The following two days were filled with a buzz of activity as everyone scrambled to prepare for the upcoming trip. Time seemed to pass in a blur and a crawl all at once, filling Maka with both dread and anticipation. As morning dawned on the third day, Maka looked out over the distant mountain ranges and blew out a long breath. If she squinted, she could almost imagine the foreign Mistari lands pressed up against those very mountains, but knew that in reality, the Mistari territory was too far away for her keen eyes to glimpse, even from the very top of the Keep. Whatever lie in wait for them would remain a mystery.

Only five would be making the journey into the lands of the tiger shifters - Maka, Kami, Black*Star, and two additional guards from the Royal Flight. They'd sent ahead a caravan with supplies the day before with one of the Mistari's avian representatives, so it would only take a half day of hard flight led by the second liaison to reach the foreign territory. Despite Maka's love of flying, the hard pace and the uncertainty of what lay before her had the journey passing in an unremarkable blur.

The Mistari capital was backed against the mountains and surrounded by walls of thick stone - as impenetrable a fortress as Maka had ever seen. She couldn't glean much about the city's interior from the air, but could just make out colorful bands of cloth serving as shelter for an open-air market, while buildings made from the same stone as the walls lined meandering streets.

However, this was not to serve as their meeting place. As part of their role as neutral party, the Mistari had long ago erected an elaborate reception hall just outside the city, but no less well protected. Back against a sheer cliff, the hall rose impressively into the sky, its walls decorated with various carvings and tapestries. A delegation of guards met them at the entrance, nodding as the five landed and shifted back into human form. "The Dio and his son are waiting," one of them said. "The serpiente have already arrived."

Another guard pushed aside the filmy curtains that served as doors to the hall and gestured for them to enter. The interior was dimmer than outside, but still well lit by dozens of candelabras arranged around the space. Skylights cut into the roof high above sent shafts of bright sunlight to illuminate the ornately tiled floor in a regular fashion. Intricate stone murals covered the walls, depicting various tales from Mistari culture. Two sets of pillows were laid out in front of a raised platform at the end of the hall, where two simple, yet elegant thrones currently housed the Mistari Dio, Lord Death, and his son, Death the Kid.

But it was the group seated on the cushions to Maka's right that stole her attention. Camille Evans inclined her head in acknowledgement, a small smile on her face as she rested on hand gently against her stomach. Sitting next to her was an older woman with dark hair and blue eyes so pale they were almost colorless. This, then, was Eloise Evans, Ira Evans' second wife. She might not have been a cobra, as her late husband and son were, as her last remaining son was, but Maka had no doubt that she was no less deadly. Two other serpiente sat a little behind Eloise and Camille, their carefully relaxed postures and sharp eyes revealing them to be guards. That left the man sitting a little ways in front, and clearly the leader of their delegation.

Soul Evans slouched on his cushion with a kind of uncaring grace that looked so natural as to almost be rehearsed. He played with the fringe of the pillow, his only outward display of agitation (if indeed it was that at all and not some kind of carefully designed act). He wore a simple white tunic and dark pants, and were it not for his distinct features, might have passed for someone of a much lower station. His hands stilled as Maka's group approached, and she took notice of the signet ring he wore, identical to his brother's.

Soul looked up as Maka stopped near the cushions, his bone-white hair shifting out of his face and for the second time that week, Maka was pinned in place by a pair of ruby eyes, though Soul's were a shade darker than his brother's. Maka's breath caught in her chest, releasing only when he looked away to scan the rest of their group.

Black*Star touched her arm to briefly reorient her, guiding her to the cushion pushed slightly ahead of the others. Maka and Kami had discussed this, Maka serving as representative, but the weight of that role only truly settled onto her shoulders as she took her place on the cushion.

Lord Death stood, his pitch black cloak billowing around him with every movement. "Several days ago," he began, his voice issuing from the dark void of his hood, "a delegation from the serpiente people came to us, expressing interest in using our lands as a neutral ground to discuss the war that has been raging between your peoples for generations. We agreed, and so both of you have come here to discuss the potential of peace. Who, then will speak for the avians?"

Kami lifted her chin, ever the proud avian queen. "My daughter, Maka Albarn, will soon take the title of Tuuli Thea and as such, will speak for our people."

Lord Death nodded. "And who will speak for the serpiente?"

Eloise responded, "My son, Soul Evans, will soon inherit his brothers' title of Diente. He will speak for us."

Lord Death acknowledged them both, and though he faced her, Maka could see no glimpse of expression under his hood. She resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze.

Lord Death turned his stare to his son, who took it as a cue of some sort. He stood, brushing off his immaculately tailored suit, his glowing golden eyes casting across the delegations seated before him. "Both of you have come to us seeking peace, a goal which is clearly shared between your peoples, if your presence here today is any indication." He spread his hands in a questioning gesture. "Why, then, do you need our help?"

"Even if we are willing," Soul said, "that doesn't mean our people are. Distrust runs deep, and though we might look for peaceful ways to end the fighting, not all of my people will be so willing to lay down their arms."

Death the Kid looked to Maka for corroboration. She nodded. "Our soldiers are chomping at the bit to retaliate for the losses we incurred earlier this week. They're not going to give up on that idea so easily, not unless we find some way to convince them that peace is a viable option. My mother and I may serve as their leaders, but our power only extends so far."

Kid looked to his father, an unreadable expression on his face. Though no words were spoken, some message was clearly conveyed, because Kid turned back to face them and said, "So despite your willingness to end the conflict and forge peace, your people will doubt your decision."

Soul and Maka nodded.

"If you are to lead your people into a new era, if they are to follow you from the lifetimes of bloodshed and fighting, you must be willing to show them how much you yourselves are willing to give to bring them into that new peace." Kid looked from Maka to Soul. "How much are you willing to give to end the war?"

"Anything." Maka and Soul spoke in unison, their entwined voices rising to echo in the hall. Despite the rising temptation, Maka avoided meeting Soul's gaze, instead keeping her eyes on Kid.

"If you truly plan to mend the deep rift that runs between your peoples, you must strike a balance. Only when the both of you meet in the middle, might you convince your people to similarly cross that divide."

Kid's cryptic words tipped the scales in Maka's internal struggle, and she snuck a glance at Soul to see if he might comprehend what Kid was trying to say. To her surprise, a look of apprehension had stolen across his face - he, at least, had some idea of where this was going.

Lord Death stepped forward, taking the conversational reins from his son. "We have spoken at great length of what actions might best facilitate the peace you both desire. You do not have to listen to us, but you came seeking our counsel, and it is this: close the divide by combining your two sides into one. If your people can see that you are able to put aside your distrust and hatred, then they may be more willing to follow you. Maka Albarn, take Soul Evans as your Evans, take Maka Albarn as your mate."

Chaos erupted on both sides as both avian and serpiente voices clamored over each other in protest. Black*Star shouted angrily, gesturing wildly, though his words were lost in the commotion. Eloise's eyes were cold as ice as she spat her protests, and the guards themselves were mere moments away from drawing their weapons.

Yet through it all, Soul and Maka remained silent, both too rattled to add their objections to the clamor. They locked eyes across the hall, and though Maka never thought she might identify with the serpiente leader, she thought she saw her own shock reflected in his face.

Lord Death held an arm out for silence, though it took several moments to achieve. Gradually both groups settled, but the air was now filled with a thick tension. "If neither of you are willing to make this sacrifice," he said, his voice graver than before, "how can you expect it of your people? At the very least, think on our words. Stay the night, and we can reconvene tomorrow to discuss the possibility, if either of you are willing."

The hall emptied quickly after his declaration, both delegations eager to discuss what had just occurred in the privacy of their own camps. Maka's group was ushered to a campsite set up on one end of the meeting grounds, while the serpiente were led to the other. Food and drink were provided, and though Maka partook of what was offered, she tasted none of it.

Black*Star stopped by her tent, still clearly keyed up from the afternoon's meeting. It took several reassurances for him to finally leave, but before he did, he said, "I know you want peace, Maka. But I think this might be too high a price to pay for it."

Maka said nothing, only watched as the flap of her tent settled back into place. The shadows around her wavered in the low candlelight as she made her way to the raised sleeping pallet, her movements automatic as she dressed down for sleep. Her mind raced with the proposal Lord Death had made - unite the royal families, and end the war. Logically, it might have even made sense, but could anyone honestly expect an overnight shift from enemies to pair bond? How could they even entertain the idea of the possibility?

But at the same time… both sides had managed to briefly put aside their animosity and agree to meet to discuss peace, a feat that, based on Maka's own research, hadn't occurred in living memory. A political marriage might be out of the question, but it was possible that other avenues remained. Maka forced herself to put aside that afternoon's meeting and focus on that - the hope that peace might still be within their grasp.

And on that happier thought, Maka climbed onto the pallet and allowed sleep to claim her.

Maka woke suddenly, and for a moment, she remained perfectly still, every sense on high alert to try and determine what, exactly, had woken her.

The question was answered as a dark figure emerged from the shadows, the guttering candlelight casting an orange glow into his pale hair. Those ruby eyes, while not as potent as in the daylight, still glittered in the darkness. Maka forced herself into a sitting position, her every muscle tensed as she reached for the knife stashed under her pillow. "You know, as assassination attempts go, this has to be the worst I've ever seen."

"It certainly is, seeing as I'm not here to assassinate you." Soul slid onto one of the pillows laid out near the center of the tent. "I'm only here to talk," he said, hands out in a pacifying gesture. "Just you and me, without any outside influence." Before Maka could move, his gaze flicked to where her hand was clutching the knife under the pillow. "Neither of us is stupid enough to attack the other in Mistari lands, so why don't you put that down and join me?"

Maka bit back a stinging retort and left the dagger where it was. She slid off her pallet and sat on the cushion across from Soul, carefully tucking her legs underneath her, but keeping herself ready to move should the need arise. "What did you want to talk about?"

"After Lord Death made his proposal, our peace talks ceased quite suddenly, and yet you were the only one not shouting your dismay."

"Maybe I was too shocked to speak up."

"See, I don't think that's it," Soul said, shaking his head. "I think you're like me, desperate to end this war, even if it means sacrificing everything."

"I am nothing like you," Maka hissed, nails digging into her palms. "Don't you dare presume what I'm thinking." The anger tasted bitter on her tongue, reminding her of the mask she'd neglected to don the moment Soul had entered her tent. She quickly slipped it on, allowing the calculated calm to settle over her, but the damage had already been done. Soul watched her features even out, and something shuttered in his own eyes. "Does this mean you're considering the idea, then?" she asked, all traces of her previous rage washed away.

Soul didn't answer the question, but instead continued to study her. "I thought I knew you, once. Your kind was arrogant and unfeeling, unmoved by loss. I hated you."

"You make it sound like you don't anymore."

"Do you still have that carved wood trunk at the foot of your bed?"

Maka stilled, her face going white. It took a couple of tries to find her voice. "What."

"And that sculpted metal tree on top of your armoire - it's very beautiful."

"Who told you that? If you thought you could come in here and threaten me-"

"If I wanted you dead, Maka, you would be."

He spoke the truth, Maka realized, though her heart didn't pound any softer. If he'd seen the inside of her room at the Keep, or had a spy there with easy access, then he'd also had at least one opportunity to kill her.

And yet here she was.

"Why tell me this?" she demanded. "Are you trying to scare me?"

"No," Soul said, "and something tells me it would take a great deal to frighten you. No, I'm only trying to…" He trailed off, then sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know those things about you room, Maka, because I've been there," he said quietly, his eyes on his lap. "In the Keep. I know you think it's the most secure place for your kind, but if you're determined enough, you can find your way up to the top. And I did."

"Why?" Maka asked, her voice pitched just as low. "So you could throw it in my face?"

"It was years ago," Soul continued, ignoring her. "I'd just lost my father the night before, in a surprise attack. I'd lost loved ones before, of course, but my father-" He shook his head. "I don't know why I thought I could keep him longer than I did. I knew the odds, but even still…" He looked up at her, and though his words betrayed a vast array of emotions, his expression was as calm as ever. "I was furious, and devastated, and everything you feel when a parent dies. I vowed that I would get my vengeance, and so I stole into your lands and into your Keep, all the way up into your bedroom."

Though Maka knew the inevitable conclusion of the evening, she could not help the chill that raced down her spine. To think that Soul Evans had stood in her bedroom, staring down at her as she'd slept, with rage in his heart… "Why didn't you kill me then?"

"I meant to. But when I looked down at you… there was a cut on your cheek, and you were crying in your sleep. A nightmare, I think. And in that moment, I realized how young you were, how young I was. You suffered just as I did, even if you didn't let the world show it."

Bile rose in Maka's throat. She knew exactly what night Soul described, knew what had caused the cut, what dreadful thing brought the nightmares and tears with it. The worst night of her life, and it had been the thing that inadvertently saved her.

"I looked at you, and I saw myself," Soul said. "I thought I hated you, and I tried to tell myself that I did, but it was a lie. You were no more responsible for the war than I was."

"Why are you telling me this?" Maka asked again. She felt a little numb.

"I'm trying to tell you that I don't hate you, and I don't want you dead." Soul shrugged. "There might have been better ways to get that across, but I thought it best to go with honesty." He shifted on the cushions, bringing himself a little closer to Maka. She did her best not to flinch away, but judging from the frown that flickered across Soul's face, she wasn't entirely successful. "Maka, we both want this war to end - you wouldn't have come here if that wasn't the case. Don't we owe it to our people to at least try to consider every possible option? I'm willing - are you?"

Maka met his gaze head on, those red eyes pinning her in place. She swallowed, every nerve shaken by what Soul had told her.

"Just - promise me you'll think about it," Soul asked. "We'll be here tomorrow to meet with Lord Death and Kid to discuss the idea. All I'm asking is that you keep an open mind, like you did when you sang lullabies to my brother as he died."

Maka started. "You-"

"I was there, Maka. I'd heard that my brother had decided to join the battle, to fight alongside his soldiers, but by the time I got there…" He bowed his head. "I heard you singing to him as he died, and I have to think that someone who would do that for her greatest enemy might be willing to take another step towards peace. Just… think about it."

Soul reached out a hand towards her, but before he could touch her, the flaps to Maka's tent flew open, revealing Black*Star and another Royal Flight guard. They immediately honed in on Soul, who bolted to his feet, his eyes darting for a way out. Maka stepped in front of him on instinct, holding a hand out to stop the guards.

"It's fine," she said, pinning Black*Star with a commanding stare. "Nothing's wrong, we were only talking. Soul was about to leave anyway." Maka gave a pointed look to Soul, who had already slipped back into the uncaring demeanor from earlier.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," he said, no trace of the brutal honesty and desperation he had spoken with before. But despite that, Maka thought she could see through the act just a little better now. She wondered if he felt the same.

Black*Star and his companion stood down only reluctantly, moving aside only barely. Though Soul held himself casually, ever the disinterested royal, there was a tension in his limbs that Maka had seen every day of her life in the sparring ring. If Black*Star attacked him, Soul would not take it lying down.

Soul had to practically shoulder past Black*Star on his way out of Maka's tent. The captain bristled as he passed by, but Maka grabbed his upper arm and squeezed tightly enough to leave a bruise, if Black*Star's wince was anything to go by. It didn't stop Black*Star from burning a hole in the back of Soul's head, however.

As though sensing his gaze, Soul turned back to meet Black*Star's before looking to Maka and nodding once. His eyes seemed a little softer then, and she could almost see the question there. She nodded back deliberately, and knew her answer had been received: Yes. I'll think about it.

In the blink of an eye, Soul shifted, and Maka could barely make out the white cobra slithering away across the camping grounds before he'd disappeared into the shadows.

"Are you alright?' Black*Star demanded, scanning her from head to toe.

"I'm fine," Maka said. "Honestly. He only wanted to talk about today's peace talks, and tomorrow's. That's it."

"He could have attacked you, Maka," Black*Star pressed. "And none of us would have known before it was too late."

"I'm not completely helpless," Maka retorted. "As you well know. If he'd gone after me, it would have been a tremendously foolish move on his part. And he didn't, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to - Maka, are you serious?" Black*Star said incredulously.

"Yes," Maka said. "I'm perfectly fine, as you can well see, so I'm going back to bed." She turned on her heel and went back to her tent. As she ducked her head under the flap, she heard Black*Star say to another guard, "Tell the Tuuli Thea what's happened." There was a rustling of fabric, and she turned to find Black*Star following her inside. "Maka, wait." Maka said nothing, only crossed her arms.

"Nothing might have happened tonight, but do you understand the danger you were in, that we were in?" Black*Star sighed. "Stupid move, looking him right in the eyes - he could have done anything to you, anything at all, and I would've been unable to move, helpless to do anything. Do you get it?" For a serpiente's stare was every avian's weakness - one Maka felt all to clearly when she'd looked into Soul's.

She uncrossed her arms, her shoulders falling from their defensive stance. "I know," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry. But I was telling the truth - he really did only want to talk."

"You have to be careful. With your coronation-"

"I am careful and you know it." Maka ignored Black*Star's disbelieving snort. "I weighed the risks and decided it was safe enough. But thanks for looking out."

Black*Star nodded, opening his mouth to say something, but a disturbance outside Maka's tent had him stepping back and assuming a guard's more formal posture.

Seconds later, Kami burst in, her expression so hard it might have been carved from stone. "Explain this," she ordered. "Explain how Soul Evans ends up in your tent and you don't immediately send for help."

Exhaustion hit Maka like a tidal wave. "We can't talk about this tomorrow, Mother?"

The expression Kami gave her said more than enough about that possibility.

"He only came to talk. He thought it best if we discussed Lord Death's proposal before we met tomorrow."

Kami waved a hand in dismissal. "That? It's a ludicrous idea - he can't possibly be entertaining it."

The words were out of Maka's mouth before she'd decided to say them. "Why not? Why couldn't it work?"

Kami's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide as she completely abandoned her mask of formality. "Maka, you can't be serious."

Maka shrugged. "I'm only suggesting-"

"You're not suggesting anything." Kami's expression shuttered, reverting back to her usual coldness.

"I'll be Tuuli Thea soon-"

"But until then, the title is still mine." Kami turned to Black*Star. "Begin preparations to break down camp, and send someone to convey our apologies to Lord Death and his son. We won't be attending tomorrow's meeting; we're leaving tonight."

"Mother!"

Kami whirled on her. "This isn't a debate. We're leaving, and that's an order."

A muscle twitched in Maka's jaw, but her voice was perfectly calm as she replied, "Yes, Mother."