#it’s a shame the whole no trades without consent thing couldn’t be put to use this week after all those random ass disappointing trades | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

texanredrose · 8 years ago

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Aaaaaaand the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU continues. I think I’m going to stick with the name ‘Queens of Vale’. It’s either that or keep calling it the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU and that’s a lot to fucking type. Plus, the acronym makes me laugh too much. (I got you, FAMAU, lol, wtf is wrong with me.) So... yeah. Here ya go. Bonding shenanigans.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 (here) / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

A cold wind whipped through the trees, rustling bare branches and sending a few dead ones tumbling to the ground while dense grey clouds churned overhead, obscuring the sunlight and adding to the dreary feel of the day. In Atlas, such weather would be considered mild at worst and pleasant at best, a welcomed reprieve from the harsh storms that ushered in the cold season and brought snow up to one's knees and waist, but here in Vale, many residents took it as a sign that the winter would be severe, the children staying indoors while the adults bundled themselves in layers of clothing against the low temperatures. Smoke billowed up from every house in the village and a thinner column rose from the spot in the forest where the blonde's childhood home stood, but Weiss couldn't help but feel grateful they weren't inside.

Despite living in the warmer country for months, she could still feel the lingering effects from her homeland and opted for a much different ensemble compared to the others; she wore a simple, long sleeved white dress that brushed the tops of her shoes, the fabric split at the waist to allow ease of movement, and thin white pants to match, both with light blue around the hem and the little wooden ties fastened at her shoulder. Faintly- so much so she hadn't noticed herself until running her hands over the fabric- a dragon design was stitched into the dress with white thread, its tail curling around one ankle and wrapping around her waist, sweeping its way up so its neck slipped over one shoulder and the head rested over her heart. On her back, blue thread outlined her customary snowflake, and while the whole outfit was probably intended for spring or early fall, she couldn't help but relish the sharp bite of cold air filtering through the silk, a faint reminder of her home without the unwanted memories of cold, empty halls and even colder eyes.

Yang, on the other hand, looked like a knight in soft armor, bracing against the weather as best she could. Gloves and thick boots accompanied her heavy cloak and the extra tunic she wore under her vest, all dyed brown or a faded yellow, and Ember Celica's straps had to be loosened a hole to accommodate the extra padding. She even had the orange fabric Ember Celica usually rested upon while they slept wrapped around her neck and pulled up, the hood of her cloak down low to shield her face and leaving all but the sliver of skin around her eyes hidden away.

The weather had turned much colder in the days following their reconciliation, forcing the blonde out into the forest alongside her father and Ghira to help harvest the last of the wood needed before winter began in earnest. Weiss wasn't left without things to do, of course. She cleaned the house while the others were out, regaining her strength and endurance along the way, and she managed to find some old books that helped further her written Valen, the characters simple enough for her to copy and understand. When the three returned bearing bundles of wood bound by leather straps, she helped stack them by the house or took them into the village with her wife, passing them out to those who needed them. News of her recovery preceded her, with many of the villagers offering her little tokens and charms in addition to whatever they gave Yang as trade for the wood, and now she had a nice little collection of various trinkets beseeching the Fall Maiden's mercy arranged on the dresser where Myrtenaster rested. After their burdens were distributed, they returned to the little house while the sun began to set and settled in for the night. The Atlesian had insisted Yang write a letter to Blake before the Faunus returned to his kingdom, so Yang spent the time bent over a scroll, brush in hand as she tried to word her message without reflecting her lingering frustrations, while Taiyang and Weiss prepared dinner side-by-side, and Ghira regaled the lot of them with stories from Menagerie and his own versions of the Valen legends he'd learned when younger. Then, Taiyang would challenge her after dinner to the strange game of red and yellow pieces, their matches sometimes lasting late into the night and requiring them to wait until the following day to continue.

However, things had to change eventually, and the Faunus determined her fully recovered and left to bear the blonde's letter the previous day. One would think her wife would feel more at peace now that everything returned to normal, yet, Yang seemed more eager now than ever, rising with the winter sun and gently prodding her to leave the warmth of their bed.

"So, are you ready to train today?" She looked up, lilac eyes peeking out from under the hood. "I know it's not ideal conditions-"

"That can't be helped." The Atlesian feigned thoughtfulness as the wind picked up again, prompting Yang to turn her gaze skyward and watch the clouds for a moment. While the blonde was distracted, she studied the woman's posture, noticing she seemed far more relaxed now that they were back in the clearing. From what she could gather, it was the first time Yang had returned to the space since their reconciliation.

It still boggled her mind how the woman could be so adamant about being forgiven when she'd done nothing wrong but Weiss accepted that, in the end, it didn't really matter. The warrior bore her no ill will and promised to make amends when the Faunus princess next came to visit, so granting unnecessary forgiveness to put the events behind them seemed a small price to pay. Though, if she was brutally honest with herself, she rather liked how everything turned out; for as horribly as things might've gone, the Atlesian instead found herself looking at her wife in a new light.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way Yang had doted on her while she could hardly control her own body, tucking her in and lending her heat whenever needed, making sure she felt safe and grounded even while lost to the fog of her fever. Or how readily she consented to having her wound tended with just a pointed look or two, as if she felt absolutely no shame in letting the Atlesian treat her with the same care despite being a strong, decorated warrior. Then again, it could very well be the mental picture now stuck in her mind of the fearsome warrior hiding behind her while a harmless garden spider crawled across the floor that continuously struck her as... charming. It reminded her of the blonde's honest blush when confessing the meaning of her joke the night of their wedding ceremony, the open fury on her features while cursing the former King of Atlas for his transgressions against Weiss, the genuine alarm in her voice when she realized she'd fallen dead asleep while snoring loud enough to rattle the panes of the window in their bedroom- a very endearing sort of fallibility she appreciated more and more with every passing day.

It might be all those things, which culminated in the realization that Yang Xiao Long, warrior Queen of Vale, stood as exactly the opposite of what Atlas would consider a proper noble. She accepted her faults- especially the ones that only she thought of as such- she never failed to be open and honest, and it seemed her sense of fairness skewed in the favor of whoever she dealt with rather than herself. The novelty of it all still hadn't worn off. Weiss' father would have a heart attack were any child of his to act in a similar fashion.

Well, a daughter of Atlas she may be, but embracing a few of her new kingdom's customs seemed appropriate, and the one she wanted to exemplify today stemmed from that reassuring touch and warmth she'd felt while being thrown from one extreme to another, the genuine care with which the blonde had treated her when she was at her weakest. She wanted to repay that, and despite how calm Yang looked now, Weiss could still see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers seemed a hair's breadth away from curling into fists. Every time they settled down for bed, she could feel the restless energy running through the blonde's frame.

It would be easier, she eventually decided, to burn off some of that energy before trying to discuss anything. "Where should we start?"

"We start with principles," Yang replied, tapping a finger against her temple. "Your semblance is part of you- your very spirit released and honed like any blade, but a sword's no good if the person holding it doesn't understand how it's meant to be used." The blonde looked around, shaking herself as if to ward off the chill in the air despite her layers. "Let's go through the forms as a warm-up."

She nodded, settling into her stance, dimly aware of Myrtenaster pressing against her hip. Wearing her weapon again after the few days of bed rest felt odd at first, like suddenly becoming aware of a limb that had fallen asleep, turning and flexing the newly rediscovered muscles until everything felt right again. Across from her, with about four feet between them, stood the blonde, mirroring her position. On an unspoken count, they began moving, flowing from one position to another as reflections. By this point, she didn't question which of them moved first- if she followed the warrior's lead or vice versa. The motions felt natural, repetition making them familiar despite the comparatively short amount of time she'd had to study them- methodical, measured, calming- and her breathing slowed to match the rhythm of each transition, finding comfort in the practice.

"Have I ever told you how good your form is?"

"You've called me beautiful before, yes," she replied, lifting the corner of her mouth in a smirk. "Or did you mean something else?"

Yang blinked, surprise shining bright in lilac orbs before she chuckled. "Oh, so someone has jokes, is that it?"

"I've learned more than just exercises and breathing techniques from you." Both of them slid from one pose to the next, shifting from being as fluid as water to solid as stone, then light as the breeze and, in brief flashes, quick as a flame. The forms corresponded with the Maidens- the guiding deities the Valens turned to- and the entire exercise emphasized how they worked together to create the whole. While she didn't personally subscribe to the religious connotations, Weiss could appreciate the story they wove. "Your teaching skills are superb, by the way. Perhaps I've mentioned that?"

"You have, but you forget: I have an excellent student." The blonde twisted her hips in time, so they stood side-by-side, and the two took steps forward in tandem while moving through the later forms.

Their feet brushed across the barren ground, any grass that might've once grown there long ago trampled by Yang's use of the clearing, each step muted in the cold morning air. They twisted and turned, following the poses until the final one, which brought them both back to center, once again standing across from one another, though... it certainly looked like they'd drifted closer, somehow.

Not that she was complaining, of course.

Together, they drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing the tension to flow from their muscles, ready to begin the training in earnest.

"Can you feel your semblance?" Through her scarf, the blonde's breath came out as wisps of white fog, curling in front of her face like smoke. "Where is it?"

"Yes, it's..." Weiss closed her eyes briefly, acutely aware of the familiar chill thrumming through her body, at harmony with the cold of the season while remaining distinct. Ever since falling under the tea's sway, she'd been able to feel the cold within her easily, as if it couldn't quite retreat to wherever it hid before. However, right now she could feel a concentration of the internal energy resting in her chest, and she brought one hand up to hover over the point. "It's everywhere, but strongest here."

"That's great!" Her eyes sparkled like gems, conveying the mile wide smile currently hidden from view. "You've got the two most important parts down, then. First, you have to know what it is. Then, where it is." She lifted her arms, curling her hands into tight fists and allowing them to hover in front of her face. As she shifted to the balls of her feet, the air around her rippled, the cold driven back as steam began to rise off her clothes while lilac morphed into blood red. "It's a part of you, in every bone and muscle and your very skin, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat, and controlling it is second nature, like breathing." The blonde threw a few jabs at the air- quick strikes that Weiss almost couldn't follow with her eyes- as her feet danced beneath her as she battled an imaginary opponent. As she drew near to one edge of the clearing, the warrior reared back, eyes sharpening to throw a punch aimed at a nearby tree that never actually made contact, heat rippling out from the points of her knuckles and somehow turning the withered bark black as the dried wood began to smoke and smolder. The Atlesian nearly stepped back in surprise; of all the times she'd felt the fire burning within her wife's soul, she'd never imagined it could manifest in such a destructive manner. All those reports- stories her father passed off as shaken soldiers allowing their imaginations to run wild- depicting the Queen of Vale as a dragonspawn wreathed in flame seemed much more accurate than before. After a moment, Yang drew back from the tree, taking another deep breath and releasing it slowly. "Your semblance is a weapon that needs only a thought to be drawn; if you know what it is and where it is, you can wield it with just as much ease as you move Myrtenaster." She chuckled, her stance relaxing. "After all, the best defense is a good offense."

Pale brows furrowed. "You mean, the best offense is a good defense."

"Uh... no?" The blonde chuckled nervously, obviously replaying the words in her head to ensure she'd said the right thing. Satisfied she hadn't misspoken, she coughed into her hand. "Is... that what you were taught?"

"Of course," she replied, absolutely certain of her answer. "For centuries, Atlas has faced threats from within and without our borders- the other, former nations of Mantle, the ferocious beasts that roam the remote regions, raiders and bandits- and we have maintained a strong standing army to defend ourselves against them. It's how my father unified Mantle when the civil war erupted."

A small pause followed her words where the other woman fidgeted, looking almost nervous and also a little confused. "Well, that... explains a lot." Brows creasing in concern, the Atlesian took a step forward, silently bidding her wife continue. "During the later parts of the invasion, Atlas' soldiers would land on Vale's shores and try to build fortifications, or turn our existing structures into ones." She spread her hands. "But this is our home and each one of us is capable of fighting. We outmaneuvered them, rendered their defenses useless, and struck when they were exhausted from the effort of trying to turn our own land into unfamiliar territory. We had no strong defense to speak of ourselves- no walls to hide behind- but every time Atlas soldiers mounted an attack, we met them with greater force and broke their ranks, turned their neat lines into chaos, and they couldn't recover." Lilac met blue briefly before being redirected towards the ground. "With an emphasis on defense, Atlas stands strong against invasions, like an aegis. But aggressive action requires the force and decisiveness of a blade's edge. The blunt strength of a shield can only do so much damage; it takes wielding it just right to get the same effect."

"I suppose you have a point. The other nations of Mantle had comparatively smaller forces than Atlas. We overwhelmed them; had the armies been evenly matched... I'm not sure we would've triumphed." She conceded, shoulders falling slightly at the reminder of her father's foolishness. "We truly stood no chance at successfully invading Vale, did we?" Immediately, she shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. "It doesn't matter. My former countrymen couldn't manifest their semblance the way Valens can, so I suppose it's a moot point."

"Well, there's still a lesson to be learned from that way of thinking. It all comes down to discipline, really." Yang stepped towards her, lightly laying her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "When I say 'the best defense is a good offense', I mean that drawing out your semblance is, in itself, an aggressive action. It's pulling a weapon that formerly hadn't been brought to bear out into the open, like unsheathing a blade. You might only use it to block or parry, but that's still your sword doing the work. Does that make sense?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground between them. "I... think."

"That's okay; it'll become clearer with time. It's just a mentality you're not used to," the blonde said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But, I think there's something inside of you that understands it on a deeper level. I caught a few glances your way while you dueled Blake; she couldn't break your defense and, when your semblance manifested, it acted as a shield, blocking Adam's attack. Now that I know how heavily your people emphasized defense, that makes sense- it's how you're naturally inclined to manifest your energy."

As much as it pained her to admit such, she couldn't quite take pride in that assessment. "She got very close a few times."

"Maybe, but 'very close' is as good as 'not', in that case. I can't tell you how many times I've almost had an ax or a sword slice into my throat, or an arrow embedded in my back." She held up a hand, keeping her thumb and forefinger just slightly apart. "Sometimes, only that much separates you from death- it's the difference between a missed attack and a killing blow."

She raised a brow at the word choice. It seemed strange to her, how easily Yang spoke of the dance with death. It reminded her of the difference between their homelands, how Atlesians looked at war as a grim but ultimately necessary tool to expand their nation's borders and defend against the 'barbaric' peoples of the world. Valens, meanwhile, thought of it as an integral part of life, another form of the eternal struggle between opposing forces. Day and night, light and dark, hot and cold- Taiyang had gone on at length about them while teaching her the encircling game but never in a negative light, as if such a thing shouldn't exist. It simply did. "I suppose it comes down to strength, then?"

"Or speed. Or skill. Or cunning." The blonde moved, holding both arms out wide before curling her hands into fists and bringing them up. The effect was lessened by the layers of clothing she wore but Weiss could still make out the bulges of hard won muscles straining against the fabric, drawing tight across her arms and chest, almost as if she might rip the very seams. "Strength is my approach of choice, obviously, but it doesn't have to be yours." She heard the smile in her wife's voice and continued staring long after both arms dropped. "You'll figure out how to wield the weapon once you have a firm grip on it, when you can feel its heft and balance for yourself. What matters is that you're decisive when wielding it and, unlike any other weapon, your semblance will never leave your hand; you can only be disarmed if you allow your spirit to be broken."

She met the warrior's gaze, brows pinching together, feeling as if Yang was talking in circles. "Then how do I draw it? How do I control it?"

"Easy." The warrior shifted her stance, moving her right foot back and raising both fists. "You need to tag me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tag me." She shrugged, a little lost as to how to explain. "You know. A punch, a slap- just get a hand on me somehow." Then she pulled down her scarf enough to flash a little grin. "And if you actually manage to knock me to the ground, I'll give you a kiss." Almost too quick to catch, something flashed across Yang's expression, eyes widening and her lips quivering before they pulled a little wider. A month or more ago, she might've been fooled, but Weiss could tell when her wife was faking cheer to keep others from being concerned by this point. She'd seen it enough during the journey back to Patch. "Or maybe breakfast in bed, or I can cook dinner one night? I'm a pretty good chef."

Ah, so that was it. Narrowing her eyes, Weiss settled into a stance of her own- a fencer's pose, the same discipline Yatsuhashi had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago- with her left arm outstretched towards her opponent and her right curled into a fist at the small of her back. How he came by the knowledge escaped her but he taught her well and she wouldn't disappoint. After all, how different could a game of this 'tag' be from a duel? "I accept your challenge."

Lilac eyes brightened, her guard lowering ever so slightly to beckon her forward with both hands. "Alright. You have until lunch. Now, let's see what you got."

She didn't move, biding her time and analyzing the situation. Yatsuhashi had warned against such goads when first instructing her during the journey to Patch; he emphasized striking only when she felt ready, never allowing another to dictate her motions or else forfeit the battle before it began.

"From great wars to solitary duels- in the end, all conflict is decided by who retains control," he'd said, holding his large greatsword perfectly level with one hand. It stood as tall as he did, weighed more than she could carry, and gleaned under the fading sun like the strange, staggered pauldron that covered his off arm and functioned as a shield. "If you sacrifice control of self, you will never gain control of the conflict."

While this may not be as serious a battle, the test laid before her required her utmost attention, studying the way the blonde awaited her opening maneuver. Weight on the balls of her feet, hands up, her center of balance high and evenly dispersed. Bringing her down wouldn't be easy... but it was possible.

As the wind picked up, she rushed forward, darting her hand low to get beneath the woman's guard. She missed, the blonde skipping back a step and rolling to her right to dodge the obvious follow up swipe, and so they began their dance around the clearing. Weiss pressed forward relentlessly, trying to back the warrior into a tree, but just when she thought all avenues of escape were cut off, Yang would surprise her- jumping clear over her head accompanied by a blast of heat, sliding beneath her outstretched arm, stopping her momentum too quick for the smaller woman to do the same, steam streaming behind her in wisps. Always maintaining her balance, the upper hand, and always with that little grin in place- she was having fun as the Atlesian's frustration mounted. As the smaller of the two, one would think she could move quicker, change direction easier, but she found herself thwarted with every attempt. If she darted to the left, so would Yang, somehow anticipating her actions the moment she decided on them, remaining just out of arm's reach. Simply thrusting her arms forward never worked- the blonde would dodge to one side or another and skip a few steps away- and swinging horizontally or vertically produced similar results.

Defending was always the easier of the two sides to pick, in her opinion. Assess your weaknesses, decide if they should be strengthened or intentionally weakened to draw in the enemy, and keep your greatest strength a closely guarded secret. When attacking, one had to be ruthlessly efficient, because the opponent would capitalize on every mistake, every extra bit of expended energy gone to waste, and Weiss could feel the sweat dripping from her brow as they continued variations of the same dance all over the clearing, with her wife sometimes ducking behind trees to create distance. Her breath started to burn her lungs, begging her to stop, but she pressed forward, pushing aside everything; she would not be so easily defeated.

Through it all, Yang was careful, never using her forearms to block or redirect the Atlesian's momentum. The metal of her cestus gleamed in the weak light of the sun peaking through heavy clouds, the barbs designed to catch blades and shred skin never coming even close to Weiss. If anything, the blonde seemed to keep her arms up out of habit, muscle memory burned too deep to be set aside despite the obvious effort made to merely duck and dodge rather than counterattack. Theoretically, it should've made the warrior's movements more predictable, easier to gauge, limiting her in reactions and freeing her opponent to go all out in pursuit of her goals.

Reality, however, proved her wrong at nearly every turn.

The longer the exercise went on, the heavier she breathed, not used to nearly so much movement and just a week past being on bed rest. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, each breath scorching as she sucked it in, trying desperately to catch just the fabric of her wife's vest if nothing else, but even that eluded her. For her part, Yang seemed a bit amused, her smile never dimming and her breathing not nearly as labored despite the sheen of sweat collecting on her face, bangs becoming plastered to her forehead.

Finally, her frustration mounted, and she realized the only way she would possibly win this little game would be to force the blonde to react to a move she didn't plan to make. She would have to change her momentum before her wife could register it; she had to rely on not just speed but her ability to misdirect. With her plan firmly set in mind, Weiss lunged to her right, and the other woman, of course, broke the other way. Then she did it again, and again, until they were circling the clearing in an odd shape, straight jagged lines cut every time the Atlesian struck towards the right and her quarry skipped away. In those lilac eyes, she could see that Yang knew what she planned- had to, she'd done nothing to hide it- and seemed ready to break to the right the moment she gave an indication that she would switch her pattern.

She lifted her left hand, clearly expressing her intent, and her wife read it immediately, shifting her weight to break back towards the Atlesian's right, but waiting for her to commit first. Which she did, beginning her lunge to the left, prompting Yang to move the other way. However, that first change in direction brought with it a slightly shorter back step, something she'd noticed throughout the exhausting exercise. In that moment, her resolve solidified, the cold energy within her pushing out and invigorating every muscle, and Weiss capitalized on it, jumping back to her right and throwing herself forward.

Lilac eyes widened in surprise as the woman's arms immediately went behind her, preparing to break their fall, because while she'd finally figured out how to beat the warrior at her game, she didn't quite take the most graceful option. Her shoulder slammed into the blonde's chest, both of them going to the ground as neither could keep their balance, landing with her wife flat on her back and Weiss somewhat curled up on top of her.

The warrior groaned, raising a hand to her head where she'd hit the ground hard, prompting the smaller woman to push herself up using her arms. "Yang? Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She chuckled, smiling up at the Atlesian. "I knew you could do it."

Puffing out a breath, Weiss shook her head, sitting up and just barely registering that she now effectively straddled the woman beneath her before she spoke. "As amusing as it may be to you, I'm not sure what it accomplished." She crossed her arms over her chest, surprised to find that she wasn't gasping for air, a stark contrast to hardly a minute ago. She felt a little tired, perhaps, but her muscles weren't complaining and her breath came even and steady. Strange. "But I expect to receive my reward regardless." A pause followed as she weighed her words, looking down into her wife's lilac eyes before speaking. "You promised me a kiss."

They hadn't spoken about it. Noble Atlesian wedding ceremonies carried few traditions outside of the giving of gifts, the exchanging of rings, and the eventual bedding; frankly, more concern was given to the seating of guests and displaying the proper heraldry than the ceremony itself. Vale, in contrast, had many nuances to their unions- the burning of incense, the chanting of the soothsayer, the exchanging of weapons, and on the list went- but physical affection... well, in the kingdom across the sea, the bedding itself served as all that would be required on that front, aside from the necessary task of providing heirs. In Vale, she couldn't tell. The villagers of Patch seemed affectionate, often exchanging kisses in greeting or farewell, giving hugs freely to family members and friends, and sometimes the children would even run through the streets and latch onto whatever adult didn't have their hands full.

But Yang didn't push one way or another. She initiated some contact, yes- brief embraces to comfort, chaste kisses to the top of her head to reassure, a lingering touch on her arm for guidance- but never asked for anything to be reciprocated, and Weiss certainly hadn't taken the lead.

Except when they were sleeping. The night of their bedding, she'd allowed her wife to hold her, telling herself that it was only for the practicality of the position- to keep the dreaded snoring at bay- but the night her wife returned to the bedroom with her eye nearly cut to the bone and swollen shut proved otherwise. While the blonde slept, she'd gathered her courage and laid down beside her, curling around the solid warmth and pressing a soft kiss to Yang's forehead, even as she began to snore. She'd already spent enough time acutely aware of how empty the bed felt without her wife and hoped the woman wouldn't begrudge her the comfort. Which she didn't, initiating their usual contact upon waking, and the sleepy apology that followed never failed to pull a small smile from her whenever she thought of it.

So, this would be new- a new challenge to overcome, a new boundary to test. With luck, perhaps it would chase away those lingering agitations that plagued the woman. Even if it didn't... she felt like it was a step they'd take eventually. Might as well test the waters now, to better prepare herself later.

Surprise showed plain in the blonde's face, which was almost immediately overtaken by a broad grin. "Yeah, I did. But first..." One brow raised. "How did you change direction without touching the ground?" Thrown off by the question, the Atlesian looked towards the spot, expecting to see some mark from where she'd pushed off- because she did touch the ground, had to, in order to push off with enough force to cut Yang off and then spring forward- but instead found the fading remnants of her family sigil, the white snowflake slowly breaking apart and disappearing into nothingness. She stared, mouth popping open as her jaw went slack, confused as to how she'd managed to conjure such a thing without thinking. "Using your semblance is second nature, like breathing." As Weiss continued staring, the woman beneath her shifted, pushing herself up into a sitting position without forcing the Atlesian from her lap. "But you breathe subconsciously long before you're able to control it."

She remembered how the cold spread through her in an instant, her own soul surging in response to her plan, ensuring that the moment she needed to move, she could. Decisive, the blonde had called it, an aggressive action- now she understood that Yang hadn't meant that she should focus on attacking someone to draw it out. The energy within her could be both sword and shield, and even more- it could take whatever form she needed. Right then, she needed something solid to push off of, and her chi immediately provided that, just like it blocked the bull horned Faunus what seemed like a short lifetime ago. It functioned as an extension of her will just like Myrtenaster served as her arm.

"I... I did that." She spoke out of awe more than disbelief, yet the edges of her voice lilted just slightly, almost indicating a question.

"Of course you did." Then the blonde moved, leaning forward and pressing her lips to one pale cheek while Weiss' gaze remained focused on the slowly dissipating snowflake, which winked out of existence the moment she realized what was happening. She stiffened at first, surprised, but realized that she should've expected such- Yang would take whatever option demanded the least from the other woman- and relaxed, waiting for the blonde to draw away before turning her head. At first, lilac eyes stayed hidden beneath her sweat slicked bangs, her head tilted down. "I knew you could."

"Thank you," she replied, gently slipping a hand beneath her wife's chin and coaxing her gaze up. When their eyes met, she could see the faint blush in the warrior's cheeks and it curled her own lips into a soft smile. For a moment, she thought about leaning forward and initiating a kiss herself- it would only take a few inches- but something held her back. A chiding tutor's voice echoing in the back of her mind, chastising her for giving those peasant fancies a passing thought, saying such public displays were uncouth, unseemly, and barbaric.

Something must've shown- or perhaps nothing did, but the warrior Queen was always extremely perceptive- because Yang raised a hand, cupping the cheek she'd just kissed and allowing her thumb to slide towards pale lips. "Next time?"

Lilac met blue, the remainder of the words left unspoken but understood regardless. "Next time."

"Okay." Through the brightening of her blush, the blonde's smile stretched wide. "How about we take a break?" Weiss nodded, carefully extracting herself and offering a hand to help the other woman up, leaning back to act as a counterbalance to the warrior's superior weight. Upon standing, Yang took a step back and curled her right hand into a loose fist, laying her left over it and bowing her head, motions which the Atlesian quickly copied, having temporarily forgotten how the Valens ended their friendly sparring matches since her last bout with Yatsuhashi. When they straightened up, the blonde stepped forward and carefully put a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding them towards a small bundle she'd brought with them. "I, uh, packed us a lunch."

"When?" Not that Weiss wasn't grateful, seeing as she'd suddenly become aware that all that exertion had worked up her appetite. She'd chased her wife around the clearing for hours, the sun now high overhead despite being obscured by the clouds. "We left so quickly this morning..."

"Last night, while you were bathing." Yang cleared her throat, almost seeming like she had more to say but instead turning her attention to the package, revealing two bowls with rice and two more filled with steamed dumplings, plus two little bottles.

"You brought wine to training?"

"I brought it for celebration." The blonde smiled wide, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her wife invited the Atlesian to join her, which she did, tucking her legs beneath her and accepting one set of bowls and a bottle of the sweet rice wine. Although she couldn't drink it with the same enthusiasm the warrior did, she'd grown a bit fonder of it over the past few months. "I had a feeling you'd be able to get the hang of it before we stopped for our first break." She chuckled. "You're too stubborn to have quit before then."

Weiss brushed some dirt from her knee before opening the bowl with the dumplings, picking one out with her chopsticks and holding it a moment to raise a brow at her wife. "I might've passed out."

"Then it would be a pick-me-up when you regained consciousness!" Yang teasingly clicked her sticks together before starting on her bowl of rice.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ever the optimist."

They ate in silence a while, the heat from their activities protecting them from their cooling sweat. With just the clinking of wood against ceramic and the wind blowing through the dead trees, she had plenty of time to consider her next actions carefully. Now seemed to be as good a time as any to address her concerns, both of them in high spirits after making such progress, but... was it wrong for her to want to hold onto that feeling a little longer? Surely she could put things off another day or two without any detriment. She didn't want to come off as intrusive- her wife continued to be patient and respectful of her every wish, and it would only be fair for her to be the same- yet she'd also promised to be more forthcoming on the things that plagued her mind, and this certainly had over the past few days. Curiosity mixed with a bitter sort of understanding- she didn't expect to be surprised by the answers she sought yet still felt inclined to ask.

Shouldn't she just leave the matter alone?

"Is something on your mind?" She looked up, now aware that her contemplative silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I... have a question, actually." Yang tilted her head, enough of an indication for her to continue. "Who is Summer?"

She didn't expect a particular reaction, aside from either remorse or anger, but braced herself anyway.

What she got... troubled her.

#Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU #Queens of Vale fanfic #Freezerburn #TRR writes

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