Was it fortunate or unfortunate that she wasn't able to deal with the last conversation of the day right away? Weiss wasn't usually indecisive, but she had made something of a fool out of herself in front of Ron and she intended to deal with that at the first opportunity. However, playing billiards with her brother seemed much more important. They had wound up playing for over an hour and as the games were won and lost, they opened up to each other. He told her about his studies, acquaintances and apprenticeships while she told him about her studies and friends at Beacon. When the time came for her to leave for the board meeting, she didn't exactly trust him, but she thought that she might understand him.

For that reason, she had brought him along for the board meeting. He had leapt at the opportunity and had done as she requested; remained silent and observed for the entire meeting. She had placed him where she could easily observe him as he observed the meeting. He took notes and had a thoughtful expression the entire time. Now, they were in the back of the car as their regular driver, not Kline, drove them back to the mansion.

"You look pensive," he observed. "Care to share why?"

"I'm not looking forward to the gauntlet that's probably waiting for us at home," she answered. This was true enough, as the reporters waiting outside the gate on the way out had nearly blinded the poor driver with their photographs.

"True," he nodded. "The handful of questions you answered upon our departure only whetted their appetites, but are you certain that there isn't anything else that you dread?"

"Nothing that I'm about to share with you," she informed him. "At least not just yet."

He was clearly more observant than she was really comfortable with...but perhaps that would turn into an asset rather than a threat. The mocking 'dear sister' title was gone...except for when mocking was acceptable. This was progress, and she hoped to continue this progress...even if she really had no idea how to do so. Fortunately, her scroll chimed, allowing her to concentrate on something other than developing this boy who was only two years younger than her. She couldn't stop the wide smile from showing on her face upon reading the message.

"I take it that you have had some good news, for a change," he noted.

"Flynt and Neon made it to Soguk Su and will be on a ship in a day or two," Weiss announced. "About a week at sea and they'll be in Atlas!"

"Your companions and teammates," Whitley commented. "You must be looking forward to seeing them again."

"I am," she smiled. "It's good to know that they're still well." Then, she frowned as another thought intruded. "Whitley, do you have any friends, anyone who you would like to visit?"

"I'm a Schnee," he replied, bitterly. "There are several fellows my age that have befriended me, and a few girls my age that have shown a certain interest in me...all with their families' enthusiastic approval, I'm sure."

She looked at him again, thinking.

"Weiss, I'm getting uncomfortable with your constant gaze," he admitted.

"Oh!" She shook herself out her reverie. "Whitley, I think that you have the same inadequacy that I did, before leaving Atlas for the first time."

"And that is?" He prompted.

"I had no idea how people interacted," she told him. "It was becoming a member of Team RWBY that forced me to open my perspective, so I wish to do the same to you."

"Oh, more forced friendships?"

"No!" She insisted. "I'd like you to spend more time with me when I'm interacting with my friends. Trust me, they're not going to put up a false front to impress you. We don't always get along perfectly, but at the end of the day, we're friends."

"Ah," he nodded. "You wish me to see the gritty reality and not the polished artificial?"

"And participate in it," she added.

"It...sounds interesting," he murmured. "Oh, it appears that the gauntlet is just as bad as we suspected it would be."

She looked out the front of the car and noted that they were almost to the estate, and that a small horde of reporters were circling like nevermores. She quickly adjusted her posture, facing forward with a neutral expression on her face and noting that Whitley did the same. The car, blocked by the press of reporters, came to a halt. More reporters swarmed around them, shouting questions. Fortunately, the siblings only had to ignore them for a few minutes before the guards that her mother had hired showed up and ushered them out of the car's path, allowing the vehicle to pass into the relative shelter of the fenced off, Schnee Estate. As soon as the car came to a halt, Kline emerged from the mansion to open Whitley's door, while the driver opened Weiss'. Ron, wearing his Atlas Academy Uniform and Yang, wearing her Beacon Uniform, also emerged.

The shouted questions at both Weiss and Ron were deafening.

"You're eventually going to have to have some sort of question and answer session," Yang told the heiress, as the four walked back to the mansion. "Unless you'd like me to just start pummeling reporters."

"As tempting as that sounds, it would just make things more difficult in the end," Weiss informed her, although her slight smile told her larger friend that she appreciated the joking offer.

"Maybe non-violent antagonism?" Yang asked. "We could just moon 'em all."

"Yang..." Weiss rolled her eyes.

"It could be done," Whitley interrupted. "If Mister Stoppable were to do so, we could claim that it's a formal gesture on Earth that means 'no questions at this time'."

"I like the way you think," Yang told the younger Schnee.

Ron rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "I could get away with it, couldn't I?" An expression of gleeful realization spread across his face.

"Urgh!" Weiss palmed her face, heedless of the reporters recording the gesture. "Whitley, no giving these two any ideas. Yang, no encouraging these two and Ron, if your hand so much as touches your belt, I'm going to carve you! Now, let's get inside before one of those idiots says something that sets me off!"

With a deliberate stride, Weiss led the way into the front doors, only to come to a dumbfounded halt a few steps inside. She was only barely aware that Kline closed the door, making sure that the reporters couldn't see her.

"Ron," she managed to ask, in a calm and reasonable voice. "Why is Rufus waiting here with four other rats? And why are the other rats all wearing Schnee servants' livery?"

"They're presenting themselves for your approval," Ron told her. Behind him, Yang snickered into her hand.

"So why isn't Rufus wearing the same thing?"

"He's not one of the servant rats," Ron explained. "He's a guest. Still, the little guy understands formalities."

"Yes," Weiss noted. "He's wearing a tie, but nothing else. So, what are you expecting me to do?"

"Isn't it customary for the head of the manor to inspect new servants?" Yang asked, her smirk returning.

"I've never inspected a rat for the proper wear of a uniform before," Weiss answered.

"Sister, perhaps I should do it," Whitley interrupted. "Our new...errr...invitees, are rather small, which will require whomever inspects their uniforms to crouch down quite low."

"I can see that," Weiss fixed her brother with a suspicious eye.

"I also note that your business skirt is quite short," he continued. "And we have additional hires in the mansion, so perhaps it would be less embarrassing if a Schnee who happens to be wearing trousers were to take on this task."

"Oh!" Weiss actually blushed slightly. "Perhaps you're right."

With a slight smile, which was equal parts smirk and sympathetic, the boy dropped to his knees before crouching even lower, so that he could inspect the rats in minute detail. He had to crawl down the line, taking a minute two for each rat. At the end, he even looked over Rufus a little. Finally, he sprang to his feet and brushed imaginary dirt from his knees.

"I freely admit that I've never inspected rodent employees before," he told the other three humans. "The next time I speak to father, I must tell him that his education omitted this vital skill."

"You're going to tell father about this?" Weiss demanded.

"Of course," the boy shrugged. "Imagine him trying to determine if the report is factual."

"So, what's the verdict?" Ron asked him.

"I must obtain a magnifying glass prior to the next inspection," the boy declared. "I found it very difficult to judge the proper fit and wear of such small apparel."

"But what about what you could see?"

"They look acceptable," Whitley remarked. "But, with the exception of Rufus, their ties were tied somewhat sloppily."

On the floor, Rufus gave the other rats a hard look. The other rodents responded with looks that varied between embarrassed, ashamed, and contrite.

"They'll work on it," Ron assured the Schnees. "Keep in mind that they had never tied this particular knot before this morning."

"This particular knot?" Whitley's face showed both amusement and curiosity.

"Let's not discuss it," Weiss told them. "I'm sure that mother will wish to see the two of us. Since the mansion is still standing after a day in which Yang, Ron and Rufus have been trapped inside, we can leave them to their own devices for a little bit longer."

It had been the best evening at home that Weiss could remember for a very long time. Whitley was actually acting like her brother again and even though she didn't fully trust him yet, she thought she realized how he had gotten to his position. Upon hearing that Flynt and Neon were on the way back, her mother had started to plan a reception, as well as a question and answer session for Ron and her to address the press.

After dinner, the five of them retired to her mother's sitting room, where they played cards and discussed the potential reception and press conference. It felt good to include Yang and Ron in the discussion; and it felt even better to include Whitley. While she watched him closely, and wondered if there was some way she could see if he was just observing to pass on information to either her father or economic rivals. She believed that she would eventually be able to trust him...to a certain extent...but that time was not now.

After the talk, which allowed the meal to settle a little bit, Einsam insisted on coaching the young people for a formal dance. Of course, Weiss and Whitley had been attending such events since shortly after they could walk and Ron had been subjected to a little of the experience, but Yang had never been subjected to such a trial. Einsam ran them through formal dancing. It had been a long time since Weiss had danced with her brother, and she had to admit that she was a little put off with how much taller Whitley had grown. Then, Einsam paired Yang with Whitley and Weiss was forced to stifle her giggles.

Yang had looked the boy in the eye and had made some fairly graphic threats about what would happen to him if he let his hands wander. Ever the diplomat, Whitley assured the brawler that he would never even think about such an indiscretion. Yang, quite naturally, took this as an insult.

"What's wrong, am I fat or something?" She demanded.

"Of course not," Whitley assured her. "You're most attractive."

"So you're thinking of groping me!"

"No!" Now Whitley was getting a little flustered.

"So you do think that I'm not grope-worthy!"

"Is there any answer that I can provide that won't give offense?" He complained.

"Nah," Yang offered him a broad grin. "I'm just playing you. Let's do this."

With that, more tension had been taken away...and Weiss suspected that Yang had planned on this as much as the fun of tormenting the youngster. Yang proved to be graceful and a quick study, so Einsam was able to coach the young people through several formal waltzes before she grew weary and sought her bed. Whitley and Yang left soon afterwards, finally giving Weiss the opportunity to apologize to Ron for the scene she had made after their workout.

"I know you're going to tell me that I don't have anything to feel guilty about," Weiss told the young man. "But I'm going to apologize anyway; both for awakening your aura and for putting you in an awkward situation."

"Apologies accepted," he told her. "Even though there's nothing to apologize for." He paused a little, awkwardly. "Could I tell you a little about how I got the Mystical Monkey Power?"

She slid to one side on the couch, gesturing to the space next to her. With a slight nod, he sat.

"It was because I was scared and weak." he told her. "One of the problems with being a volunteer hero on Earth was that you still had to live your regular life. It started with this jade statue, that we helped this nobleman recover, only for it to be stolen by some ninja. We wanted to question the nobleman, but Kim had to be at her cousin's house that day. I didn't know that she had our computer genius send a hologram of her with me to his place, which was on the other side of an ocean."

"It turned out that the nobleman was the ninja who had stole the statue, and that he already had three other ones. Together, the four could charge someone up with the MMP...and he had already used them. He had also spent his family fortune to give himself monkey hands and feet, and he had spent years training in Tai Shing Pek Kwar. He was an insane man, but one that could kill a person in a heartbeat. He attacked us and that's when I found out that I was with a hologram, so I was all alone, hours from any help, and with a martial arts master who wanted to kill me because I had learned his secret. There was only one way for me to survive."

Weiss looked at him, both curious and concerned. He had obviously survived, as he was here now, but what could have been so terrible?

"I hated monkeys back then," he murmured. "I had had some bad experiences and I was scared to death of them. The whole sitch was so wrong...monkey temple, monkey statues, monkey powers and now a man who had made himself part monkey, who was trying to kill me by using Monkey Kung-Fu. The only way for me to survive was by going even more monkey. I made my way to the room where he had left the statues, and I let them charge me up with Mystical Monkey Power. They charged up Rufus, as well."

"I still wasn't a match for Fiske," Ron admitted. "But I could do what I did best; distract. I fought him as best I could and since I wasn't fighting to win, just to take up his time, I managed to hold out for a few minutes before he had me pinned down and ready to finish me off. It was enough time for Rufus to get into position."

"Rufus started to knock the statues off of their pedestals and Fiske had to catch them or see them shatter. He had one in each hand, one in a foot, and one in his mouth when I came up and hit him with a cheap shot that knocked him out and destroyed the statues. The statues were gone, so nobody else would ever be charged up with MMP again. I thought it was over, I was wrong."

"For the next year, every once in awhile the MMP would flare up and I would suddenly be agile, strong and skilled. I didn't have any control over it, it just showed up when it felt like it. I also started to run into monkeys; one was on a space station, a bunch were with Fiske when he tried to get to the space station...and I mistook one for Kim."

"You mistook a monkey for your girlfriend?" Weiss couldn't keep the smirk off of her face, despite the serious nature of the conversation.

"She wasn't my girlfriend then!" He protested.

"And she still became your girlfriend after that?"

"It's a long story," He shook his head. "But back to the monkeys I kept running into. They all seemed to like me. Then this mysterious school, across a different ocean from my home, called me."

"They made it all seem so honorable," he shook his head, bitterly. "I was the chosen one, the one who was destined to wield the Lotus Blade and the Mystical Monkey Power, but I must keep it a secret. I was young and dumb, so I bought into it all without questioning anything. I tangled with Fiske a couple of times after that, and usually came out on top. I even saved my world and my girlfriend from an alien invasion."

"So what was so bad about this?" Weiss asked him. "It seems that the power helped you do good things."

"It did," he nodded. "But I was its pawn the entire time, sort of like the suit it wore while nudging events the way it intended. I just wish it could have told me that I didn't have a choice; that it would take me to where it needed me to be and have me do what it needed me to do, no matter what it cost me...or those around me. And now I find out that it's going to affect things on Remnant."

"That's good for humans and faunus, isn't it?"

"It's good for the world," Ron answered. "And it's good for the people living on the world...but it's not good for individual people." He shook his head. "Weiss, when I was teamed with Kim, it was never us saving the world; it was Kim saving the world and me having her back while she did it. On those times when she couldn't make it and I went, it wasn't me saving the world, it was me taking her place to save the world."

"There's an old saying," Weiss told him. "A soldier doesn't fight because he hates what's in front of him. He fights because he loves what's behind him."

"I don't love societies or cultures," Ron told her. "I don't love nations or ideals. I love certain people and I don't think that the MMP works that way; it protects species." He took another deep breath. "In a way, having my aura activated means that I won't have to worry about that...and I don't know if that makes me a bad person."

"I don't understand," Weiss admitted.

"I'm not going to be the Ultimate Monkey Master," he answered, then flinched. "Does it sound as stupid to you as it does to me?"

"It's different," she admitted. "But what do you mean?"

"I mean that my aura blocks certain parts of that power," he answered. "So I'm pretty sure that this means someone else will come along, without an active aura, and take the title." He chuckled bitterly. "I'm glad that I won't have the responsibility any more, so does that make me a bad person that I'm glad that someone else gets stuck with it?"

"You've already saved one world," Weiss pointed out. "So maybe it's time to let someone else take up the burden." She lowered her eyes a little shyly. "While you live a normal life."

"And there we get to the next problem," he sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to train the next person...or people...to get charged up with the MMP. On Earth, there were four jade statues that could charge someone up and there was that mysterious school the guarded the Lotus Blade. I don't know if I'm supposed to build some secret school on some mountaintop, if I'm supposed to carve statues or something else. I don't even know how to get the MMP to someone else, maybe I have to die for someone else to get it."

"Somewhat like the Maiden Powers," Weiss mused.

"And...that's where this gets hard," Ron told her. "I...I think we could be more than friends to each other."

"Oh, you think?" Weiss now looked angry with him. "We've admitted that we're attracted to each other and we nearly went through with the act back in Mistral!"

"Okay, but what happens if we take that step and the MMP drags me off to some naco-forsaken corner of this planet?" He jumped to his feet, his response just as angry as hers, but he quickly regained control of his temper. "I'm just not wired that way. I don't make friends very easily, so I really cherish the friends I have. If I were to get into a...romantic relationship...only to get torn away again...I don't know what I'd do."

"Do you think I enjoy the idea?" Weiss was now on her feet, as well. "Do you think I like the idea of really opening up to someone only to see him pulled away while I'm stuck here, running the company for the good of all Atlas? I'm the same way, I don't like thinking of Remnant and Atlas; I like supporting my friends and the others who are special to me. But I can see something that you can't."

Ron looked at her, curiously.

"We only have this one life," she told him. "So why not take the chance to be happy, even if we know it might not last?" She shook her head. "You've lost Kim, but can you honestly tell me that if you had the ability to go back in time, to make sure that the two of you were friends, but nothing more, would you do it?"

"No." His voice was harsh with emotion, but honest and without hesitation.

"So why turn your back on what we could be?" She drew a shuddering breath. "You could get manipulated out of my life tomorrow, just like I could fall to a White Fang assassin, or some warrior for justice who realizes that the Schnees are the problem in the world. Either of us could take a wrong dodge when fighting a grimm or a bandit. Even if none of this happens, we might not work out, but does that mean we shouldn't take the chance? Isn't just the chance that we might make it work worth the heartache if it doesn't?"

Ron didn't answer, at least not verbally. Instead, he walked a couple of steps away and bowed his head.

"Ron?" She asked. Then, he held out his hands, the room seemed to dim slightly, and he was holding a sword.

Weiss' question had staggered him, forcing him to remember the talk with Yang. He still loved Kim...probably always would...but would it be fair to her to refuse to let go? Would it be fair to those still on Earth who were special to him? Would it be fair to Weiss?

Would it be fair to himself?

A chapter in your life has ended, accept this and turn the page! Remember the past chapter fondly, but do not seek to relive it!

Just remember that the longer you delay, the greater the chance that something might happen to make both Weiss and Kim hurt even more.

"I love you and I miss you, KP." He thought. "I'll miss you until the day I die. Because I love you, I have to do this. Goodbye, KP. Goodbye mom, dad, Hana, Felix, Monique and Wade. Goodbye Earth."

It was the right thing to do, even if it would hurt. He held out his hand and called the blade. This time, he fully, truly called for it, knowing the cost. He felt the familiar hilt in his hand and opened the eyes he didn't recall closing. He didn't recall stepping away from Weiss, but he must have.

Was he sad? Angry? Proud? Relieved?

Why couldn't he be all of them at the same time?

"Did you just..." Weiss wasn't able to finish the question. His emotions still in turmoil, Ron decided to change the blade's form to something more suitable for a sitting room.

He snorted at himself, both in disgust and in humor, when the only shape he could come up with was a Snowman Hank snow-globe.

"It was time...past time...for me to make the change," he answered her, setting the ridiculous trinket on a side-table. "I'm never going back to Earth. It's time to quit pretending that I will."

A tear slipped from one eye, and he wiped it away with an angry swipe. How would his crying about finally letting go of Earth make Weiss feel?

"Ron, it's okay," Weiss' hand rested on his arm. "You've just cut your last tie, of course you're sad."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," she insisted. "It can't be easy to move on like this. I know it sounds trite, but if there's anything I can do to help..."

"I know," he rallied a little. "Do you know a good craftsman? I think it's time I had some sort of a gun mounted in my second tonfa. It's time to start acting like a proper huntsman."

"We'll do some research tomorrow," she assured him.

"Weiss..." he took a deep breath. "I know that your mother is planning a reception for when Flynt and Neon get back. When she does...can I be your escort for the evening?"

"It's customary for the hostess to request this of the gentleman," Weiss told him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "On Earth..."

"But I was going to ask you, anyway," she interrupted. "This lets me know that you will say yes." She hesitated a moment. "Welcome to Remnant."

Tears started to flow again, but this time, Weiss reached up to wipe one away. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she assured him again. He looked to her, their faces oh so close, and he found himself leaning down towards her.

This kiss had none of the desperate hunger of the one they had shared back in Mistral; none of the demand to fill the emotional hurt with something...anything...else. There was still guilt, and there would be for some time, but mostly there was the feel of a lithe form, that was so much stronger than it had any right to be, in his arms. Her hands rested on the sides of his face, holding him close, letting him know that she wanted him.

That he was worth being wanted.

When the kiss was finished, she leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. For a time, he simply held her.

"I was lonely when I woke your aura," she whispered, and he could feel her warm breath through his shirt. "My sister was off on some secret mission, my mother was an alcoholic, my father a tyrant who wanted to cage me, and my brother was his little sycophant."

"I'm not so lonely anymore," she told him. "My sister is proud of me, my mother is back and my brother might become a brother again; but I still want you with me."

"For as long as we can," he promised.

There was dampness on his shirt, telling him that this was an emotional event for her, as well. Not knowing what to do, he simply held her. After a time, she rallied herself, wiping her eyes before raising her head.

"I have an idea," she told him. When he didn't interrupt, she continued. "Before, I suggested that the two of us travel Remnant so you can see the different cultures and lifestyles on this world."

He nodded.

"Let's do this slightly differently," she suggested. "I want to attend Beacon Academy when it is ready to re-open. In the meantime, I want to help defend Atlas and run my company. Stay with me, defend this Kingdom, and attend classes at the Academy. When Beacon is open again, come with me and attend classes at Beacon."

"How is that different than Atlas?" He wondered.

"Vale, and Beacon, are more cosmopolitan," she told him. "Beacon welcomes students from all over Remnant. Come with me to Beacon and get to know people from around the world and complete your huntsman's training. Your aura interferes with your Mystical Monkey Power, so master your aura, under the tutelage of experts."

"That sounds like a good idea," he admitted. Somewhere, deep inside, he swore the MMP approved, as well.

"After that, we can form our own team," she continued. "Even if it's just the two of us. We'll go to wherever our skills are needed the most, serving Remnant. You'll get the chance to see the world as a wandering huntsman, see the upper classes and the slums. You'll see the villages between the kingdoms, the capital cities and the outlying towns. And during that time, you'll be able to decide how to address your responsibilities with the Mystical Monkey Power."

"I like that," he agreed. "And even if things don't work out. Even if it turns out that we're better as friends than as romantic partners or if our responsibilities won't let us stay together.."

"At least we've tried," she finished for him. "At least we'll have the memories."

Again, they just stood there for a time, holding each other. Finally, Weiss disengaged herself and took her hands in his.

"It's been a long day," she told him. "And the course isn't going to be any easier tomorrow. Let's call it a night and take this up tomorrow."

"I agree," he nodded. He released one of her hands and picked up the snow-globe.

"You know, that thing looks ridiculous," she commented.

"Hey, no dissing on Snowman Hank," he countered. "The last time that happened, I got shot out of orbit in a garbage pod and landed in the Arctic."

"That's so bizarre that it has to be true."

"It is," he assured her, as the two left the sitting room. "You see, there used to be shows every Christmas about him, but one year, they canceled it. It was also the year that I decided to give KP a holiday with the family as a present, so I went out to stop Drakken..."

Epilogue 1, The Schnee Mansion.

Ron pulled another glass of water off of a servers' tray and found a semi-hidden niche. He understood that answering questions would help in the long run, but he was getting tired of this. He took a long drink, relishing the feeling of the icy liquid soothing his irritated throat.

"You've go the look of someone who could use a break from the gig."

Recognizing the voice, Ron finished his beverage. "Tell me about it," he whispered.

Flynt grinned at him. "You knew folks would be asking you questions."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, still whispering to save his vocal chords. "But how many times do I have to tell people that my ears are considered large, even on Earth, before more people will quit asking me?"

"That's the problem when you come up with a good tune," the combat musician told him. "No mater how many times you play it, there's always someone at the gig who wants to hear it again. Just be glad this is at a reception; the folks here at least try to be polite."

"Yeah, but it was supposed to be a reception welcoming you and Neon back as much as presenting me as an alien," Ron countered. "I don't see the two of you being grilled all that much."

"And that's just the way I like it," Flynt gave Ron a grin that was absolutely smug.

"But seriously, I haven't had much of a chance to talk with you since you got back," Ron offered him a bit of a hard look, but not much. "How did it go?"

"Tiring," Flynt told him. "I'm lucky that Madame Schnee didn't insist that we have the reception the night we got back." He thought for a few moments. "We could handle any of the battles, it was facing one after another that really dragged us flat. That and having to live without the infrastructure." He shook his head. "I always looked at the upper class here and thought I had it rough, then I spent some time between the kingdoms and realized that I had it pretty good, y'know."

"I get the idea," Ron assured him. "Back on Earth, I sometimes had to go what we called the third world every once in awhile. When you're used to having a 'stop-and-rob' nearby, it can be hard when one isn't around."

"Stop-and-rob?" Flynt asked.

"Twenty-four hour convenience store," Ron explained. "I won't go into the name."

"I won't press it," Flynt grinned at him. "But I thought that the grind as a student was rough; classes, training, sparring and inspections. Then I had to do it for real, being on alert day after day when nothing happened, but you still had to put in the all-nighters because you didn't know when the grimm or the bad guys were going to show up...and that lasted week after week. Life ain't a sprint, it's a marathon."

"Did it get better when the Mistral Students started to show up?"

"A lot," Flynt nodded. "We were able to spread out the watch more and actually take the time to keep ourselves going. I saw the footage of you and Weiss fighting in Kuchinashi. That looked tense."

"It was as harsh as I'd ever like to see," Ron agreed.

"And your semblance sent you back to Earth, where you got roughed up?" Flynt shook his head. "We're all gonna have to have a sit down and talk as soon as we can."

"Agreed, but not here."

"No argument," Flynt assured him. "By the way, I've heard that you have a rodent friend from Earth running around here. I've never met him."

"He's keeping low," Ron told his friend. "He knows that the folks here might not be exactly happy to see him, and he's a little nervous around Neon."

"Better safe than sorry," Flynt chuckled, while looking out to where his partner was dancing with Whitley. "What's with Weiss' little brother? Weiss always acted like he was a sour note, but he seems pretty chill."

"He's had a rough time," Ron told him. "When you have two older sisters like Winter and Weiss, it's kind of easy to get overshadowed. Weiss is trying to treat him like a brother and not a rival and he seems to be coming around."

"Seems to be?" Flynt asked.

"Better safe than sorry," Ron told him.

"There you are!" Yang announced, finding the two. "The two of you are pretty good at getting out of sight when you feel like it."

"Not everyone can be a head turner," Ron pointed out.

"True," she smirked at him. "And it never gets old. But Einsam would like to have a word with you and Weiss."

"Oh, just the heroes from Kuchinashi?" Flynt asked, but his smile took away any hint that he was offended.

"For now," Yang told him. "You, on the other hand, have another mission. I don't have a partner for this dance."

Ron set his empty glass on a nearby table and smiled as Yang hauled the only slightly resisting (and that for comedic effect) Flynt onto the dance floor. With a slight sigh, Ron left the marginal shelter of his refuge and made his way towards the grand staircase. As he feared, once he was clearly in sight of the Schnees' neighbors, business associates and other peers who made up the attendees, the greetings and questions started all over again. However, he only had to exchange a few words with each person, as he was able to truthfully claim that the generous hostess wished to speak to him.

Nobody wanted to delay someone whom Einsam Schnee had summoned.

On the upper level, and just to one side of the grand staircase, a small dais, holding two chairs and a small table, was built into the balcony. Einsam used this as a refuge whenever she hosted events; should she become weary, she would retreat here and observe her guests. Only those whom she had specifically welcomed were accepted here, so she could have a short reprieve, or a somewhat private conversation, whenever she wished. Ron didn't know if this arrangement was unique to the Schnees, typical of the Atlesian upper classes, or something that was universal on Remnant, but since the guests never questioned it, he didn't either.

The matron was seated in this dais now and easily spotted him as he made his way through the guests and towards the stairway. He had lived in the mansion long enough to note her discreet look of approval as he struggled to balance politeness to the guests with a prompt response to her summons. Upon reaching the stairs, he had to consciously subdue the urge to scamper up the stairs and force himself to adopt a casual stride. He smiled a bit at that; suspecting that no matter how old he grew, he would always be the little boy answering a teacher, coach or a parent.

"I understand you wished to speak to me," he announced himself before stepping into her semi-private space.

"Of course, Ronald, please be seated."

How she could make a slight gesture towards the other chair so regal, Ron would never know. However, the instruction was unmistakable, so he planted himself on the indicated piece of furniture. The chairs were not at opposite sides of the table, allowing the occupants to look directly at each other. Instead, they were arranged so that the occupants could look out over the ballroom while turning slightly to face each other.

"Weiss should be here shortly," Einsam told him. "Much as you, she is facing intense curiosity and proper manners do not allow her to simply barge through my guests to speak to me."

"At least your guests are polite about the questions," Ron told her.

"You have undoubtedly read some colorful speculation made on line," Einsam smiled at the young man's shock. "I may be aging, Mr. Stoppable, but I'm still amused at how certain people express their curiosity."

"I'm just annoyed that some people are more interested in...certain details about me...than I am," Ron confessed.

"The anonymity of being on line, or part of an unorganized crowd, encourages a certain boldness," Einsam offered, with a smile. "As a Schnee, I have been subjected to this for most of my life. When you are among peers, such as my guests now are, much of this anonymity is removed, so the more crass inquiries are suppressed. However, once more wine flows, the questions could become more personal and prying. Ah! There's my daughter."

Ron followed her gaze (she was far to polite to point) and spotted the younger Schnee woman making her way, gracefully, through the guests. Much as him, she spoke to several people on the way before reaching the staircase and ascending it with a great deal more grace and decorum than he had managed. As a gentleman, he rose when she approached.

"You're much more of a guest here than I am," Weiss told him, once she greeted her mother. "So please, you sit."

Ron was a little confused. While some acts of chivalry were different between Remnant and Earth, it was still considered rude for a gentleman to remain seated while a lady stood. Still, he settled back onto the chair, then felt her arm slide around his neck and her hand rest on his shoulder. She was not a tall person, so she was perfectly comfortable standing next to him and leaning against him. While Ron enjoyed the feeling, he was a little nervous.

Since summoning the Lotus Blade to Remnant two weeks ago, he and Weiss had grown closer. There was a lot of hand holding, occasional kissing and even some cuddling in the evenings. He considered her his girlfriend and knew that she considered him her boyfriend. However, even with the media frenzy dying down a little, they were careful to show their affections only in private.

Until now.

"I would like to speak to you about your plans for the future," Einsam addressed the two, although Ron swore a small smile flickered across her face. "Weiss, please tell me why you chose to surrender the leadership of your team to Mr. Coal."

"He's a much better team leader than I am," Weiss told her. "Between his greater experience and the fact that he can focus on the leadership role while I am focusing upon my role as the CEO of the company, it is better for the team."

"Mr. Stoppable?" Einsam looked at the young man.

"She's right," Ron confirmed. "Weiss has to spend so much time as a CEO that she doesn't have the time to come up with new tactics and research new grimm. Flynt is really good at that, he keeps running us through drills outside of classes, making us more of a team."

"It isn't easy to accept your own limitations," Einsam nodded. "It is a mark of maturity and sensibility to realize that someone else has either the expertise, the experience, or even the time needed to perform a task better than you. You have learned to delegate, daughter, and I am pleased to hear this."

"I understand that Beacon Academy may attempt to re-open in a few more weeks," the matron continued. "Even with the campus overrun by grimm, they will hold their classes in a series of warehouses and other buildings within Vale. The three of you have expressed your interest in attending, and I will not stop you. I will miss you, but you've returned Whitley to me and set up a board of directors that I can trust. It seems cruel to have only regained my family, only to see my daughters go their own ways."

"Perhaps I can delay my re-enrollment," Weiss suggested. "If you'd rather..."

"No!" Einsam firmly halted her daughter's suggestion. "You are growing up, much like your sister, and it is time for you to find your own way in the world, even if you will always be welcome here. I will not have this home become your prison."

"It is time for me to rejoin my guests," Einsam announced, rising to her feet. This prompted Ron to do so, as well. "Mr. Stoppable, you have been a wonderful companion for my daughter. You have my blessing to solicit her affection."

The older woman walked by the young couple, but paused to poke at the top of Ron's head.

"But before you leave for Vale, I will do something about that cowlick."

Ron watched Einsam descend the staircase...with a great deal more decorum and grace than he had ascended it...before turning to Weiss.

"Solicit your affection?" He asked.

"It means she wants the two of us to date," Weiss told him. "Seriously."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," she confirmed.

"That sounds so wrong coming from someone who isn't wearing a mullet," he grumbled.

"A what?"

"Very long story," he sighed. "But she wants the two of us dating?"

"As in exclusively, and towards making something permanent."

"That puts me in a rough place," Ron told her. "How am I supposed to date the girl who has everything?"

"What makes you think I'm interested in dating you?" She demanded.

"I have your mother's permission!"

"You have my mother's permission," Weiss sniffed. "But that doesn't mean you have my approval! Why do you think I want to?"

"You admitted to your publicist that you're attracted to me."

"Okay, that's a point," she admitted, turning to face him directly.

"You've asked me to come along with you to Beacon," he pointed out.

"That's another point," she now took a step towards him.

"How about the kisses over the last couple of weeks?"

"They make a strong argument in your favor," she nodded, and reached out to take his hands in her own.

"Finally, there was the fact that you were leaning against me, where all of your guests could see," Ron concluded. "And we're standing in a fairly romantic pose in the same place."

"Very well, I'm convinced," she smiled at him.

"So now that we know that you want to date me," Ron asked. "How do I go about it?"

"Well, we could start with a little non-verbal indication to the Schnee peers."

Smiling now, Ron leaned towards her, noting her own smile as she lifted herself onto her toes...

Only for a familiar and usually welcome squeak to interrupt the moment.

"Rufus?" Ron asked, looking around and spotting a familiar pink form behind a furnace grill on the floor.

"How did he get in there?" Weiss demanded.

"Air vents, they're the hidden highways," Ron told her. "What do you need, buddy?"

The mole rat answered with a series of squeaks and chitters that Weiss couldn't follow, but were apparently a functional language to Ron. The young man's eyes flew wide and one hand rose to cover his face.

"Buddy, we'll talk about this after the party," he sighed. As the hidden rodent slipped away from the opening and into the depths of the Schnee heating system, Ron looked towards Weiss. "I'm going to have to make some arrangements before we leave for Beacon."

"What is it?" She asked. "Is there something wrong with the rats?"

"Wrong...no..." he murmured. "In fact, it's pretty much right. I guess you should congratulate me; I'm going to be an uncle in a couple more weeks."

"Come here, Fiske."

Somehow, Fiske knew that something was wrong and that he was causing Salem disquiet of sorts...even if he didn't know what he had done. There was a momentary thought of fleeing...but that would be disobeying his queen. He couldn't do that. He rushed through the citadel to her council chamber, where he found her seated at the head of the table, with a very large man seated to her right. Fiske hurried to her side, where he knelt before her.

"Rise," she commanded. "Fiske, this is one of my most trusted servants, Hazel." A pale hand described an imperious gesture towards the man.

"An honor," Fiske offered a shallow bow, which the man returned with a nod.

"As your body becomes more attuned with your soul, memories and past alliances shall return to you," Salem reminded him. "Let me see this symbol that is appearing on your left hand."

Nervous, but not willing to displease the queen, Fiske extended his hand. Both Salem and Hazel contemplated the back of his palm.

"It has gained more definition," Salem observed. "Perhaps a humanoid form sitting in a meditative stance. Have any memories associated with it surfaced?"

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but what could be a name," Fiske told her. "Yo-ho, or Yo-pro...maybe even Yugo...I cannot recall."

Salem merely fixed him with a piercing eye for several minutes, during which Fiske found himself whimpering and squirming at his inability to please her.

"Fiske is incapable of lying to me," she finally addressed Hazel. "His memories will return in time, but that schedule is one that I do not know. Show him the image."

"As you wish," the big man's voice, although quiet, seemed to make the very stones shake. He produced a small device...which Fiske had learned was called a scroll...and pressed a control with his massive finger. An image appeared over the table, which had Fiske hissing in irritation even though he didn't know why.

"Interesting," Salem nodded, as Fiske continued to glare at the picture of a young, blonde man standing with a petite, platinum-haired girl. "What can you tell me of those who you see here?"

"He is an impostor!" Fiske spat. "He has...something...that he has not earned, that is rightfully mine!"

"And what is this?" Salem's question was gentle, yet implacable.

"I...do not know..." Fiske admitted. "A power...a strength..."

"It will return to you, in time," she informed him. "What about the girl?"

"She's...wrong," Fiske told her. "She should be taller and have red hair. I...I don't know how I know this."

"Another mystery that will be solved. Fiske, tell me what you see here."

In response, Hazel pressed another control and the image was replaced with a chaotic recording. It seemed to be a battle scene, with whomever was recording the action incapable of keeping the recording device stable. Suddenly, the jolting movements stopped and focused on the young man, the pretender. As Fiske watched, snarling, the dolt was seized by a large grimm...a goliath. Yet, the impostor held off the goliath's trunk with one arm, caught its foot with the other hand, then shoved the monstrous creature back. It was only then that Fiske noted that a petite girl, perhaps the one from the earlier image, was pinned by ruble behind the boy.

"How is this possible?" Salem asked him, her gentle voice irresistible. "Even a hyperstrength semblance wouldn't allow such a feat."

"It's the power," Fiske told her. "The power that he cheated me of! The power that is rightfully mine!"

"And you do not have this strength." Her tone of disappointment hurt him worse than any beating could.

Fiske could only hang his head in shame.

"We must increase the intensity of your development," Salem told him, then turned to the other man in the room. "Hazel, this task will be yours."

"As you wish."

Again, the deep voice seemed to make the stone recoil. Vast muscles in his huge arms crawled under his skin, promising a truly unpleasant encounter.

In response, and just for a moment, Fiske's eyes glowed yellow.

A/N:

Well folks, that's it for another tale. I don't know when I'll get around to moving forward in this story arc, but I want everyone to know that I've appreciated every review and PM that has come my way.

As always, HUGE thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading.

Until next we meet, my best wishes to everyone.

daccu65.