The Stardust Prince

Summary: The feeling of being saved was so strange. It could be considered a blessing, it could be considered a curse. But the feeling of saving someone…the joy you felt when you saved a life…it was something he had to experience again. He would be a Hero, because the feeling of saving someone…there was no greater pleasure.

A/N: This is a story I have been wanting to write for a long…long time. Because of that reason, I will write it as I have envisioned since then, and I will not change a single thing about the story. Nothing will be changed, there will be no reboot, no re-writing it. It shall progress exactly as I have envisioned it, and nobody will change my mind on this. Flame if you must, but I have made my choice.

Prologue - The Blood Stained Mountain

There was nobody better than a Schnee. They were above anyone and everyone in the world, especially those despicable Faunus that dare paraded around like they deserved to be among the humans like them.

That was what 9 year old Frost Schnee had always been raised believing, that there was nobody better than a Schnee. They were above anyone and everyone, and that they deserved to be respected. And nobody had proved that wrong to him yet, so therefore the Schnee were above all.

The Schnee Dust Company was the largest provider of Dust in the entire world, shipping out huge quantities of Dust to all four kingdoms. Of course, there were rumours of a few shady business deals, but that was all nonsense! And even if they did exist, then the rules should be bended just for them.

As he walked down the street and these thoughts flew through his mind, Frost sneered at a Faunus that gave him a particularly dirty look. Oh, that Faunus would definitely pay for that later, his father would make sure of that! Nobody looked at Frost like that and got away with him.

His younger brother Whitley was of the same opinion, though unlike Frost he was vocal about it. He turned to their father and spoke lowly to him, "Father that Faunus dared to throw a dirty look at us, and I think I've seen him working in the mines before. Would you mind doubling his workload for having the audacity to throw such a disgusting look at us?"

Frost smirked as he heard such dialogue, and his father, Jacques, was quick to agree, the moustache on his father's face doing quite well to hide the grin on his lips. His twin sister, Weiss, also looked rather pleased with this information, though she was much better at masking it then he was. He only noticed through the small glint in her eyes that always appeared whenever she was pleased.

The only people missing from their family were his older sister, Winter, and his mother, Willow. Though they were unimportant to him, not worth the time. Winter had left them to join the military, such a foolish thing to do. And his mother was an alcoholic, for reasons he simply couldn't comprehend. After all, did they not have everything they could ever want? What could be so bad that his mother would have to subject herself to drowning her worries away in that foul stuff?

"Father, might we return home soon?" Frost asked politely. "I believe we've spent enough time among the…" he took a moment to think of a word to properly describe the ones that littered the streets without being too offensive in public. "…people, and think we should make our way back home. We do have afternoon classes to think about, after all."

Jacques seemed to consider this for a moment, and looked at his watch for a moment. Frost knew that his father was deciding on if they really had spent enough time walking around displaying the image of a 'happy family.' His father took another moment, before he lowered his watch and nodded sharply. "Yes, we've spent long enough here. Back to the limo, we're going back home now. And once we get back, you will completely you evening classes, and then finish any work assigned to you before dinner."

Weiss and Frost both gave their father sharp nods to show they understood. Whitley looked like he'd swallowed something sour, but nodded in agreement as well. It was no secret that among the three of them Whitley detested needing to do work, he'd rather sit back and let everyone do the work for him.

He dismissed the thoughts from his mind, the family quickly headed to their limo and climbed in, and they were soon driving back to their family estate.

"I must ask you father," Whitley's disgusted voice came as Frost gazed out of the window, not really paying attention to them too much. "Why must I be forced to endure these lessons? Weiss is the heiress, and Frost is next in line after her if she should perish. Surely I shouldn't need these lessons."

"Father, will you permit me to educate Whitley?" Frost cut in before his father could offer a response. "After all, you have more important things to think about then Whitley's whining," he added on. Appealing to his father's thoughts that business was very important was how Frost tended to twist the man around his finger, far more skilled than anyone else in their family at doing so.

"Hm…very well, Frost," Jacques said after a moment of silence, agreeing with his first son. "Whitley, listen to your brother." He ordered, pulling out his scroll and making important notes as he proceeded to ignore them.

"But father-!" Whitley tried to argue, but a stern look from Jacques cut him off, and instead he focused on Frost with a displeased look.

"The White Fang are relentless in their efforts to kill us, Whitley," Frost's voice was cold, and sharp. So much so that Weiss and Whitley both shuddered just from the sound of it, like it was a chip of ice from a glacier. "They are getting more innovative, despite the fact they are mere animals, and even animals can learn if you train them hard enough. Eventually, they will target and possibly kill myself and Weiss. At that point, you will stand to inherit everything. So you shall stop acting like a child, and you shall do your work. Am I clear, little brother?"

The emphasis on the 'little' was enough to get his point across to Whitley. Frost rarely, if ever, referred to Whitley as his little brother, and if he did then it meant that he was less then pleased with him and there would be consequences if he didn't cease with whatever he was doing that was causing annoyance.

"…Yes big brother," Whitley said in a small but submissive voice, acknowledging his brother as the more dominant force between them once again, and backed down without another moment of hesitation.

"You really must teach me how you do that someday, Frost," Weiss said after a brief moment of silence. She herself was the oldest among the three, yet she was unable to reel in Whitley's attitude like Frost was.

Then again, Frost was visibly different from Weiss and Whitley, even Jacques. Looking at him, you'd be somewhat hard pressed to believe he was related to any of them. While he did have a somewhat feminine look to him, and he was rather pale skinned like the rest that was where the similarities ended. His hair was a vibrant shade of light blue, it had been since his birth. And while his family had blue eyes, his own were a wine red.

It had left the family rather confused why, until Willow confessed that her mother had naturally blue hair, and supposed that the combination of white genes with blue genes caused light blue. The eyes were also a mystery, until they went to the doctor and discovered it was a rare birth defect, though nothing harming. His eyes were just born an unnatural colour, with the pupils being slightly slit shaped, though there was a chance they'd change colour when he was older.

"It's all in the tone, dear sister," Frost told her, not having once looked away from the sights out the window during the entire exchange, even as they drove past the gates of their manor. "It's all in the tone."

-Line Break-

It had been a few days since that day in the town, and Frost found himself quickly growing…unsatisfied. It was a rare feeling for him, since he usually got to experience all of life's pleasures. But when he did feel unsatisfied, Frost tended to get a little…eccentric with his actions.

A good example of just what happened when he got eccentric would be the week long string of pranks he played upon Whitley. He didn't play them on his mother because she wasn't worth his time, his father was busy, Weiss was the heir and he didn't want to get in trouble for that, and the maids and butlers hadn't done anything to wrong him. Which meant Whitley had been the target for his eccentric actions.

He might have taken it a bit far when he stole Whitley's clothes and tricked him into streaking through the manor to get them again, but he found it hilarious so he didn't allow himself to feel too guilty about it. And besides, even Whitley himself admitted that it was certainly more fun than being forced to do all those lessons he so hated, so they both won in the end.

Though maybe Whitley only said that in fear of further pranks from his older brother, who knew?

In any case, it wasn't long before Frost found his lack of satisfaction growing. And with it his eyes began to wander away from his work and out the window, in an attempt to think of something to do. And it wasn't long before his eyes settled on the snowy mountain that was visible from his room.

Slowly, the gears began to turn in his head, a small shine entered his eyes, and a grin spread across his lips. The more he thought, the brighter the shine got. The brighter the shine got, the more his grin grew. Until finally, agonisingly, Frost drawled out five words.

He never had any idea of the weight those words would hold. He never had any consideration of just how much the fate the world would be changed by his words, about exactly what would happen once he spoke them.

Whether it be the will of a god, or the gears of destiny beginning to spin in a new direction; nobody could have predicted what kind of future would happen when a nine year old boy who cared for nobody but himself and his immediate family spoke five simple words.

"I could climb a mountain."

And with those words, the second heir to the Schnee lineage slipped on the bulkiest and warmest clothes he owned, along with a pair of goggles to prevent any snow getting in his eyes, before sneaking out of the manor and heading towards one of Atlas' snowy peaks. He fully intended to climb it as high as he could before he ran out of stamina, or before the search teams his father would no doubt send out found him.

Yes, with only those five words that were spoken during the whimsical moments of a child, the future shifted off of its set course.

-Line Break-

"It's cold," Frost said intelligently, shivering as he hiked up the mountain as snow began to fall.

He probably should have thought things through when he spontaneously decided that he was going to climb up a mountain, especially when said mountain was almost completely covered in snow.

But still he continued to climb, refusing to let up in doing so for even a single second. He hated to give up once he'd set his mind on a goal, and today wasn't any different, even when he knew his father would be sending out search parties to find him. He couldn't have the heir to his family in case Weiss passed dying, after all.

Frost snorted at the mere thought. His father wasn't a bad man…well he was, but he at least showed some semblance of care for his family. Perhaps Weiss, Winter, and Whitley didn't notice, but Frost did. He'd seen how their father was just a bit more guarded around them ever since Willow started drinking. He'd heard him talking to the Ironwood one night, warning him that if a single hair on Winter's head was hurt as a result of his 'brainwashing,' then he'd make the General's life very difficult.

Shaking his head and banishing the thoughts from his mind, Frost continued the trek up the mountain. He continued to climb for what felt like a long time, before he finally decided it was time to turn back. He turned to make his way back down…before he froze in fear as a howl ripped through the area.

He knew what the howl was. It was the howl of one of the creatures of darkness that plagued their world. It was the howl of a Grimm. But there was something off about it, something…different. Without even realising it, his feed had begun to take him in the direction of the howl. He tried to turn away, but he found himself unable to do so. He continued to move in the direction of the howl.

As he moved, the howl grew louder and whatever was filling it grew more and more apparent. Yet no matter how he tried, he was still unable to place just what it was about the howl that sounded so familiar to him. It took a while but he finally arrived at the location, that was when the howl finally died down, and he finally realised what was filling the howl that was so familiar.

Looking forward, he saw the decaying corpse of a Beowolf, with was no doubt the source of the howling. And it now made sense why the howls were filled with such pain and agony, it was dying very slowly.

Momentary confusion was replaced with realisation as the beast faded into darkness, and the body of a man was found under it. He was wounded, heavily, and his blood stained the snow around and under him red. His breath was getting more shallow as the seconds passed, indicating he didn't have much time left.

Panicking, Frost ran over to him. "D-don't die yet!" Frost pleaded, though he wasn't quite sure why he was doing this. Perhaps it was his instinct as a person to not want to see someone die in front of him. Maybe it was because he didn't want a good huntsman to go down like this, with nobody to remember him.

The man simply coughed and focused his brown eyes on Frost. "Haa…boy…I'm afraid my time is coming to an end," he said. He didn't know Frost, but he would use his last moments to make sure the child knew he couldn't be saved.

"Don't talk like that," he snapped. "You have to survive! I-I'll take you to a hospital, my dad will get the best medics to keep you alive, so come on, you have to stay alive!"

"There's no time…" the man said simply as he directed his gaze to the sky. "…You know, I wanted to be a hero," he told Frost tiredly, reminiscing on his life. "It's why…I became a huntsman…to save others, and be a hero. But in the end…I've failed to save any one and anything…"

"You…" Frost was speechless. This man…was beyond his comprehension. His whole life, he'd been taught to take what he wanted, and that there was nobody better then him. That being selfish was the way of the world, and yet this man…had given his life, everything he was, for the sake of others. "Why…? Why would you give your life for such a thing?"

"…Because it was the right thing to do," the man whispered out, before coughing violently. "Ah…I'm close to the end now…" slowly, his gaze shifted to Frost. "…If you would fulfil the request of this selfish man…then I ask you to be a hero…be the hero I never could. Even if you only save one person, it will be enough."

Frost couldn't help it. He gulped. That…that was a lot to ask of him. For all his life, Frost only cared about himself and his immediate family. And this man was asking him to change himself. To live his life and save people. Then again…just one person, right? He just had a save a single person, and it would be over. That was all it took, right? So he would humour the request of this man, out of respect.

"I will be a hero," he told the man solemnly. Just one person would be enough, Frost reassured himself.

But then the man did something that tugged at Frost's heartstrings, and spread a feeling throughout himself that would take control of his life.

The man smiled. It was a smile of joy, a kind of joy Frost had never seen before in his life. His eyes sparkled with gratitude, as if Frost had done something truly special for the man, as if he'd…as if he'd just saved the man. "Thank you, young one…" he breathed out, eyes slowly closing. They didn't open again.

Slowly, Frost reached up to grasp his chest as a warmth spread throughout him. He was horrified, of course he was. Someone had just died in front of him. But the man's last moments caused something to stir in him, when he saw that smile. Somehow, even though he'd died, Frost had saved the man. Frost, for the first time in his life, had saved a life even though they'd died.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Frost covered the man's body in snow, the crimson that stained it now seeming oddly appropriate. He found the largest rock he could find, and placed it over where the man's head lay. It was less than the man deserved, far less, but it would suffice as a grave marker. A grave marker for a man who wanted to be a hero, and gave his life for that cause.

For what felt like hours, but in actuality was only a few minutes, Frost stared at the makeshift grave. He could do nothing else but stare, the warm feeling lingering despite how much he'd tried to banish it. A Schnee didn't show emotion, even in a place where they could remotely be seen. But no matter how he tried, that feeling stayed, and he continued to stare.

One might think the wheels of fate spun out of anyone's control that day, as Frost was completely lost in thought. He tried, he desperately tried to banish any thoughts that arose with that warm feeling. He couldn't let himself show emotion, he couldn't. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that if he allowed any emotion to show right now, he'd change.

Even as the search party found him and pulled him away, Frost stared at the makeshift grave that would forever remain undisturbed. And unbidden, the vision of that man's smile came to his mind, and the warmth spread through his body again.

At that time, a single thought entered his mind. And it was that thought that would control the course of Frost's life.

'I wonder if I could smile like that…'

And so it came to be, on that blood stained mountain…the story of Frost Schnee truly began.