Chapter Text
It wasn't the first time that Robyn had seen her.
The Schnee family was nothing short of royalty — not only from the people of Mantle's standing, no — even among Atlas' upper class the Schnees were regarded as the cream of the crop; nobility amongst aristocracy. It was, therefore, no surprise that they made the tabloids whenever there was anything to report, and that in consequence the whole of Remnant knew their faces. It was also no surprise that when the eldest daughter chose to pursue a military career and subsequently renounced her heirdom, the buzz lasted for weeks. Even years later, the media loved to remind people every time she appeared at military affairs or civil ceremonies. Though Robyn had come to expect seeing her picture whenever there was coverage of these types of events, she still had never gotten used to seeing that porcelain doll in the shadow of the iron general.
So yes, it wasn't the first time Robyn had seen her, but this preliminary electoral soirée was the first time that Robyn saw her in the flesh.
Of course she had known Winter was attractive, anyone with eyes could've seen as much —even from the fuzzy greyscale images plastered on Mantle's newspapers— but… seeing her in person was entirely different. It was absurd how cameras didn't do the woman justice, not in the least. She reminded Robyn of a marble statue; stunningly gorgeous, like she'd been intentionally sculpted to be the pinnacle of majesty: immaculately white, and absolutely still in her military stance. None of the other security personnel staffing the event were remotely as solemn as she.
As the evening progressed, Robyn's attention was periodically drawn to her. Maybe it was because more than once or twice, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she might've caught pale blue orbs stealing glances her way. Robyn was never quite able to catch her in the act; never able to meet her gaze, but it undoubtedly felt like she was being observed. It was probably nothing more than the fact that Robyn was the only representative from Mantle, and though she'd had impressive success in charming some of the figureheads she'd targeted in an effort to make allies, she nevertheless stuck out like a sore thumb. The rugged blonde kept telling herself that was all there was, if Winter Schnee was indeed paying her extra attention —which she wasn't even sure of to begin with. Robyn kept trying to shrug it off, but somewhere down in her gut, she felt a gaze on her. And so, in turn, she was drawn to constantly look Winter's way, drawn to constantly study her.
In doing so, Robyn was struck by Winter's iciness as guests attempted to engage with her. Whether it was attempts to strike up conversation or simple acknowledgements of her presence, it was always a matter of seconds for them to turn the other way. Winter had poise and unwavering focus, and Robyn might have thought that this stoicism of hers was motivated by a directive to avoid mingling, but… it didn't take long for her to notice that the rest of the military personnel present did lightly engage with guests. Not excessively, of course, but they all seemed downright welcoming compared to that ivory figure. Robyn could only conclude that, curiously, the suitably-named Winter Schnee chose to frigidly ward off anyone addressing her.
Or rather, not anyone, Robyn noticed.
Winter wasn't so stone-faced when the Atlas-appointed 'Protector of Mantle', that weapon dressed in a skirt, would check in with her. And from there, it didn't take long for the most unexpected detail to jump out at Robyn.
In a similar, very subtle way, Winter's expression would change when she was addressed by the service people. Her borderline hostile, icy features would soften as she politely nodded at them, silently declining food or drinks.
As Robyn watched this unfold, it was hard not to connect the dots. It appeared that Winter actively applied herself to chasing away the wealthy, almost as if this Schnee disdained their social status and opulence. And if that was an accurate assessment, then it was really no wonder that she'd abandoned her heirdom for the regimented life of the army.
With this realization, suddenly, Robyn couldn't possibly have been more interested in anyone.
Curiosity itched at her, and there was no ignoring that itch — there never was. Maybe it was for this insuppressible urge to uncover the truth that she had developed her semblance, or maybe having developed this compulsion was an unfortunate consequence of having been blessed with that very semblance… but when there was something Robyn was curious about, she just couldn't leave things alone. So, before she knew it, she found herself heading Winter's way.
Having been unable to make eye contact the entire evening, Robyn hadn't realized how acute Winter's gaze was until it was spearing through her. However, it wasn't its sharpness that threw her off, no. What really threw her off was that the moment those crystal clear blue orbs met her own… Robyn's gaydar — horns, bells, sirens, and all — blared red alert. In the same instant, Winter Schnee's unforgivingly severe gaze vacillated, leaving her unsettled for not even half a second. Had she realized she'd been clocked? Or was it clocking Robyn in return that destabilized her?
As if Winter wanted to shake off what had permeated the air for a second, she promptly returned her attention to the crowd. As if she wanted to pretend Robyn wasn't directly headed to her, she stubbornly refrained from looking her way again.
The tall blonde moved to stand next to her newly appointed target. It was a bit of a surprise that the top of the white head of hair barely reached her eye level; from the pictures, Robyn had expected her to be much taller. Winter was in heels too.
For a moment, Robyn stood at her side, watching the crowd as she was, waiting to see if Winter would acknowledge her at all. It rapidly became clear that she wouldn't, so it was up to Robyn to make her do so.
"You seem uncomfortable," Robyn commented to break the ice.
Her icy disposition remained; "I'm not here to be comfortable," was the rigid answer she received.
"Evidently not," she noted, assessing Winter's military stance. Robyn had a nagging feeling that professionalism wasn't the only reason for her stiffness. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it seemed to her like the other woman had an anxious edge. It seemed to her that… Winter might be more relaxed when looking down the barrel of a dust-loaded weapon than she was in the midst of Atlas' bourgeoisie. "What I meant was that you look… actually ill at ease. Way beyond just being on duty," Robyn tried to explain.
No answer this time.
Robyn nevertheless elected to wait for one, observing her. Staring openly didn't seem to impel Winter to indulge her any further but the tan blonde cocked her head, far from discouraged. "I would've thought receptions like these would be your element. Given your upbringing and all."
That comment had clearly hit a nerve; Winter's jaw visibly tensed. "It was never my thing," she groused between clenched teeth.
"...I see," Robyn mouthed awkwardly. "It's not my thing either," she offered.
"Never would've guessed," Winter dryly rejoined.
Robyn raised her eyebrows. "Are you trying to tell me that I don't fit in?"
"To say it nicely."
"Hmm." Given the interactions Robyn had observed with blue collars staffing the event, she hadn't expected Winter to be so cold, not to her anyways. Robyn might've been a guest, but she wasn't part of the upper-class. "Are you always this… delightful?"
"Yes."
"Must be fun for your friends," the blonde commented.
"I don't have any," she flatly answered.
Robyn couldn't tell if she was just saying that, or if it was true. "Most people have at least one or two friends."
"I guess I'm not most people."
She couldn't help but laugh. "That's an understatement."
Winter shot her a wary glance, and again, something almost tangible passed between them when their eyes met. It was an enticing heat suddenly enveloping Robyn, drawing her in, constricting her chest, and… it looked like she wasn't the only one troubled by the heavy pull this chemistry exerted. Once more, Winter couldn't sustain her gaze, and she returned her cool blue eyes to the crowd. Robyn didn't know what possessed her to say what came next; "Maybe we could be friends someday?"
Scoff. "No."
Without knowing what she'd expected, Robyn was nonetheless a little stung. "You didn't even think about it," she lamented.
"I don't need to."
"Why not?"
Winter frowned, still looking out in the distance. "You know why."
Of course she knew why. On one hand, it wouldn't look good for the General's most trusted agent to mingle with a political opponent, and on the other, it wouldn't look good to the people of Mantle for their champion to buddy up with a Schnee.
"What if I don't?" Robyn nevertheless proposed.
"Please," Winter groused, "you're not a fool."
"What if I am a fool?"
"Then my dismissal is all the more justified."
"…Harsh."
"Truthful."
Robyn leaned into the wall, her untouched drink forgotten in her hand. The music filling the room fit the haughtiness of the event. She realized she had lost all desire to mingle, all desire to charm the people she should be attempting to win as allies. Instead, she found herself again looking over at the fixture of a woman she had set her mind to ascertain.
"Do you stand rooted in place like that at every event the General requires you to monitor?"
"Yes."
"Isn't that intimidating for the guests?"
"Not my problem."
Her unwillingness to converse was downright impressive. "Isn't it sorta? I'm sure part of the reason he has you attend is because it's expected for you to be accustomed to receptions like these, and know how to navigate them."
Winter exhaled inaudibly. Her eyes followed a figure somewhere far off at the other end of the room. "He has me attend for security. Nothing more."
"He could pick anyone else for security, doesn't have to be you," Robyn argued.
"All Specialists available are mandated to attend those high-profile events," she curtly explained.
"Specialist?" Robyn repeated in surprise. "Like, Special Ops?"
It had been obvious enough to everyone that this Schnee was a high-ranking official, but unlike Clover Ebi and his team, unlike the 'Protector of Mantle,' Winter's title and her purpose at the General's side remained somewhat nebulous to the broad populace. This in turn gave everyday folks the widespread impression that this woman's mysterious functions might've been bestowed on her for the prestige of her lineage. That popular perception had never sat well with Robyn; given that family's famous hereditary semblance, it was just self-evident to her that Winter was in all likelihood a phenomenal warrior, that she had deserved her position, but… "I had no idea you were that good."
It was almost imperceptible, but it seemed to Robyn that Winter puffed her chest slightly in pride.
"I'd love to spar with you sometime," she continued, encouraged by that positive shift in the other woman's demeanor. Robyn was capable enough as a fighter, but it wasn't her primary vocation and she certainly hadn't had her skills honed by facing peril as often as a military operative. She had no real hopes of facing her on equal footing, but Robyn had never been one to let the odds discourage her.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Are you a fool?"
"I don't know, you're starting to make me think I might be," Robyn grinned.
Winter pursed her lips in discontentment. She continued to obstinately look out into the distance.
In the ensuing silence, a waiter passed by, presenting them some fancy hors-d'oeuvres. While Robyn had been determined to stay sober and in full possession of her wits, she had no qualms about trying the food, and she picked one, thanking him.
Winter's hands remained firmly clasped behind her back and she declined what was offered to her with an almost imperceptible nod of her head. Again, her expression had softened. It was impossibly subtle, but Robyn nevertheless noticed, and she really enjoyed seeing how courteous Winter was with the staff.
"Are you not allowed to eat?" Robyn piped up, her motivation to worm her way into the other woman's mind reinvigorated.
"I'm on duty."
"Doesn't seem to stop the rest of the military personnel," she pointed out. "Every single one of them."
"Penny's not eating."
Robyn snorted. "Did you just compare yourself to a machine?"
"Don't call her that," Winter sharply said.
"What? A machine?" She repeated. "Isn't that exactly what she is?"
"Her body may be artificial, but her aura isn't," Winter explained, the tone of her voice yielding from its glacial, disengaged annoyance to something fiercer, almost emotional. "Penny has a heart and a soul, and that makes her as much of a person as anyone else in this room."
Robyn was left a little stumped. Not only was that the most Winter had spoken at once, it also sounded like they were her genuine words and not a rehearsed answer she'd been instructed to recite. It seemed that the ice queen wholeheartedly believed the Protector of Mantle to be a person… whom she evidently cared about. Which, all in all, explained Winter's gentle behavior when interacting with her. And though Robyn wasn't quite sure what to think of this new piece of Atlas ingenuity, she decided that, for the purpose of this conversation, she'd at least indulge the white warrior. "Okay. But unlike any other person in this room, she doesn't need food, does she?"
"She doesn't." Winter concurred.
"But you do," Robyn then followed up. "Or is your body also artificial?"
"I'm flesh and blood."
Robyn gasped in fake surprise.
Winter tsked disapprovingly and again silence fell. After a minute, she glanced at Robyn from the corner of her eye, an annoyed expression on her face. She looked away just as quickly. "...Why are you still here?" She asked, clearly exasperated. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
The small victory of having pushed her past her apathetic and unfeeling front made it hard for Robyn to suppress the grin that threatened to grace her lips. "Do I bother you?" She nonchalantly asked.
Winter was starting to look upset. "I don't understand what you're gaining with this."
The smile broke upon her face, Robyn no longer able to hold it back. "I don't know, I came over to you because I thought you wanted to chat."
Her expression progressed to something like disbelief bordering on revulsion. "Doubtlessly, you've gathered by now that I don't."
"Oh yeah," she admitted. "You've been plenty disagreeable, plenty enough for me to catch the drift."
"Yes! And yet, you're still here!" She denoted in irritation.
Robyn hadn't expected her to acknowledge being deliberately unpleasant. "I'm still here," she concurred. "I don't know, I keep thinking you might've wanted something. You've been staring at me all evening."
"You've successfully put yourself on the map by stirring the masses, of course I'm keeping an eye on you," Winter explained, becoming more and more exasperated.
"Aaah," the tall blonde leaned closer. "Is that what it was?"
"What else would it have been?"
"My dashing charm," Robyn amusedly answered.
At this, Winter turned her head the other way, such that Robyn couldn't see her profile or her expression anymore. "…No," she murmured somewhat disdainfully.
Attempting to see what Winter had felt the need to hide, Robyn leaned over a little further. "Are we sure about that?"
Winter seemed to realize what she was doing and at once turned to meet her with a harsh glare. "Very sure," she snapped.
To Robyn, it spoke volumes how defensive the other woman had gotten over that playful suggestion, and she couldn't help the ever-widening smirk that stretched her lips. "Would you hold my hand and re-answer that?" She asked, extending her arm.
Winter turned her way completely, facing her for the first time through this conversation. To Robyn's surprise, she extended her hand in return, but didn't take hold of the other woman's. "I will if you want to be seen in public testing one of the General's most trusted operatives," she challenged.
Though she'd only been half-teasing her when she suggested using her semblance, how terrible of an idea it would be, only hit Robyn when she was presented with the opportunity to actually do it. Yes, the question posed was completely innocuous to the affairs of the state... but no one around them could know that. What everyone would see would be Robyn extracting the truth out of a high-ranking official... and that wouldn't be a good look.
A shame. She really would have wanted to know if it was indeed true that the only reason Winter had been watching her was for her political notoriety. Robyn dropped her hand at her side.
In turn, Winter clasped her hands behind her back once more. Eyes steadily riveted to the taller woman's, she remained stone-faced even though she'd managed to get Robyn to back down. Winter didn't seem even a tiny bit self-satisfied.
As someone who undoubtedly would have smugly rubbed it in, the blonde couldn't help but wonder if it was that gloating wasn't part of Winter's personality, or if she didn't derive any gratification from winning a word match. It might've been that this ivory statue would have gloated over gaining the upper hand in a swordfight.
"Miss Hill," a deep voice interjected. "I see you've met my best, Special Operative Schnee."
Robyn turned her attention to the man who'd joined them. "That I did," she answered, her smile returning. "She's great company."
Winter rolled her eyes.
The General laughed, and Robyn could only deduce he knew how his right hand behaved towards guests at events like these.
It was midday; the Happy Huntresses had gathered for Robyn's report of the previous evening. Following Robyn's impressions of and interactions with important political players who'd attended the event, they readjusted their campaign plan and strategy. Robyn had only recently risen to enough prominence to be considered a serious candidate for the council's open seat, and though she believed in her odds more and more every day, it was still all new to her and her team, and there was quite a lot of course correction to do.
As if the campaign wasn't already enough of a handful, reports of confiscated dust shipments being rerouted to the middle of nowhere started surfacing. The first hearsay of this sounded like nothing but fiction, but as other sources reported similar sightings, it became quite obvious it wasn't something to turn a blind eye to. Robyn knew that vigilante work might not make her very popular with the bourgeoisie she was trying to mingle with, but she would be damned if she let dubious operations compromise the safety of Mantle. She decided to split her team for now, delegating Fiona and Joanna to the initial task of determining where the dust shipments originated from and on what schedule they departed, while she and May would keep up their work on the campaign. Convenient, since Robyn had been itching to poke and prod her remaining teammate about a ghost from her past.
Once alone with her, Robyn turned to her friend. "May?"
Her blue-haired teammate didn't raise her head from her scroll, still in the midst of reordering her notes from the meeting. "Yeah?"
"You… went to Atlas Academy around the same time as Winter Schnee, didn't you?"
"She was in my grade," May confirmed. "What about her?"
Robyn strolled closer to where the other woman was sitting, circling her. "She was at the party last night," she opened with her best air of nonchalance. "Any impressions of her you wanna share?"
May still wasn't stirred to glance up at her team leader. "What did ya wanna know?"
Still trying to be as casual as possible, Robyn leaned to half-sit on the table. She crossed her arms and gave a shrug. "Dunno… How was she as a student?"
"Not much to say," her friend answered dismissively. "Probably what you'd expect. She was always top of the class, always awfully serious. Didn't have friends."
"No friends?" Robyn repeated, a little startled. Winter had indeed very plainly told her as much, but… she had pegged it as an exaggeration. "What about her team?"
"Well, she had one, if that's what you're asking," May answered, only stating the obvious; all academies worked with the four-person-team system after all. "But as far as anyone could tell, they were sort of estranged from her."
"So she was a loner." How utterly unsurprising. "You think she figured she was too good to mingle?"
The Happy Huntress paused and raised her head in thought, letting her gaze wander on the ceiling. After taking a moment to reminisce, visibly dredging up and examining old memories, May at last made eye contact with Robyn. "No, I don't think that's what it was. It wasn't like Winter looked down on other people, it was more like…" she trailed off, thinking it through. "Maybe more like, she had no energy left to socialize? Because she was always absorbed in studying and training. Like, excessively wrapped up in it."
Robyn gave a thoughtful hum, finally slumping down in a chair. May's account very much fit the impression Robyn had gotten from observing Winter that evening.
Now that she'd been pried from her notes, the gears started to turn in her head, and May scrutinized her team leader skeptically. "Why are you suddenly interested in her?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Robyn put on her best guileless air. "I told you, I saw her at the party."
It didn't fool her. "You see dozens of new people every time there's any sort of event," May argued.
"Yeah, but you know her, not all these other people, so I'm asking you about her, that's all," Robyn argued in a last ditch attempt to dismiss suspicions.
But May left her scroll on the table and turned towards her, completely abandoning what she'd been doing in favor of investing herself completely in the conversation. "I don't know her. I've been to school with her. It's not the same," she pointed out. "While some of these 'other people' are my cousins and uncles, who I do know and who you're not asking about."
Robyn held eye contact with her teammate for a few seconds, vaguely vexed with her astuteness. Finally, she groaned, giving up her feigned nonchalance. "Fine," she surrendered. "Seeing her got me curious about her, okay? Winter really didn't come off the same way her father does. You know what I mean?"
May squinted one eye dubiously. "Yeah, okay. She doesn't. So what?"
"Well, I don't know, maybe that's worth looking into?"
"Like what? What for? Making her sympathetic to our cause?" May speculated, evidently completely lost as to what her team leader actually meant to propose. "...Are you thinking that making friends with her might eventually have her give up some info about what Ironwood's up to?"
Robyn shrugged, opting to let her believe that any interest was indeed purely strategic. "...I don't know. Maybe. I mean, you'd know better if she might, you've been around her for four years. You have a better idea of who she is."
At last, May lost her suspicious edge. She laid back in her chair. "Like I said, I wasn't friends with her. No one was friends with her," she reiterated. "A lot of them tried in the first year... you know how people tend to flock to the Schnee name and fawn over it, trying to cozy up with them. But Winter wouldn't have it." May smirked at the memories this evoked. "It was sorta fun to watch," she commented, a hint of laughter in her voice, and then shook her head. "But yeah, by the end of the first year, everyone had gotten the message, and it looked like being alone suited her. Like I said, she was just completely wrapped up in performing academically and kept her head down." She cocked her head, as if she had suddenly remembered something else. "Rumour went that she was personally recruited by Ironwood before the end of our second year, and sure enough, as soon as she graduated, she went on to be whatever he's got her doing."
"Specialist," Robyn said. "All the Special Ops were there. There were other soldiers posted outside, but only Specialists and their robot puppet were inside the Hall."
"Maybe she's got another title, like the 'Protector of Mantle'," May suggested.
"Nah, I got it confirmed, she is a Specialist," Robyn said, deciding to omit who she got it confirmed from. She cleared her throat. "Guess all that studying paid off," she then added, trying to guide her friend back to her account of their academic days.
"Yeah, guess so," May contemplatively rejoined, unstirred to continue.
"It's sort of admirable to be so focused on a goal from so young," Robyn persisted.
For a few seconds, it felt like that's where the conversation was going to end. May seemed absorbed in her thoughts, staring at her scroll abandoned on the table. "I don't know if it was focus," she pondered, taking the bait to Robyn's great delight. May turned to her again, an unsure frown gracing her features. "Maybe from when Ironwood recruited her, then it became focus, but… I don't know. She'd been training hard from the very beginning, but in the first year, Winter always had that sober, sort of grim expression. Nothing like resolve or focus…" May trailed off, making a circular motion with her hand, trying to pinpoint a suitable descriptor. "I don't know. She was bleak and gloomy, so it looked more like she trained the way she did out of… maybe… desperation?"
This was not what Robyn had expected. "Desperation?"
Her friend frowned at her own word. "It's the only way I can put it," she explained. "You know. Like someone trying to lose themselves into what they're doing. Like they've got nothing else."
"But she had so much," Robyn mused out loud, and as she said this, it hit her. All that Winter had, she had given up. Unlike her younger sister who'd recently been disinherited — which in and of itself was an entirely different brand of impressive — Winter had renounced what would have been rightfully hers. She didn't want it; it made her unhappy.
For a moment, May stared at the tan blonde wordlessly, they'd both seemed to have realized the same thing.
"Money doesn't buy happiness," May eventually stated, voicing what they were both thinking. If anyone could understand that sentiment, she could. She'd also been born with a silver spoon, and just like Winter, had turned her back on that world and its expectations. The blue-haired girl had grown more austere. "It's such a cliché, but it really doesn't. It didn't for me, and obviously, it didn't for her either," she vented, her expression having turned downright somber.
Robyn knew that this shift in mood was in part because that period of her friend's life had been one of the hardest, and reminiscing about it never left her unaffected. "Hey," she called gently. "No need to dive into it, don't do this to yourself."
May shook her head. "No, I'm fine. It's been a while since I've thought of my school days. But looking back now, how Winter acted… it reminds me a lot of how I was myself," she carefully said. "And... you know. I wasn't doing good," she then added with a sour, forced laugh.
What an understatement. Before transitioning, May had been suicidally depressed. Shedding her old life had been her saving grace.
Robyn took the time to let this sink in. May was suggesting that, albeit not to the same catastrophic depth, Winter had also been suffering from depression back then. And though Robyn had a hard time imagining that statue of a woman struggling with such internal conflict, it wasn't too hard to imagine why someone in her shoes might struggle at all.
All the evidence corroborated the idea that Winter detested that high-society world, so it was a given that she would have despaired at the prospect of inheriting her father's position and estate. With such a burden as the unwanted inheritance of the corrupt SDC monopoly, with the burden of what keeping it afloat entailed — the endless power games, curtsies and fake smiles — and with its ruthless corporate capitalism and the moral weight of its atrocities… that in and of itself would be ample reason to make one want to back out of such an inheritance.
But the cherry on top of the sundae? What if Winter was indeed gay, as Robyn was pretty certain she was? This wasn't Mistral or Vacuo — even Vale was leagues ahead in how they responded to such differences. How backwards the Atlas elite was about all this was why May had ended up making her life in Mantle. Atlesians were likely to shun business relationships over something like this, and the SDC might very well have run to bankruptcy should it come to light that its CEO was a 'deviant.'
Robyn sighed gently. She couldn't imagine being a teenager and living under that sort of pressure. "I can see how she might not have been doing good either," she commented. "If Jacques Schnee was my father and he'd laid out a life plan for me to follow in his footsteps, I'd have been depressed too."
"I don't know that she was depressed, it's all speculation," May reminded her. "But… yeah. From someone who's been through it, it definitely looks like it in retrospect."
"...And you claimed there wasn't much to say," Robyn mused.
"I never took the time to think about it," she shot back. "Plus, I haven't seen her in ages, I had no reason to think back on it."
"We see her all the time in the papers," the tan blonde pointed out.
"I don't take a trip down memory lane every time one of the rich heirs I knew from Atlas Academy shows up in the papers, there'd be no end," May bemoaned, rolling her eyes. She shook her head. "But hey, if Winter was depressed, it looks like being recruited by Ironwood fixed it for her. It looked like she was doing fine starting halfway through our second year and on."
If one was to be uplifted by the prospect of the regimented life of the military of all things… Robyn had to assume that whatever avenue Ironwood had offered her, Winter at least found purpose in it. Finding direction and meaning in the path they'd chosen is the only way Robyn could imagine that a military life might make anyone happier. It was enough to make Robyn wonder what part of Winter's duties could be so important that one would feel it gave their life purpose. The blonde hummed to herself. "When you say she was fine from then on, are you going by mutual friends' reports, or just from looking back you think she acted normal?"
May made a face. "Err... she acted normal-er," she corrected. "Winter never really acted like a normal teenager, she was always way too serious, almost like a machine. And we didn't have friends in common, she still didn't make friends."
That again. "Seriously? No one ever tried being friends with her in four years?"
"I told you they did, a lot of them tried. But she was never easy to approach, and then she renounced her inheritance, which made her less interesting to these people. So everyone just let her be."
"Everyone?" Robyn repeated, a little skeptical. She, for one, knew she wouldn't give up so easily, so she had to consider that at least one group might not be deterred so fast. "...Even hormonal teenage boys? With such a pretty face?"
May snorted. "Sure, they tried. Until she rejected so many of them that people started saying that she was a lesbian, which, you know the people up there, it made her even more of a pariah."
Robyn's eyebrows shot up. Though it might've been a rumor started out of spite, she had the impression that they might've been more right than they knew.
May knew Robyn well enough to read her mind from her expression. "I don't know, maybe?"
"Maybe?"
Her teammate gave a shrug. "It's not like I have any proof, or even any concrete reason to think so, but… even before the rumors started, it did cross my mind back then that she might be some flavor of queer."
"Takes one to know one," Robyn mused, crossing her arms as a nagging smile grew on her lips.
May again leaned back in her chair, staring at her with interest. "Which means you also got that impression when you saw her?"
"Yeah, I couldn't shake it off," she said, feeling herself grin in maybe a little too satisfied a manner. Robyn's split-second assessment didn't seem to have been wishful thinking, and her excitement over this was hard to suppress.
How obviously thrilled she was tipped her friend off; May's face fell. "Wait — that's what you'd been wanting to know all along?"
Busted. Robyn put her hands up defensively. "Not only that, but... I did wonder if you'd confirm my suspicions."
May stared at her like she'd grown a second head; of course she now understood where Robyn's interest truly stemmed from, why it was Winter Schnee who Robyn got so curious about and not Clover Ebi or any of the other Special Ops. May knew exactly what type of woman made her team leader's head turn. "Please don't tell me you're interested."
"I'm not interested," Robyn immediately defended, though aware they both knew it wasn't true.
May shot up, slamming both hands on the table. "Robyn."
"I mean… I've been thinking—"
"No!" She seethed. "Are you crazy? No thinking about it!"
"It's too late for that," she admitted. Somehow, the white figure had occupied her mind since that evening, and Robyn had to admit… her mind's eye had played her a sequence of scenarios in which Winter was much, much warmer to her than her name inspired.
"Well leave it at that; a thought, nothing else. Stay away. Far away."
"Uh… what if I… maybe talked to her a bit?"
May's expression gradually lost its irate tautness, leaving room for incredulous distress to take its place. She plopped back down in her chair "…Officially the worst idea you've ever had."
Robyn shrugged, standing in turn to start pacing the room. "Admittedly, one of the worst, yeah," she acknowledged with a sigh. "But I don't know. I just keep thinking back on the evening… and I really had to talk to her."
"No, you didn't," May argued stubbornly. "In fact, you specifically didn't. You had a clear list of people you had to talk to, and she wasn't on that list," she ranted, a little vexed. "I made that list."
"Yes, okay, true," Robyn nodded walking around the table to sit adjacent to her friend. "But... I couldn't help it, I was too curious," she admitted, knowing her teammate was well aware of how often Robyn's near insuppressible impulses got her into trouble. "You weren't there, May," she pressed, holding eye contact in an attempt to convey her earnestness. It had been a sight to see how completely stoic and unapproachable the woman had been when any guest tried talking to her, and how in contrast, the ice queen's expression thawed for the staff; for the common people. "It was insanely obvious that she not only disliked the guests, but she also respected the workers," Robyn explained. "It took me by surprise."
May shrugged, unswayed. "Respect for the working class isn't too unexpected coming from someone in the military, isn't it?"
"Hmm." She should've realized that. What with being drilled, dragged through the mud, stripped of all comfort, made to do chores, and training until exhaustion… it was part of every recruit's training, no matter their social status or money in the bank. Of which Winter probably didn't have much left if any anyways, having cut ties with her family and inheritance. Although… from May's account, Winter's dislike for the wealthy dated further, at least to their Academy days. "Don't you find it interesting that a Schnee would turn out like that?"
"...Not really," May countered. "I don't know what Jacques Schnee does to his children, but Winter's not the only one who went rogue. Look at what happened with Weiss. Two months ago, the undead Grimm at that reception and then, what…? A week later? She smuggles herself on a dust ship to fuck off and disappear. Still no word of where she's at."
"No need to remind me," Robyn said, feeling herself grin. When the news of that had broken, she'd laughed like she hadn't laughed in a long time. "Okay, so Winter's not the only one, but until these two, the Schnees have always been haughty aristocracy… Doesn't it make you curious? Not even one bit?"
"You're overthinking it."
"Don't I need to, if I want to win her over?" Robyn shot back, realizing the mistake she'd made as soon as the words left her mouth. "I mean, get her on our side, you know?"
May didn't look happy. "Did Winter give you any signs that it wouldn't be useless to try to win her over?"
"…Not really."
"Not really, or not at all?"
The blonde cleared her throat. "She was pretty abrasive when I tried talking to her," she sheepishly admitted, the evening replaying in her mind. "It was kinda obvious she was doing her best to say as few words as possible and be as disagreeable as possible so I'd leave her alone."
May was unimpressed. "And you didn't think you should've just… left her alone?"
"That's no fun," Robyn shot, smiling. But her friend seemed more and more deeply unamused as the conversation went on, so she quickly continued. "I don't know… I don't want to leave her alone, especially not after what we just figured out," she earnestly said, trying to appeal to her friend's soft side. They had no concrete proof for any of it — that Winter abhorred Atlas' upper class, that she'd been depressed at all, or that she might be in the closet — and yet Robyn felt certain that they were correct in their assessment. Robyn stood up again, reinvigorated with decisiveness. "She's like you, May. Even back then, she felt like she didn't belong with the people up there in Atlas. She's not like them and she doesn't like them."
Maybe it was how firmly and certainly Robyn had affirmed this, but May's sour mood eased. She gave a small sigh; "Yeah, okay. I can see that."
"Maybe she'd have been happier if she chose to live freely down here, like you did," Robyn speculated, encouraged by at last getting a favorable reply. "Maybe she didn't see that option back then, so she chose the first escape route she saw."
"She made her choice when she committed to the military," May idly pointed out.
"Maybe she didn't realize there were other paths," Robyn proposed, undeterred.
To which, her teammate didn't just roll her eyes, she rolled her entire head on her shoulders with a groan. "Whether she did or didn't, it's not your problem. She's a grown-ass woman, let her live her life the way she damn pleases. Stop thinking of 'what ifs'."
"I can't not think about it! I mean, imagine how valuable an asset she'd be to us now that she's been Ironwood's darling pupil for years!"
"Yeah, I can imagine all sorts of other unlikely shit that'd be helpful too; what if Ironwood fell on his head and suddenly cared about Mantle and not just Atlas? What if the heating grid magically got renovated? What if the SDC miners had healthcare?"
Robyn squinted at her. "Be serious."
May sighed. "I am serious. My point is, it's wishful thinking. You're getting excited about this idea you have of Winter, but she doesn't seem to me like the type that'd betray her entire life and career just 'cause you're batting your eyelashes at her," she pointed out. "Leave her alone, it's not worth it. You'd only be wasting time and effort"
Her friend wasn't wrong, and Robyn almost felt herself sway. It was true that she was going out on a limb, getting fired up about someone she knew nothing about, getting excited over the assumptions they were making. But her mind's eye again showed her Winter's frigid and callous interactions with the rich guests and her comparative gentility to the working people, and it reinvigorated Robyn's resolve. "No," she disputed. "It's not a waste of time." The vivid image of Winter's vacillating gaze as their eyes met for the first time, and the memory of how, in spite of her best efforts, Winter couldn't remain unfazed when Robyn had dared a playful flirt insisted on worming their way to the forefront of her mind. Robyn shook her head. "You weren't, there May. You haven't seen what I've seen, or how she looked at me. She doesn't like these people, and she's curious about m—…us," she carefully corrected. "She's curious about what we do, what we're fighting for. It's not a waste of time."
"Curious about you?" she repeated, unashamedly exposing her friend's lapsus. "In what way do you mean all that exactly? When you say it's not a waste of time, are you talking about gaining her as an ally, or your chances to woo her?"
"Both?"
"Both, but mainly the second," May confirmed.
Robyn took it in stride. "If I do, odds would be that she'd also become an ally," she pointed out, as if she was being completely reasonable.
May mouthed warily; "...it's a terrible idea, Robyn."
"But is it really?"
"Yes!" Her friend exclaimed in disbelief. "Forget about the fact that you're both on the opposite end of the political spectrum… How do you think it'd look to your supporters, seeing you be all over Atlas' royalty? All that not even knowing if she could ever be interested in you?" She shook her head. "And the icing on the cake? It's not just one of your opponents she's linked to, but two," she reminded , holding her index finger up. "Jacques Schnee." She held out a second finger. "James Ironwood."
Robyn's lips stretched in a bleak smile. "Both her daddies don't like me," she commented with a dejected laugh. Being reminded of it was a sobering fact, and she felt her mood dampen. "I know very well," she repeated, a little grimly.
She hadn't been interested in anyone in a very long time now, and she just had to be drawn to the most challenging and unattainable candidate possible, didn't she? Because, after all, was there any other woman out there who might be a worse choice than Winter Schnee? Robyn certainly couldn't think of any.
And yet, she knew herself enough to know that should she give up without trying, doubts and regrets would forever plague her.
"...Why can't you just find a nice girl down here in Mantle?" May posed, unknowingly echoing the other woman's thoughts. "Why do you go and do that to yourself?"
Robyn shrugged. "I'm not doing anything to myself. It's not like I'm gonna bend over backwards if it turns out to be a dead end. I just thought… she's interesting. That's all."
May didn't seem convinced. "It's gonna be trouble," she muttered forebodingly.
Stepping into the grand hall, Robyn scanned the floor for the immaculate silhouette of the woman she'd taken interest in. As expected, said woman was standing immobile at the edge of the crowd, watching the bustling guests mingle and chat away. It didn't take long for Winter to notice her, and, as soon as she did, she immediately looked away. Only a few seconds later, Winter glanced back at her, like she couldn't contain her curiosity, but again caught herself and promptly fixed her gaze elsewhere. Robyn raised her eyebrows, amused. Despite her delight in the circumstances however, the Mantle representative had actual business to attend to; her whims would have to wait.
Thus, Robyn went forth to mingle with the people her ex-Atlesian teammate had prepared her to charm. She did so exceptionally well given the wariness many of them had towards this newcomer to the political scene. Robyn let the first half of the evening go by, waiting for the attendees to get somewhat tipsy and careless before she stole away to address the person whose gaze she'd felt boring into the back of her skull for hours. Now that Robyn was standing next to her though, the woman was stubbornly snubbing her.
"Hey there," Robyn ventured, an untouched drink in hand and a light smile on her lips. Pale blue eyes slid her way for a second, then Winter resumed supervising the crowd. This was going to be harder than anticipated. "Not even gonna greet me back?"
"Greetings."
How literal; Robyn was impressed. For a moment, she waited to see if anything would follow that begrudging answer or if the other woman would keep pretending she wasn't standing just there, staring directly at her. When it became evident that it was the latter, Robyn took it upon herself to try striking up a conversation. "How've you been since last time? It's been what, two weeks?"
"Twelve days," Winter pointedly corrected.
This made her smile. No surprise there; such a high-ranking soldier would indeed be fastidious. Robyn's teasing bone was tickled. "You count the days between the times you see me?"
Winter stiffened; "I happen to know the amount of days between the dreadful public events I am mandated to attend."
Robyn's nagging grin persisted. "Disappointing. I thought I'd made an impact."
"You have," the military woman granted, to Robyn's bewilderment. Winter locked eyes with her deep purple ones. "You make those events more dreadful."
At this, Robyn couldn't suppress a candid laugh. She couldn't believe just how brazenly insulting Winter was willing to be in her attempt to chase her away, and Robyn wondered what tactic she'd adopt if she knew that this frankly unexpected coarseness only fanned her interest. "Is that your sense of humor showing?"
"No," Winter denied, returning her gaze to the crowd. "And don't hold your breath."
The up-and-coming politician took another moment to observe her, allowing again for her target to continue. She didn't. "So, you haven't answered me. How are you?"
"Alive."
Robyn looked her up and down. "I can see that you are," she acquiesced with exaggerated interest, rewarded with a roll of the other woman's eyes. "I've been well."
"I didn't ask."
"I thought I should let you know anyways," Robyn explained without skipping a beat. She leaned over slightly. "Simple check-ins are a thing when establishing friendships."
The ice queen pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing at the crowd. "Which we are not doing."
"You can say that all you want, but you were staring at me like you were hoping I'd chat you up again," she remarked.
"I was not," Winter objected sharply.
"You were looking at me," Robyn countered. "You can't say you weren't, you know I saw you."
Puffing her chest slightly — in what looked to be indignation — the soldier frowned. "You're a noteworthy guest. I'm instructed to be attentive."
It was a nice save, but Robyn wasn't sold. "Are you sure that's all it is?"
"That's all it is."
"That's really not what it looked like," the blonde grinned.
"That's all it is," Winter repeated adamantly.
"…Sure."
Winter glanced her way, annoyed. "I don't know what you're trying to imply."
So she was going to pretend they didn't both know that they'd caught each other's eye? "Sure you do."
"I really don't."
She really was, huh? Robyn decided she'd circle back to this sometime later, or maybe next time. "If you say so," she shrugged, still smiling.
Winter didn't seem pleased with this answer, but she evidently loathed even more the idea of being made to push this any further; she dropped it.
After a moment of blatantly staring at her intractable target, Robyn decided to give her a break, letting her gaze wander the room instead. The other attendees looked to be having a good time; the room was warm with laughter, and the staff was kept busy maintaining the flow of drinks. Robyn still hadn't touched hers, and had no intention of doing so; aiming to remain as sharp as she could. The only reason she made a point of not being empty-handed was to blend in, in the hope that her new 'friends' might feel comfortable and drop their guard. Speaking of friendships, her eye caught Henry Marigold, May's cousin, and it ignited again Robyn's inclination to probe the ice queen. "So, Winter — I can call you Winter, right?"
Her eyebrows crinkled; "You may not."
She had suspected as much. "Right. How should I address you?"
"Schnee."
Robyn had also expected this, but she didn't love it. "That's so… rigid."
"It's my name."
"So is Winter."
Robyn received a frosty glare in response. A chill ran down her spine, leaving her all at once a little jittery, impressed with the efficiency of that scowl, and also… she didn't hate it? She paused to gather a hold of herself. "Fine — okay! As you wish, Miss Schnee," she complied, but it didn't sound quite right. "Or is Officer Schnee better? Special Ops Schnee? Or just Schnee?"
"I don't care."
The blonde resisted another wiseass comeback. "So anyway, Schnee, I meant to ask you; you know the Marigolds, right?"
"Of course."
"Do you remember Mason Marigold? From your time at the Academy?"
Winter glanced her way. "May Marigold, your teammate."
Robyn's eyebrows went up in surprise. "I'm surprised you're in the loop."
"I wasn't," Winter admitted. "Not until you surfaced."
This made the blonde grin. "So you looked into my entourage? I'm flattered," she teased.
"You're a noteworth—"
"Noteworthy guest, I know," Robyn cut in. She was going to bring up what May had said about Winter, but now that the topic was so naturally within reach, Robyn couldn't resist investigating this particular Schnee's sentiments on the topic of queerness. Was Winter so deeply in the closet that she'd pretend to be offended by the mere idea of it, as would the vast majority of Atlesians? "What do you think of her?" Robyn interestedly asked.
Winter didn't bat an eyelash. "Nothing."
"You've seen her almost every day for four years, and you have no opinion on her?"
"Exactly."
"No thoughts at all?" Robyn still pressed, unwilling to abandon her line of inquiry so easily. "Come on, you must have something to say."
Winter sighed lightly, but appeared to understand that Robyn wouldn't leave it alone until she said something. She took a second to think it over, visibly trying to come up with at least one thing. Finally, she glanced at Robyn. "Her semblance is very useful," she noted.
Robyn stared at her, slightly dumbfounded. That's all she'd found to say? After taking the time to think it through? ...Well, at least Winter had used the correct pronoun, which was more than she could say about any of May's relatives. Robyn still didn't want to give up just yet; "...What about her as a person?"
Winter looked mildly annoyed with her insistence. "I never knew her well."
Well, that was fair. It was somewhat of a wonder that Winter had made the effort to find anything to say at all. On her side, Robyn was satisfied enough by Winter going in stride with the correct pronouns, and not giving a hint, not even a tiny twitch in her expression, that might indicate aversion. If the woman was as placid about this as she was about anything else, then there evidently wasn't any issue. Winter might not be out, but she evidently didn't adopt the typical Atlesian's biggoted attitude, not even in pretense. Robyn found herself smiling. "May didn't know you very well either, and yet she had quite a lot to say about you and your time at the Academy," she revealed.
Some surprise showed on the other woman's face. "Must have been dull," Winter commented.
"Dull?" Robyn repeated. "I didn't think so."
Although she could understand why Winter might think there was nothing much to say; the ice queen did keep a consistently dedicated studying and training program, and didn't mingle at all. Winter couldn't possibly know just how much they had been able to read into May's observations, and Robyn wasn't about to start laying out all their speculation for her. Instead, she decided to broach the most obviously compelling part of Winter's time at Atlas Academy. "I hear that you were recruited by General Ironwood during your second year. Not even halfway through your academic training."
"It's true."
"Does that happen often?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"So you're really special, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"How modest," Robyn half-mocked, certain that she couldn't really mean it.
Winter frowned, evidently completely serious. "I wasn't special, just convenient," she explained, glancing at Robyn once more. "There was a job, I fit the bill. That's all."
Somewhat at a loss, Robyn held her gaze until the other woman resumed her soldierly stance. This glimpse into Winter's mind was a dismaying one. Convenient, like she was nothing more than a tool — like the sword at her side. Convenient; like that was any way to speak of a human being. Had the woman resolved to cast herself aside such that she saw herself as nothing more than a cog in the General's plan?
And anyways, how 'convenient' does one have to be to get cherry-picked this way? Robyn highly doubted that General Ironwood personally handled hiring every single officer, which absolutely spoke to her being much more than just 'convenient'. Whatever 'job' was personally offered to Winter before she'd even completed her training had to have required a very special person to perform it if no one in the entire Atlesian army had been suited. With this, Robyn decided that whatever that was, whatever Winter's task as Special Ops was, it would be worth looking into. Off the top of her head, Robyn's best guess was that it may have to do with Winter's semblance. Everyone was aware of some of the Schnee's glyphs capacities; time dilation, gravity, summoning… what else would someone with Winter's training be able to do?
It took another moment for Robyn to manage detaching her eyes from the ever-more mystifying woman. She turned to again survey the tipsy crowd, her eyes drawn to the other Special Ops in attendance. There were three: two tan women, one extremely small, the other extremely tall, and their dashing commander. All of them looked more or less relaxed, and although they remained very professional, they humoured the guests who insisted on chatting them up. Unlike this one over here. Oh, Robyn wasn't deploring her object of interest's unengaging disposition; though it made it incredibly challenging to get to know her, it was — after all — the entire reason Robyn had felt Winter worth her effort. The only thing that did bother her was that she still didn't understand why Winter treated her like she did all the wealthy Atlesians. Robyn might've become a prominent figure, but she was a far cry from Atlas' upper class, she was much more like a run-of-the-mill Mantle citizen, like this event's staff, and they were graced with cordial head nods on Winter's part. Did Winter have the wrong idea about her? It couldn't be, right? Winter had investigated her after all. Or maybe… was it because of the palpable chemistry between them? Winter might actively be trying to push her away for all the reasons they both knew they shouldn't even be considering friendship, let alone romance. In spite of it all, Robyn did wish she'd find the crack to worm her way through the stoic woman's shell already.
"Where's your friend?" the rugged blonde ventured, figuring that her present company might be more inclined to chat about something she'd previously shown a hint of emotion about. She was met with a confused frown. "I mean Metal-Girl," she specified.
"Penny," Winter corrected, a hint of irritation tingeing her voice.
"Okay, where's Penny?"
"Busy."
"Well yeah, obviously, since she's not here. Where is she?"
"Classified."
Of course it was. Robyn sighed. "You're a woman of a few words, aren't you," she commented.
"I'm a soldier, not a politician," Winter pointed out.
"Touché," the blonde grinned. "Maybe we'd all benefit from politicians talking less," she added offhandedly. "So many of them are just full of wind, they keep on blathering while saying nothing."
"How very self-aware of you," the ice queen sarcastically shot back.
"Hey, I wouldn't have to make small talk if you were a little more engaging," Robyn countered.
"I don't engage with the likes of you," Winter answered, disdain clear in her tone.
Robyn felt it like a genuine stab. There it was; the reason that Winter hadn't eased up around her as she would with the ordinary people working these events. …What did Winter mean by that, though? "The likes of me?" Robyn repeated, feeling her heart in her throat, disillusionment weighing her stomach as she hoped the words didn't mean what she thought. "What do you mean by 'The likes of me'? People from Mantle?" Did she really have Winter pegged so wrong, or was the other woman simply trying to chase her away at all costs?
Winter threw her the iciest glare yet. "No. The likes of you; people who play games of power."
It was such a delightfully unexpected answer, Robyn felt her heart so abruptly catapulted up from the depths from where it'd sank that she had to take a second to recover and find her bearings again. She loved that answer. She also now completely understood the woman's bullheaded attitude, reinvigorating her interest. "Your father plays games of power," she said, still recovering.
"I don't speak to that goblin."
Robyn had to swallow a would-be boisterous laugh. Her eyebrows were high in surprise, half that Winter had insulted him so freely, but also… after the much mediatized drama surrounding her abdication, there hadn't been much of a follow-up. In the aftermath Winter's relationship with her family had remained nebulous, and Jacques Schnee had always implied they were on good terms.
"I see," Robyn managed, regaining her composure. It wasn't surprising that the SDC CEO had lied about this. Atlas' upper class was all about appearances, and it wouldn't look good if the general public knew ties were entirely severed with his eldest daughter. That Winter hadn't set the public record straight while Jacques Schnee made it look like they had a good relationship truly was a testament to how disinterested she was in political games.
Robyn decided to attack from another angle. "The General plays games of power," she stated.
"He doesn't," Winter countered vehemently, turning to face her. The same fierceness as when she'd defended Penny's personhood had surfaced. "General Ironwood is not playing."
Robyn felt anger rising; "I'm not playing either," she snapped back.
Winter was visibly startled by her pushback.
Robyn was too agitated to stop there. "It's not a game to me either; all this," she fervidly continued, incapable of suppressing what had started to flow out. "I'm not here for fun. I'm here because someone has to step forward and speak for Mantle. Someone has to do something about how bad things have gotten down there!"
The cool blue eyes had remained locked with hers through her tirade, holding steadfast. "Are you telling me that you don't care about status and power?" Winter challenged point-blank. "About the money? About living in Atlas, the city in the sky?" She stepped closer, and though she was markedly shorter than Robyn, it was decidedly intimidating. Winter narrowed her eyes. "Is all that not why you're attempting to hoist yourself above the rest of Mantle's people? Is that not even just a little bit why you want that seat?"
"It's not. I really don't care," Robyn reiterated, unwilling to back down. "I don't intend on living here — not if, but when I get that seat," she asserted, also stepping closer, towering over her. "I don't want to be surrounded by these people any more than you do, but I have to do this if I want Mantle to have a voice, if I want anything to get better down there."
Winter still held her gaze unflinchingly, wordlessly challenging what had been said, yet Robyn wouldn't give an inch. Ultimately, the ice queen seemed satisfied, her eyes swiping down Robyn's figure and up again, sizing her up. Winter gave a thoughtful hum, then stepped back to her original position, again surveilling the crowd. It seemed to Robyn that the stiffness in her posture gave some, even if just a little. Her irritation with Robyn's presence seemed to have dissipated.
Robyn exhaled a tense breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was remarkable how threatening the woman could make herself. There was a short silence before the blonde willed herself to address her again. "You thought I was here for my own gain?"
Winter was observing two rambunctious, perhaps overly intoxicated men. "How many people don't do this for their own gain?"
"Good point," Robyn admitted. Every single other attendee in the room unabashedly sought money, fame, power, or all three. "But I'm not," she assuredly repeated. "The only thing I want to gain is better conditions for the people I love. I can't stand idle and do nothing when I have the abilities and opportunity to change things."
Winter gave an almost imperceptible nod, and it seemed to Robyn that her features had softened slightly. "I understand," she acknowledged quietly.
Deeply encouraged by this shift in demeanor, Robyn decided to try her luck. "Is that what you've been trying to do? Why you chose to join the military?"
She hummed in approval.
"…You think working for General Ironwood will help you accomplish that?" She asked, curiosity in her voice.
"I know so."
"How do you know?"
"Classified."
"Right."
Again, Winter looked her way, and it seemed to Robyn that — for the first time — she was really looking at her. This time, Winter wasn't simply glaring at another pompous guest whose presence and whims she had to endure. This time, she wasn't attempting to analyze an incongruous irregularity that she needed to be prepared to react to. Winter was looking at her like - now that she had let go of her preconceptions - she was trying to reassess their previous interactions. There was a keen glimmer of curiosity in her pale blue eyes, and she looked somewhat disconcerted. She clearly didn't know what to make of her, but at least the hostile frost in her gaze had given way.
It felt as though a weight was lifted off, like the air between them was more relaxed, and Robyn was infinitely thankful that somehow the authenticity of what she'd affirmed had come across, that Winter had seen her words to be genuine.
Robyn crossed her arms and looked on, trying to figure out what the other woman was observing with such disinterest. Clover Ebi had intervened with the drunk men, and there was no trace of commotion left. The festive crowd was nowhere as interesting to Robyn as the woman standing by her side. The blonde turned to her again, blatantly boring into her with her gaze for a solid minute.
Winter eventually gave a resigned sigh. "...What?"
"I have to admit, your height surprised me the first time I saw you," Robyn mused.
Winter frowned, evidently not expecting this. "How is my height surprising?"
With a shrug, the tan blonde dug her hands in her pockets. "You hold yourself so tall. I'd only seen you in pictures before, and I… was under the impression that you were way taller."
"I'm of average height," she said.
Robyn hummed. "I guess so," she mused, looking down to double-check that there was indeed a heel to those boots. Winter was in truth even shorter than how she appeared now. "How much of a heel is that?"
"I'm of average height," Winter insisted, and it seemed to Robyn that she straightened her back just a bit more, as if to make herself taller.
How cute. "I didn't say you weren't."
Winter looked peeved, glancing at her again in annoyance.
In response, Robyn gave her the most charming smile she could muster.
Her gaze vacillated from its usual sharpness, showing just a hint of discomfiture, and along with it, her pearly white skin took on a telltale pinkish tint. Winter quickly returned her gaze to the crowd.
Oh, how stupidly cute.
Robyn really would've liked to see her smile, even the tiniest upturn at the edge of her lips would've been delightful. "You don't smile back at people when they smile at you?"
"Smiling isn't part of my repertoire of facial expressions."
Robyn laughed. "Wait, did you just crack a joke?"
Winter didn't answer this time, remaining riveted to the crowd. Her ears were turning red.
"You did," she teasingly gloated. "Didn't you tell me not to hold my breath?"
It was impressive just how deep of a shade of red pale skin like Winter's could turn.
"Does this mean you're kinda starting to like me, Schnee?"
"Leave."
"No way."
It was undeniable; Robyn was starting to grow on her. The thought thrilled her so much that the grin insistently stretching her lips hurt her cheeks. And this, realizing exactly how much she was smiling, hit Robyn like a ton of bricks. The awareness of how much she'd started to care whether or not Winter liked her stifled her breathing with a burning sensation in her lungs. Along with it, cold seeped through her, inducing a shiver down her spine. Her deep purple eyes remained locked to the other woman's profile, her smile gradually losing its tension.
What had been nothing but a curious impulse, nothing but a whim to nosily prod that peculiar woman, had taken a life of its own.
Robyn knew it probably wasn't yet too late to back out, to stop what she'd put into motion. Surely, it wasn't too late to prevent feelings that would be enormously difficult to manage and incredibly unwise to allow to flourish, no matter whether Winter Schnee came to develop any fondness in return. Undoubtedly, if Robyn hit the brakes now, she could turn back the wheel, she could steal away unscathed. And yet… Robyn knew herself well enough to know that it didn't matter how fervently she tried to convince herself; she couldn't remember ever being this interested in anyone, and she was too curious to see where her interest might lead them.
Trying to digest what had just come to light, Robyn sought to turn her attention anywhere else. Back to the crowd that Winter was watching, or maybe to the magnificently high ceiling of the grand hall, to its opulent chandelier. She couldn't help feeling like she should've listened to May. This had been a bad idea from the start.
She glanced again at the profile of the other woman. Her pale blue eyes, sharp and analytic, lingered on the crowd for a few seconds, then darted back to her again, evidently aware she was being watched. Winter, however, didn't seem bothered anymore. She held Robyn's gaze for a moment, before returning it to her rounds of the room.
- TBC