philotimon:
Well, she isn’t wrong about that. One of the numerous reports he received was that of a gargantuan army on the horizon, and with their forces already exhausted after repelling the first wave to save the citizens of Mantle… if James’ left hand was still functional, he was sure it’d be trembling. None of the reports mentioned anything other than Grimm, but he’s sure they’re not alone. He’s sure Salem’s at the helm, just as she threatened she would be. Her face haunts his thoughts even now, pale and ghostly, her low voice burrowing into his ears like worms.
It takes him a moment to register what Willow’s saying, but when he does he stares at her. Noting the way her expression falters, her eyes cloud over. Something trembles in his chest, an old feeling that never really went away, even after all these years. A feeling he’s finding all but impossible to suppress, but suppress he does. Or tries to, though his efforts seem to be in vain. Swallowing, he thinks about how to answer her question. Thinks about lying, to keep her blissfully unaware, but he knows as soon as he thinks as much that he can’t do that. Not when they might not even make it by sunset, and certainly not when it’s Willow.
He already lied to her once, and he’s regretted it ever since.
❝ I’m on my way to Winter now, ❞ he says instead, and resumes his walk. Not stopping her if she wishes to join him, but not slowing down, either. He’s wasting time, he’s wasting precious time, but — but it’s all he can do to keep going now, and if he stops… Brothers, if he stops, he won’t be able to go on. Willow has already made him falter, waver. Still is, but he swallows and steels himself against the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. ❝ She’s injured, but I’m told her condition isn’t critical. As for Weiss… ❞
Well, there was no way to soften the blow about those news. ❝ I don’t know. My men failed to detain her and her teammates. If she’s smart, she’s long gone. ❞
There’s only a mere fleeting moment of hesitation as she watches James stride on without her, unstoppable, unrelenting. He’s always been the strongest between the two of them, she thinks somewhere in the back of her mind. Why else would he have overcome all that had come between them while she had simply succumbed?
Willow’s heels click solidly against the tile as she follows him, only a step behind. The Academy is silent in a way she’s never recalled it save for her own nightmares, silent like the halls of the Manor or the ill - perceived thump of her own heart most nights. It’s the mention of Winter’s injury that draws a small gasp from her, her step faltering momentarily, a hand rising to her mouth to smother her horror in its crib before it can grab her by the throat.
( what right does she have to care? a small voice whispers to her. every right! every right! every right! she wants to cry back to it, but the heavy weight on her chest leaves her in silence. )
Winter... Winter will be alright. She has faith in her daughter. She knows the familiarity of steel in her eyes as she strides on without her, unstoppable, unrelenting. Winter will overcome because she knows she is just like her father. But Weiss? Weiss is just like--- No! No, she doesn’t have the right to say that anymore. Weiss doesn’t deserve to have her say that again, because she knows now what she’s selfishly, inexcusably always tried to deny. Weiss is so much greater than anything Willow Schnee could ever be. And yet... How could she have ever justified for even a moment that this meant she was above needing her mother’s protection?
“ I considered every single possibility, James, ” she tells him, her tone chilled in an instant, as biting as the unforgiving tundra outside their borders. She stands in place, daring James with only two options presented --- to stand and face her or to simply continue with his back turned. “ Every single possibility. A breach in your security, a ploy to use their capture as bait! Not once did I try to consider that you of all people would start a manhunt for my daughter in her own home. She’s a child, James! What could she have possibly done---”
