On My Way To You (ch3)

EARLY RELEASE FOR ALL PATRONS! THANK YOU!

Thanks for your patience as I continue writing other stories and updating this one. As I'd noted in the previous chapter's notes, this chapter will be entirely from Weiss' point of view. This chapter is dedicated to moonwatcher13 for their help and support!

WARNING because this chapter contains implied parental abuse/mistreatment.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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												Chapter 3. Prison In The Tower

Weiss was scared.

And she didn't truly think she should be, not when she was protected by her father's mansion and security now, while all the rest of Remnant was teetering on the edge of uncertainty.

Grimm were still crawling through the streets of some places, while the foundations of others were weak and crumbling. People were terrified at the possibility of war breaking out between the kingdoms. Others were spending every waking second looking over their shoulders, fearing terrorist attacks.

And here she was, locked away in her own room for safekeeping, like some kind of doll.

Or more accurately, prisoner.

She didn't feel safe at all. In fact, she would much rather be out there, in the center of the turmoil with the rest of the world, so long as that meant she could be with her friends again, and know they were okay.

Because she didn't know if they were.

It had been several days, nearly a week now, since she had left Beacon.

No. Since she'd been taken from Beacon.

As she lay in bed that quiet morning, Weiss' mind was assaulted by the replaying memories once again.

She'd been fending off the Grimm, trying to keep them from pursuing Ruby up the side of the tower, fighting with everything she had down to the last drop of her aura and energy.

Then, the white light had appeared - blinding, unnatural, and terrifying - its source exactly where her partner was supposed to be.

Weiss had tried to get to her. She'd forced her way through the hoard of Grimm and reached the tower herself.

But even before she could cast a glyph for herself, the ominous thudding of rudders cutting through air had frozen her in place. His men had shot the Grimm around her as the air ship had landed, and they'd hurried out to surround her.

But it hadn't been for her protection. It had been for her detainment.

And then her father had stepped out and approached her in that intimidating way of his.

It had always struck fear within her heart, ever since she could remember. She'd never once looked up to him in an admiring sense; she'd only ever looked away from him.

And he'd ridiculed her for her choice in profession yet again, in front of everyone present, which had included some of her fellow classmates not far away.

He'd demanded she get on board his ship. She'd refused, and he'd stricken her.

And then he'd ordered his men to drag her on board.

And despite the consequences she knew would be coming for opposing his wishes, she hadn't gone quietly.

She'd gone kicking and screaming, begging him to let her go to her partner, just to see if she were okay.

Her father had only barely managed to maintain his composure while within sight of the public.

But as soon as those air ship doors had closed behind him, he'd stricken her again for her disobedience. She'd never forget the awful words he'd said to her then:

"You are nothing but a foolish child. You are incapable of making the correct decisions for yourself, therefore I will be making them for you from now on. You are never to train as a huntress again. That little delusion of a dream is over for you. You've had your fun wasting my money on that ridiculous school. It's time you learn your place."

His stinging words ran through her mind again now, each one as poignant and painful as the first time she'd heard them. They struck her heart as individual blows, making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Presently, she began to cry, tucking her face into her pillow to stifle the sounds.

She'd only been back here for a few days, and she'd already lost count of how many times she'd broken down.

She didn't want to be here. Anywhere but here.

This wasn't home. This was just a place with walls and locks on the doors. She would've felt safer out in the snowy Grimm-infested forests.

Someone had treated her injuries on the flight back to Atlas. She knew it had been ordered, not because her father cared for her wellbeing, but because he'd already risked his appearance enough that day; he couldn't afford anyone seeing her battered like that.

She hadn't even left her room since she'd been brought back here and pushed inside to hear the defiant click of the lock behind her.

Every day, she toiled away the hours, trying to make the time useful by practicing her skills. Myrtenaster had been left within her possession, and she worked on very basic techniques, wielding and glyph casting, whatever the limits of her room would allow.

In addition to that, she was constantly charging and checking her scroll in case of a miracle.

But no such miracle ever came.

Every night, she'd retreat to her personal bathroom, the only place where her father had never once stepped foot inside. She'd shower for hours, standing beneath the flow of hot water until it burned her skin.

At Beacon, she'd used to sing softly, knowing a small hum of her tune might reach out into the dorm room and make her teammates smile.

But now she only wept, bitterly and hopelessly, letting the water drown out the sounds of her sorrow.

After stepping out and changing, she'd try to open her door, to no avail each time. It was locked from the outside, not to keep her safe, but to keep her under control.

Under his control. Like she'd always been.

A maid came by twice a day to bring her food and water. Weiss hadn't touched any of it so far.

Now, she glanced over at her desk, where the untouched food items from previous days still sat, cold and tasteless now.

With weary slowness, Weiss pushed herself up, removing the blankets from her lap and slipping her legs over the edge of her bed. Her stomach growled again, as it had been doing for the past two days and nights. She knew she couldn't go on like this, surviving off of water and the barest minimum of crumbs.

Shakily, she made her way to the desk and pawed through the food sitting there. Some of it could still be salvageable. She selected a red apple, lifting it to her lips and biting off a piece.

What should have been a sweet flavor now seemed bitter and stinging, hardly a welcome relief to her parched throat and neglected stomach.

She only allowed herself a few more bites, sickeningly aware that her body wouldn't be able to accept any more than that. She dropped the remainder of the fruit back onto the tray just as a knock came at her door.

Weiss said nothing by means of granting permission to enter, but a maid entered anyway, holding another tray of food. Weiss turned her back on the woman coldly.

"You may take it away. All of it."

"But, Miss Schnee, your father-"

"Didn't you hear me? I said take it away."

"...Yes, ma'am."

Weiss didn't so much as budge the entire time the maid was in the room with her. She listened to the sounds of footsteps and clinking trays as the woman took the untouched food away, stacking everything to balance on her forearm. As she was leaving, the woman made one last comment.

"Please dress and prepare yourself. Your father wishes to see you."

As soon as the door had closed behind her, Weiss stiffened, inhaling sharply.

/Why? He's had me locked up here all this time and hasn't once wanted to see me. Why today? Why now?/

She could only speculate. Was he going to yell at her for refusing to eat? Weiss couldn't think what this could be about, but she knew she was going to exploit this opportunity to the best of her abilities.

In the bathroom, she freshened up and dressed herself in her combat skirt and bolero. She didn't know what her father had in mind for her, but she took Myrtenaster with her in case he was sending her off somewhere immediately.

/Maybe he'll send me back to Beacon after all. I've clearly shown him that my presence in this house is doing him more harm than good./

She brushed through her hair only briefly before purposefully tying it up in that same, asymmetrical, imperfect style that had always irked him so much.

She waited at her door until it was unlocked and she was allowed to step foot outside for the first time in days.

She folded her hands in front of her as she walked, keeping her chin and head low. She wished that some day she might be able to walk as confidently as Winter, with her head high and arms behind her back. But Weiss wasn't confident enough for that - not when facing her father.

She was brought to his office, where the maid announced her arrival. Her father grunted for her to enter alone.

Weiss steeled herself, attempting to erase any visible signs of her discomfort. She moved her arms a bit to make her posture seem more formal and less defensive, lifted her head a bit, and kept a neutral expression on her face, her eyes focused.

Outside, she may have pulled off the act. But inside, her empty stomach was twisting, the blood was pounding in her veins, and her heart was thumping erratically.

She entered the room to find her father standing in front of his desk, looking down upon her as he always did, his eyes narrowed and sharp.

Weiss paused a considerable distance away from him, not wanting to get any closer than she had to. She refused to bow her head, but she couldn't look him in the eye, either. So she settled for visually tracing the outline of his tie as she mustered up her voice.

"You wanted to see me, Father?"

She did her best to sound composed, imagining what Winter might've done if she were here.

The dreaded sound of his footsteps reached her ears as he approached her, and it was all Weiss could do to hold her ground.

"I'd like to know why you're still being so childish. Refusing meals? When I went through all that trouble of having them made and delivered? How rude of you. How ungrateful."

His words were level and almost calm. Weiss felt she would have preferred if he'd just exploded into a fit of anger and yelling. Somehow, this quieter rage was twice as terrifying and traumatizing.

He'd fallen silent for a moment, desiring a response from her, but Weiss didn't give him what he wanted. She merely remained silent, which to him, was a sign of defiance and insolence.

He waited a moment longer, knowing she didn't intend to speak, but wanting the pressure of silence to weigh down on her even more heavily to frighten her. It was just another way he kept control.

Weiss knew his tactics, and time after time she told herself she wouldn't let herself be affected by them.

But she wasn't Winter. She wasn't confident and strong on her own. No matter how much she liked to deny it, she was still afraid of her father, especially when he was as furious as he was now.

And right now, there was nothing else for him to target aside from her.

She was always being hunted, even within her own house.

But she'd rather be able to run and hide than be frozen in a trap like this.

The awful silence dragged on as she looked anywhere but up at him. Her face still ached from the last time he'd stricken her, and she feared making any sounds other than the ones he wanted to hear. She didn't even swallow for fear of trembling and choking, and her mouth was too dry anyway.

At the very least, he turned and walked away from her, back towards his desk.

Weiss stayed put, having been given no indication that she was meant to follow him.

But she did watch as he reached for something that had previously been out of sight.

He picked it up, and Weiss could just barely tell what it was.

Clothes on a hanger, a neat, gray dress and pants – more specifically, a uniform.

She took a step back.

/No-/

"In spite of your refusal to comply to my wishes," he said. "I've decided to give you no other options this time. You've defied me enough times already, running off to Beacon. Well, I hope you've had your fun, because it's over now. You're going to begin proper training for a proper profession at Atlas Academy starting in two days' time. You'll be leaving tomorrow. Pack your things.

"You'll be sent away for the first semester where you'll live at the dorms there. Not only are their classes continuing despite the crisis, but they'll also be moving students to classified locations to ensure security."

With the uniform in-hand, he approached her once again. "You're to prepare your things tonight and be ready for departure by tomorrow at noon. Once there, you'll be assigned your dorm and spend the night, then begin classes the morning after.

"There, you'll be learning important life skills and business management, not some fairytale fighting nonsense. You'd best change your mindset and start to grow up, because no matter what it is you want to do, you have a duty to this family to be the next head of Schnee Dust, and that is what you're going to do."

He stopped right in front of her, his presence demanding she look him in the eye to ensure she understood what was being said to her.

Weiss dug her teeth deeper into her lip and refused to look up. She could feel the sting of tears rising up, and she absolutely refused to cry in front of him. She already displayed conformation to him in multiple ways, but tears were the ultimate sign of weakness.

Still, he waited for a response.

"Well? Have you understood? You should realize how superior Atlas is compared to all of the other kingdoms. Despite the communication crisis and the political matters, our main focus is still to train and educate our students. Unlike Beacon."

/Stop. Just shut up. You don't know anything.../

Her heart thudded thickly in her chest, and she couldn't tell if it was more from fury or fear. Her blood was boiling as she was forced to listen to him degrade the school she loved, where she'd met so many wonderful people and had the best days of her life with them.

She had half a mind to snap then and there, to shout in his face and accept whatever consequences it might've brought her.

But she wasn't even given the time to build up the courage to do such a thing.

Because in the next second, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

It made her jolt – violently – her body instinctively reacting to his touch, always expecting it to become painful. She felt his fingers curling into the fabrics of her bolero, until her arm began to ache.

"Ridiculous," he growled. "I can't believe you dared to show yourself to me wearing this. You still believe you're going to be a huntress, do you? Well, you can forget that fantasy. It's over."

The next thing she knew, there was pain radiating through her left shoulder and arm where he'd touched her. His arm yanked on the material of her jacket, forcing it off of her, baring her arms and shoulders.

It was horrifying, to be physically stripped of one of her defense barriers, an article of clothing that had served to keep her safe now missing. She felt so vulnerable, so exploited.

She didn't think about her reaction.

She didn't have the time or mindset to consider and weigh the outcomes.

For once, she just reacted on instinct.

"Don't touch me!"

She swiped out her arm and grabbed her bolero back from him, then retreated to the doors. Not waiting to see or hear a response from him, she fled the room, shoving through the doors and pelting down the hallways to the staircase.

She stumbled every other step, her shaking legs now tripping repeatedly, her knees and shins scraping against the hard marble of the edges.

She didn't know what he might be doing, if he was right behind her. Adrenaline and fear fueled her, forcing her onward as she scrambled unceremoniously up the final few steps, and then took off running once again.

She ran until her legs gave out, until her palms slammed against her own door and pushed inside. She fell to her knees, unable to stand for a minute longer, her misplaced bolero now crumpled in her lap.

She was vaguely aware of the open door behind herself, and she crawled back towards it to push it closed.

For once, the click of that lock sounded less dreadful and more satisfying.

If it was somehow possible, she now felt both trapped and somewhat safe at the same time.

It didn't make sense.

But even the faint sense of security she was feeling from being locked prisoner in her own room was twisted. It just meant that her situation was infinitely worse than it had been before.

Because before, she'd only been scared enough to feel trapped.

But now, she was scared enough to feel safe in such a terribly threatening place.

This was bad. This was horrible.

Weiss drew her legs close to her chest and wept into her knees, her quivering fingers still clutching meekly at her jacket. She curled in on herself against the cold, hard, unforgiving door, shivering uncontrollably from more than just the cold marble.

But her sobs were quiet, private sounds of her torment.

She was sure to stifle each and every one of them, swallowing down what she could and muffling what she couldn't.

Her stomach ached, not only from being neglected, but now that it was finally being filled, it wasn't with sustenance. All she forced down now were jolting breaths of air, empty and harmful, causing her body to seize from the inside out.

She wept in forlorn silence, trapped in her menagerie with no hopes of ever again obtaining freedom.

Every shudder that racked her body felt as though it might shatter her once and for all, and more often than not, she found herself wishing it would.

She couldn't keep her mind off of what was to become of her in two days' time.

She'd be sent away to Atlas' Academy, be stowed away in secret.

For her own safety? No. It was for one thing, and one thing only.

Control.

That's all this kingdom cared about.

She'd be trained to be a solider just like all the others, a mindless robot, be restrained and led like a lamb to the slaughter. No matter how hard she pushed, they'd push her back harder until she was broken. Once they had her, there would be no coming back.

But then again... she didn't even know if she had anything left to come back to.

Her friends and teammates...

They could be dead for all she knew.

Her father had certainly made it a point that she never be delivered news or word of their locations or conditions, whatever those may be. She was meant to be kept in the dark until she'd forgotten about them entirely.

/I won't.../ She vowed. /I'll never forget them. No matter how long it takes, I'll... I'll get through Atlas' schools and then I'll be free. I'll find them. Somehow.../

But she didn't know how confident she was in her own promise.

When she had Winter at her side, or the support of her friends like Ruby, Blake, and Yang, she could be strong.

But when she was alone...

Weiss had little faith in herself, especially after all of this. She didn't know if she'd make it on her own, if she'd be able to be trained in Atlas' militant style for the next several years and still emerge while harboring some sense of self.

Even now, she still needed what she'd never had for most of her life.

She needed a friend, she needed support.

Without those things, she'd never get by. The fear would consume her, and one day she might be tempted and desperate enough to let it.

Sounds from outside alerted her, and Weiss staggered to her feet, her bolero falling behind her. She pushed her weight against the door as the maid tried to enter. Weiss kept her out, listening to the mumble of "Then I'll leave your supper and uniform here for you."

There were sounds of a tray being placed outside the door, then footsteps leading away.

Weiss scoffed, bitterly wiping her forearm over her eyes. The room was still locked from the outside, so she couldn't get to the items outside even if she'd wanted to.

Dizzy and fatigued, she limped to her bed, her bare shoulders still shaking without the cover of the jacket she'd dropped. All that kept her exposed shoulders, arms, and back safe now was the delicate fall of her hair.

Her dress was stained with damp spots, and as she collapsed onto her bed, more instantly began to form on her pillow and sheets. She didn't even have the strength to slip herself beneath the covers. She felt she didn't deserve the simple comfort anyway.

Her friends... if they weren't all dead, then they were still out there somewhere.

Struggling. Worrying. In pain...

And Weiss wasn't doing a damn thing about it.

Maybe they were better off without her, dead or alive.

The sun had vanished long ago, leaving her room shrouded in darkness. Not even a single sliver of moonlight managed to slip through.

It was all so... unwelcoming, so cruel. Nothing could bring her comfort or console, at least not anything her father's mansion had to offer.

This would be her last night, and she'd spend it cold, alone, and afraid.

But... after living in this house for seventeen years, she was used to that by now.

Even so, that didn't stop her from remembering the nights she'd spent at Beacon, warm and comfortable with her teammates all around her.

She remembered wishing them all goodnight, and how the wishes would be warmly returned unto her.

She remembered how Yang would snore, how Blake would mumble, and how Ruby would toss in her sleep.

She remembered how Zwei would sometimes curl up at her feet for a bit of added warmth.

She remembered falling asleep during the best months of her life, remembered not being frightened for once about closing her eyes.

She remembered how each night promised to lead to a homely morning, with playful bantering over who would get into the bathroom first or which cereal they would choose.

She remembered them. All of them.

She wanted them back.

But she was helpless, scared, and utterly alone.

Again tonight, she would have to cry until she'd worn herself out of consciousness, never truly knowing if she'd see any of them again.

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A/N: The situation in this fic is much more dire than the canon made it all out to be. I just want to make sure readers understand how difficult things are for Weiss in particular being in Atlas which is relatively 'safe' but also has a tendency to use militant tactics with educating their youth.