A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for checking out my newest story, and I must say, it's a rather ambitious one.

As many of you know, White Rose Week (June 10th -16th) is a week that celebrates the bond between Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee. Artists and authors are given 7 days worth of prompts (and one extra free day), and their goal is to create a piece of artwork or writing that incorporates each prompt.

With this story, I'm taking things a bit further because apparently I like complicating things for myself. D: I'll still be incorporating a prompt per chapter, but instead of doing a series of unconnected one-shots like most people do, every chapter is going to tie into a comprehensive story with an overlying plot. I really hope you all enjoy it.

This work is un-beta'd and self-edited.

Now without further ado, welcome to my newest story: The Fate We Choose

WRW Day 1 (First) — When First We Meet

Weiss took a running leap off the roof of the three-story building and landed on the fire escape of the next building over, causing the paint-chipped, half-rusted metal staircase to clang and screech in protest.

It was a cloudy night, which should have worked in Weiss's favor, but unfortunately the numerous city lights and her own platinum white hair made it nearly impossible to lose her pursuers. Yes, she was a vampire and although she was physically faster and stronger than the average human, she could still be overwhelmed with numbers and even at her fastest, she was still no match for a car or motorcycle.

Things might have been different if she had been willing to use her magic, but she had been expecting a quiet night and therefore had fed sparingly earlier that evening. She certainly hadn't consumed enough to fuel her through a fight against several teams of silver-wielding humans and then have to lead them on a chase through the city after being injured. Between all the fighting and the running, using her magical glyphs was a risk she wasn't willing to take without feeding more heavily beforehand.

Have to stay off the ground, she thought woozily as she continued to press her arm against the wide, sluggishly bleeding gash in her side. It wasn't her only injury, but it was undoubtedly the most serious. As long as I keep to the buildings, my pursuers have to waste time and energy climbing up and down every set of stairs if they want to catch up to me.

The average human couldn't leap from building to building and hope to land safely like she could after all. She would have been more worried if they had a mage with them but luckily, they didn't.

Whoever had sent them after her hadn't planned the attack out very well. Or was that the point? Had they sent in an incompetent, unprepared strike team on purpose, hoping they'd get wiped out by an angry vampire? If the team managed to kill her, great; if not, if Weiss took even one human life in her struggle to defend herself against her attackers, the Supernatural Containment Bureau's Hunters would be after her in a heartbeat. The SCB had little to no mercy for any supernatural being that threatened human lives, even if those human lives had been the aggressors.

Other questions flashed through her mind, one by one.

Who ordered the attack? Was it one of her many rivals or simply a group of anti-vampire humans? Was she, Weiss Schnee, the actual target or were they going after any lone vampire they could find? Weiss had been exceedingly quiet for the past century and had been going out of her way to avoid the public eye for decades, so it was quite possible they didn't actually know they'd just attacked one of the most powerful elder vampires in Vale if they'd been lazy and hadn't done the proper research beforehand.

For the first time in a very long time, Weiss regretted her self-imposed seclusion from the supernatural community. If she had bothered to keep even one ear on the ground, this could all have been easily avoided. However, at the same time, she had retreated from politics for precisely this reason; she was sick of dealing with the machinations of her rivals and peers—tired of wondering who wanted to kill her this week and whether they were human or something else entirely. Tired of dealing with beings, human or otherwise, who either hated her, feared her, or worse, wanted to be her. Greedy sycophants were the worst—following her around in hopes she would share her power or wealth. And she didn't even want to think about the ones that hoped she'd eventually turn them into a creature like herself.

And more than anything else, she was just tired of all the senseless deaths and pointless power struggles. Tired that she never knew who she could trust anymore.

In all honesty, she still had the right connections to find out who might have wanted her dead despite the fact she was no longer an active political figure in any world, supernatural or human, but first she had to survive. She had to get to safety, rinse the silver from her wounds so they could heal properly, feed, and let her body rest and regenerate.

She forced her cut up body forward, doing her best to ignore how the silver made every wound feel as though it had been splashed with burning acid. Her jaw began to ache as the cavernous hunger in her stomach grew with every drop of blackened blood she lost—a warning that she needed to feed and soon. She was old for one of her kind, old enough that firearms just been invented when she was born. However, even a vampire as old as herself risked much by remaining injured too long.

After all, even vampires who prided themselves with restraint and control over their hunger would eventually succumb to it when badly injured or starved. Humans called the state of mind a blood frenzy as though vampires were uncontrolled beasts—rabid animals that ought to be put down on sight. It was discourse that encouraged humans to fear vampires and as any supernatural being knew, humans didn't respond well to fear. When humans feared something, when they had cause to feel they might be in danger, they lashed out and caused more death and devastation than any creature other than the Grimm—those demonic, soul-consuming creatures whose only purpose seemed to be destruction. It was the Grimm that made vampires outcasts even among the supernaturals, because they all assumed that since both vampires and Grimm drew their power from the darkness and weakened in the sun, vampires must be as evil as the Grimm.

Weiss refused to use any uncouth term like "blood frenzy." She called it "survival," for how was her need for blood any different than a starving man who leaps for a crust of bread or a thirsty man who greedily guzzles down whatever liquid he can get at the first opportunity? Humans all too easily forgot or perhaps outright ignored the fact that their own kind would stoop at very little when their own needs weren't met, and sometimes it wasn't even a matter of survival. Rapists hurt others just to feed their own twisted pleasure. She had seen addicts tragically lose all sense of morality just to get their next fix. People of wealth thought themselves gods, doing whatever it took to gain more wealth, more power, and more prestige no matter who or what they crushed to get it. Weiss would know. Her human father had been one of the latter before she had personally sundered his head from his body.

"There it is! On the fire escape!"

Weiss shoved the nearest window open, thrust herself through it, and found herself in a cheaply carpeted hallway. An apartment building, judging by the numbers on the door to her right. She closed the window behind her to ensure her pursuers didn't try to lob a colloidal silver bomb through it. As with all explosives, they were technically illegal to use in the city, but if the mercenaries or bounty hunters were chasing a supernatural like herself, human authorities tended to look the other way as long as no humans were actually hurt. Oh sure, the mercenaries or bounty hunters would be forced to pay fines for property damage if they were caught, but that was about it. Or at least that was how it used to be the last time she'd checked. Weiss had heard things were slowly getting better for the supernaturals in the current era, but she still felt it prudent to prepare for the worst case scenario.

Weiss darted down the hall and around the corner, intending to find a stairway that would lead her to the roof, when she suddenly collided with something. Or rather, someone.

"Oof—!" the person cried out as Weiss knocked the wind out of them and sent both of them tumbling to the ground with two audible thuds.

Weiss's own voice caught as her injuries protested their rough treatment, but a low hiss of pain escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to keep quiet.

"What was that sound?"

"It came from upstairs. Teams 1 and 2, check the elevators! Teams 3 and 4, find the stairs! The rest of you, I want eyes on the building in case the vampire makes another jump."

Not good. Her pursuers were already in the building. She had to get moving.

The figure Weiss had knocked over in her rush suddenly rolled to their feet. Weiss had to raise an eyebrow at that. Whoever they were, they were remarkably agile.

After checking inside the grocery bag looped around their left wrist, ostensibly to make sure everything was still in one piece, they looked over at Weiss.

"Hey, you alright?" the figure asked.

A young voice. Decidedly female. Clear. Not quite as high as Weiss's own voice but of a similar timbre. Surprisingly, she sounded concerned—which made sense since she'd have to be blind to miss the dark blood staining Weiss's clothing—but what didn't make sense was that there was no sense of fear in the young woman's voice. A little apprehension, perhaps, but no outright fear or panic, which should have been the normal human response. A normal civilian response.

Weiss looked her over. The young woman was rather thin and lanky. She wore a pair of dark cargo pants, ratty black sneakers that had seen better days, and a well-worn, loose red hoodie with the hood pulled up all the way, hiding her facial features. Weiss assumed it was for safety purposes. If the young woman hadn't said anything, Weiss would have assumed she was a young man or boy rather than a young woman, a wise decision when wandering around alone at night.

"I'm fine," Weiss forced out as she pushed herself to her feet. She had to put her hand against the nearest wall to steady herself, which sent a thread of worry through her. She was in worse shape than she feared if she couldn't even stand without support.

"This way!" The voices of Weiss's pursuers were getting louder and judging by the way the young woman before her turned her head, they were close enough now that even human ears could hear them.

Before Weiss could do anything else, the young woman reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Come on," she whispered with a hint of urgency in her voice. She tugged on Weiss's arm and pulled them to a door at the very end of the hallway. She fumbled for her key, slid it into place, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.

A measure of sick expectation and dread fell over Weiss. She was a vampire, and one of the few things humans believed about vampires that was actually true was that her kind couldn't enter a home without being invited. What was the old saying? Evil had to be invited in. Or more accurately, the darkness had to be invited in.

For the Grimm, whose essence was darkness, that invitation could be as simple as a person's fear, anger, jealousy, or panic. Vampires weren't nearly as powerful and had to be formally invited into a dwelling.

(Privately, Weiss wasn't even sure if it was actually an issue of darkness or evil needing to be invited. That explanation sounded like an old wives' tale, and modern science had proven many of those to be dubious at best. And obviously, anthropomorphizing anything, be it darkness or evil, was not a reasonable or logical explanation for any observable phenomenon. No, Weiss's current hypothesis was that a geas of sorts had been laid upon the first of her kind to give humans places of safety so that vampires could not overwhelm them. Nature sought balance, after all; and even the supernatural world was bound by the laws of nature.)

In any case, this young woman would try to pull her through the doorway, but Weiss would be physically incapable of passing over the threshold without a formal invitation.

She'd find out Weiss was more than she appeared. A monster. Not that Weiss considered herself a monster. She had long gotten over that particular mental hurdle. She was what she was through no fault of her own, and no amount of self-loathing would change that. However, that didn't mean she wasn't sensitive to how the rest of the world saw her.

A split second before Weiss was about to pull her wrist away to avoid the inevitable rejection, the young woman released her. The woman then turned and drew back her hood, and Weiss found herself looking into a pair of startling gray—no, silver—eyes. The young woman had choppy, somewhat messy, neck-length hair that appeared black but somehow had a reddish sheen to it when the light struck it at a certain angle, particularly at the tips of her hair. Her skin was pale with a rosy tint to it. Her features were clearly feminine, but there was definitely a rather boyish appeal to her, judging by the way she carried herself.

Weiss couldn't help but glance back up at the young woman's unusual eyes. She had never seen anyone with silver eyes before.

Perhaps she's not a full-blooded human? It was possible. Few people these days knew their exact genetic history. Who was to say the young woman didn't have fae or some other blood mixed into her family lines?

Weiss's thoughts were quickly interrupted when the young woman spoke again.

"Those who enter in goodwill are welcome in these halls," she began, her voice still barely above a whisper to keep them from being heard by Weiss's pursuers. Then her soft voice took on a sort of sing-song cadence that made the hairs on Weiss's neck stand on end.

"As long as all abide by promises three,

A promise from you, a promise from me,

A promise to the patron who oversees,

Harm not the host,

Harm not the guest,

Harm not the dwelling within you find rest."

Elusive, gossamer threads of power wove through the air as the young woman spoke, making Weiss's skin tingle. Fae magic. Powerful fae magic. It didn't seem to be coming from the young woman directly, though. It was more like she was being used as the conduit and voice of another.

The young woman paused in her rhyming chant for a moment, and Weiss realized she must be waiting for a response.

Weiss hesitated. She hadn't lived as long as she had not to be wary of dealing in promises, especially when the fae were involved. Wordplayers and speakers of half-truths, the lot of them. They couldn't outright lie so they found ways of twisting words and meanings to make you think they were saying one thing when in reality, they had meant something completely different.

Still...this particular set of promises seemed straightforward enough, and it wasn't like Weiss had been planning to harm anyone or anything in the first place. She was just trying to use the building's stairs to slow down her pursuers while was looking for a way to shake them.

Finally, Weiss nodded her assent. She still wasn't entirely certain whether she should trust this young woman or the thickening fae magic swirling in the air, but it helped that the promises Weiss was being offered were nostalgically familiar. They were the laws of sacred hospitality of old, harkening back to the days when hosts were honorbound to protect any guest that came to their doors seeking shelter or sanctuary, and guests were equally bound not to hurt or steal from the host. They were laws that had become mostly forgotten in this modern era, so it was nice to see that they were still alive somewhere, even if that somewhere was an old, cramped, cheap-looking apartment building.

And at the very least, although the fae could be crafty and shifty when it suited their needs, Weiss knew that once they made a promise, they kept it.

The young woman dropped her chanty tone and whispered hurriedly, "She needs to hear you say it."

"She?"

"The silkie that oversees and protects the building and its inhabitants."

Weiss frowned before taking a deep breath and raising her voice ever so slightly to address whatever other being might be present. "I promise I will harm nothing and no one within your domain unless it's to protect myself or the life of an innocent. You and yours have nothing to fear from me."

The young woman before her glanced up questioningly as though waiting for a response.

Weiss followed her gaze uneasily but saw nothing of note, which sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. Then a wave of fae magic suddenly swamped the hallway. It washed over Weiss, tickling her skin and sending her hair and clothes aflutter, before finally settling around her like a blanket.

Something brushed against her shoulder and a foreign, ethereal voice breathed into her ear, "Welcome."

Weiss flinched in surprise, forgetting that she was, in fact, still injured, and promptly regretted moving as waves of fiery pain reignited across her wounds. The pain re-intensified her hunger, causing it to grow from a dull ache to a sharp pang, and she could feel that her fangs had started to lengthen as well. If the young woman hadn't already guessed what Weiss was, she'd soon find out if Weiss didn't find some sort of sustenance soon.

Seemingly blind to Weiss's predicament, the woman looked over Weiss's shoulder at apparently nothing and grinned. She glanced back at Weiss and resumed her sing-song rhyme.

"Enter and be welcomed,

Enter and be fed,

Enter and be sheltered,

Given room and bed.

A night and a day of welcome,

A night and a day of peace,

A night and a day of comfort,

Before this protection cease."

She reached out and took Weiss's wrist once again, pulled her inside, and shut the door not a moment too soon. As soon as the door closed, both of them could hear the sound of heavy boots stampeding down the hall as Weiss's pursuers continued searching for her. The young woman locked the door and set the deadbolt and chain for good measure.

"Come on in," the young woman said when she was done. She took a moment to kick off her sneakers and haphazardly lined them up along the wall.

The corner of Weiss's eye twitched at the woman's messy carelessness. One of the woman's shoes was slanted at a thirty degree angle from the wall while the other had fallen on its side. Weiss resisted the temptation to straighten them for the entirety of five seconds before she frowned and nudged them until they both lay right side up and perfectly perpendicular to the wall like they should. Only then did she remove her own footwear, a pair of dark gray heeled boots, and laid them out just as neatly.

Meanwhile, the young woman had opened her undersized refrigerator (it was perhaps a little over five feet tall at best) and was putting away her groceries. If one could even call them that. To be honest, it didn't look like the young woman had bought very much—just a few odds and ends at most.

And upon closer inspection, Weiss couldn't help but notice the young woman's fridge was practically empty. A half-filled plastic gallon of milk. A couple of eggs sitting in the door. A small pack of undeterminable lunch meat. A few of those cheese sticks.

Today's purchases didn't add much either. The young woman had only brought back a single carton of apple juice, a loaf of sandwich bread, a pack of chocolate chip cookies, and a few cups of yogurt; and the yogurt cups, at least, had those bright orange "clearance" stickers on them.

It left Weiss feeling uncomfortable in a way she hadn't in a very long time, well aware that the clothes on her back probably cost several times more than everything in the young woman's kitchen plus some.

Not wanting to be caught staring, Weiss glanced away when the young woman started to close the refrigerator and almost wished she hadn't. The rest of the apartment was just as sparse as the inside of the young woman's refrigerator. It wasn't sterile, exactly—it did look lived in—but it also gave the impression that its inhabitant hadn't really settled in yet. It lacked those little touches that made a house look and feel like a home.

And when Weiss said "apartment," she was being generous. In all actuality, it was one of those small, one-room studio apartments—big enough for one person as long as they didn't accumulate too many belongings, but it'd be uncomfortably cozy for two.

The entryway where Weiss was still standing and the area around the small kitchenette at the far side of the apartment were tiled. The rest of the main room was carpeted. The carpet wasn't particularly plush, Weiss noted as she took a few steps deeper into the apartment, but it was still thicker than the carpet outside in the hallway. It was sandy brown, light enough to make the room seem brighter but not so light that it would show dirt easily—a smart decision for a place like this when one didn't know how neat or clean a tenant might be. The rest of the room was similarly colored with browns, tans, and creams, with the occasional dark gray for contrast.

A small, wooden rectangular table sat just inside the border of the kitchenette where the tile became carpet. Weiss surmised it was there to act as a kitchen prep station when it wasn't being used for dining. The single, mismatched folding chair tucked underneath the table told Weiss that the young woman most likely lived here alone.

The thought made Weiss stop short.

The young woman lived alone and was welcoming suspicious, blood-covered strangers into her apartment? Was she mad? It was probably rude of Weiss to be looking the gift horse in the mouth, but still. Didn't she know anything about basic safety? But then again, she did live in a building that was apparently under the protection of one of the fae, so perhaps Weiss was looking for a fire before checking if there was actually any smoke.

She pursed her lips as she continued examining the apartment. The only other doorway in the room was along the right wall, and Weiss could only assume it led to a bathroom and perhaps a laundry room.

Weiss panned her gaze to the left and froze. The cheap wooden wardrobe leaning against the wall was nothing special but laid out beside it on the floor in the corner? What she saw there made her back stiffen and her heart tighten. The young woman didn't have a bed, or even a mattress on the floor. Instead, she apparently slept on some sort of foam pad with a sleeping bag laid out on top of it. The only "luxury" of the entire arrangement was a fluffy looking pillow that seemed dreadfully out of place at the head of the sleeping bag.

Weiss quickly wrenched her eyes away, not wanting the young woman to see whatever might be in her expression. However, when she glanced around, she realized the young woman was nowhere to be seen. Weiss tilted her head ever so slightly and listened, calling upon one of the racial gifts of her kind: the ability to hear heartbeats. After a moment, she found what she sought: the young woman's heartbeat. She could hear it thrumming from somewhere beyond the doorway that Weiss had surmised led to the bathroom, moving back and forth as the young woman walked. It was so close that Weiss could almost feel it beating against her own skin.

Weiss's thoughts ground to a halt as the imagery sent a fresh wave of blood hunger through her belly and made her jaws ache even more as she fought to prevent her fangs from lengthening.

She gave herself a hard shake to distract herself and closed off that vampiric gift. This young woman was not for consumption, no matter how hungry Weiss was. It would be terribly uncouth of her to feed upon the very person who was offering her sanctuary after all. Weiss took several deep, cleansing breaths as she tried to get her body back under control.

Half a minute later, the young woman poked her head back into the main room from the doorway and waved to get Weiss's attention. There was a folded towel and a pile of clothes in her arms.

"You're in luck," the dark-haired woman said with a smile. "I just did the laundry so I've got some clean clothes for you to wear. We should be about the same size. I'll just set them on the bathroom counter for you, okay? Pretty sure you'll be a lot more comfortable after you clean up." She vanished again before Weiss could even think of refusing the offer.

Two minutes later, Weiss found herself ushered into a small, neutral-colored bathroom as her companion chattered away in front of her. It consisted of the usual: a sink and cabinet feature, a mirror, a toilet, a secondary cabinet above the toilet, and a shower. The young woman slid open the semi-opaque glass shower door.

"You're a guest so for 'a night and a day' what's mine is yours," she said. She pointed at the soap rack. "Shampoo. Conditioner. Body wash." Then she pointed to the bottom of the rack where two loofah bath sponges were hanging. "I pulled out a new one for you in case you wanted to use one. Mine's the red one so the white one's yours." She paused long enough to offer Weiss a grin. "They match us," she said as she plucked a lock of her red-tinged hair and gestured to Weiss's own platinum white.

When Weiss failed to give her a response—(how was she even supposed to respond to such an inane comment?)—the young woman's grin faltered, and she rubbed the back of her neck, clearly discomfited. It made Weiss feel rather churlish all of the sudden, but what could she do? So many things had happened within the past hour that she was struggling to keep up, much less make an effort to seem more personable to a total stranger, savior or not.

The young woman eventually continued her impromptu tour after an awkward silence. She pointed to the towels hanging on the outside of the shower door—one was red while the other was black. "Sorry, I don't have any white towels, but that's probably a good thing in this case. Now you don't have to worry about staining them." In other words, getting her abnormally dark vampire blood all over them. "Both are clean, by the way, so pick whichever you want. Just, when you're done, can you fill that bucket over there" —she pointed— "with water and leave the towel in it to soak so any stains don't have a chance to dry and set?"

Weiss finally found her voice. "If you leave me some detergent or a bar of soap, I can wash the towel out myself."

The young woman waved her hand. "Don't worry about it."

"No, really. I'll do it myself. I want to do it myself." Weiss really didn't want to budge on this. There was just something very disconcerting to making someone else clean up her blood when she could easily do it herself.

The other woman's hand crept up to the back of her neck again. "Umm...what do you know about the fae?"

Weiss blinked at the sudden change in topic. "That...they are incapable of lying and that they're beings of magic. That they keep their promises."

"Yeah, that last one's important. Like...there's very little wriggle room when it comes to them fulfilling promises unless they like the other—person, fae, or whomever—a lot."

"Meaning…?"

"You're the guest," the dark-haired woman explained. "And I'm the host, so I'm being tasked to make you feel comfortable and welcomed. Making you do your own chores isn't really how you take care of a guest."

Weiss digested that for a moment. "But making you wash a towel that I've stained with my own blood makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Oh…" The young woman didn't seem to know what to do with that information.

"I guess I can understand that," she said at last. "Umm…"

She frowned in thought. Finally, she raised her voice in question. "Silkie? What do I do?"

Weiss suddenly stiffened at the idea that someone or something had been hanging around, listening to their conversations and possibly watching them. Granted, the two of them hadn't been talking about anything important, but no one liked to be spied upon.

At first, nothing happened, but then the bathroom grew noticeably warmer. Weiss watched, feeling rather unnerved in spite of herself, as the other woman's dark hair fluttered unnaturally as though someone or something had just run its fingers through it.

The young woman glanced up to her right at seemingly nothing and beamed. Despite the chill that ran up Weiss's spine at watching the other woman interact with something Weiss couldn't detect at all, she couldn't help but notice how much warmth was in that single smile. Had Weiss ever been able to smile like that in all her long years of existence?

The young woman met Weiss's eyes again and said, "Silkie says that your comfort's paramount, so if you want to do something, even if that something is like chores, I'm supposed to let you."

Good. Something was finally going her way.

"I appre—" Weiss started to say only for the other woman to make a sharp noise and shake her head quickly.

"Don't."

Right. That was the other thing she should have remembered. Never thank a fae lest they decided your gratitude meant you felt you owed a debt to them—a debt that they would no doubt come to collect one day. But not saying anything at all felt wrong as well.

"This decision...pleases me," Weiss said at last. There. Implied thanks without actually using the words "thank you," "appreciate," "grateful," or any other synonymous word.

The young woman nodded in approval and gave her a thumbs up.

Another swirl of warm air brushed against both of them before the room returned to its normal temperature, indicating they were alone once again. Probably. Hopefully.

"Well, that's that." The other woman then somehow slipped past Weiss in the narrow space without bumping her. She opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out a large first aid box, and placed it on the toilet seat lid. "In case you want to deal with your injuries on your own," she said, her voice gentle. "If not, I'd be happy to help out after you're done cleaning up. Just give me a holler, alright?"

And with that, the young woman went out, shutting and locking the door behind her, and Weiss was left wondering just at what point had she acquiesced to taking a shower. Not that she didn't want one, but it was somewhat...disconcerting how easily she'd been swept along at the young woman's pace.

Well, at least it gives me a chance to wash the silver from my wounds, she thought as she gave a small grimace. This was not going to be fun. I'd best get this over with.

"So is it safe to thank you?" Weiss asked rather abruptly. Well, abruptly for the other woman, that is. Weiss herself had been wondering about it ever since she had been left alone in the bathroom.

Cleaning and bandaging herself up had been a painful process, but in the end, she felt better for it. In all actuality, what bothered her more was not herself, but the fact that the young woman had such an extensive first aid box that had clearly been used more than once. It had everything: sterile gauze pads, adhesive bandages of different sizes, butterfly closures, several different kinds of rolled and triangular bandages, tweezers, scissors, a bottle of rubbing alcohol for sterilizing the tweezers and scissors after use, sterilizing wipes for wounds, antiseptic cream, adhesive tape, and more. It was...concerning...to see. Was the other woman simply accident prone, or was there a different explanation as to why she'd need so many first aid supplies on-hand?

Weiss's torn and bloodied clothes eventually went into a clean trash bag she'd found beneath the sink when she went to put the first aid box away, and then she spent a good amount of time handwashing the towel she'd used to dry herself. The young woman, unfortunately, didn't seem to own a hairdryer so Weiss had no choice but to leave her waist-long tresses as they were. Once she returned to the main room, she deposited the bag with her clothes by the front door so that she wouldn't forget to take them with her when she left.

Weiss hadn't noticed it earlier because the stench of her own blood had been too strong, but now that she was clean and wearing clothes that definitely weren't her own—(a lady of her social standing simply did not own things like sweatpants or sweatshirts)—she became aware of the light fragrance of roses that permeated the air. She took a discreet sniff of her sleeve and noticed it was there, too. Perhaps it was whatever detergent the young woman used? But she could have sworn the detergent smelled like regular soap when she had used it earlier…

It was strange. Then again, nothing about this situation was ordinary.

The young woman, who had been puttering around in the kitchen until Weiss suddenly spoke up, blinked. "Uhh...what?"

Weiss tapped her foot against the carpet impatiently as she flicked a strand of her damp hair out of her face. "Is it safe to thank you?" she repeated. She held up a finger and added another with every new point. "You live in a building protected by one of the fae. Apparently, you can see through whatever glamour they're using, and I can't. You're also on speaking terms with them. The logical deduction would be that you're fae or you have fae blood."

"Oh. Well, no, I'm not. Or at least I don't think I am."

"You don't think you are?"

The young woman rubbed the back of her neck with a slight grimace. "I've tried to find out, but no one will give me a straight answer about it."

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "But that you had doubts about it in the first place indicates that you feel there's something about you that makes you more than a normal human."

The other woman leaned back against the counter behind her and fiddled with her sleeve. "You could say that."

When she didn't offer up anything else, Weiss hummed and said, "I see. Well, can you lie?"

The young woman blinked again. "Uhh...maybe? Kinda? Like, I don't like lying, so I try not to do it, but I don't get shocked by lightning or anything like that. Not that the fae get shocked by lightning, I guess. Or at least, I don't think they do, but I've never actually asked so I guess it could happen..."

Weiss just stared as the other woman tripped and stumbled over her own sentences. Weiss had never seen someone so clumsily inept at stringing words together in a logical, coherent manner. Something of Weiss's thoughts must have shown on her face because the dark-haired woman took one look at her expression and her mouth shut instantly, making Weiss feel vaguely guilty. She hadn't meant to intimidate the young woman.

The dark-haired woman looked down, took a deep breath as she fiddled with her sleeve even more nervously than before, and let the breath out slowly. Then she said more quietly, finally cutting to her conclusion, "Lying makes me really uncomfortable, but I think that's more of a me-thing than a fae-thing."

"Anyways," she continued, finally looking up again, "that test only really works on full-blooded fae or those who've inherited a significant amount of fae magic. Once other blood dilutes the fae blood, the whole cannot-lie thing gets iffy."

"And yet you're remarkably knowledgeable about it all," Weiss said, making a point not to draw attention to the other woman's social awkwardness and choosing to push the conversation along instead.

"My uncle—well, adoptive uncle, I guess since we're not actually related by blood—is fae, a crow shifter. He taught me a lot because he says that knowledge is power, and the more I know, the safer I'll be because I'll have the 'foresight'" —she made finger quotes— "to make good decisions."

"Though apparently knowing what I am isn't a part of that necessary knowledge," she grumbled under her breath, most likely to herself, but Weiss's sharp ears heard her anyway.

"Anyways," the woman continued in a normal tone, "I'm not fae so even if you thank me, I promise I won't ask for your first-born child or anything like that." She gave Weiss a nervous but tentatively playful grin.

Weiss rolled her eyes and retorted, "Thanks ever so." She offered the other woman a slight curve of her lips to take some of the acid out of her words. "But jokes aside, I really am thankful that you gave me a place to hide, and even let me borrow clothes and use your shower."

The other woman's grin turned into an honest smile. A soft smile. It looked good on her. Much better than the nervousness from earlier.

"No problem," the woman replied, "I just did what anyone would have done."

Weiss studied the young woman long enough to make her start fidgeting again. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Huh?"

There was no way the other woman was faking that look of confusion, complete with a head-tilt that reminded Weiss of a small animal. Weiss just shook her head. How was it even possible that a person like this existed? How had she lived so long without the world crushing that honest—that innocent—spirit of hers?

"Nothing," Weiss said at last. "In any case, it wouldn't do to let it be known that I don't pay off my debts." Weiss caught the other woman starting to open her mouth and cut her off before she could say anything. "Yes, I do owe you a debt. You may very well have saved my life by opening your home to me and letting me in, when you could have just as easily turned a blind eye and left me to face my fate, whatever that might have been. Doubtless, it wouldn't have been anything good, so don't argue with me." Weiss's tone was sufficiently stern enough to make the other woman shut her mouth without a sound, though she clearly looked like she wanted to argue.

"Now," Weiss continued, "tell me how I can repay you?"

The dark-haired woman frowned. She opened her mouth, closed it, and repeated that a few times. Finally, she made a small noise of frustration as she ran her fingers through her already somewhat messy hair. "Look, I really don't need anything, but if you absolutely have to do something, pay it forward."

"I beg your pardon?" Weiss was certain she must have misheard her.

The young woman jammed her hands into the big front pocket of her hoodie. "Pay it forward. The next time you come across someone you think needs a little help, just help them and we'll call it even."

"You can't be serious."

The young woman's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"

"Because—" Weiss trailed off.

Because no one was that selfless, especially in this day and age. Everyone wanted something, whether it be money, power, prestige, or material goods. And this young woman in particular could use a lot of things, judging by the barren state of her apartment, so why wasn't she asking for a reward for herself? Granted, Weiss was aware that there were people out in the world who weren't motivated by greed and self-gain, but she had never met any of them, not in the current era anyway. Therefore, their existence was little more than an abstract concept to her. Yet looking at the young woman before her, Weiss knew without a doubt that the young woman had meant every word of what she said. She was genuine.

It was so strange and so...utterly refreshing.

Weiss's expression softened in spite of herself. "Fine, I will endeavor to do so," —which earned her a grin from the other woman— "but," —and that grin vanished as quickly as it had come— "I would still like to repay you personally in some way, and I won't take 'no' for an answer."

And thus, Weiss was treated to seeing a full-grown adult pout at her like a child. Or at least Weiss assumed the other woman was an adult, although she did look fairly young—early twenties at the latest.

Weiss met that pout with a raised eyebrow and a pair of crossed arms, and simply waited.

She was Weiss Schnee, one of the handful of mages to have survived being turned into a vampire, (because for some reason, humans with even a seed magic were far less likely to survive the change than regular humans). She had lived through times of both strife and peace. She had taken more lives and had more lives taken from her than she could count. She had lived long enough to have seen the rise and fall of both powerful governments and prosperous cities.

There was no way she was going to be bested by a pouting young woman who had barely been alive for two decades.

It was actually amusing, watching the other woman's face, though Weiss made sure to school her own expression to hide any trace of that amusement. The young woman's expressions were so...vivid, like a kaleidoscope. Those silver eyes were trying to look stern and determined, but the effect was totally lost with her deepening pout. She might have gained a little intensity by crossing her arms to mirror Weiss, but not much.

Their standoff lasted a full minute before the young woman finally caved, and rather dramatically at that. Her shoulders sagged as she dropped her arms with an overly loud huff. "Fine…" she muttered, and Weiss couldn't help but smirk at her victory.

The dark-haired woman frowned, occasionally muttering to herself, as she tried to think of something to ask for. Then, suddenly she brightened with a grin that instantly made Weiss wary.

"Your name!" the young woman exclaimed, clearly proud of herself at coming up with something.

"I beg your pardon?" Weiss asked, not quite following.

"I don't know your name, and names are super important among the fae 'cause the fae believe that in giving someone your name, you're giving them a measure of power over you. That means names are like, worth something, right? So tell me your name, and we'll call it even."

Weiss was flabbergasted. "You must be joking. And didn't you just get through telling me how you weren't fae?"

"Did I?" the dark-haired woman said a little too innocently.

"You did," Weiss replied flatly.

"Actually," the woman said as she tapped her fingers together in front of her, "I think I basically told you that I don't know what I am. So I still could be fae and not know it! So you telling me your name is probably super risky 'cause you have no clue how I'm gonna use it. So it's like, a very high price to pay. That ought to be the equivalent of 'a night and a day' of shelter, right?"

And before Weiss could fully open her mouth to argue, the young woman's expression subtly hardened. "Ah-ah-ah! No buts. Don't argue with me," she said, turning Weiss's earlier words against her. "You asked me what I wanted, and this is what I want. Unless, you're an oathbreaker? If you are, Silkie might decide to throw you out. The fae don't like liars and oathbreakers, after all."

Oathbreaker—the term the fae used to denote someone who had broken faith with them. Either they reneged on a promise or outright lied to a being that they really shouldn't have lied to. Weiss vaguely remembered reading stories where the worst oathbreakers were magically branded by the fae they had crossed so that all other fae would know their sins. The oathbreaker's life would then be a long string of bad luck and misfortune, for any other fae that happened along their path would not hesitate in tormenting and playing malicious tricks on them. No fae liked an oathbreaker, and they could be cruel and inventive in their punishments.

Weiss narrowed her eyes at the woman. Had she just been outmaneuvered? Her? Weiss Schnee?

While she was fairly certain the young woman would never press the whole "oathbreaker" business, Weiss didn't know what other fae might be hiding nearby, eavesdropping on their conversation. They were the ones that Weiss needed to worry about.

Weiss drummed her fingers along her crossed arms. She still had one possible card to play. Would it work? She purposely relaxed her shoulders and arms, using her body language to feign capitulation.

"Weiss," she said at last. "My name is Weiss Schnee." She waited a moment, wondering if the young woman would recognize her last name and realize all the material riches she had just given up by sticking to her whole 'I don't need anything' spiel. The Schnee name was still plastered around on various products and was still a part of several well-known companies' names, after all.

"Weiss," the other woman said softly, as though testing out a foreign word on her tongue. Then she smiled. "Nice to meet you, Weiss."

"The pleasure's mine," Weiss said automatically, even dipping her head a fraction to make up for her inability to curtsy. She could tell her formality made the other woman uncomfortable for the young woman's smile shrank ever so slightly and she started fiddling with her sleeve again.

Weiss waited a moment and then asked lightly, "Might I have your name as well?"

Instantly, those silver eyes before her flickered with amusement and perhaps a touch of respect. Respect for what—Weiss's stubbornness? Her continued machinations in trying to steer this conversation to an agreeable outcome for herself? Weiss didn't know, but what she did know was that her ploy had been seen through. The dark-haired woman before her might be socially awkward and a somewhat self-effacing, but she clearly wasn't stupid, not in the least.

The dark-haired woman gave her a knowing look and said frankly, "As long as you accept that my name is freely given and therefore accrues no debt for either of us. Me giving you my name doesn't cancel out you giving me your name. No saying you still owe me something."

Weiss surprised herself with soft but honest laugh. This was it. The young woman had won this battle of wills and for some reason, Weiss wasn't overly upset about it. Granted, she still felt a slight prickle—she hated losing after all—but it was easily ignored.

"Fine," Weiss said. "I accept that your name is freely given." She didn't miss the other woman's shoulders finally relaxing.

"Ruby," the young woman said softly. "My name's Ruby."

Weiss leaned back on her heels. "No last name?"

The young woman, Ruby, clearly hesitated before saying simply, "It's not safe, and any other name I give you would be akin to a lie. You've been treating me in good faith thus far; I'll not lie to you if I don't have to."

Weiss studied Ruby for a moment, her mind whirling with all the possibilities as to why such a young woman might feel it was unsafe to reveal her full name. She spent another few seconds wondering whether she should push the issue and demand answers, but at the same time, she somehow felt that if she pushed too hard right now, it would only lower any esteem this young woman might have for her.

And for some reason, Weiss didn't want that.

"Well, in any case, it's been a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Ruby."

To her surprise, the young woman suddenly blushed red like her namesake and looked down. When she finally collected herself enough to glance back up, she gave Weiss one of the happiest and yet most bashful smiles she had ever seen.

"Thank you," Ruby replied with a slight waver of happiness in her voice, before turning around and starting to rummage around in the nearest cupboard, ostensibly to hide her still pink face.

Weiss just stared at the young woman's back, unsure what to make of that reaction.

Ruby had been such a confounding bundle of contradictions all evening. She was clearly not used to social interaction yet had been warm, kind, and friendly to a complete stranger. At times she seemed rather self-effacing and a touch unconfident yet that didn't stop her from crossing her arms and arguing with Weiss when she didn't agree with her. She didn't seem to have any clue how the real world worked—that she was supposed to take advantage of Weiss's willingness to pay her back for her kindness—yet she showed a great amount of intelligence and esoteric knowledge that belied her apparent naivety.

Sometimes a touch shy, most likely due to her social awkwardness, but brave and stubborn. Naive yet wise. Honest, but clearly holding secrets.

Weiss didn't think she'd been this...intrigued...by another person in a very long time. Decades, certainly. It would be something to ponder later on when she was alone.

Still half in thought, Weiss turned away, glancing around the small room again, only for her eyes to stop at the door.

"Ruby."

A clink of glass and the sound of a crinkling cellophane wrapper. "Yeah?"

There it was again—that almost giddy waver in Ruby's voice. They'd been conversing for quite a while now and at no point had the young woman ever sounded like that. What changed? Weiss quickly ran through everything that they'd talked about since she'd stepped out of the shower until she reached the one thing that was different.

Her name. Ruby had given Weiss her name, and Weiss had used it. And each time, Ruby had reacted. It was...disquieting...to consider, but was Ruby unused to hearing her own name?

Weiss had to make an effort to shake off her rising curiosity and the growing feeling that something wasn't quite right here. There were so many questions with so few answers.

Why had Ruby been so unaffected when a blood-covered stranger suddenly appeared on her doorstep? Was there a reason why she was living in a fae-protected building? Why did she have such a well-equipped first-aid kit? Why was it not safe for her to reveal her last name? Why did hearing her first name affect her so?

Unfortunately, now was not the time to ask, no matter how badly Weiss might want to know.

Weiss gave an inaudible huff of discontent before pushing all those thoughts away.

She recalled what she had wanted to ask before she'd gotten sidetracked.

"Did you happen to hear if my pursuers gave up and retreated?" she asked, making sure to let none of her inner thoughts show in her voice. "I imagine their departure would have been just as noisy as their arrival."

The sudden silence that met her query caused Weiss to glance back.

Ruby stood at the small wooden dining table, (which now had an empty glass and a big package of what looked to be chocolate chip cookies on it), with an uncomfortable expression on her face.

"What is it?" Weiss asked.

Ruby ran her fingers through her hair. "Umm...you're safe now. Your pursuers won't be bothering you anymore this night."

The odd phrasing sent alarm bells ringing in the back of Weiss's mind. "Ruby," she said carefully, noting again how the corners of Ruby's mouth quirked up slightly at the sound of her own name, "what are you saying?"

Ruby's small grin faded, and she let out a sigh before straightening and meeting Weiss's light blue eyes with her own silver ones. "Those who enter in goodwill are welcome in these halls," she recited. They were the same words she had told Weiss just before welcoming her into the apartment, but somehow they had taken on a new edge. A threatening one.

Ruby continued, unaware of Weiss's thoughts, "Those words are written on a plaque at the front of the apartment building, and they aren't just for show. They're a promise. If you don't enter the building in goodwill, you aren't welcome here, and Silkie takes her promises seriously.

"If your pursuers were lucky, Silkie let them leave the way they came in. If they weren't being careful when they entered, if they dirtied the carpet, scuffed a wall, scratched some paint, knocked something out of place—if they did anything like that, then maybe the moment they stepped off the stairs or walked through a doorway, they'd find themselves wandering a maze that looks identical to this building except they'd never be able to leave until Silkie feels like letting them go. If they were really unlucky, Silkie would let them walk straight into Elfhame and leave them there. Maybe after years of wandering they'd find themselves back here if something over there didn't decide to kill, enslave, or eat them. Or maybe they'd wander for a few hours over there only to find it's been months or years out here." Ruby's eyes were uncharacteristically solemn as she finished. "Don't ever test the fae, Weiss. And don't ever break your word when it comes to them, even if it's only implied, like a plaque on a door. Fae justice is swift, merciless, and fickle."

A chill ran up Weiss's spine in spite of herself. She almost felt sorry for the men who'd been sent after her. Almost. She would have had a bit more sympathy if they hadn't tried to kill her beforehand.

"If I ever end up meeting another fae, I will be sure to take your words into consideration," Weiss said.

Ruby nodded. "Good."

"Should I start making a habit of carrying cold iron with me?" Weiss asked, half-seriously.

Ruby actually seemed to give her offhanded comment some thought. "You could, but the fae that have made it into the cities and live alongside humans are the ones who are naturally more resistant to iron. Iron would probably affect them the same way silver affects you," she said blandly. "It would burn a little and maybe slow their healing, but they wouldn't die just from getting exposed to it."

Weiss stiffened before forcing herself to relax. "So you know what I am," she said quietly.

Ruby gave her a rather sympathetic smile. "It was kinda hard to miss."

"I suppose it was."

Ruby nodded at that. There was a brief silence, but Ruby spoke up again before it could get awkward.

"So, umm, you lost a lot of blood earlier."

Weiss gave her a sharp look that Ruby clearly ignored.

"You need to feed," the young woman said plainly.

"I do," Weiss agreed carefully, "but I will do so after I leave."

Ruby tilted her head slightly. "And when do you plan to do that?"

Weiss shot her another glance, wondering what Ruby was on about this time. Finally, she said, "Presently."

Ruby was already shaking her head. "That's not a good idea."

"Oh, and pray tell me, why not?"

"You accepted Silkie's protection for 'a night and a day,' remember? The fae can be pretty literal about these things. Not that you have to stay for the full twenty-four hours, but you practically just got here. It's been, what" —she turned and checked the digital clock on the microwave behind her— "two hours? Leaving now would be like walking into a restaurant, ordering food, waiting long enough for them to start cooking it, and then deciding to walk out before it arrives."

Weiss winced at that mental imagery. "Truly?"

Ruby nodded. "Yeah. Silkie's protection is a gift. If you snub her now, she might not be so kind the next time."

This time it was Weiss who ran her fingers through her hair, though instead of making her hair messier, she merely tucked some of it behind her ear. The nervous action did little to quell her growing trepidation though. "How long should I expect to stay then?"

Ruby gave her an apologetic look. "At least until dawn, but preferably a few hours after it. 'A night and a day,' remember? So you should stay for part of the daylight hours to let Silkie fulfill her promise properly. That's what this is mostly about, you know, letting her fulfill her promise to you."

"And so if I leave early…"

"You're forcing Silkie to be an oathbreaker of sorts. Yeah, it's not her fault if you decided to flaunt her protection, but her being unable to fulfill what she said she'd do is upsetting to her."

Weiss pressed her lips together. This was not good.

She had managed to push her hunger and the aching in her jaw away by focusing on her conversations with Ruby, but now that their conversation was reaching a quiet lull, both sensations were rushing back in full. Normally, spending a night without feeding wouldn't be a problem. Weiss could go a few days without feeding if she absolutely had to, (though she would have to spend much of that time in a vampiric state of hibernation to conserve energy), but being injured changed everything. With the number of injuries she had, she wasn't sure she could last the night. They'd mostly stopped bleeding—thank goodness—but they wouldn't start to heal until she consumed at least a little blood, and meanwhile her hunger would only grow stronger to the point where she'd be unable to think about anything but her need for blood.

"—eiss. Weiss!"

Weiss's gaze snapped up to meet Ruby's. She blinked a few times, trying to orientate herself in the present. "Y-yes?" She grimaced at the way her voice betrayed her.

"You know the solution is right in front of you, right?" Ruby said, her tone gentle.

The implication was obvious, and Weiss stiffened with the coldest glare she could muster. "Absolutely not! I'm not some newborn vampire who can't control her own hunger, much less one who would have the gall to feed upon someone who went out of their way to help her. You insult me if you think I would do anything of the sort!"

"I'm not saying you would, but I am saying that the choice might be out of your hands this time. You're hurt, and you and I both know that letting your hunger grow would be the worst possible option."

"So now you're a vampire expert, too?" Weiss spat out, her tone pure acid.

Ruby's shoulders curled inward ever so slightly, and the hand she had been resting on the table closed into a tight fist, but otherwise she gave no outward sign that Weiss's aggression bothered her. Even in her anger, Weiss was grudgingly impressed in spite of herself. She had made both men and women far older than Ruby cringe and cower in fear when she was in a temper.

"No, I'm not. But that doesn't mean I don't know anything. The fact that you're getting mad at me is a sure sign you're not doing so good. Or did you not realize your eyes have been glittering red for a while now?"

Weiss recoiled in shock before squaring her shoulders and marching to the bathroom to see for herself. When she saw herself in the mirror, she deflated. Ruby had been right. Her light blue eyes were glittering with an unnatural red light, one of the first outward signs of blood-hunger. Weiss had managed to keep her fangs hidden, but she couldn't do anything about her eyes.

Ruby entered the bathroom behind her and leaned against the open doorway. Their eyes met in the mirror, Weiss's frustrated and tortured while Ruby's were as guileless as ever.

Ruby opened her mouth and repeated something she said earlier that night—in this very bathroom, in fact. "You're a guest, so what's mine is yours."

It brought to mind something else that had been said soon after. The guest's comfort is paramount.

Weiss frowned. "You're trying to tell me something."

Ruby stuck her hands into her hoodie pocket again. "You're not the only one who made promises this night." She broke into that sing-song chant again. "Enter and be welcomed, enter and be fed, enter and be sheltered, given room and bed."

Then she returned to her normal tone of voice. "Both Silkie and I welcomed you, and we're giving you shelter. You have a room," —Ruby gestured vaguely towards the other room— "and I can pull out some extra blankets to make another makeshift bed if need be. So what's left?"

Weiss's hands curled into fists as she turned. She didn't like where this was going, but still she answered. "You promised that I would be fed."

"Yep, and if I don't offer of my own free will, I'll be an oathbreaker in the eyes of the fae, because I didn't do what I promised."

Weiss swallowed hard and crossed her arms. "But what about me being comfortable? I don't want to feed from you."

Ruby tilted her head to the side. "But are you comfortable if you're as hungry as I think you are?"

Weiss really didn't like the fact that she couldn't argue that point without lying. Ruby was right. If Weiss had to put her growing hunger against her unwillingness to feed from Ruby, her hunger would win.

Ruby seemed to study Weiss for a moment before adding softly, "If it makes you feel any better, you feeding from me is less about you and more about me."

Weiss frowned. What was that supposed to mean? "Explain yourself," she all but demanded.

Ruby shifted so that she wasn't leaning against the doorway anymore and fiddled with the strings on her hoodie. "This is a test from the fae to make sure I'm still worthy of their favor. They want to see if I'll do what I have to in order to keep a promise, even if it means putting myself on the line. They do this once in a while. You just happen to be the tool they're using this time around."

Weiss's shoulders fell. "That's not fair. You shouldn't have told me that. This is coercion."

How was she supposed to keep arguing when her refusal to accept what was being offered might mean Ruby losing favor with her fae landlords—or rather, landlady? What did losing favor even mean? Would they kick Ruby out? Rescind their protection? Drag her into the other world the next time she stepped out of line and leave her to the same fate as the men who had attacked Weiss earlier? In any case, there was no way Weiss would do anything to put her young hostess in that sort of danger if she could help it.

"Sorry," was all Ruby said in response.

Weiss glared. Ruby didn't look nearly apologetic enough. "No, you aren't."

That earned her a short-lived quirk of Ruby's lips as the young woman glanced down at nothing. "I kinda am. Nobody wants to be around when the fae get bored and start playing games, and I'm sorry that getting involved with me is what's forcing you into that position."

Weiss blinked and then frowned. What was that just now?—that borderline self-deprecating tone in the young woman's voice. It was the first time Weiss had heard Ruby sound so...downtrodden all night.

Weiss found that she didn't like it one bit.

"You saved my life," Weiss said abruptly. Her tone was sharp enough to drag Ruby's eyes up from the floor. "I downplayed things earlier, but if I were to be entirely honest, if you hadn't stepped in when you did, I would most likely have been killed or captured by those men by now—unless I resorted to taking lives to defend myself. You were right. I have lost a lot of blood and even if I had somehow managed to elude or eliminate all my pursuers, I would have still run into the problem of needing to feed. Worst-case scenario, I would have had to betray my moral code and accost some unexpecting innocent on the street.

"Ruby, I could say a number of unflattering things about this night, but getting 'involved with you,' as you put it, is far from the worst thing that happened. In fact, it might have been this night's only saving grace." She tapped her foot against the ground, trying to find the best way to put into words what she felt. She had gotten better at it over her many years of existence, but she would never consider herself good at it, especially when it came to personal rather than professional conversations.

"I don't know you, and you don't know me," she said at last. "But I've seen enough to know that if meeting you means I have to play along with some capricious but ultimately harmless fae game, then I would most assuredly do it again." And Weiss surprised herself to find she meant every word that had sprung forth from her lips wholeheartedly. A part of her was embarrassed, but apparently her embarrassment was nothing compared to Ruby's.

Ruby stared at Weiss in shock before her pale features suddenly grew noticeably rosier. "Oh," was all she could manage before she lowered her head as though she was trying to hide her blushing face in that oversized hoodie of hers.

Weiss drew in a long breath and let it out. "Ruby, if you were serious about offering me a portion of your blood…"

Ruby, who was still rather pink, stuttered out, "I was! I mean, I am!"

Weiss gave her a slow, regal nod. "Then I accept."

Weiss still didn't like the idea of feeding from her young savior, but there were greater powers at work here, if Ruby's earlier words were to be believed. If the fae truly did favor this young woman, then Weiss would not be the one to make her lose that favor. Putting aside her personal feelings was but a small price to pay to ensure Ruby could continue to live in this building safely.

"So, umm...how's this gonna work?" Ruby asked after pouring herself some apple juice to drink after Weiss finished feeding.

Weiss was still trying to decide whether she ought to be annoyed or faintly amused that Ruby had already decided that Weiss was going to capitulate to all this and that was why she'd taken out that empty glass and package of cookies earlier. It was so rare for someone else to get the better of Weiss these days, and this young woman had done so not only once, but twice this night.

Ruby had also thought ahead enough to fetch a second folding chair from the small laundry room at the other end of the hallway, and set it up near the other one.

Weiss gestured to the two chairs. "It'll be easier if we sit." To her rather pleasant surprise, Ruby nodded and then promptly pulled out the nearest chair for Weiss to sit down first. Weiss wondered for a moment if the action was merely an extension of Ruby's promise to welcome her as a guest or if Ruby was just that courteous. She privately chose to believe it was more the latter than the former.

As soon as Weiss seemed comfortable, Ruby plopped herself down into the other chair.

"It's best if I feed from your non-dominant arm; here, to be precise," Weiss said as she tapped the fleshiest part of her inner forearm, just below her elbow. "I'll be healing any damage, but you should still avoid using the arm to do anything strenuous for the rest of the night."

"Right. Then that would be my right arm." Ruby started rolling up the sleeve in question.

"You're left-handed?"

"Yep. What about you?"

"Coincidentally enough, the same as you."

Ruby grinned at that. "Cool, another lefty."

"Indeed." Weiss couldn't help but offer her own tiny smile at the way the young woman had taken such simple pleasure in such an insignificant detail.

Ruby finished rolling up her sleeve and held the arm out for Weiss expectantly.

Weiss shifted her chair so that she sat at a more comfortable angle and took the proffered limb with gentle hands.

As embarrassing as it was, Weiss's body was already primed for a feeding and it was not shy about letting her know; so as soon as she touched Ruby's skin, she could feel the young woman's pulse as clearly as if it were her own. It was an evolutionary adaptation that let a feeding vampire know when they were starting to take a dangerous amount of blood (for a human's heart and respiratory rates would go up once they lost more than fifteen percent of their total blood volume). Feeding from a single human to the point where they died was not a good survival strategy, after all, as it meant a loss of future potential prey. It was better to partake a smaller amount from several humans so that they would live on to serve as another meal someday, as morbid as the thought was.

Weiss frowned inwardly. Ruby's pulse was rather fast. It was then that Weiss also realized Ruby's arm was trembling ever so slightly—her cheerful tone and apparent easy-going acceptance of this whole situation only seconds earlier notwithstanding.

"You're scared," Weiss said as she lowered Ruby's arm and shifted her grip so that she had Ruby's trembling hand clasped in her own. Her stomach clenched painfully in protest that its meal was being delayed, but Weiss ignored it. She had already waited this long; she could wait a few moments longer. This was more important.

Wordlessly, she started caressing the young woman's hand gently with her thumb, running it across her knuckles and the back of her hand in soothing patterns.

Ruby gave a nervous little laugh that hurt to hear. "Maybe a bit," she admitted before she returned to worrying at the corner of her lips.

Weiss gave Ruby's hand a gentle squeeze and continued her ministrations. "You've never donated blood to a vampire before?"

Ruby shook her head as her eyes traced the movement of Weiss's thumb across the back of her hand. "Never really interacted with one until, well, today. I've seen a few—mostly ones who were on dates with their human companions. You can tell 'cause they never order anything even though they come by the diner fairly regularly. The diner—that's where I work—is open twenty-four seven so it's a nice, cheaper place with decent food for vampire-human couples to meet up."

If they were actually couples, Weiss thought cynically. More likely it was part of a blood donation agreement. It wouldn't be the first time a human wanted to feel special by bragging they had a vampire boy- or girlfriend, and the vampire would go on dates with them in exchange for an occasional feeding. Not that she was going to tell Ruby that.

Instead, all she said was, "I see."

She ushered their conversation back on course, making sure to keep her voice calm, gentle, and non-judgemental. "Talk to me. What's going through your mind right now?"

Ruby hesitated.

"Ruby," Weiss said with a stern look.

Ruby's gaze dropped to her lap. "I don't like pain," she mumbled.

"Good," Weiss replied. "Neither do I. And thankfully, this doesn't have to hurt."

Ruby's gaze lifted. "I heard about that," she said, "but I wasn't sure if it was true or not. The pain thing at least. My uncle already told me about how you should always avoid looking directly into a vampire's eyes."

"He was wise to tell you that. All vampires have the ability to hold someone in a temporary thrall through direct line of sight, though some are better at it than others. The thrall can be broken, of course, provided you have a strong will, but it's much easier to avoid getting caught in the first place."

Weiss gave Ruby's hand another soothing caress. "With your permission, Ruby, I will make it so you feel no pain through the feeding."

"And I'll still be aware?"

"If you wish. Or I can make it so you don't remember it at all, if that's preferable." Weiss paused. "But I hope you don't."

A look of curiosity crossed Ruby's face, temporarily banishing her nervousness. "Why's that?"

"Because," Weiss said quietly, "this is sacred to me. I'll admit, it didn't used to be when I was much younger, but now that I'm older, now that I've lived longer and experienced so much more, I've come to view it as such. You are giving me a portion of your life so that I may live. But it's a gift that would taste bitter if taken under duress. If the person I'm feeding from is so reluctant that they wish to not remember it at all, how do you suppose that would make me feel?"

That clearly resonated with something within Ruby. "I would feel like a horrible person," she admitted.

Weiss gave her a half-curve of her lips. "You understand me well. It would be no different than accosting a random person on the street and taking their blood with nary a thought to morality."

Ruby closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. When she opened those silver eyes of hers again, she was noticeably calmer, though still not quite calm. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips, before she said, "I'm still a little nervous. I don't think I can help that."

Then she surprised Weiss by shifting their hands so that one of Weiss's hands was now cradled in Ruby's. Ruby gave the hand she held a squeeze. "But I want to do this." Even though the young woman's voice was quiet, Weiss could hear the underlying steel. "You're hurting right now, and if I can help ease that pain and heal you, I want to."

The genuine, heartfelt sincerity of Ruby's words struck Weiss hard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had brought the young woman's hand to her lips and pressed a butterfly-light kiss to the back of her hand. It was a gesture from her youth that demonstrated that a gentleman had the utmost respect for a lady. Weiss was no gentleman, and it was a practice that had all but died in the current era, but Weiss had to do something to show how touched she was. Words just weren't enough to express how full her heart felt right now.

This whole night had been nothing short of a disaster, but even in the midst of all the stress-inducing chaos, she had been lucky enough to encounter something pure and good. It was honest kindness, plain and simple. There were no machinations, no underlying desires for some sort of reward, no expectations. There was only one uncomplicated truth: the desire of one young woman to help in any way she could because she could.

When Weiss glanced up after drawing her lips away from Ruby's hand, she saw the young woman's face was flushed red and her mouth was gaping open like a fish.

If Weiss wasn't so lacking in blood herself, she imagined her own face might have been tinted pink.

Weiss cleared her throat to make sure her own embarrassment didn't reveal itself when she opened her mouth to speak again. "Thank you," she murmured as she lowered Ruby's hand.

Ruby's mouth opened and closed a few more times before she gave herself a little shake. "Sure, uh, no problem. Anytime. Um, yeah...I'll just...yeah." She floundered to a halt.

Weiss hid a small smile as she gave the young woman a few moments to calm herself down. Then she said simply, "Whenever you're ready."

Ruby sobered almost immediately, though her cheeks were still rather rosy. She took another deep breath and then nodded. "I'm ready."

Weiss gave her a nod of acknowledgement. Then she caught Ruby's eyes with her own and summoned her vampiric power. Her voice deepened, and she knew her eyes were probably glowing red. "Ruby, I promise this will not hurt you. You might feel a slight pressure, but no pain—not even a pinch. Thank you for this gift of life, Ruby. I will do all that's in my power to ensure that I do not squander it."

Weiss held Ruby's gaze until she was certain the hypnotic thrall had taken. (To her surprise, it took a few seconds longer than she expected. Perhaps Ruby was one of the few humans who were naturally resistant to a vampire's thrall?) Then she gave Ruby's hand one last comforting caress before raising the young woman's arm to her mouth.

Relief washed across her entire jaw as she finally freed her fangs, the same kind of relief one might feel when stretching a stiff muscle or a kink in one's spine. Not wanting to drag the moment out when Ruby was so clearly nervous, she sank her fangs into the young woman's inner forearm without further ado.

Ruby's entire body stiffened in an instant, and Weiss felt the young woman's hand clench into a fist. Weiss continued to support Ruby's outstretched arm with her left hand, but she took her right hand and used it to brush her fingers against Ruby's wrist to get her to relax. When she felt Ruby's tight grip loosen, Weiss slid her own fingers into Ruby's hand. Their positioning was a little awkward and a touch uncomfortable, but Weiss was soon rewarded for her efforts when Ruby's fingers latched onto hers—not tightly, but definitely securely. Weiss brushed her thumb comfortingly against the back of Ruby's hand once more, before she turned her full attention to feeding.

A vampire's fangs existed to inject a potent, localized anticoagulant that would keep a person's blood flowing during a feeding. Weiss kept her fangs in place for a few seconds longer before finally withdrawing them. Their task now completed, they shrank back down to their regular length, allowing Weiss to seal her mouth over the wound site and drink her fill.

The first few drops of blood to touch her tongue made her eyes widen before they closed as a slight, almost imperceptible shiver of raw pleasure swept through her. Words could not describe the taste and feel of this young woman's blood. It was both light and thick all at once—like the finest ambrosia, perhaps, or a nectar that was halfway on its way to becoming honey.

Weiss had never had blood that was this, well, good, before. It was clear, clean, pure, rejuvenating, and more than anything else, incredibly potent. With just a single mouthful of that sweet, wonderful blood, Weiss could already feel her wounds starting to knit together and heal. At the rate she was healing, Weiss wouldn't need nearly as much as she usually would for her injuries to heal, so she took her time (though not without a tiny twinge of guilt). She drew blood from Ruby's arm slowly, letting the luxurious liquid flow over her tongue so that she could savor the taste of each and every drop before swallowing it down.

It was only when Weiss felt the last of her wounds close and her stomach was pleasantly filled that she gave an internal sigh of regret. She ran her tongue across the two points where her fangs entered until they stopped bleeding (for a vampire's saliva counteracted the injected anticoagulant). Then she summoned her fangs once more, sliced open the tip of her tongue, and used the potent regenerative properties of her vampire blood to heal both wounds instantly. She was so well fed that her tongue healed itself in mere seconds. She kept her mouth there for a moment longer to make sure she got every residual drop of Ruby's blood before finally pulling away.

Ruby blinked owlishly, the hypnotic thrall fading as Weiss withdrew her vampiric powers at the same time.

"You're done?" the young woman asked after she rubbed her face with her other hand as though just waking up.

"I am. Thank you. Stay there a moment, and don't touch your arm!"

Weiss gave Ruby a stern look, causing Ruby to guiltily withdraw her left hand from where it had been hovering towards the place where Weiss had just fed from. Satisfied that the young woman had been sufficiently cowed, Weiss rose and turned around, eyeing the various drawers and cabinets in the kitchen.

"Ruby, do you have any clean washcloths or towels?"

"Umm...bottom drawer, right of the sink cabinet."

Weiss pulled open the drawer and pulled out the softest towel she could find, which, unfortunately, wasn't particularly soft at all. It would have to do for now though. She ran the towel under the faucet using cold water, wrung out just enough water so that the towel was no longer dripping, and brought it back to the table. She sat back down and gently took Ruby's arm. Using the lightest of touches, she carefully cleansed Ruby's arm. When she was done, she put the towel aside.

"Drink your juice, Ruby," Weiss ordered, "and tell me how you're feeling."

Ruby did as she was told and drained about half the apple juice before she stopped to answer. "A little floaty, but otherwise fine."

"No dizziness or nausea?"

Ruby started to shake her head and then seemed to think better of it, judging by the way she winced slightly. "No. My arm feels funny though."

"It will for a while," Weiss told her. "No hot shower tonight; you can take a mildly warm one in the morning if you must."

"Showered already," Ruby mumbled. She was looking a little peaked in spite of her earlier words.

Weiss reached over, opened the package of cookies on the table, and slid it in front of the young woman. Taking the hint, Ruby (to Weiss's wide-eyed shock) began to inhale the cookies. She finished a whole row of twelve cookies in two minutes.

"Are you even chewing those?" Weiss couldn't help but ask.

Ruby mumbled something through a mouthful of cookie, which earned her a glare. Sheepishly, she swallowed and after taking another sip of juice she said, "I like cookies…"

"I can see that. But that's enough for now. Finish your juice. I want you to lie down for a while."

"But cookies…" the young woman whined plaintively.

Weiss just crossed her arms and gave her a look.

"But...lying down sounds great, too!"

Weiss hid her smile at the woman's antics. "Finish your juice," she said again, "and then wait for me. Don't try to stand until I get back. I didn't take that much blood from you, but this was your first time giving blood and you probably don't weigh much besides. I don't want to risk you getting dizzy from standing too fast or feeling faint."

As soon as Ruby gave her assent, Weiss walked over to Ruby's sleeping bag arrangement and frowned. It would be best if Ruby could elevate her feet while lying down, but she only had the one pillow. But didn't she say something earlier about having extra blankets somewhere?

"Ruby, where do you keep your spare blankets?"

Ruby pointed to the wardrobe at the foot of her sleeping bag. "In there on the top shelf."

Weiss fetched one, and folded it again so that it was roughly six inches thick and set it up approximately where Ruby's feet would be if she were to lie down. Then she helped Ruby up, escorted her to her sleeping bag, and helped her lie down.

It was only after Ruby was fully settled and Weiss was kneeling beside her to keep her company that Weiss voiced something she'd been thinking about since her feeding.

Weiss glanced down at Ruby and asked, "You said before that you don't know what you are?"

"Mmhmm. Yeah. My uncle won't tell me and asking the other fae is dangerous—assuming they even know the answer, that is. Information is a form of currency for them, so if I asked them, they might ask for too high a price in exchange. It's too dangerous when I don't really need to know the answer. I'm just curious."

"I see. Well, I can give you a fraction of the answer. Whatever you are, you're definitely not human. If you do have any human blood in you, it's so diluted that I can't taste it."

Ruby snorted. "That's so weird," she said, her voice soft and borderline sleepy. "But I guess that makes sense since chicken doesn't taste much like pork or beef."

"Indeed," Weiss replied as a smile threatened to work its way out from inside of her. Again, she marveled at how refreshing Ruby's outlook was. It was just so...straightforward. No mincing words, no awkwardness, not even a hint of fear considering they were basically talking about Weiss consuming a part of her.

When was the last time Weiss met anyone new who didn't look upon her with fear, hatred, or disgust once they discovered what she was?—she wondered.

It was a thought that stayed with her for the rest of the night.

Chapter 1.5 — Epilogue

Ruby fought back a huge yawn as she waved goodbye to Weiss, her eyes blinking blearily as she did so.

It was six-thirty in the morning. The sun had just come up, and Weiss wanted to leave before it rose too much higher. Apparently, Weiss was a very old vampire so she didn't have to fall asleep with the sun anymore, but she admitted that she grew drowsy as the sun reached its zenith and often napped in the middle of the day. Vampires also lost some of their abilities when the sun was up, so Weiss wanted to get someplace safe before the sun really started to sap her strength.

"Go get some sleep, Ruby. You're sleep-addled," Weiss said to her as she slipped on those fancy gray boots of hers and grabbed the trash bag that had her ruined clothing inside.

"Still beat you though…" Ruby mumbled through a haze of sleepy exhaustion.

After Weiss made her lay down for a good thirty minutes or so after her "blood donation" the night before, Ruby popped back up and dragged a mildly protesting Weiss back to the dining table. After stuffing a few more cookies into her mouth, Ruby pulled out the 160 colored pencil set and sketchbook she'd gotten as gifts from her co-workers for her last birthday, and tore out a few blank pages from the back of the sketchbook. She then proceeded to challenge Weiss to a whole bunch of pen-and-paper games to pass the long night. (Predictably, Weiss used a light blue colored pencil as her color for their various games while Ruby picked red.)

It might have been way past Ruby's bedtime, but there was no way she was just going to go to sleep and leave her nocturnal guest to spend the night all by her lonesome. That just wasn't right. Maybe Ruby would have considered it if she at least had a couple of books or magazines for Weiss to read or glance through, but Ruby really didn't have much in terms of entertainment—just her sketchbook, colored pencils, and the radio on the kitchen counter.

Weiss wouldn't agree to play at first, but Ruby managed to out-stubborn her and taught her how to play the handful of games she remembered from her childhood. They played several games each of Dots and Boxes, Grimm Hunters, SOS, Connect Four, and even Hangman. The two of them got super into Grimm Hunters. There was just something immensely satisfying about wiping out your enemy's army of Grimm before they managed to take out yours. They each won twice before Ruby won the fifth, tie-breaking game.

Ruby couldn't hold back her silly little grin when Weiss rose after slipping on her boots and planted her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?" Weiss said, her light blue eyes flashing. "You've played the game before and thus had an unfair advantage! Next time you won't be nearly as lucky!"

"Mmhmm," Ruby said as she rubbed her face with one hand in an effort to stay awake. "Don't forget your picture." She held it out for Weiss to take.

In between their pen-and-paper games, Ruby had gotten up every now and then to get another snack or drink, (staying up late always gave her the munchies, after all), and occasionally take a trip to the bathroom. While she waited for Ruby to return, Weiss had taken to slowly flipping through the rest of Ruby's sketchbook. Most of the pages were filled with simple sketches and doodles, but the later pages had a few colored pieces of art.

When Weiss had finished glancing through the entire sketchbook once, she flipped back to one of the few pieces Ruby had done in full color. It was a mountainscape with the morning sun peeking over the eastern-most snow-covered peaks. When Ruby asked her if she liked it, Weiss told her quietly that it reminded her of the place she had been born—the place of her childhood. After that, it had been an easy enough decision to carefully tear the picture out and offer it to Weiss to take home with her. Ruby didn't need it, and at least Weiss might take it out and look at it every once in a while. And to Ruby's great surprise, Weiss didn't even bother arguing for once. The platinum-haired woman just stared at the picture for a good eight seconds before accepting it with a quiet 'thank you.'

"Indeed," Weiss said as she carefully accepted the picture, taking great care not to crinkle it. "Now seriously, go get some rest. You've already gone above and beyond in making me feel welcome and comfortable during my stay. No need to walk me out to the curb as well."

"You sure?"

"'You're sure,'" Weiss corrected before adding, "and yes, I'm sure. Good night, Ruby. Sleep well."

Ruby gave her sleepy grin. "Good morning, Weiss. Get home safe."

It won her a faint look of amusement before Weiss finally stepped out of the apartment and let the door close behind her.

Once Ruby was one hundred percent sure Weiss was gone, her entire body sagged. She was so tired. She wasn't used to talking to people one-on-one. Sure, she worked at a diner, which required her to talk to all sorts of people, but she'd already worked out a system for that. Smile, say 'hi,' take orders, maybe exchange a few words now and then with her co-workers, and then head home for the day. Even if she did end up having to chat with customers, it was more them talking and her listening.

With Weiss, though, Ruby had to think on her feet a lot more, because the last thing Ruby wanted to do was say the wrong thing. Not to say she regretted letting Weiss in to hide from her pursuers, or even pulling that all-nighter to keep her company—far from it—but that didn't mean she wasn't exhausted beyond measure right now.

Ruby closed her eyes and gave another jaw-cracking yawn. She started to turn away from the door when a flash of white flickered at the corner of her vision. She turned back to the door and blinked.

"Uhh...Weiss left already."

It was the female spirit that had been following Weiss around. The spirit shared Weiss's platinum white hair and light blue eyes so Ruby assumed they were somehow related. She was a lot taller than Weiss though—maybe half a head taller or so—and the majority of her hair was pulled back into a strict bun. However, whereas Weiss's bangs were evenly cut across her brow, the female spirit's longer bangs were styled to the right, framing her face, excluding a single curled lock of hair that hung down by her left ear.

"I am aware," the spirit said concisely.

And apparently, the spirit shared Weiss's love of clear, precise, stiff speech patterns.

The two of them examined one another, Ruby with confusion and the spirit with what Ruby's tired mind barely recognized as professional interest. Normally, Ruby would have been a lot more nervous at being scrutinized so, but she was so sleep-deprived that she just sort of stared back.

Finally, Ruby asked, "Aren't you gonna go with her? You're like her guardian spirit, right?"

There was a flicker of something in the spirit's eyes, but it vanished too quickly for Ruby to read.

"One could hope, but no. I lack that level of power," the spirit said at last, her voice quiet.

"Oh…" Ruby didn't know what to say to that.

"I will follow her presently," the spirit continued, "but I wished to exchange a word or two with you before I left. Weiss is safe enough right now. The men chasing after her haven't resurfaced yet, and as far as I can tell, there are no watchers on this apartment."

"There wouldn't be," Ruby told her as she fought back another yawn. "There's a sort of enchantment on the building. Sort of makes people forget it's there. If there were watchers, they would have eventually found themselves wondering why they were on this street and once they left the immediate area, they wouldn't be able to find the building again."

The spirit's brow raised at that. "Does that mean Weiss will be unable to find her way back here?"

Ruby's own brow furrowed. Why would Weiss even want to come back?—she wondered. Still, she answered. "That's a bit different. Silkie welcomed her in; plus she has a connection to the inside of the building."

"A connection?"

Ruby nodded. "Me. She met me, talked with me, broke bread with me—well, in spirit anyways—and was welcomed into my home. That kind of thing creates a connection between people, and I don't even know how her vampire powers would figure into all this."

"They don't. She would have to sup from you repeatedly and often to create any sort of bond with you, and that bond would only make her more sensitive to your presence. Forgive the analogy, but it would be akin to having a new favorite food, memorizing its scent, and being able to recognize that scent anywhere."

"Oh." Well, Ruby could understand that. It was like her and bakeries. As long as she smelled even the slightest hint of freshly baked goods, she could find any nearby bakery in under five minutes.

"Well anyway," Ruby continued, "the connection will last until the day I fade from her memories. I mean, she'll still remember me and the things we did together, but she'll suddenly realize she doesn't quite remember when or where she met me."

"I see. Thank you for explaining." The spirit suddenly straightened, seeming to gain a whole 'nother inch as she crossed her arms behind her. "I came back for a different reason than discussing fae magic, though I will admit it is quite fascinating. Perhaps we might continue this conversation at a later date."

"Oh, uh, sure, if you want, I guess…"

"I do. It has been a very long time since I've encountered anyone who was aware of my existence and even fewer have been able to see me as clearly as you seem to be able to. Tell me, how clearly do you see me?"

"You look like Weiss," Ruby said quietly. "You could be her cousin, sister, or even mother."

"I am indeed one of those." The spirit put a hand over her heart and gave a brief bow. "My name is Winter Schnee, elder sister of Weiss Schnee."

Ruby felt a sharp pang in her heart at Winter's words. She tried to shove it away quickly, but she was too late to avoid the flash of golden curls and the pair of warm lilac eyes that rose up from the depths of her memories. Ruby drew in a stuttered breath. No, she couldn't think about her right now—not when Ruby was so tired and her equilibrium was so out of whack. Ruby took another, much steadier breath and forced herself to focus on Winter, who was still speaking.

"Weiss is the one thing I cared for most in life, and she is still the center of my existence even now. I wished to thank you for offering her sanctuary."

Ruby ruffled her hair awkwardly, not happy to be going through this conversation a second time. "I did what anyone would do, so you don't really have to thank me."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not." Winter craned her head slightly. "I also wished to thank you for staying up with her all night even though you were scheduled to work today. Left to her own devices, she would have worried herself sick if you hadn't kept her occupied."

Well of course, she had. Ruby knew how bad a long, sleepless night could be. There was just something about being alone—surrounded by stillness, darkness, and silence—that preyed on the mind and often made bad things seem worse than they did during the light of day. Weiss had just been attacked and chased through the city. There was no way Ruby would leave her alone to brood if she could help it.

However, there was something else in Winter's statement that was far more troubling and caused Ruby to stiffen. She took a step back. "How do you know my work schedule?" she demanded as a thread of fear and unease worked its way up her spine.

Winter cocked an eyebrow. "There's a calendar on the side of your refrigerator with your work schedule penciled in."

Well, okay; that made sense, but— "You were snooping around my apartment?"

"It's not snooping if it's displayed out in the open for anyone to see," Winter replied plainly.

Oh no, she did not get to use the logic button again. Ruby was irritated and was determined to stay irritated. (The more sensible part of her realized she was just cranky from no sleep, but she stubbornly ignored it.)

"When did you even have a chance to do that?" Ruby said, her voice rising. "You left! I saw you walk through the door when I went to fetch Weiss so she could shower!"

"I did," Winter agreed, "but after I finished scouting out the surrounding area to ensure the apartment was secured, I returned. You were busy talking Weiss into accepting your blood when I came back."

"But I didn't see you!"

"No, you didn't. Weiss deserved your full attention, and I didn't want you to be distracted by my presence, so I stayed out of sight."

"So you were here the whole time?"

"I was," she said with a nod, "but we're getting off topic. However, before we continue, shouldn't you call your place of work and let them know you won't be coming in today? That is the usual procedure, yes? I imagine they'll want the extra time so that they can call someone in to replace you if need be."

Ruby's gaze instantly dropped to the ground, and she could feel Winter's annoyingly discerning eyes on her. She rubbed the back of her neck and finally grumbled, "I don't have a phone and even if I did, I need the hours. It's a half-day anyways. I just need to make it 'til noon, and then I can come home and sleep. Not that it's any of your business." She was still irked that Winter had been hanging around—snooping around—without her noticing it.

Speaking of which…

"Does Weiss know you're still here—you know, that you're a spirit?" Ruby asked abruptly.

A hint of sadness flashed through Winter's eyes before she managed to school her expression. "No, she does not, and I would prefer if you did not tell her. She is far too soft for her own good, and knowing I've been here unseen for as long as I have would cause her distress."

Ruby rubbed at her face again, half in exhaustion and half in frustration. "Dunno why you think I'll be seeing her again, much less talking to her again, but alright. But from now on, I'm calling you Snoopy."

"Snoopy?" Ruby was surprised in spite of herself to hear a bubble of laughter in the spirit's shocked voice.

"Yeah, Snoopy," Ruby said into her hands. She glanced up tiredly to see those pale blue eyes had widened in bewilderment. "Because you snooped around my apartment without asking. And because if I get into the habit of calling you Winter, it might slip out later when I don't mean it to. So from now on, you're Snoopy," she finished, her voice adamant.

Winter blinked a few times, her mouth slightly open, before she suddenly gave an unexpected chuckle. "Very well. You offered safety, shelter, and sustenance to my younger sister, and you offered them freely. I suppose I can survive such an ignoble nickname."

Winter chuckled a few more times before sobering, though the lightness in her eyes still hinted at her mild amusement. The rest of her expression, however, had grown more serious.

"Young Ruby," she began. "You saved my sister's life—protected her when I could not. That is a debt that I could never hope to repay, but still I will try."

Ruby barely had time to blink before Winter was suddenly right in front of her, her ethereal form glowing brighter than ever. The towering spirit raised her hand and shoved it into Ruby's chest.

"Waugh!" Panicking, Ruby shoved herself backwards violently in an attempt to break the spell before it could fully entrench itself, but too late. Even as she landed on the floor with a painful thud, she could feel the threads of Winter's power weaving themselves into a portion of her soul, a small spot of energy that tasted of cold air and felt utterly foreign. It was all over in less than a heartbeat, but Ruby was already gasping for air as her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest.

"What'd you do?!" Ruby scrambled away to create more distance between Winter and herself.

"I granted you a boon."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"It means all you have to do is call my name, and I will come to your aid—unless Weiss is in danger. As much as I'd like to repay you for sheltering my sister, it would all be meaningless if she were to get hurt while I was helping you."

Ruby was starting to feel nauseous. No sleep after donating blood to Weiss, coupled with her rising panic was not a good combination. She struggled to breathe so that she could at least try to calm her racing heart.

"And you couldn't just ask before you did whatever you did?"

Winter tilted her head. "I considered it, but then decided against it. You argued quite stubbornly with my sister when she also offered to repay you for your kindness, after all. I have neither the time nor inclination to remain here long enough to win such an argument." Winter's eyes were a little too discerning for Ruby's liking and her expression grew thoughtful. "You are unused to accepting help, aren't you?"

Something inside Ruby squirmed uncomfortably. "So? I don't need help. I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt you can, but I offer my assistance nonetheless. Call upon me or don't, it's your decision. Unfortunately, I am not particularly powerful, but what I can do I've learned to do well. Being unseen as I am by most other beings, I excel at reconnaissance and scouting. Furthermore, I can cause poltergeist phenomena to occur, but I will admit that it takes much of my strength and that I will be near useless afterwards."

Winter's expression softened ever so slightly. "Take care, young Ruby. I hope that the next time we meet will be under less strenuous circumstances." With that, the spirit turned and walked right through the apartment door, presumably to meet back up with her sister.

Ruby remained there on the floor, just staring at the spot through which Winter had vanished for a few minutes longer. Then she let out a loud groan as she curled up, hiding her face in her knees.

She really didn't need this right now. It was way too early, she was way too tired, and she still had to get ready for work. She leaned backwards until she lay flat on the floor and rolled over onto her stomach to try and see the clock. Except she couldn't because the stupid dining table was in the way.

She let out a second groan as she buried her face into the carpet, trying to avoid reality for even just a few minutes. She could already tell it was going to be one of those days.

But even so…

Her mind played back the entire night starting from when Weiss crashed into her in the apartment hallway.

It wasn't all bad. She'd been able to help someone who needed help.

She took a deep breath and let it out.

Yeah, things would be fine. She just needed to get through her shift at the diner, and then she could rest. First things first though; she needed a cold shower and a cup of coffee to wake herself up.

Slowly, Ruby pushed herself to her feet and wandered into the kitchen to officially start her day.

A/N: So...my interpretation of the prompt for this chapter, FIRST, is all over the place so take your pick, lol. First encounter, first step into a new world, first expression of kindness on both sides, first spark of interest, first, first, first, first. :) I really hope that each and every one of you found a "first" that you enjoyed. [Or I suppose we could argue that the prompt was "coffee" due to the epilogue since that was the other possible prompt for Day 1 of White Rose Week. Your choice. ;) ]

And now the big question...Did you like it? Please, please, PLEASE leave a comment and let me know.

What was your favorite scene and why? Do you have a least favorite scene and why? How's my writing? Are there any parts that you think need work or don't really need to be there? Or conversely, are there any parts that made you go "wow, this is great!"? Are you excited for the rest of the work or did you feel like you've read this story already?

Lastly, I don't know how quickly this story is going to update, and I'm definitely not going to be able to finish the next chapter before White Rose Week ends, unfortunately. But as long as there's interest, I'll do my best to stick with it. Thank you so much checking out this story, and hopefully I'll see you all again the next chapter. :)

P.S. — If anyone was wondering what the pen-and-paper game, Grimm Hunters, Weiss and Ruby played was, it's basically Battleship. I was going to do a whole segment for it, but the chapter just kept getting longer and longer so it got cut, hahaha...