Disclaimer : Regrettably, I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Warnings : Contains spoilers.

Reibashi

Chapter One

Katara hadn't known what to expect. One minute, her idiot brother had them stranded out on the ice. The next, they were rescuing the last airbender from an iceberg.

And things hadn't slowed down from there.

From penguin-sledding, to the Fire Prince's attack on their village, to escaping from his ship, to discovering that Aang was actually the new Avatar - they had been moving non-stop since they first met Aang.

Now, with a moment in the air to relax, she found a determination in her that she hadn't known she possessed. A determination to help Aang at any cost in his battle against the cruelty of the Fire Nation.

While she hoped this path would also lead her to mastering her element, she understood that primary importance went to getting Aang to his own Masters - Gran Gran had told her enough stories of the Avatar when she was younger to impress on Katara the necessity for the Avatar to master all four elements.

But, from what she had seen of the new Avatar, he seemed only to be concerned with having a good time. He couldn't quite comprehend just how imbalanced the world was.

For now, as she watched him explaining animatedly to a bored Sokka the wonders of the Air Temples, she resolved to allow him time to adjust. After all, he'd been in the iceberg for one hundred years. She could't expect an adult, let alone a twelve year old kid, to adapt that quickly.

She just hoped he wouldn't make a habit of distracting himself from the matter at hand.

How could this possibly go wrong? Wren quipped to himself as he examined the Fire Nation outpost. The teen shook his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes as he sized up the two guards at the gate of the compound. Tialing was a decently sized town in the northwestern Earth Kingdom, and the size of the outpost reflected it; wrought iron gate, three story keep, garrison of about 50 or so soldiers. Luckily for the 14 year old soon to be cat burglar, about a quarter of that force would be on patrol in the town, another quarter would be sleeping off the night shift, the third squad of twelve would be currently off duty, leaving only twelve of the Fire Nations "finest" actually guarding the outpost. That just left the captain in charge of the fort in question and the quartermaster, not likely to be of any concern to Wren as long as steered clear of the war room and the kitchens. Neither location was his target anyhow.

The two soldiers at the gate wore standard issue army firebender uniforms, skull faceplate, metal grieves and gauntlets, three pronged helmets, and no visible weapons. Wren knew from experience that the nonbenders wore conical helmets with no visor and a sheet of chain mail to protect the back of their necks. As was the case with most soldiers Wren saw, these two seemed to be carbon copies save for perhaps a few inches in height difference.

Well, no use in stalling further. Wren chastised himself as he rose to his feet and began skirting the edge of the fort, hugging the tree line along the wall. It just went to show how old the fort was, in the newer forts over-eager captains let their men run wild; burning all the flora within a good half mile of their new acquisitions. This fort had stood long enough that the trees had grown back in to a decent size and thickness; one hundred years would do that to the land.

Once Wren had rounded the corner of the square fort, he began to take deep, slow breaths in preparation. Just after the small patrol of three on the top of the wall rounded the other corner, Wren dashed out from his cover in the tree line. Pouring on speed most would consider impossible, Wren covered the gap in seconds. When the thief was about six feet from the wall, he leaped into a graceful arc, carrying him halfway up the wall before he dug his fingers and boots into the tiny crevices in the old masonry. With the ease of long practice and a total lack of vertigo, Wren scampered up the fort's side. Pausing just long enough to listen for approaching footsteps, Wren vaulted onto the narrow walkway.

A quick glance around the fort revealed no trouble. Wren naturally blended into his surroundings with a combination of skill as well as the misty grey tones he favored over the jarring colors that people of the nations felt the need to wear. Honestly- maroon, sapphire blue, jade, emerald green; it was little wonder why very few resort to the more subtle arts of infiltration.

Moving beyond fashion statements, Wren darted around the wall, making sure to keep his head down and his tread soft. This early in the morning no one wanted to be awake, and no one was operating at his or her best either. While a less experienced thief might be tempted by the darkness of night, night scared people. They tended to be wary and jumpy. One didn't want frayed nerves in guards when one was sneaking in; one wanted drowsiness - thus, the morning.

As Wren reached the interior staircase, he spared one more glance at the troops and cataloged what he knew of their positions. Two at the gate, three patrolling the wall, three patrolling the courtyard around the komodo-rhino stables and armory, three most likely patrolling the keep itself, and probably one corporal keeping track of his squad and making sure no one slacked off. Satisfied that the way to the keep's second story window was clear, Wren dashed down the stairs and to the side of the keep. Silently, Wren reached into his pack and pulled out a length of hempen rope tied securely to an iron hook. Winding up with the absolute minimum of movement possible, Wren let the grapnel fly, watching the hook's gentle arc to the window before yanking the rope tight to make sure the hook was secure. After one more glance for approaching soldiers, Wren darted up the rope and to the window.

Wren instantly gave the room a quick once over before hauling the rope up and stowing it. It was a small cramped chamber with a few crossbows on a rack and a bucket of bolts next to the window. The window itself would serve more as a firing position in the case of attack than a simple porthole. Satisfied with no immediate threat presenting itself, Wren padded over to the door at the other end of the room.

The hallways of the fort itself were cramped and lined at regular intervals with torches. Fortunately for Wren, he knew exactly where he was going; this wasn't his first time in a fire nation fort and the layout was always the same. It made it easier for the new recruits and transfers to adjust, or in this case, for the thief to find his goal. Wren eventually reached his target after a few turns to avoid the interior patrol as well as the off duty soldiers on their way from the privy to the barracks or kitchens.

The Fire Nation sure doesn't skimp on security. Wren reflected as he took in the hardened steel door with a wrought iron lock affixed beneath the doorknob. Well if it were easy, what would be the point?

Wren reached into the side pocket of his pack and removed a slim leather bundle. Crouching on the floor, he unrolled it, revealing a set of needles, picks, a tiny saw, a pair of pliers, and a slim handled dagger. Time to get to work. Wren cheerily thought to himself as he carefully selected two of the picks. Truth be told, this was the part Wren had found the hardest to learn. Sneaking was easy - it was fun - lock picking just lacked the adrenaline rush. Fortunately for the teenaged thief, boring didn't mean impossible; it only took a minute and a half to bypass the tumblers and unlock the portal.

Wren eased the door open and padded inside. The Fire Nation storeroom was lined with racks of scrolls and a couple of chests of contraband the soldiers had "acquired," such as what appeared to be a case marked 'cactus juice' - whatever that was. But Wren's target was a tiny chest sitting on a shelf by the opposite wall.

Wren swiftly crossed the room and once again pulled out his lock picks. A few moments of wrestling and the sharp click of victory was heard. Wren allowed himself a smirk, experiencing the massive adrenaline high only a successful job could bring.

With careful movements to enjoy his victory for as long as possible, Wren eased back the lid of the box to reveal…

Coins, mixed copper and silver.

Always nice to have the Fire Nation foot the bill for my traveling expenses. Wren mused as he pulled a small leather pouch off his sash. It makes earning money so much more meaningful.

The thief filled the pouch with a few silver and a handful of copper pieces. Take too much and the garrison would be forced to recollect from the village, and, despite what people may have said about Wren, he wasn't that bad. Plus, the best kind of job was the one no one knew happened. With that in mind, Wren closed and locked the chest and strode out the door just in time to run smack into a tall man in Fire Nation uniform.

Wren quickly did a head count of the guards he had passed - two at the gate, three at the wall, three in the courtyard, three in the corridors, the off duty troop were in the barracks, the corporal should be checking on his men, the quartermaster should be prepping breakfast, the captain…

The captain.

MonkeyFeathers.

Fortunately for Wren, the captain was too stunned to react immediately. Not that the thief blamed him; Wren did cut a strange figure. A boy in his early teens with a mop of shaggy unkempt brown hair flowing every which way, dressed in pale grey tunic and breeches with soft leather boots and a darker grey sash tied crosswise across his chest.

Right before the captain could open his mouth to raise the alarm, Wren lashed out, striking the captain's diaphragm with a brutal palm strike. The captain had just enough time to emit a strangled gurgling sound before he collapsed bonelessly to the floor, gasping for air. Wren took the captains current state of incapacitation to make a break for the exit, trading stealth for speed.

Options, Wren thought to himself. Not the front door, guards coming from that way, the first floor doesn't have any window, too many patrols around the second floor.

Third floor it is.

Wren barreled up the stairs like a hurricane, pounding down the second floor corridor that should take him to the central towers' staircase. Behind him he could hear the yelling of the captain who finally regained his breath and the clatter of metal treads on the staircase as the captain gathered a pursuit.

Suddenly a door on Wren's right was thrown open, and a confused guard with a spear tumbled out. Without stopping, Wren sprinted up to the guard, seamlessly leaping into a flying kick. Wren's momentum brought his foot crashing into the guard's chest with a satisfying crunch. As the guard hit the floor Wren didn't even break stride, trampling over the prone body and sprinting madly up the stairs to the central tower.

Panting, Wren dashed into the middle of the tower and glanced around. The room itself was round, about fifteen feet across with a single shuttered window looking out over the town of Tialing. Desperation lending him speed, Wren removed a knife from his sash and sliced though the wooden latch on the window. The shutter broke open, revealing a three-story drop to the outer wall just as the red-faced captain burst in flanked by one of the patrols.

"Surrender yourself." The captain ground out as the three skull-masked guards lowered into combat stances, arms extended and ready to bend. "There's no where left for you to go."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Wren quipped back and, arms extended out from his sides, allowed himself to fall out of the window.

Wind tore at Wren's body, grabbing at his hair and ruffling his loose tunic and sash. He let out a wild, unconscious yell of sheer adrenaline as he felt every fiber of his body respond with the sheer terror and exhilaration only a free fall can bring. With feral joy singing through his veins, he spread out his arms and legs into an X. As he fell from the sky, the ground seemed to rush towards him, greedy to crush his small form. Two seconds away, one…

With an almost reluctant movement, Wren swung his arms straight towards the ground and the winds responded. With a rush of power, the current flipped the teenager head over heels into a low arc over the outer wall. Wren smirked to himself as he heard the yells of the Fire-Nation soldiers as he flew over their heads. He caught one glimpse of a pike man's shocked expression and wished he could savor this wild moment forever. With the very wind still responding to his will, Wren snapped out his arms stopping his crazy cart wheeling through the air, and with a controlled movement born of years of practice, Wren somersaulted forward once more killing the momentum of his flight and tucking into a roll across the hard packed road.

Before the guards could recover themselves, the airbender was already ducking between the trees on his way to anywhere but here.

Let's see, benefits: around 3 silver and 10 copper in Fire Nation coins and an embarrassed fire nation garrison.

Cost: exposed to said Fire-Nation patrol as an airbender.

"Well, that went well." Wren muttered sarcastically.

"… and may the sun's brilliance illuminate our victories and the volcanoes wrath scorch our enemies." Taka quoted as clipped his ceremonial breastplate over the red silk of his tunic. While he wouldn't consider himself particularly religious, he always felt it paid to keep the spirits happy. As the aforementioned sun beamed into the small window of his barracks room, Taka took a minute to check over his reflection in the mirror next to the window. When it came to the Fire Court there was no such thing as a 'good enough' appearance.

Dark amber eyes stared back at Taka, framed by his pale angular face. His hair had been washed and combed, his ceremonial Kumikusa braid starting just in front of his left ear and extending to the tip of his shoulder plate. Keeping an appraising look leveled at his reflection, Taka adjusted the straps on his slim leather gauntlets and smoothed over the creases in the dark silk of his pants.

"Now to complete the ensemble," Taka muttered as he reached for his daisho on the rack adjacent to the mirror, affixing the longer katana blade to a strap on his back and its shorter brother, the wakizashi, to his waist. A soldier of the Fire Nation had to look the part.

With one final glance to reassure himself, Taka strode out of the barracks, crossing the sun swept courtyard of the Fire Palace, ready to face hypocritical politicians, surly guards, and gossipy servants. As he marched purposefully towards the palace proper, Taka took a passing moment to admire the scenery. While it was the beginning of winter elsewhere with the early frost beginning to set in, this close to the equator the temperatures were always pleasantly warm. The palace gardeners were quite skilled and easily kept thriving bushes of fire orchids and weeping willows to embellish the otherwise dreary path from the barracks to the Palace. The rich scents of the various blossoms provided a pleasant contrast to the stink of politics, General Iroh used to say. No one could appreciate the simple things in life quite as easily and fully as the Dragon of the West. The other soldiers considered musing over the various benefits of flowering plants and tea blends un-masculine, but if it worked for the only man to ever breach the walls of Ba Sing Se, it worked for Taka.

Still contemplating the timeless question of Ginseng vs. Jasmine, Taka brushed past the guards at the door without even a glance at their triple pronged faceguards. When you pass by the same suits of armor every day, the soldiers inside them tend to lose your interest. After eight years of walking this same path, the sentries might as well have been statues.

Once inside the palace proper, Taka cut away from the main hallways in favor of the narrower but far more convenient servants corridors. While they lacked the magnanimous tapestries and lavish plush carpets, there was also a distinct lack of haughty nobles and disdainful looks that Taka found to far outweigh their general blandness in décor.

Jasmine. Taka finally decided after careful deliberation. The delicate floral essence is more uplifting than ginseng's overpoweringly ginger flavor. Satisfied with his answer, Taka paused at the door to the palace kitchens long enough to remove the katana from his back and hang it on the peg next to the door for holding coats in the rainy season. Back when he first started working at the palace, Mistress Genka had thrown a fit over the "blatantly offensive," "crude," and "barbaric" practice of carrying swords within her kitchens. Taka had argued right back of how his "utterly sensible," "artfully designed," and "refined," daisho was inherently necessary to his profession. They had eventually comprised that if he left the katana at the door, he could carry the smaller wakizashi.

Now that he was "presentably civilized," Taka entered the bustling kitchens and commandeered a pot of Jasmine tea, ducking back out of the kitchens as he heard the familiar voice of Mistress Genka begin to tear some poor apprentice a new one about the sheer incompetence they exemplified in the preparation of porridge. Bless her soul, that woman was one in a million.

After retrieving his blade, Taka once more ducked through the servant's corridors with his wonderfully fragrant pot of Jasmine, navigating the passageways with the ease of long practice. A few minutes of traversing the veritable labyrinth of the Fire Palace saw Taka outside the formal double doors of the royal suite. With a casual flick of his free hand, Taka threw the doors open, taking a moment to glance around the room for anything out of the ordinary. Paranoia came with the job.

The search revealed nothing particularly alarming. The sitting room was furnished in the way that only royalty could afford, with magnificent silk draperies across the window viewing the gardens, rows of bookshelves filled with scrolls from every nation, and an ornately carved fireplace. While the last piece was never necessary, most fire benders liked to have some source of flame around.

Taka's gaze came to rest on the room's only occupant, the raven haired girl lounging in one of the rooms plush armchairs, a scroll across her lap as she ran a carefully manicured nail down the fine calligraphy.

"Yojimbo Kejitaka reporting in" Taka said with a flippant salute as he deposited the tea on the room's low table. "Well, Azula, think there are any assassination plots in the making or do I get the day off?"

"Oh, I don't know, Ryuu," replied the Crown Fire Princess, using her childhood nickname for Taka. "Perhaps some imbecilic politician may brighten our day with something completely original." She sighed dramatically, turning her head slowly to look at her bodyguard with piercing gold eyes. "I suppose that would be too much to ask for."

"Well," Ryuu began, preparing two cups of tea, "since you've been on the Court, most seem to have become quite complacent."

"Probably due to your murderous expressions." Taking the proffered cup of tea, Azula sipped thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "Jasmine?"

Ryuu shrugged in response.

She shook her head. "Taking cues from Uncle again, are we?"

"He is a great man," Ryuu acknowledged casually. Azula knew he wouldn't address the subject any further; it was touchy, to say the least, for anyone in the Royal Family.

Much like her brother.

Ignoring that dangerous train of thought, Azula rolled up the scroll on her lap and set it on the table. Standing up, she looked to him. "What are our plans for today, dear Ryuu?"

As they left the room and walked down the ornate corridors, he gave a quick sketch of the day. "I believe the Fire Lord"- Ryuu was always very careful not to be disrespectful, keeping his tone casually neutral, but whenever he said the title, it didn't have the reverent ring of other Fire Nations citizens that Azula had come to recognize - "has called a short War session for this morning addressing another siege."

"Excellent. Next." Azula replied tersely. Although she tended to be relaxed around Ryuu, Azula did not fool around when they began talk of business as part of the responsibility of a ruler.

"After that, I believe a couple of the noble's daughters have organized a luncheon with you in the North Garden."

Only a few years back, Azula would never have wasted her time with such trivial matters; however, she now understood the importance of popularity amongst the nobles and how such standing could affect her political career. "Who, may I ask, will I be entertaining?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Princess. But I hear they're two of the most important in the Court at this time." Ryuu didn't seem worried about security issues - which was actually quite odd for him, he always appeared at least a small bit paranoid - so Azula resolved not to prod the subject further. Though she did determine to find out who organized this without her consent.

"After the luncheon?" Azula moved on, knowing they were close to reaching her father's throne room.

"Well, we had scheduled a training session; however, there was a conflict of interest, and they canceled on us." Ryuu explained regretfully.

"How rude. Who could possibly be more important to train than the Crown Princess," she huffed in her composed manner.

Ryuu struggled to hide a snicker beside her.

She looked at him sharply, "What?"

He smirked. "Someone's feeling pretentious today."

Before she could reply, they had turned the corner to the throne room, and all semblance of friendship between them dispersed.

As they walked regally to the great throne room doors, Ryuu a step behind her, the servants and lesser nobles waiting outside bowed to her in the customary way she had come to ignore.

Of course, no matter what she claimed, Ryuu would say that she enjoyed it. And maybe he was right.

Entering the throne room, Azula saw that they had arrived at the perfect time: the last General settled into his seat as they strode past the war table, making them the last to kow-tow to her father and take their seats - well, her seat; Ryuu, unfortunately, was forced to stand - leaving their commanding presence fresh in everyone's mind.

Without further ado, her father's smokey yet crisp voice rang out from behind the fire curtain. "Gentlemen. I trust you are all doing well." Murmurs of agreement spread among the seated Generals. His silhouette turned toward where she sat. "And you, Princess Azula?"

Pleasantries. Interesting. The Fire Lord did not usually bother with small talk. "I am quite well, Father." She knew her answer was not the point of his asking; nevertheless, she made a point to answer as if it was without going into detail.

"Excellent! Then let us move into the topic of discussion for the day." The Fire Lord looked to Choizu. "I understand you would like to offer yet another siege plan, General Choizu?"

Chuckles echoed from the other Generals, and Choizu seemed to be taken aback by the Fire Lord's playful tone. Indeed, everyone seemed to be surprised; however, most had the grace to accept the reprieve from the Fire Lord's usual demeanor.

"Uh- Of course, my Lord!" One of the Generals passed Choizu the croupier stick, which he accepted gratefully. "If you would all please look to Suin, the mining town in the Northern Earth Kingdom. Now, in order to test the viability of Commander Zahn's… program… I have devised a suitable plan of engagement. Due to the high populace of Fire Nation citizens as a result of its location on the edge of the colonies, Suin is a prime candidate for assimilation. As an added bonus, it possesses high quantities of iron and coal ore. These factors altogether make Suin an ideal resupply station for our Northern armies, as well as a potential springboard for any future confrontations with the Northern Water Tribe."

Rolling her eyes felt right at this point, but she refrained, betting to herself that Ryuu was wondering when in Agni's name Choizu would shut his gob.

Finally wrapping up a long-winded explanation of the actual invasion, Choizu finished with a bow and sat down.

"Thank you, General." The Fire Lord began, and Azula thought she heard a collective sigh of relief with the end of Choizu's monologue. "When we meet again in three days time, you will have my decision. Before we adjourn, I would like to notify you of the disturbing message sent from Commander Zhao of the Southern Port. It seems the Avatar may have resurfaced." The silence in the room was palpable. "Please alert your men so that we may continue to be informed of his whereabouts."

General Faia objected, "But, My Lord-"

"Rest assured, General," The Fire Lord interrupted as the flame wall jumped higher. "When there is substantial evidence that the Avatar has, indeed, returned and does, in fact, pose a threat to our regime, we will take action. However, until that time, we will continue as we have." General Faia looked petrified as he realized that he had impulsively spoken out against the Fire Lord, and Azula recognized the look as the one on Prince's face as he realized whom he would duel. "Gentlemen," the Fire Lord spoke, catching her attention. "You are dismissed."

As each bowed to the Fire Lord and exited, Azula reflected that twice today she has been reminded of Zuko. Ryuu would tell her she was going soft. (poking holes in ego)

Marching back down the corridor to her rooms, Ryuu let out a pent up sigh. "Once again Choizu demonstrated his renowned ability to use as many words as possible without actually saying anything."

Azula shook her head in contempt. "He's worse than General Fong," she replied, referring to the grandiose and generally disliked Earth Kingdom General. After a slight pause, she asked, "Any theories on the small talk?"

"Small talk is usually used as a ploy to gain favor by putting on the air of concern for the other party's well-being," Ryuu responded swiftly, indicating that he had been asking himself the same question since, most likely, the beginning of the War Meeting, "but the Fire Lord doesn't actually need to gain favor." This was not a statement on the Fire Lord's personableness; more on his ability to inspire fear. "Unless he suspects someone with equal claim to the thrown plans to challenge him."

Azula sighed. Ryuu had only supported her theory.

Without saying another word, they entered her room, and she walked into the bed chamber to her wardrobe, pulling out the lighter-weight silk appropriate for garden luncheons; she would not wear her customary leathers in the presence of any ladies of the court just as she would not wear her kimonos in the presence of the generals - she knew how to play to her audience.

"Alright, Ryuu," She began dramatically as she exited into the tea room of her quarters. "To the gardens for another boring afternoon."

Ryuu smirked mischievously but said nothing, leading the way, and Azula, suspecting that he had planned something, felt a little disappointed that he had not confided in her. But she ignored that sentiment.

Arriving in the North Gardens, Azula noticed the familiar plaited hair and customary shade of pink. "Ty-Lee?" The girl spun around gracefully and ran over to her, smiling widely.

"Azula! It's so good to see you!" She hugged her forcefully, reminding Azula that, while not exactly a noble profession, Ty-Lee's time as a circus performer had granted her a rare amount of physical strength for a non-bender.

Releasing her, Azula smiled as well, adding a note of puzzlement to her expression. "I heard you were still on tour with your circus?"

"Well I was, but then we received letters from Ryuu asking us for a favor, and of course we couldn't turn him down!" Ty-Lee looked to Ryuu, her smile still occupying most of her face. "Hello, by the way!"

Ryuu crossed to her, giving her a quick hug as well. "Hello, Ty-Lee."

Azula gave her another puzzled look. "'We'?"

"Well, hello to you, too."

Azula heard the equally-familiar drone from behind her. "Mai?"

"The one and only." Mai remarked sarcastically, but with a contradictory half-smile on her face, crossing to hug Azula.

"Why are you both here?" Azula asked, happy and confused. Obviously Ryuu had arranged this, but she still did not understand why. Not that she was complaining.

Instead of an answer, she received a giggle from Ty-Lee, an amused smile from Ryuu, and a classic eye-roll from Mai.

Finally, Ryuu seeing that she still had not caught on, he walked over to her, grabbed her hand, and escorted her over to where they had set out their lunch. Sitting her down, he opened a small box that sat in the middle, revealing her favorite pastry with a candle stuck directly in the middle, lighting it himself. "Happy Birthday, Azula."

Ah. Her birthday.

Miku sprawled across the countertop. Naira decided that if she were an animal, she would probably be doing the same thing. The tavern had not received a customer in hours and today was abnormally hot. Try as she might to escape its evil grasp, boredom overtook Naira. They only thing available for her to do was to sit and listen to herself think, which was not a way she enjoyed occupying her time. Snapping back into rational thought and realizing that it probably was not the best idea to have a lynx-fox lazing about on the bar countertop, Naira prodded Miku. What would everybody think of her, letting an animal sleep where people ate? Annoyed by such an abrupt awakening, Miku skulked out of the doorway - just in time to be tripped over by a new customer.

Clearly taking in everything, this new customer was walking obnoxiously slow. Naira noted how this woman didn't carry much for being a traveler. The robes that she wore looked unnatural—green was clearly not her color.

As the variety of clothing available to those in the earth kingdom was limited, those who didn't look good in "earthy" tones were out of luck. Naira knew the feeling of not looking good in earth tones - it an aspect that she hated about herself. It seemed like everyone else in the village looked amazing in greens and browns; concurrently, Naira felt like these clothes revealed her more unfortunate features.

With small facial features and porcelain skin, greens and browns only made her stark white skin stand out even more - not to mention, they also managed to clash with her jet black hair in the worst way. Meanwhile, the majority of the population was tan, strong jawed and full lipped, and they looked great in the clothing provided to them. When she was younger, Naira was harassed for looking different. Now she was never left alone by the men in her village. While most of the women in her village fought to stand out from the crowd, Naira wanted only to blend in and not be judged her by her external appearances.

"Ahem." The costumer was now at the counter.

"Yes?" Naira made a mental note to work on her concentration skills.

"May I speak with Master Piandoa?"

Confused by her inquiry, Naira shot her a look, and maybe with a bit more attitude than she should have, said "And why would you need to talk to him?"

Raising her eyebrows, the customer sweetly cooed back, "That business is between him and me."

While Naira was amiable in most situations, she did hate when people lied. Although she may not have lied directly, she clearly wasn't revealing the entire story, which Naira considered technically lying by omission. And Naira had a horrible feeling about this woman. Her tone of voice didn't sit well with Naira. Strangely, she was blatantly rude to this customer, yet the woman simply smiled, like a mother to her newly born child, almost patronizing.

Quickly justifying what she was about to do, Naira shot back, "I am Master Piandoa's personal assistant; I know the same information he does. If you leave your message with me, I will relay the information to him." Naira was not a personal assistant to Master Piandoa, and there was no way that he would approve of her lying to anybody (including people she did not trust). But Naira felt a strange obsession with understanding why this woman would need to lie to her, and she would do whatever necessary to obtain that information.

Just as the woman opened her mouth to respond, Piandoa walked through the doorway. Naira prayed that he hadn't heard what she just said.

"Good Afternoon, Naira. Azru, would you please follow me?" Master Piandoa did not chastise Naira, so it was safe to assume he had not heard her most recent lie - phew. With that, the customer, Azru, wordlessly picked up her few belongings and trailed behind Piandoa.

A voice came from the stairwell. "Well, well, well…" A handsome boy emerged from the shadows of the stairway. "I didn't know you were promoted. Congratulations." Reading the look on Naira's face, he continued. "Oh, so you weren't promoted? What would Master Piandoa think - if his perfect child were lying to a friend of his?" His mocking tone was almost enough for Naira to hit him - she suppressed the urge.

Taking a few calculated breaths, she responded "What do you want, Cashta?"

Stretching his arms above his head, he nonchalantly explained, "We both know lying isn't very becoming of a lady. Maybe I should tell Daddy so that he can make sure you don't do it again." Naira's eyes widened, and he adopted a coddling tone. "Well I don't have to tell him, but someone does still need to be punished." Obviously deciding to take matters of Naira's punishment into his own hands, he continued. "What shall I do? Mmm, I'll have to think about that one." He paused and, after a tense moment, asked, "What is something that Naira hates?" Cashta swiveled over the counter to where she was, casually sipping a mug of ale. "Dishes? No. Laundry? No, that's not good enough. Hmm?" He put the mug down, and strutted over to Naira. He soon had one hand on her shoulder and the other caressing her cheek. Naira tried to wiggle away, but his grip on her shoulder was too strong. Cashta continued in a soft tone, as if he were actually talking to somebody he loved. "What do you hate Naira?"

It slipped out before she could control herself: "You."

As if he expected her reply, he moved both his hands to Naira's face and smiled. "Perfect, it's a date! Meet me here at five; I'll take over the tavern for now. Go take a bath because, well, you smell. Also, wear something nice, otherwise I might consider telling Piandoa about your little incident." Releasing Naira, he walked over to the counter and laid down on it to stretch his back. That animal should get off the countertop, Naira thought, storming off to her room.

"…and may the moon's light bathe our victories, and the ocean's wrath our enemies," Ice recited to the small shrine of Tui and La every warrior kept in his dormitory. When you accept the lifestyle as dangerous as a warrior of the tribe, you try to keep the spirits happy. Not that the spirits had ever helped Ice out - more the opposite - but he figured that there would be no benefit if he stopped now.

Requests for spiritual assistance completed, the warrior rose and began preparing for the day. Hair had to be washed and braided, weapons checked for any hints of rust, sleeping furs straightened, stubble removed with the back edge of his kukri, and perhaps most importantly, Wolf fed.

Most warriors - most humans in general - would balk at the idea of sharing a room with a 500kg panther-wolf that had teeth the size of spearheads and claws that could rend a tiger-seal's back with one swipe, but it was either that or have Wolf in the kennels with the other hunting dogs, which Lyka flat out refused to let happen. As it was with most of their arguments, Ice got in three sentences of actual contentions ("He might eat me-" Does that mean you're scared? "He will probably smell-" Like you don't. "It's not traditional-" Since when does that matter?) before he caved. Later that day, he was bunking with a midnight pelted canine/feline hybrid the size of a komodo-rhino.

Truth be told, Ice didn't mind it so much. Wolf was well-trained and made good company. Thanks to the leopard-wolf, Ice got his own igloo in the Warrior's Quarter of the city. Akuma, the alpha or leader of the Water Tribe's warrior faction, said it was for spatial reasons, but Ice knew that was a load of yak-elk crap - no other warrior wanted to bunk with both a beast that could go claw to claw with a polar bear-dog as well as the spirit-touched war orphan.

Honestly, this was why Ice preferred Wolf to most other humans - he didn't care about who Ice was, as long as Ice fed him and took him for walks. Animals didn't see pasts; it didn't matter to them where you came from or how you didn't seem to fit - they would still be there to curl up next to the fire with. No, Ice was not sorry he lived with Wolf, but like hell he would tell Lyka that.

With Wolf tearing away at a sizable hunk of tiger-seal, Ice donned his warrior's garb, which consisted of a boiled leather dyed blue hauberk over a yak-elk fur undershirt, breeches sewed from cured polar bear-dog pelts, also dyed blue, and toughened leather boots (at least these were brown). Leather shin-guards and bracers completed the ensemble, along with a baldric slung across his shoulders with his trademark knife, the curved heavy bladed kukri, sheathed and comfortably resting against the small of his back. The final piece of gear broke with the rest of the uniform as it was purely decorative; a spun mantle of yak-elk fur covering Ice's upper chest and back, adorned with a full moon motif flanked on either side by howling wolves.

Fully dressed, Ice scratched Wolf behind his ears and left the igloo. The Northern Water Tribe was a sight to behold; buildings cleverly terraced out of the ice and canals meandering throughout, flowing away from the central palace. Everywhere one looked, the sparkling, almost ethereal, city was teeming with activity, even this early in the morning. The fisherman kissed their wives goodbye and filled their skiffs with nets as the warriors began their morning drills. Ice took a moment to reflect on what it was like to just be one of the pack. Back then, before he got the mark on his right hand, before he met Lyka, before Tokado died, when all there was to life was drilling and bending.

Ice was realistic enough to acknowledge that life was not all sunshine and smiles even then - no one really accepts an orphan in the Water Tribe. In a society so built around family and inheritance, if you don't have one, you barely qualify as a citizen. It had been quite the scandal when Ice first started bending. Benders were always from the most prominent of families; they were blessed by the very spirits and were simply born superior. They did not live impoverished in the ever-damp slums and perpetual neglect of the orphans compound. No, Water Tribe orphans were not thought well of; at least after the incident people started whispering about him for things he had actually done and not his mysterious lack of known parents.

Even amongst the orphans, Ice was unique. His face had sharper lines than most, and his hair was darker, not to mention his skin was a few shades too pale. He was still Water Tribe, no one could argue that, but there was just enough of a foreign hint to him to earn those extra glares.

Ice shook himself out of his well of self-pity and began his ascent towards the Moon Quarter and the palace. As he passed the training ground, he saw Akuma breaking in the new batch of warriors. The alpha spared a terse nod for Ice as he passed. Akuma reserved a gruff sort of mentor's pride for the young warrior, which made sense as Akuma trained Ice personally before he had rose fully in rank. Ice nodded back; Akuma had accepted him while most of the tribe shunned him for his past as well as his connection to the mysterious Lyka.

Well, thought Ice wryly, that's one thing I have got going for me, no matter how much of a pariah I become, I will never be as bad off as her.While Ice was shunned for his past, Lyka was shunned for existing. Of course no one could flat out say that, but they could sure as hell show it. While the moon had blessed her sister, it appeared to all as if the spirits had forsaken Lyka. Her birth, they say, occurred during a full lunar eclipse and resulted in the death of her mother. No matter how you slice it, there was something off about the girl; some say it was her eyes, so dark brown that people say a person could drown if you stared long enough into them. Not that Ice would know; life was complicated enough without him having to explain to a girl how he was attempting to drown in her eyes.

Lyka's attitude didn't help her case at all, Ice mused to himself as he crossed the water bending arena of the Moon Quarter. She's so frosted unstable that even if you wanted to get to know her, she would chew you up and spit you out within the first three minutes. It's not really that she's an evil person; she just loves a good fight too much for her own good. Tui and La if it hadn't been my job to hang around her, I doubt we ever would have gotten past our initial fighting.

Ice ascended the frozen steps to the palace and passed between the two guards at the door. They knew not to stop him by now, even if they hadn't seen the crescent moon of a royal warrior tattooed on his check. Ice wove his way through the frozen halls lined with the pelts of great animals long ago hunted, treading the familiar path to Lyka's chamber. Bracing himself - Lyka was always the worst in the morning - Ice pushed his way past the pelt covering the entrance.

Lyka was currently reading her way through a scroll next to the room's hearth. She was petite and dark skinned, as were most Water Tribe women. Currently her long brown hair was hanging down her back in a wavy mussed heap, deep side part obscuring the new-moon tattoo on her forehead. She had more rounded, softer facial features that may have made her look like the demure maiden her father wished she was, if it was not for the aforementioned dark, possibly death-by-drowning eyes that totally shattered the illusion of docility. Today she was dressed in her customary plain blue tunic over her dark grey undershirt and leggings paired with her penguin seal boots.

Ice entered the room and knelt on the fur carpet, speaking the traditional greeting of a bodyguard to his lady: "May the moon grace you, my Princess."

"How many times have I asked you not to do that?" Lyka murmured to her crouching guard, finishing the scroll in her hand.

Standing up, Ice replied, "Protocol, Princess. It's tradition."

"Nothing about either of us is traditional." She said sharply, marching over her shelf overflowing with worn old scrolls that signified her as an avid reader. Hearing a sigh from behind her, she softened. "How's Wolf today?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Considering you haven't been to see him in over a week, I would say he is doing splendidly," Ice hinted at that fact that Wolf was technically hers

She turned to him, making a mental note that Ice had just said much more than he did normally when she received grunts and occasional one word answers. "Let's go see him now!" And promptly exited the room without bothering to pick up a parka on the way out. The cold never seemed to affect her the way it did everyone else.

Passing through the palace door, she continued her stroll without waiting for Ice to catch up. Even if he didn't know where she was going, he always managed to find her. They had both learned that the hard way.

Arriving and entering Ice's quarters, Wolf pounced on her, pinning her to the ground and giving her a long, hard stare, which she took to mean, Where have you been for the past week, and why haven't you come to see me?

Laughing, she rubbed his face. "I'm sorry I haven't been over, Wolf! Father's had me doing all kinds of stupid Princess duties. But as a treat, you can come to train with me today, alright?"

Understanding not her words but her tone of voice, Wolf let her up just in time for Ice to walk in and have the same thing happen to him.

Watching Ice interact with Wolf, she noticed the change in his usually terse demeanor. Not-quite-a-smile crossed his lips, and she knew - just as she knew every time she was around Ice and Wolf together - that she was seeing a completely different side of her guard. Of a lean build, his face was more angular than most water tribe men, hinting at his already questionable past. Though at the moment his jet black hair was messed about due to Wolf's crazed snuffling in an attempt to locate food, it was usually just-above shoulder length with a couple of braids in it to keep his piecey bangs out of his startling grey-blue eyes. Though most were intimidated by his numerous tattoos that told of a high rank and unmatched combat skill, she always found herself captured by his eyes - but she was very careful not to stare.

Just as Ice stood, finally able to get Wolf to move, a palace guard entered, kneeling in front of her in the customary way she hated so well. "Princess Lyka!" She made the motion for him to stand. "Your father commands your return to the palace immediately!"

Lyka clenched her jaw. Nothing put her in a fouler mood than being commanded to do something. Curling her fingers into a fist, she felt a sharp pain from where her nails dug into her palm. Instead of taking calming breaths, which she found only aided her chi in escaping, she exhaled once and held her breath.

Recognizing this as a sign she was close to losing her temper, Ice stepped between them. "Acknowledged."

Opening his mouth to argue, the guard obviously thought better of it - whether from fear of her or Ice, she did not know - and, bowing, departed.

Turning back to her, Ice gave her the do-you-need-to-break-something look.

Still holding her breath, she gave a small shake of her head. Finally inhaling, she felt a shiver go through her body as she released the pent up chi, being careful not to let it affect the ice beneath her. Water bending under control, she spoke through gritted teeth. "How dare he? Shunning me half the time and ordering me around the other half? He may be the Chief, but this kind of treatment is usually reserved for exiles!" Desperation crept into her voice. "And did you see the way the guard looked at me? Everyone looks at me like that! Even Yue does sometimes! I catch her, when she thinks I'm not looking! And the worst part is her looks are mixed with pity!" Out of words to express herself, she plopped down where she was standing, laying out flat on the ice. Wolf, sensing something was wrong, padded over and laid his head on her stomach, peering down at her through his big blue eyes.

Walking over from where he had been standing, Ice sat down on her other side, looking at her through his cold blue eyes. After a long moment, he put his hand on her shoulder, tilting his head at her to indicate she had pouted long enough.

With a sigh, Lyka gripped the bridge of her nose to prevent the coming headache. She usually didn't let her emotions grip her so violently. "I suppose we have to go see him now."

A nod.

"Fine," Lyka consented. "But I'm bringing Wolf."

A shrug.

"I summoned you over ten minutes ago." Chief Arnook looked disdainfully at Lyka, completely ignoring the royal guard and leopard-wolf who entered with her.

"I am well aware."

Arnook's nostrils flared before he attempted to control his own temper, a trait which Lyka noted with disgust that she possessed as well. "In any case, I have called you here for a reason."

"I was under the impression that you brought me here to discuss the tides," Lyka said sarcastically.

"Hush, frosted girl!" He said forcefully, losing part of his hard-won control, which seemed to always be on the edge of failing when he was around her. "You have been summoned to discuss the prospect of an arranged marriage. Against all odds, a strong line has offered their eldest son to tie our families together."

"….What."

"Hahn!" Arnook called to one side of the room, beckoning a young man through a shadowed doorway.

Walking through the door with blatant arrogance, Hahn entered. He was an average height and obviously over fond of his muscles, keeping them flexed as he sauntered over for what was apparently her benefit. He had the same dark skin and brown hair as the rest of the tribe, and even his face was forgettable. She disliked him on sight, and a loud growl from Wolf told her he agreed.

"Princess Lyka! It is my honor to be your chosen fiancé!" And with that, he knelt and presented her with a crudely carved engagement necklace. His attempt at some kind of animal-moon combo made her laugh.

"What is that, a bear? You're going to have to do much better than that." Turning away from him, she addressed her father. "Where did you find this kid, an iceberg?" Spinning on her heel, Lyka exited the room followed closely by Ice and Wolf, hearing with satisfaction an exclamation of outrage from her father.

Lyka threw herself onto her pile of furs, thoroughly exhausted from the excess of contact with her father for one day.

"Do you still plan to train today, Princess?" Ice asked in his monotonous manner.

Lyka shook her head. "The shamans" - she rolled her eyes at those frosted idiots - "predicted a blizzard, and we would not make it back in time to avoid it."

Ice gave an affirmative grunt. "Then if you are going to stay in your room for the rest of the night, I plan to get in some sparring before dark." Lyka nodded her assent. He ruffled Wolf's huff, shrugging, silently offering to leave Wolf with her. He meant to provide her some comfort from Wolf, but she knew that he did so with disappointment, as he secretly enjoyed rooming with the beast - though he pretended otherwise. So she shook her head, not willing to take away Ice's comfort for something as stupid as wanting some herself. Bowing to her - it's tradition, she told herself unhappily - he left, taking the panther-wolf with him.

A / N : Thank you for reading & please let me know what you think! All reviews and constructive critiquing are welcome.