from her pocket, presenting it to Roy with the reverence others might reserve for precious gems. His face lit up with genuine interest as he examined it closely, asking questions that made Ruby bounce excitedly on her toes.
"Ten more lien says she's going to drag him to the workshop within the next five minutes," Yang wagered.
Blake checked the time on her scroll. "Three minutes, maximum. She's been wanting to show him that dust compression modification since breakfast."
Sure enough, barely two minutes later, Ruby was tugging Roy by the sleeve toward Beacon's technical workshops, both of them wearing matching expressions of mechanical enthusiasm. As they disappeared around a corner, Yang's gaze drifted across the courtyard, lingering momentarily on a tall, silver-haired elf speaking with Professor Oobleck near the academy entrance.
Blake followed her line of sight and raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly subtle yourself, you know."
Yang feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Eleryc," Blake said flatly. "You've volunteered for every diplomatic security detail he's been assigned to for the past three weeks."
"He's technically royalty," Yang protested. "And I'm technically amazing at security."
"And technically oblivious to how he looks at you when you're sparring," Blake added with uncharacteristic bluntness. "For someone so perceptive about Ruby's love life, you're remarkably blind to your own."
Yang's expression shifted from feigned innocence to genuine surprise. "What do you mean, how he looks at me?"
Blake sighed. "Eleryc is from House Moonwhisper—the same as Lady Seraphine. They're traditionalists among the elven nobility. He won't make the first move because in their culture, it would be presumptuous for him to approach someone of your... distinctive lineage."
"My what now?" Yang blinked in confusion.
"Your eyes, Yang," Blake explained patiently. "When they turn red during combat. Several of the elven delegates were discussing it after your sparring match last week. In their culture, those with changing eye colors are considered touched by ancient magic—potential oracles or seers. Eleryc probably thinks pursuing you would be like a commoner pursuing royalty."
Yang stared at Blake in disbelief. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. How do you even know this?"
A slight flush colored Blake's cheeks. "I might have been spending some time in the library with Shallot and Giblet. They've been teaching me about elven cultural nuances in exchange for information about Faunus history."
Yang's expression turned sly. "Speaking of Shallot and Giblet—you three seem awfully cozy lately. Anything you want to share with your partner?"
"It's not like that," Blake said quickly, though her ears twitched slightly beneath her bow—a tell Yang had learned to recognize. "They're... comfortable to be around. They don't ask invasive questions about my past, but they understand what it's like to be viewed as 'other' by mainstream society."
"So it's just cultural exchange?" Yang pressed, clearly unconvinced.
Blake hesitated. "It's... complicated. Elven perspectives on relationships are different. Less binary. Shallot and Giblet have been partners for decades, but their connection isn't exclusive in the way humans typically define relationships."
"Oh." Yang's eyes widened with realization. "Oh! So you're considering..."
"I'm considering nothing," Blake interjected hastily. "I'm just... learning about different possibilities. Their approach to connection is fascinating—built on deep understanding and complementary strengths rather than romantic conventions."
Yang held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, no judgment here. I just want you to be happy. And for what it's worth, they both light up like dust crystals whenever you walk into a room."
Blake allowed herself a small smile at that. "We're taking things slowly. Very slowly. There's too much happening right now for complicated entanglements."
"Speaking of complicated," Yang said, her tone dropping as she nodded toward the eastern courtyard where a silver-haired young man in a Haven Academy uniform leaned against a column, apparently deep in conversation with Princess Sarai Thallion. "What do you make of that particular development?"
Blake's expression immediately sharpened. "Mercury Black. Cinder's team." Her eyes narrowed as she observed the easy familiarity between Sarai and Mercury. "That doesn't look like a first conversation."
"Definitely not," Yang agreed, her protective instincts visibly stirring. "Should we be concerned? Mercury's team has always given me weird vibes, and Sarai is Odyn's sister..."
They watched as Sarai laughed at something Mercury said, her typical composed demeanor softening into genuine amusement. For his part, Mercury's usual smirk had transformed into something closer to a genuine smile—an expression neither Yang nor Blake had ever seen on him before.
"I'm not sure what to think," Blake admitted. "Sarai is no naive princess—she's been handling diplomatic complexity since childhood. If anyone can handle themselves around Mercury, it's probably her."
Yang nodded slowly. "True. And she's always struck me as an excellent judge of character. Maybe she sees something in him that we don't."
"Or maybe," Blake suggested cautiously, "she's playing a longer game. The elven delegation has been gathering intelligence since they arrived. Sarai specifically requested information about all the visiting students competing in the tournament."
As they watched, Sarai handed Mercury a small object that caught the sunlight—some kind of crystalline pendant. He examined it briefly before slipping it into his pocket with uncharacteristic care, his expression unreadable from this distance.
"Well, that's definitely something," Yang murmured. "Should we mention it to Weiss and Odyn?"
"They probably already know," Blake replied. "Nothing happens in this alliance without Odyn's awareness, and Weiss has been surprisingly well-informed about everything lately."
Yang was about to respond when her attention was drawn to perhaps the most unexpected pairing of all—Cardin Winchester walking alongside a tall young woman with striking features that resembled Qrow Branwen's to an uncanny degree, despite her obviously elven heritage. Khanna Branwen-Moonwhisper moved with the fluid grace characteristic of elven nobility, but there was an undeniable echo of Qrow's casual confidence in her posture.
"Now there's a pair I never would have predicted," Yang said, genuine surprise coloring her voice. "Cardin Winchester and Qrow's secret daughter? How did that even happen?"
"Redemption arc," Blake suggested with surprising conviction. "Cardin's been different since the Forever Fall incident with Jaune. And from what I've heard, Khanna specializes in second chances."
"Still," Yang protested, "this is Cardin we're talking about. Mr. 'Faunus-should-be-leashed' Winchester."
"And there he is, carrying books for a half-elven woman while looking at her like she hung the shattered moon," Blake pointed out. "People change, Yang. Sometimes they just need the right motivation."
They observed as Khanna said something that made Cardin duck his head in what appeared to be embarrassment—an expression entirely at odds with his formerly perpetual sneer. When he looked up again, there was a vulnerability in his expression that transformed his entire demeanor.
"Weiss and Odyn. Ruby and Roy. You and potentially Eleryc. Me and... whatever's happening with Shallot and Giblet. Sarai and Mercury. Khanna and Cardin." Yang ticked off the connections on her fingers, shaking her head in wonder. "Is there something in the water at Beacon?"
"I think," Blake said softly, "it's what happens when people from different worlds are suddenly thrust together in the face of common challenges. Boundaries blur. Unexpected connections form."
"Or maybe," Yang suggested with a playful smile, "it's all part of some elaborate elven matchmaking conspiracy. They show up at Beacon with their fancy magic and mysterious traditions, and suddenly everyone's finding their perfect match."
Blake rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite suppress a smile. "Yes, I'm sure creating romantic entanglements was the primary goal of a diplomatic mission generations in the making."
"You never know," Yang insisted. "Maybe love is the ultimate diplomatic strategy."
As the afternoon light began to fade, students gradually made their way back toward the dormitories. Across the courtyard, Weiss and Odyn emerged from the library, walking close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed. Ruby and Roy returned from the workshop, both covered in mechanical grease but wearing identical expressions of triumph. Somewhere in the distance, Nora's distinctive laughter rang out, followed by what sounded suspiciously like an explosion.
"Just another day at Beacon," Yang said contentedly, stretching her arms above her head. "Except now with bonus elven royalty, secret relationships, and whatever that explosion was."
"Speaking of which," Blake replied, rising to her feet, "we should probably make sure Nora hasn't accidentally declared war on a neighboring kingdom."
As they headed toward the source of the commotion, Yang casually asked, "So, about Eleryc... you really think he's interested?"
Blake simply smiled. "For someone who practices punching Grimm into oblivion, you can be surprisingly timid. Talk to him. The worst that happens is you learn some fascinating elven courtship rejection rituals."
"Always the optimist," Yang laughed, throwing an arm around her partner's shoulders. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, you're explaining to Ruby why her sister is trying to date her boyfriend's brother's best friend."
"Relationships at Beacon have officially become more complicated than Professor Oobleck's timeline of the Great War," Blake observed dryly.
"And honestly?" Yang added with a genuine smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
As they rejoined their friends, the web of connections—some obvious, some still forming in quiet moments and shared glances—continued to strengthen. Whatever challenges the Vytal Festival might bring, the bonds forming now would prove to be either their greatest vulnerability or their strongest asset. Only time would tell which.
Winter's Secret Support (A Quiet Moment)
Sunset painted Beacon's western tower in shades of amber and gold, casting long shadows across the small garden terrace where Weiss and Odyn had found temporary sanctuary from the day's relentless activities. The secluded space, with its carefully tended flowers and ornate stone benches, had become their unofficial retreat over the past weeks—a place where titles and obligations could be momentarily set aside.
Weiss sat with perfect posture despite the informal setting, her white dress arranged carefully around her as she reviewed notes from the day's diplomatic briefings. Beside her, Odyn had adopted a more relaxed stance, one arm stretched along the back of the bench, his amber eyes watching the changing colors of the sky with quiet appreciation.
"Lady Seraphine was impressed with your progress today," Odyn remarked, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "She rarely offers commendations to non-elven students."
Weiss looked up from her notes, a small smile playing at her lips. "The rotational glyph technique isn't entirely dissimilar to some of the Schnee family semblance applications, though I never considered using it quite that way before."
"Your adaptability continues to surprise even those who've spent centuries perfecting their techniques," Odyn said, unmistakable pride warming his voice. "My father mentioned it in his last communication—the elders are already discussing how your approach could be incorporated into our traditional forms."
"Now you're just flattering me," Weiss replied, though pleasure at the compliment colored her cheeks slightly.
"I never flatter," Odyn said seriously, though a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "Diplomatic necessity occasionally requires selective emphasis of certain truths, but never outright flattery."
Weiss laughed softly, setting her notes aside. "A distinction worthy of the heir to Albanahr." Her expression sobered slightly. "Speaking of diplomatic necessities, Winter sent an encrypted message this morning. My father has been making inquiries into ancient Atlas marriage statutes."
Odyn's expression didn't change, but his posture straightened almost imperceptibly. "Looking for loopholes, as we expected."
"Winter believes he's focusing on an obscure provision regarding familial consent requirements for cross-cultural unions," Weiss continued, her voice calm despite the implications. "Apparently, there's precedent from nearly a century ago that he thinks might provide grounds for nullification."
Odyn considered this information, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the stone bench between them. "Did Winter provide the specific statute reference?"
"Section 47.B of the Atlas Intercultural Relations Code," Weiss recited from memory. "Though she noted that it was rendered largely obsolete by the Treaty of Solitas thirty years ago."
"Ah," Odyn's expression cleared, unexpected humor replacing his concern. "Then your father is grasping at particularly insubstantial straws."
Weiss raised an elegant eyebrow in question.
"That particular section," Odyn explained, "was specifically addressed during the preliminary negotiations between our kingdoms. Elder Randolph insisted on its formal repeal as a precondition to even beginning discussions about our potential union." His lips curved into a subtle smile. "My people have long memories, Weiss. The provisions your father is investigating were originally created to prevent exactly the kind of alliance we now represent."
"So he's researching laws that no longer exist," Weiss said, satisfaction evident in her voice.
"Laws that were ceremonially burned in the presence of representatives from all four kingdoms," Odyn confirmed. "There's even a rather dramatic painting of the event hanging in my father's study."
Weiss shook her head, a mixture of resignation and determination crossing her features. "He won't stop. Even with the laws changed, the ceremony completed, and public opinion firmly in our favor—he'll keep searching for ways to regain control."
"I would expect nothing less," Odyn replied calmly. "Your father's persistence is legendary. But so is our preparation." He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against hers on the bench between them. "We have Winter's support, General Ironwood's backing, and a significant portion of both Atlas and Mantle standing with us. If Jacques moves against our engagement now, or if his schemes come to light..."
"There would be outrage," Weiss finished his thought. "Not just from your people, but from the Faunus communities and humans across Remnant. The alliance represents hope for many who've felt excluded from traditional power structures."
"Precisely." Odyn's fingers entwined with hers more firmly now. "Which is why, despite his continued efforts, I find myself less concerned with Jacques Schnee's machinations than I am with ensuring everything is prepared for when you finally meet Lyra."
The sudden change in topic brought Weiss's full attention to his face. "Your youngest sister? The one still in Albanahr?"
Odyn nodded, his expression softening visibly. "She's twelve now—though she'd be quite indignant at being called a child. Her last message was full of questions about you. I believe her exact words were 'If my new sister-to-be can really create ice structures with a gesture, I demand immediate and comprehensive demonstration upon her arrival.'"
The term "sister-to-be" caught Weiss by surprise, a complicated emotion flickering across her face. "She's already thinking of me as family?"
"Lyra has always been... decisive in her attachments," Odyn said with affection. "From the moment the alliance was proposed, she declared you her future sister and began researching everything she could find about the Schnee family semblance. She's particularly fascinated by your summoning ability."
A small furrow appeared between Weiss's brows. "I hope she won't be disappointed. My summoning is still inconsistent at best."
"Disappointment is not in Lyra's nature," Odyn assured her. "If anything, she'll view it as an opportunity to help you practice. She's remarkably determined when she decides to assist someone."
"She sounds nothing like my own sister," Weiss observed, though there was no bitterness in the comparison.
"In some ways, perhaps not," Odyn conceded. "Winter's strength lies in her discipline and precision. Lyra is... a force of nature. Unpredictable, brilliant, occasionally exasperating, but always sincere." A fond smile touched his lips. "She reminds me somewhat of your teammate Ruby, though with several centuries of elven tradition attempting—largely unsuccessfully—to temper her enthusiasm."
"This explains why you've never seemed particularly fazed by Ruby's energy," Weiss realized, amusement coloring her voice.
"After growing up with Lyra, very little can truly surprise me," Odyn admitted. "Though I should warn you—she's already planning your visit to our homeland in extensive detail. The last communication from my father mentioned something about Lyra rearranging the entire east wing of the palace to 'better reflect Atlesian aesthetic sensibilities.'"
"She hasn't even met me," Weiss said, genuine wonder in her voice.
"That's Lyra," Odyn replied simply. "She forms connections before meetings, preparations before necessities, and opinions long before evidence. Yet somehow, she's rarely wrong in her assessments." His expression grew more thoughtful. "She was the first in our family to support the alliance, you know. Even before my father or the elders had fully considered the proposal."
"What made her so certain?" Weiss asked.
Odyn's amber eyes met hers directly. "She said she had a dream of Albanahr covered in snow that didn't melt—but rather than bringing cold, it preserved everything it touched." His voice softened. "In our culture, such dreams are not dismissed lightly, particularly from those of Lyra's lineage."
The implication hung between them—not just political alliance, but something deeper, perhaps even fated. Weiss, usually quick to dismiss anything approaching superstition, found herself unexpectedly moved by the image.
"I look forward to meeting her," Weiss said finally, sincerity replacing her usual careful diplomacy.
"She's the reason I never doubted this would succeed," Odyn admitted quietly. "Even when the negotiations seemed impossible, when your father placed obstacle after obstacle in our path—I remembered Lyra's absolute certainty, and it gave me strength to continue."
The sun had nearly disappeared now, the garden falling into deeper shadow as lights began to illuminate across Beacon's campus. Neither made any move to leave their sanctuary, however, the rare moment of privacy too precious to surrender.
"Tell me more about her," Weiss requested, turning slightly to face Odyn more directly. "What does she look like? What are her interests beyond my apparently fascinating semblance?"
Odyn's expression brightened at the invitation. "She has our mother's coloring—hair so pale it appears almost silver in certain lights, though with our father's amber eyes. She's small for her age by elven standards, which is a constant source of frustration for her, particularly since both Roy and Sarai took after our father's height."
"I can sympathize," Weiss said wryly, being the shortest member of her own team.
"As for her interests—music, primarily. She plays the starlight harp, an instrument traditionally reserved for those three times her age, yet she mastered it by her tenth year." Pride was evident in his voice. "She's also fascinated by history—not the formal lessons our tutors provide, but the stories behind the facts. She's constantly badgering the elders for personal accounts of historical events, preferably the details omitted from official records."
"She sounds remarkable," Weiss said softly.
"She is," Odyn agreed. "And terribly impatient to meet you. In her last message, she suggested—quite seriously—that she might 'borrow' one of the royal transports and make the journey to Beacon herself if the diplomatic schedule didn't include her visit soon enough."
"Would she actually do that?" Weiss asked, torn between amusement and alarm.
"Without hesitation," Odyn confirmed with a soft laugh. "Though fortunately, my father has anticipated this possibility. Lyra's personal guard has been doubled, ostensibly as an honor befitting her recent academic achievements."
Weiss shook her head in wonder. "And I thought keeping track of Ruby's impulsive decisions was challenging."
"The difference," Odyn noted with good humor, "is that Ruby acts on impulse. Lyra meticulously plans her apparent spontaneity weeks in advance." His expression grew more serious. "She will be at the Vytal Festival, though. My father agreed that her presence was important, both symbolically and personally. She'll arrive with the second delegation, approximately two weeks before the tournament begins."
"Then we have time to prepare," Weiss said, unconsciously falling into her organizational mindset. "I should learn more about elven customs regarding younger siblings. Are there specific protocols for formal introductions? Should I prepare a gift? Would—"
Her planning was interrupted by Odyn's gentle laughter. "The only protocol Lyra will care about is authenticity," he assured her. "Formal manners disappear remarkably quickly in her presence."
Weiss relaxed slightly, though a hint of nervousness remained. "I want her to like me," she admitted, the simple honesty of the statement revealing its importance.
"She already does," Odyn replied with certainty. "But more importantly, she's determined to love you, simply because you're important to me." He hesitated, then added more softly, "That's the thing about Lyra—she loves wholly, without reservation or calculation. It's what makes her both wonderful and occasionally terrifying."
"Terrifying?" Weiss echoed questioningly.
"She feels everything deeply," Odyn explained. "Joy becomes celebration, disappointment becomes devastation, curiosity becomes obsession. There's very little middle ground in Lyra's emotional landscape."
"That sounds exhausting," Weiss observed, thinking of her own carefully maintained self-control.
"It can be," Odyn acknowledged. "But it's also extraordinarily refreshing. Lyra reminds us all what it means to experience the world without the filters of politics or propriety." A fond smile touched his lips. "I think perhaps that's why she's so eager to meet you. In you, she sees someone who has had to maintain similar controls, but for very different reasons."
The observation struck closer to home than Weiss had expected. The careful restraint that had defined her childhood had been born of her father's expectations and her own determination to be perfect. The thought that Odyn's sister might see through those layers both unsettled and intrigued her.
"Jacques will hate her," Weiss said suddenly, the realization bringing an unexpected smile to her face.
"Undoubtedly," Odyn agreed with matching amusement. "She represents everything he's tried to suppress—emotional authenticity, unrestrained enthusiasm, and absolute disregard for hierarchical authority."
"Now I'm looking forward to their meeting," Weiss said, a hint of mischief in her voice that would have surprised her teammates.
Odyn's expression grew more serious. "Whatever schemes your father might still be planning, whatever legal loopholes he thinks he's found—when you meet Lyra, I think you'll understand why I've never truly feared his interference."
"Because of a twelve-year-old's dream about snow?" Weiss asked, her tone gently questioning rather than dismissive.
"Because family—real family—creates bonds that transcend contracts and politics," Odyn replied. "The agreement between our kingdoms may have begun as strategic necessity, but what's growing now..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Has roots too deep to be easily uprooted," Weiss finished for him, understanding perfectly what he meant. It wasn't just about their personal relationship anymore, but the connections forming between their worlds—Ruby and Roy, Yang and Eleryc, the unlikely friendships and alliances blooming across cultural divides.
"Precisely," Odyn said softly. "Jacques sees only the contract, the business implications, the power dynamics. He cannot comprehend what happens when people form genuine bonds across the boundaries he considers so important."
"His shortsightedness has always been his greatest weakness," Weiss agreed. "Even his obsession with the Schnee name blinds him to what that name could truly represent."
Night had fully claimed the garden now, the shattered moon casting silver light across the terrace. From somewhere distant came the sound of laughter—Ruby's distinctive giggle followed by what was unmistakably Yang's voice raised in playful protest.
"We should join the others soon," Weiss said, though she made no move to rise. "Professor Goodwitch scheduled an early briefing for tomorrow's coordination exercise."
"A few more minutes," Odyn suggested, his fingers still entwined with hers. "Diplomatic obligations can wait a little longer."
As they sat together in the moonlit garden, the future stretched before them—filled with challenges, certainly, but also possibilities neither could have imagined when their arrangement was first proposed. Jacques Schnee might continue his machinations in Atlas, searching for legal technicalities and leverage points, but here in this moment, his influence seemed remarkably distant and increasingly irrelevant.
The true power lay not in contracts or political maneuvering, but in the connections forming around them—connections that would soon include a silver-haired, amber-eyed twelve-year-old with an unshakable belief in snow that preserved rather than chilled.
And for now, that knowledge was enough.
To be continued in Chapter 16: The Beacon Dance, The Vytal Festival, and a Hidden Plot?!