Hey, all! First off, a very hard and drastic change has been made in my writing process. There are pros and cons to what I've chosen to do, but I'll leave it at this: I will now try my very best to update on a regular schedule. I'm currently going through a really busy time in my life, so I'm not going up straight-up promise weekly updates again, but I will certainly do my best to upkeep a biweekly schedule until further notice. Thank you all for your patience.

Anonymous7: Zane does seem different, huh? I'm gonna let him explain himself in a future update. :) Thanks for your review!

Apple and Evergreen

"I still don't see how it would be possible," Saer said from his position between the twins' horses. "I mean, how in Mena's name could different fruits grow on the same tree?"

"It's pretty simple, actually," Akins said. "And it comes with a number of advantages. For example, the rare aerel' cherry trees? They only grow in the most temperate areas in the South. But when you graft the aeriel' into its hardier cousin, the standard dark cherry…"

"You kids are pulling my leg," Saer said.

"No," Li said. "We have several trees in the North that now grow the aeriel's. You should come by next harvest season; we can show you!"

"I absolutely will," Saer said stoutly. "My Host… And this method works for all fruit trees?"

"We've had a few unsuccessful graftings over the years," Akins said. "It's an imperfect science because…"

The boy rambled on, but Peran tuned him out, sighing.

"It's starting to get dark," Kolin said, turning on his horse to face Peran. "We should probably find shelter for the night, High General."

Peran looked at the sky. Bleak and overcast, a chill wind was beginning to hiss through the leafless trees that hung over the narrow road.

Kolin was right. They had only an hour at best until dark. And, with the way the wind was beginning to hiss through the trees, Peran knew it was a bad idea to camp outside. He sensed a storm fast approaching.

It seemed as though this meandering road was doing its best to go through every ravine, over every hill, and through every possible river. The tedious speed at which they traveled infuriated Peran. But it wasn't like they had much of a choice: if they went along the main roads then the King's High General, Derek, would likely find them again. And then, as Derek had promised, they would be arrested, tried, and executed as rebels. A calamitous end to a calamitous story.

But, then again, the High General would have to catch us first, Peran thought disdainfully. And I have no intention of letting him catch us.

Still, it was best to be safe. And since they had not crossed paths with Vara- and the stablehand Derek had mentioned during their short encounter at the Blue Cat yesterday afternoon- on the main road, there was a good chance that she had fled the King along a back road.

And so, Peran endured their slow pace, knowing that at ever shop, inn, or house they visited, they were that much closer to finding their kidnapped girl.

The poor child, Peran thought, not for the first time. He'd felt partially responsible for Vara's safety while at Sheshin Keep. And knowing that it was his fault she was gone…

Well, Peran was not one to ignore the steady blaze of outrage deep in his soul. Outrage at himself. At Josi.

But mostly at the King, who was the reason all these troubles had reached Peran's doorstep in the first place.

"…But it doesn't matter if you were to graft it into an evergreen," Akins loudly interrupted Peran's thoughts. "Peaches don't grow in the wintertime!"

"How about kakis?"

"No, Saer."

"Apples?"

Laughter from both twins.

"No, Saer."

Kolin raised an amused eyebrow at Peran. The High General huffed and turned away. He would have no part in this absurdity.

"I don't know," Kolin called back. "I'd kind of like to see what would happen if you grafted an apple into an evergreen. Would it make the apple taste like pine?"

"Oooh," Li said. "I kind of like the taste of pine."

"Those two flavors would go together nicely," Saer agreed.

"But it wouldn't work!" Akins exclaimed. "If you like the flavors so much, why don't you make a pie instead?"

"I've never been good at making pies," Saer sighed. "Now, tarts, on the other hand…"

"You make tarts?" Kolin chuckled.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" Saer asked defensively. "Li! Stop snickering at me, it's not that funny… Is it?"

"Absolutely," Li chortled.

"But I could do it!" Saer insisted. "Yeah! I could harvest the spruce tips in the springtime and boil them, kind of like tea. And then I could use that to make a sauce with poi'ke berries and-"

A strong gust of wind shrieked through the trees, hitting them head-on. Saer quieted for a moment as they all pulled their cloaks more tightly around themselves. Peran's horse, Demia, shook her mane in displeasure, and Clouse turned his head, to protect himself from both the flying shards of ice and Demia's whipping mane.

Eventually the wind settled down, and there was quiet for a moment. Then Akins sniggered.

"Apple pine tart," he said, and Li joined him in laughter.

"Hur, hur, hur," Saer laughed sardonically. "Laugh all you want. It'll taste delicious."

"No, no!" Li exclaimed. "Don't get me wrong, I'd eat it!"

"Would you, now?" Akins snorted. "Yuck. No offense, Saer. But I think I'll stick to traditional berry tarts."

"Come on, you'd like it," Saer said.

"Trees are for climbing, not eating."

"Oh, really?" Li challenged. "Hmm. So you'd rather climb that tree than eat this tart?"

"Okay, first of all, you're talking as if the tart has already been made. And second…" A pause. Peran turned to see Akins sizing up the tree in question: a sprawling, thick-limbed beech tree that stretched more than sixty feet into the air.

"Yes," Akins decided at last. "I would much rather climb that tree than eat a tree tart."

"Would you?"

"Yep."

"Well, let's see it, then!"

Before Peran could offer a word of objection Akins had dismounted and tossed his reins to his sister.

Speechless, they all watched as Akins jogged to the tree in question and, without pausing for even a moment, leapt into its branches and began to climb.

Moon-cursed fool! Peran thought, and shook himself from his shock. "Soldier! Return to your-"

"He's quite the climber," Kolin cut him off, and Peran whirled in his saddle to glare at the man. Kolin shrugged. "I think you should let them have a bit of fun, High General. Keep up morale. We've been traveling for days, and we're all getting bored."

Morale? Peran wanted to snap. Do you think I care one copper about the morale of these children while Vara is-

"Did you say something, High General?" Akins called down from his perch. He was already about twenty feet up, gripping a branch above his head to balance himself, one leg swinging leisurely over open air.

Peran's face grew hot with annoyance. He clenched his jaw, glaring up at the young man.

Kolin raised a questioning eyebrow.

"High General?" Akins called again.

Peran exhaled sharply, looking away from Kolin. "No," he shouted up the tree. "But hurry it along, would you? We don't have all night."

"Yessir." Akins continued climbing.

He was clearly an experienced climber, Peran begrudgingly admitted. The strength, agility, and endurance needed for such a taxing activity would serve a man well in battle. Perhaps he had underestimated the power of this lanky youth.

"I can't believe he's actually doing it," Saer said to Li. "If he gets hurt, I'm going to feel really bad."

"Naw," Li said. "He does this all the time. He'll be fine." A beat of silence as they watched Akins swing down to a lower limb so that he could reach a better cluster of branches to climb up from. "Though, he doesn't usually climb this recklessly. I think having an audience made him a bit…cocky."

"I'll say," Kolin muttered, chuckling. "Look at him go! I'd be scared if I wasn't so impressed."

Saer murmured in agreement.

Before long, Akins- now a small figure mostly hidden by frosty branches- had reached the top.

"Are you done yet?" Peran called. Another icy gust of wind rushed through the forest, and Peran drew a mask over his face.

"Y-yeah!" Akins called back when the wind subdued, voice distant and breathless. "Hey! I see something from up here! A house?"

"Excellent," Kolin said to Peran. "We can have shelter from this nasty wind soon, then."

"I'm coming down now!" Akins shouted. "And Li-"

There was a sharp snapping sound, and Akins fell head-first, breaking branches as he plummeted, arms flailing.

"Akins!" Li exclaimed.

Akins caught himself after a dozen or so feet, hugging a thick branch, both legs dangling, gasping for air. Broken limbs and twigs fell into the snow at the foot of the tree.

"You all right?" Saer called as Li leapt from her horse and began climbing the tree to rescue her brother.

"A-ahhh," Akins grunted in reply, and heaved himself onto the limb. "Ow…"

"Are you injured?" Peran asked.

"I…I don't know," Akins answered, voice strained.

It took even less time for Li to climb than Akins. She quickly reached him, and the pair spoke in hushed tones. Akins had one arm wrapped around his ribs.

"What's going on?" Peran shouted.

"I think he hurt his chest," Li answered. "We're coming down."

"Be careful," Kolin warned.

Li spoke again to Akins. He nodded, and slowly, painfully slid down from his limb to where Li stood, one arm outstretched to steady him. The branch bent under their combined weight, but did not break. Li climbed down to another branch and looked up. Akins followed her lead; his ragged gasps could be heard even from a distance.

The twins descended slowly but steadily in this way until at last they reached the bottom. Li's boots sank into the snow, and she watched anxiously as her brother descended the last few feet to the ground, where he collapsed.

"Stay with the horses, Saer," Peran ordered, and dismounted, rushing to Li's side.

Akins looked terrible: a long cut poured blood down his cheek, and a rip in the shoulder of his shirt showed bloody skin. He tried to sit up, and Li helped him.

"I don't think anything's broken," Li said before Peran could ask. "He's just bruised."

"Well, serves you right," Peran said. "What were you thinking, pulling such a foolhardy stunt?"

"I…I'm sorry, High General," Akins said, grimacing as he touched his chest. "Aahhh… I think I bruised a rib. Stupid branch, just had to break."

"Very rude of it," Li agreed.

Sighing, Peran quickly examined Akins' shoulder wound. It was just a scratch, fortunately, and the bleeding had already mostly stopped.

"Where is that house you mentioned?" Peran asked. "Perhaps we can stop there for the night and get you some help."

Akins pointed up the road. "There's a smaller…ow…a path to the left up ahead. The house is only a little ways down that."

"Good," Peran said. "Li, help me get him on his horse. Let's-"

There was yet another blast of wind. They waited for it to pass them by, hoods pulled low over their faces.

It took much longer for this gust to end than the previous ones, and when it did, Peran looked up at the sky, concerned, as thin flakes of snow began to flutter down from the clouds.

"This weather is turning sour faster than I like," Peran said. "Let's hurry; perhaps we can make it to this house before things get too much worse…"

Misako found Driniah in Kai's bedroom.

The Southern Lady sat at her son's cluttered desk, staring bleakly at a stack of parchment in her hands, illuminated by the crackling fireplace in the wall on her left. Outside, in the dead of night, the wind roared.

"Hey," Misako said, carefully pushing aside piles of papers, ink bottles, and other odds and ends to make room for a porcelain cup. "I made you some tea. Are you all right?"

Driniah blinked slowly, attention fixed on the top sheet of paper in her stack. Upon closer examination Misako saw that it was a drawing of a bird. A nuthatch, clinging with tiny feet to the bark of a beautifully textured tree. Narrow head inclined toward Misako, it stared out of the page with dark, perky, and curious eyes.

Misako glanced back at the desk. There was no order to the papers scattered across its surface: a charcoal drawing of trees growing beside a narrow, bubbling river; whole pages crammed with notes written in long, graceful script; a colorful painting of a busy street lit by a bright noonday sun. Misako lifted the corner of a painting to see what lay beneath. Her throat tightened.

A sketch of Nya seated on a bench in the garden behind Sheshin Keep. With one leg swung over the other beneath her flowing skirts, ebony hair tugged about by a gentle breeze, she talked animatedly to a small black bird perched on the bench.

"Did Kai draw these?" Misako asked. "They're beautiful. I didn't know he was an artist."

"Kaytake always considered the arts to be a…feminine pursuit," Driniah said in a voice so soft she might have been speaking to a sleeping infant. "He didn't like that his son spent so much time walking in the woods with a pen in his hand, and his head in the clouds. I…I always tried to encourage Kai to pursue his talent, as did Nya." With slow, reverent deliberation, Driniah slid the nuthatch picture onto the desk and traced a finger across the drawing beneath: an image of one of Sheshin's stablehands. The man was brushing a dozing horse.

"But Kaytake's influence on him was too strong. Kai only drew when he thought no one was watching." A small smile tried to lift her painted lips. "Kai would hide in the most absurd places. In the barn, he'd tuck himself into a pile of hay with his sketchbook and paper, observing the people who unwittingly worked around him- or, at least, pretended he was not there." She tapped the stablehand's face with a fingernail. "I think he was very good at expressing his subjects' thoughts and emotions in his art. See this man's eyes. So…distant, and thoughtful. But also caring, and proud. You can see in his posture, in the way the fingers of his left hand are buried in the horse's mane, stroking her neck. And his feet…" She faded, and reached for the mug of tea. "I'm sorry. I…I suppose that's not very important right now, is it. Where is Iam?"

"No, you're all right," Misako assured her. "Iam's out with the other lieutenants." At Driniah's alarmed expression she added, "He's not telling them about the treaty. Only reminding them that Garmadon does intend to attack us at some point, and so they need to be ready to assemble the soldiers at a moment's notice."

Driniah nodded, but did not look comforted. She stared at the groomer's drawing for a long while in silence. Outside, the wind tore loudly through the trees.

"What are we going to do, Misako?" Driniah asked. "Zane has left us. Though nobody knows yet but you, Iam, and Josi, I am in control of the South again. It's up to me to decide whether or not to sign this treaty, and I have less than six hours to do that. Not signing it means a terrible, bloody battle between the South and North-Middle. But if I sign…" She touched her belly. "My baby and I will be sent to the Dark Island, where we will be forced to hide from Overlord for the rest of our lives. And the South…" She dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. "My family will always be remembered as the one that destroyed itself in its foolishness."

"Please, Driniah," Misako murmured, kneeling beside her younger friend's chair. "Don't say that. You are a very brave woman. And you're not alone. I'm here to help you fight the North-Middle. And I will not abandon you as Zane did."

Driniah gave a languid shake of her head. "I don't want to fight," she said. "This bid for freedom…it was Zane's fight, not mine. Granted, Garmadon has become much more unstable as of late. But at least with him in command, the South was safe. I was safe. Now…" The dimming fire, crackling and quivering in its bed of coals and ash, reflected in her moist eyes. "First King preserve us. We don't have anywhere to run."

"Don't tell me you're actually considering the treaty?" Misako demanded.

Driniah drew an envelope- the King's treaty- from her pocket. She gave it to Misako without meeting her eyes. Hands quivering, Misako pulled the treaty from its envelope and unfolded it.

There at the bottom in swirling, delicate hand, was Driniah's signature.

Why? Misako nearly crumpled the paper in a sudden fit of emotion. Oh, God, why?

"Give me one good reason not to throw this paper into the fire, Driniah," she said.

"Lady Driniah," the noblewoman corrected, finally turning to the Queen. "As the widow of the late Lord Raen Kaytake, I am responsible for the wellbeing of my realm. I may listen to your counsel, but I am not required to heed it. I have signed this treaty, and intend to call a courier within the hour to deliver it directly to the King's Keep."

"Driniah, have you thought this through?" Misako pleaded. "During Zane's parley with the King, Garmadon sounded like he knew about our affiliation with Cyrus. If he truly does, then he will not care whether or not you have signed this treaty! He will kill all of Cyrus' men, and possibly the rest of the South as well. We signed a contract with Cyrus. He can help us. You can't abandon him now!"

"Zane signed a contract with Cyrus," Driniah said. "Since he is no longer here, and I am in charge, I can break the contract without guilt."

"But the people Cyrus sent-"

"Do you think I have no heart?" Driniah set aside the stack of her son's drawings and stood, a hand under her stomach. "The South has ships. I can sail Cyrus' people back to the North secretly. They will be safe."

"And what about you?" Misako stood, setting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Driniah, you're expecting a child! You can't go to the Dark Is-"

"I will NOT save my own life at the expense of thousands of Southerners!" Driniah shouted with surprising force. "You are the Queen, Misako! Surely you understand that!" Her voice plummeted to a desperate whisper. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "I may be a leader, but that doesn't mean I deserve to live while my people are dying."

Misako's retort died on her tongue. She looked at the treaty in her hand, penned in her husband's familiar handwriting. Then at Driniah's belly: at the innocent child that she was carrying, unaware that its fate rested so cruelly in the hands of the King, and now, by extension, the Overlord.

Driniah had lost so much in these past few weeks. Her daughter and husband lay silent under the earth in the garden behind Sheshin Keep. Her only living family, her son, had been driven away. Whether he was even alive anymore, no one knew.

Oh, God, Misako prayed, protect Driniah and her children. Do not let them fall into the hands of our enemies.

Reluctantly, the Queen relinquished the treaty. Driniah took it, looking equal parts relieved and frightened.

"The…the South is no longer a safe place for you," Driniah managed after a moment. "I'm sorry it had to end this way. I can help you escape to the North on a ship with Cyrus' people. When-"

There was a distant crashing sound. Both women froze.

"That…that was the front doors, I think," said Driniah, looking pale.

They remained quiet for another minute, listening attentively. A female voice shouted something that Misako could not make out at a distance. A male voice answered- a low, equally indistinguishable murmur.

"Is that Josi?" Misako asked. "She must have found Zane!"

"Perhaps." The Southern Lady crossed the room and, one hand on the door latch, took a deep breath before opening it. Misako followed her out into the hallway, where the voices were slightly louder, but still indistinct.

"My- my Ladies!"

A pair of Southern soldiers rushed toward them. Misako and Driniah paused, waiting for the men to catch up to them. Misako glanced down the opposite end of the hallway: had a hostile force arrived at the keep? Did they need to flee?

"There's a…situation," one of the soldiers said.

"Yes?" Misako asked, trying to gauge the man's pale face. He seemed at a loss for words.

"It's Josi, Miladies," the other soldier filled in. "And…and Lord Julien."

So, Zane had been found. But this should have been good news! Why did this guard look so shaken?

"What's wrong?" Driniah asked. "Did something happen?"

The men glanced at each other, then the first one spoke. "It's Lord Julien, my Lady," he said. "He's been injured. Badly."

Zane's eyes were closed. Every muscle in his face seemed lax as he lay, dripping with melting snow, on his bed.

"He'll live," Josi snapped, aggressively pouring out her entire tool kit onto Zane's nightstand. "Stop pestering me and get out of the way."

Misako took a step back, watching with distress as Josi leaned over the bed and ripped Zane's wet, bloodstained shirt open with a knife.

"Whose blood is that?" Driniah asked in a tremulous voice as Josi tore the shirt from Zane's body. "Josi, he doesn't look in any condition to be handled like that! Please be gentle."

Josi muttered under her breath and threw the shirt over her shoulder. It crumpled on the carpet next to a soldier's foot- the man backed away warily.

There was a terrible, gaping wound in Zane's left breast. Misako steeled herself, gripping the bedpost at Zane's foot. Driniah inhaled sharply, a hand at her own breast.

Oh, my… Misako's breath was stolen from her. What was he attacked with? That doesn't look like a stab wound…

"…Zane," Driniah began hesitantly, her face a pale green color. "You're sure he's not dead?"

"Yes, yes," said Josi impatiently, swinging Zane's chest panel open. She pointed at a small green capsule directly in the center of his chest, surrounded by dozens of wires that spread throughout his open torso, and on from there to the rest of his body. "See here? That's Zane's core. It's still intact. And over here, his power source. Mmm…it's damaged, but functional. Barely." She muttered a curse under her breath and turned, pointing to a soldier. "Go fetch Dali, Hadoka, and K'yon," she ordered. "Nindroids in the barracks. Tell them to bring their equipment."

"Yes, Josi," he said, and rushed from the bedroom.

Driniah came around the bed and hesitantly touched Zane's hand. "He's so cold," she said. Her eyes widened. "Josi, he's not breathing-"

"He's not dead!" Josi snapped, turning on Driniah. The noblewoman recoiled.

"Hey." Misako gripped Josi's shoulder. "What do you need us to do?"

Josi glared at Misako, looking about ready to shove her off. Then she took a deep breath, pressing her palms to her flushed cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I…I don't think there's anything you can do right now. Hopefully Hadoka will have some equipment. I only brought my standard kit, and Zane needs some serious internal work done. We'll need welding tools… There'll be some cosmetic damage once we're done, too, and I don't know what to do about that without the Doctor's-"

"Breathe," Misako said.

Josi took another deep breath and brushed melting snow from her face. "I'm sorry," she said again. She looked at Zane, her jaw tight. "This moon-cursed fool stopped at the Sheshin Temple."

"What?" Misako's brows raised. "That temple was supposed to have been abandoned for days! What was he doing there?"

"Did he…" Driniah didn't seem able to pull his eyes away from the foreboding hole in Zane's chest. "He didn't…do this to himself? Josi?"

"No, of course not," Josi answered. "Apparently, the Southern Lord Rector has been hiding in the temple with one other Priest. Judging by the supplies I found, it looks like they'd been there for a couple days before Zane showed up."

"Are you saying that a Lord Rector did this to Zane?" Misako asked.

Josi's expression told her all she needed to know. Misako and Driniah exchanged astonished looks.

Misako knew from experience that Lord Rectors were not the most trustworthy people: what the Middle Lord Rector did to Way-followers on a regular basis was a testimony to that. But to think that one of the three most important Priests in Ninjago would have attempted to murder a nobleman staggered the Queen's imagination.

"So…now what do we do?" Driniah asked. "How long will it take to fix Zane?"

"Probably about eight hours," Josi answered, grimacing. "We don't have eight hours, though. The sun will be rising in six, at best. And then Garmadon will attack if the treaty is not signed." She glanced out of a large window to her left. Snow flew in all directions outside, thrashed about by the strong wind. Her forehead creased. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Misako asked.

Josi turned back to the two women. "There's a storm," she said. "I don't know where it came from so abruptly, but that wind is terrible, and it only seems to be getting worse. Would the King make the North-Middle soldiers fight in this weather?"

Sudden realization made Misako's heart race.

"No," Driniah said. "That would be suicide; he could not possibly put his army to effective use in this weather- especially while we have the defensive position."

"Then we have time!" Misako exclaimed. "Depending on how long this storm lasts, we could have weeks to prepare for the King's attack! We could have a chance to-"

"No," Driniah said firmly. "This changes nothing. I'm still sending the treaty to Garmadon."

"You signed it?" Josi asked sharply.

Driniah nodded.

Josi ran a hand through her windswept hair, clearly processing this new development.

She sighed, and nodded. "All right," she said. "I don't agree, and I think Garmadon will attack us no matter what we do. But I respect your desire for peace. I pray that this will end well, for the sake of the South. And Cyrus' people."

I never imagined that this True Grit journey would lead me to do research on grafting fruit trees, of all things. Hearkens back to the days of the fruitcakes, neh? XD (...There has to be someone still here who remembers that joke.) After so much time not really writing much, I was shocked to see how easily that dialogue came to me. I just...set up the scenery, reminded Peran of his duty to be the world's hugest, coldest, and wettest firehose (wasn't too hard, tbh), and the other characters graciously stepped up too shoulder the remaining burden! Thanks, you guys.

I have to give credit to Jesse McMinn, creator of Legend of Maxx, for giving me the inspiration to do that scene. Specifically, his meandering Maple and Poa comics. Now, I didn't wander quite as much as those two Dryad dorks, but let no man say I didn't try. XD If you liked this, I might possibly have time for one or two more in the future! (Heaven knows we need some comic relief. Let's just hope there won't be any more silly injuries... Sorry, Akins.)

A special and especially heartfelt thanks to my dear squibby StoneByrd. You were having a crazy busy time last week, and still you were willing to spend a couple hours discussing True Grit troubles with me. That means a lot. Thank you.

All right! Thanks for reading, guys. Reviews are very dearly appreciated. Have a great week!