Chapter 55: Impassioned

To Sokka's dismay, Aang and several other Water Tribe officials had pressed him to keep out of the settlement meeting, which commanded the presence of the princess and the Fire Lord and Lady. The Avatar assured him that ample security measures were taken to accommodate the prince's absence, citing his own presence to make sure the transaction goes more smoothly than the last one. He didn't outright state that the reason for this arrangement was Sokka lack of control over his tongue, but it was obvious to the isumataq, who complied with a grumble.

Apart from emergencies set to be handled by waterbenders of great prowess, all other activities in the Northern capital came to a halt, accommodating the violent storm that continued to rage. It was no hindrance, however, to Sokka's fanboying over the princess to a couple of passing servants, earning the attention of other palace servers, even officials such as Loyalists, Revivalists, several Neo-Nationalists and skeptical Nationalists given his dramatic storytelling. Needless to say that Zei and several journalists had flocked to the palace right at that time, not minding the severe weather as long as they were able to secure a story.

"And Master Ashface was like, 'You and your nation have a chance to repent!'"

"What happened next?" a Loyalist asked.

"Yeah, what did the princess say?" asked a Neo-Nationalist.

"And at that moment, Her Highness looked straight at that blubberfucker," drawing out his voice and gliding to the opposite side of the room, chin up, his voice dropping soft yet firm, eyebrows raised, "'How bold of you to assume I'm here to settle things.'"

Cheers erupted, and he shushed them, reminding them that the princess was in a meeting.

Imona and Junguk, who were also persuaded to keep away from the meeting, settled beside the isumataq as he continued narrating the events of the morning meeting. He imitated the characters, changing his style and gait with every personality he reenacted, earning the claps and hollers and cheers of his audience.

And retaining the diverse audience, too, as he banked on tribal pride and sentiment, thus putting into practice an effective solution to getting people to sit in one area for a long time: shitting on a mutual enemy. The meshed tribal sentiment was so great that even the Nationalists came to soften up in mention of the heroic bravery of the dronningi.

"And then Princess Psycho jumped up and said, 'We'll never agree to your demands! You think you're a princess? I'll burn down your entire capital!'"

And while the members of the audience were displeased by the Fire princess's comments, they still laughed at his squeaky mocking tone, relishing the effort he was putting in his presentation as he scooted over to "the good side," of the debate, "And our dronningi said…wait, how did she…? Oh yeah!" Taking on a calm tone, "'Did you know that wildfires bring harsh rain? The wilder the fire, the greater the storm. It's nature's way.'"

And that was clearly the fan favorite, earning fervent applause.

"She gave it to 'em real good!"

"La's hell yeah, she did," the prince grinned. "Sent that psycho running for her life with a blink! I get goosebumps just thinking about it! And it's still storming, folks!"

Indeed, the storm only ramped up their sentiments enough to rival their applause with the howling thunder.

"Princess Psycho might be a fire-breathing dragon monster, but our queen is a goddess."

"And how do we know you're not exaggerating this?" a skeptical Nationalist official crossed his arms. "We were there when she whipped up the storm, but there's no way we'll know what actually happened at the meeting—"

"If you don't believe what you hear, go read it off the Fire family's humiliated faces," Sokka raised his eyebrows, "Or dig through the official council's records and transcripts if you want."

"Alright," Imona stood up, having entertained the situation for long enough, "That's enough, everyone get moving."

After the audience dispersed, the princess's friend frowned at the isumataq, "What in the name of Tui and La?"

"Just building rapport," Sokka answered, "So they'll start to favor our dronningi—"

Imona refrained from rolling her eyes, "Whatever, just head home."

Sokka leaned back against the pelts he'd been sitting on, a longing look on his face, "I can't. I just…I'm having a hard time leaving…"

"You've fallen very deep my friend," Junguk said, "And I'm afraid it's too late to get you out."

But Imona was not amused. "Honestly, it's best if you don't entertain this kind of nonsense."

A pang of defensiveness shot through, "I don't think my feelings are nonsense, Sister Imona. I'm not like the shithole tribesmen you've seen." A bit of helplessness mixing in, "I have so many strong feelings…Sometimes I feel like I don't know how to navigate them…You don't understand, it's killing me, I—"

"It's called lust. What other uncontrollable feelings would a man have?"

"Imona," Junguk frowned, "How can you say that? Can't you understand where he's coming from?"

Sokka tried his very best to fight off a glare of hurt, reminding himself of the circumstances that drove such a statement in the first place. "I'm not like that," he choked out. "Whether you believe it or not, I'm not like that."

The ex-Revivalist then took note of the genuine hurt in the prince's gaze, and in light of the circumstances, the effort he put in saving the innocent couple, she sighed, letting up her harshness for a moment, "Fine. If it's really those lovey-dovey feelings you're talking about, keep a journal or something."

"A diary?"

"Call it what you want, but there's absolutely no shame in getting your thoughts on paper."

He softened his eyes and nodded in acknowledgment, "That seems like a good start..."

"Then look into it," she crossed her arms, her tone still biting, "Instead of letting these feelings of yours grow uncontrolled. She has many aspirations, and she's sure as hell not sacrificing them."

"I'm not gonna separate her from her home or her aspirations."

"Even if you're not like the 'shithole tribesmen' out there, you're nevertheless the candidate for Southern chiefdom. Remember that. It will be explosively complex if you try to balance out your duty with your obsessions."

"Prince Sokka can be trusted," Junguk said. "No matter the circumstances, he's not going to ask Kuunnguaq to—"

"He can save the entire world if he wants," Imona cut him off. "He could be La Himself. But I'm not gonna stop looking out for her, Junguk. This tribe has seen enough yakshit to fall for words on the surface." Standing up and casting a serious look at the prince, "So don't entertain something that's not gonna happen. Don't waste her time…and yours, for that matter."

Their conversation was cut short by the princess's footsteps traversing down the corridor leading to the chamber they were currently in. Sokka tried not to look so distraught, clearing his throat and heading over to the dronningi. She greeted him with a tired smile.

"How did it go?"

"Much better than the last meeting," she said, handing him a scroll. "It's the Fire Nation's Statement of Apology addressed specifically to you. It has Ozai's signature."

"It does?"

"I'm sure it'll be a great ego boost for you." And after ruffling his hair, a smirk hiding in her eyes, "Now go home."

"Not now," he frowned, "I don't have to go just ye—"

"Your Highness?"

Yue drifted her focus to a group of officials heading her way— an old Loyalist official, in particular, who had tentatively followed her in hopes of catching her attention, carrying a scroll in his hand. "Is there something you need, Mr. Kakkak?"

"Yes, Your Highness…" he approached her, handing her the scroll in his hand, "I respectfully submit to you my resignation."

Yue took the scroll from him, waiting for him to elaborate. Junguk and Sokka, however, only shared concern, for yet another official— an experienced official— was dropping out. They had already lost several people in the past week.

"I apologize, but I can't go on like this," the tribesman said, his gaze lowered. "There are great risks that come with people who support your regime, and…I feel that my family is being put at great risk…regardless of your gracious efforts in organizing extensive security for us. As you can very well see, I am old. I am no longer the warrior I used to be. I have children and grandchildren who are not involved in politics. They are leading very normal, quiet lives, and the last thing I would want is for them to be dragged into danger because of me, who should've retired many years ago."

"You don't trust our dronningi," Junguk raised his eyebrows.

"It's not merely a matter of trust. Unfortunately, I can see what the future looks like for this regime."

"You mean for me," Yue corrected, eyeing the man patiently, "What the future looks like for me."

"I…I'm afraid so, yes." Briefly sharing a look with her, "And unfortunately, we don't have the facility of conducting our business in masks and veils like you."

"It's alright," Yue said, "I understand your line of reasoning. You have performed a great service to the Water Tribe Council, and that is reflected in your honorable reputation. We shall send you your last official payment, and starting the month afterwards— should you choose not to take up another position— your pension cycle will begin. You are free to go now."

"The paperwork…"

"Not necessary. Our secretary will have that taken care of."

The man nodded, bowing before turning to leave. He stopped midway, however, feeling oddly fearless around the princess enough to speak another word or two, and hence, he turned back, "If I may be so bold as to give you advice, Your Highness…"

That didn't evoke a welcoming response from Sokka, Junguk, and Imona, but Yue was more patient, "Go ahead."

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, "The speed at which your sleigh is traveling downhill is…dangerous. As an experienced politician, I can tell you that in the past, there have been many people who stepped into politics, wanting to do good for the tribe. But they quickly realized the difficulties of living up to their ethics. And might I remind you, Your Highness, that Khasiq is not dead, nor is his influence. You may have achieved a great victory against the Fire Nation today, and you may have swayed a vast majority in your favor, and among the people cheering you on, I am one of them, believe me. But…"

"But what?" Sokka scowled.

Sighing, "Please don't take this the wrong way, Your Highness, but to be frank, I greatly pity your inexperience. You are naive and child-like in your strife to do great good for the tribe. It's amusing, but it's not effective."

"Naive and child-like," Yue mused over the words, "Go on."

"You will be offending several people of importance, by which I mean the businessmen who have been profiting from Khasiq's interactions and ventures. You've already established that you don't care for those bigshots given their unethical practices, but they will be coming for you. This is the tragic truth. Of course, I may be stating the obvious, but…the entire palace is shaking, and you don't seem to see it. You are insisting on doing what you want to do. You are being stubborn and aggressive about certain matters…and that is neither beneficial to the country nor to you as a woman…"

Sokka's furious glower caught the man's attention, the prince's only restraint stemming from the bright hand that stopped his arm. The tribesman man opted to back out of finishing his sentence, saying instead, "It is very unfortunate, don't misunderstand me. We want to be on your side and help, but we will be at great risk. My family needs me as much as I need them…and while I respect you and our country, I'm afraid I cannot continue like this. And it is not just me. Even able-bodied employees and experienced warriors are currently wetting their pants at the prospect of being thrust into uncalled-for danger in the hands of the Fire Nation…considering the circumstances…"

The princess nodded in acknowledgment, "Your commitment to keeping your family safe is commendable, so I'm not taking any offense with your resignation. Nor will I take offense if anyone else," briefly looking at the other officials surrounding them, "wants to back out of this for the same reason. But I'm afraid I don't appreciate your advice, Mr. Kakkak."

"I was afraid you'd say that," the man frowned.

"I'd never ask my citizens to take dangerous risks, but if I as the leader of this country sit back and do nothing…if I constantly cower over people of importance', this tribe will never see the light of positive change." Folding her arms, "I'm not backing out just because Khasiq's puppets are upset with me. Because I know what I'm capable of." Raising a brow, "You've seen what I can do, didn't you?"

Looking from the storming gales through the window to the princess, "Yes, Dronningi."

"And with regard to what Water Tribe society finds attractive in a woman, I simply do not care for such standards. At the end of the day, I am not trying to seduce anyone. I'm only taking the route that safeguards the rights and dignity of our tribe."

"I understand," came the reply.

Finding that he was still displeased and yet being no surprised, "To each their own, Mr. Kakkak," she said. "Every living being is imbued with strength, and I'm no different. When I say I seek to protect my nation in any way I can, please know that you and your family are within the nation I am talking about." And with that, she left, not intent on having others follow her.

She was standing outside of the veranda in front of the door of her study, which led to the outside world, and she had lost herself in the fierce embrace of La's justice, leaving behind reality as she basked in the rain. Her eyes closed, her arms behind her back, head facing up with closed eyes as the downpour pattered on top of her. She was surrounded by the comfort of her element, lulled by the howling winds, the violent nature of the storm not disturbing her peace.

And a small distance away, seated on the steps leading out of the veranda was the prince, a mixture of both fascination and concern churning in his gaze as he watched her, the back of his mind latching onto the problem of lack of official support for her. He had asked her to watch the storm from inside multiple times, fearing she'd catch a cold, and he'd offered an umbrella multiple times, but she insisted on soaking in the storm, remaining perfectly still in the midst of the chaos. Sokka insisted on staying close by much to the Northern leaders' amusement and equal concern.

Chieftess Ahnah, having had enough, huffed her way over to the door for the tenth time, a towel in hand and a frown on her face. "Alright, paniga, when are you going to make it stop? It has been storming for hours."

"I'm not in charge of when it stops," Yue mumbled, her eyes remaining closed, "I was only a catalyst."

"Fine, but at least come inside. You're soaked!"

"Yes, La is quite arousing."

To which Sokka couldn't help cracking a grin, noting the many emotions his mother-in-law grappled with on her face.

"Wha…? Young lady!" But leaving aside her flustered state that resulted from her daughter's rather ambitious remark, ignoring the princess's smirk, "You'll get sick if you're like this!"

"I'm a healer, anaana, it's okay."

Exasperated, "Disobeying me is one thing, but putting your husband through the wringer with you? The poor boy's been outside keeping watch, getting soaked with you."

The princess then opened her eyes, surprised to notice the prince's grinning and indeed damp presence, a shrug that indicated to her that he wasn't bothered. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying himself. "Isumataq, you're still here?"

"Of course I'm here! I'd tell you if I left."

"Tell her to get out of the water, ningauk," Ahnah said to her son-in-law. "I'll have the servants fetch some moonroot tea for you both."

The princess sighed, standing up, soaking in a bit more of La's showers before stepping back under the icy veranda. Sokka sighed in relief and followed at the beckon of her finger.

"You're doing okay, right?" he asked. "I get that Mr. Kakkak was quite experienced. Even if he is a sexist jerk."

"I agree that experienced officials bring stability to the table, but if we really want a radical change in attitudes, we must be willing to work with those who are worthy of bringing that change. Generally the trend for that points to the younger generation, but I'm open to the experience of people like Old Man Ingimak. He has really come a long way."

He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, he considers you his honorary granddaughter. I know he'll appreciate making arguments in you favor all the time."

"That's not necessarily the point of the position he's in, but it's definitely a perk," she grinned.

"So righteous, aren't you?" he said. "Well in that case, have you decided on a punishment for me yet."

"For what?"

"I retaliated," he reminded her. "You said justice isn't one-sided."

"Oh, that," and she proceeded to bend the water off of the isumataq and herself, "Community service."

"Community service?"

"You'll be helping me organize the farewell dinner for the Fire family."

"That doesn't sound like much of a punishment to me," he said, still grinning. "Seems like you're just playing favorites."

"You are a favorite," she admitted, "But also, you did do the Fire Nation a great service by preventing a serial rapist from roaming their streets and targeting their women, so…"

"Oh…well if you put it that way, I did, didn't I?"

She then got settled in the pelted porch swing in the corner, still tuned into the storm as she slipped her hand next to her on the swing, inviting his company. His grin didn't waver as he joined the space beside her, his chest filled with content.

"You should sleep, dronningi," he took the liberty to brush back her cascading river of milky locks.

"In a minute." Her hands reached for the damp cloth bandage at his temple.

"You can heal me later—"

"Shhh," and as she dried his bandage, extracting the excess water and the small amount of paste that remained, "You could've just waited out here where it's dry. Most of the paste is washed away."

"Oh I don't mind."

"Seriously, you didn't have to get drenched just because I was."

"I wanted to enjoy the rain with you," he said sweetly.

"Then you could've told me," she ignored the tug at her heart, "I just forgot about everything and everyone for a while…I didn't even think about you still being here. I thought you got sick of trying to get me back inside…"

"I'd never get sick of you," he said. "I didn't want to bother you, that's all."

"Well you didn't have to sit there for hours. Did you think I was going to fire you for going home?"

"While I do want to impress my employer, it's not that. I just…I like watching you."

She blinked, and he widened his eyes, "I don't mean that in a creepy way, don't get me wrong. I mean I like seeing you enjoy yourself."

Before she had the chance to react, from the corner of her eye, she took notice of her father as well as Ivaneq, both of whom were standing by the door. The men were smiling at the duo, taking particular note of how truly fascinated Sokka was with his wife.

"Never seen a healer and patient interact before?" Yue asked.

Which stirred the men out of their trances. Arnook cleared his throat and stepped forward, "They left the country, paniga."

Yue raised her eyebrows in curiosity and was answered with a scroll that indicated a surrender of the requested amount from the Fire Nation financers to Water Tribe officials.

"Lord Ozai and his daughter insisted on leaving with their supporters immediately, Your Highness," Ivaneq explained. "They boarded their cruisers without regarding the weather, and they took Zhao and the other soldiers with them. Everyone else is staying for the intended time."

She briefly scanned the contents of the scroll, nodding in acknowledgment before handing it back to Ivaneq, "Please set aside five hundred gold pieces for the victims. In the next hour, the funds should be at their doorstep. And if possible, please make arrangements to transfer the rest of the amount to my treasury. The funds will be useful for my next project."

"I will have everything taken care of, Your Highness," Ivaneq bowed to everyone in his vicinity before hurrying to fulfill the princess's command.

"And also, you fired Brother Inkurit from his position in the Loyalist council."

"I did, and I have zero fucks to give about it."

"Fuck yeah!" Sokka cheered.

"Your mouth isn't usually this foul, paniga," Arnook said, looking more concerned than displeased— or perhaps secretly amused by his son-in-law cheering his daughter on— "You need to be calm—"

"I'm tired literally and metaphorically," she said, "I really don't care what the Fire Nation thinks at this point. If people want to leave, they're free to do so, and no one's out here waiting to stop them or beg them to stay. And also, Inkurit made rude comments to our new financial advisor and mocked her abilities because she doesn't have a penis." With an angry huff, "I've shown him mercy in the workplace far too many times. If he really wanted his job, he would've considered my warnings. He won't be missed, ataata."

Arnook did not protest. On the contrary, he couldn't hold back a smile, and even the slightest bit of reservation he might have had was wiped out at being called ataata, even with Ahnah being out of earshot.

The princess, caught off guard, asked, "You're happy about this, then?"

"I wasn't concerned about him. I just wanted to know why you fired him."

"He's one of your top advisors. Are you really not bothered?"

"It's your country now. Do what you feel is right. I won't be stopping you." And with that, the chieftain made his way back inside.

"And all it took was marriage," Yue murmured, her sigh mingling with the rumble of thunder. Her fingers reached for the bandage and unraveled the knot.

"How much longer do I have, Princess?"

Frowning, "Isumataq—"

"I can take it, tell me," he struck a dramatic pose, drawling, "Will I last 'till morning?"

"It's not funny," and she unwound the wrap from around his head, thumbing the skin there with relief, "It's not going to go away any more than this, but it's really not bad at all."

She bent an icy mirror, allowing him to take a look at his reflection. Indeed there was a noticeable streak at his temple, drawing a path that narrowly missed his eyebrow, and the same went for the scar at his jaw. It wasn't too noticeable until seen up close. "Oh yeah, that's not bad at all!" he agreed.

"If this scar worries you that much, you can cover it with facial hair," she gestured to the one on his jaw. "The other one, people may notice."

"Eh, it's fine," he fixed up his hair in the mirror, "If anything, it makes me look cool and intimidating. And the important thing's that I'm still smoking hot through all of it."

She caught her smile before it let loose, turning away as she sought to distract herself.

"Was that a smile I saw?" he nudged her arm.

"No, no it wasn't."

"Come on, Baby Blue, cheer up," he huddled against the swing, "You got those Fire psychos running for cover."

"I still can't believe you'd laugh at those officials in the middle of such a tense meeting," she pointed out. "If Aang wasn't there keeping watch, you would've been shot in the face with either lightning or fire or both."

"I appreciate the love, I really do, but everything was under control." And when she still wasn't convinced, "Oh alright, I should've been a teensy bit more considerate."

"Teensy?"

"Okay, a lot. But in all seriousness," his beam widening, "Thank you for saving my laughing ass back there."

Letting her grin play out on her lips as she, too, relaxed against the swing, "It's certainly a pleasure saving your laughing ass."

"Seriously, I should consider tattooing 'property of Yue' on my backside."

"Don't give me any visuals, now," she said as he chuckled, "Your ass is very worth saving, so I did what I had to do."

"Well thank your Spirits that you're so fond of my ass."

"That's not what I meant, allow me to rephrase—"

"Oh I know what you meant," he held a twinkle in his eye, "I just wanted to hear you say 'ass' again."

"How innocent of you to think I'm innocent, isumataq," Yue smirked, "You're a baby compared to the curses I know."

"Am I?"

"You've only known me for a week. It's not like you can't come to that conclusion," she said. "I'm not a saint. I eat, sleep, curse, fart."

"But you play the sophisticated tribeslady card."

"I do."

"And a sophisticated tribeslady 'doesn't curse,' apparently."

"Not in the common tongue, hotshot," she winked, earning a wide-eyed blink, "If you want to curse for real, you step out of the common tongue zone. Native swears are much more raw and spicy. And it's not like I learned two entire ancient languages for nothing. Osha's a rather knowledgeable teacher, and I had to take advantage."

Utterly surprised, "But they're holy languages…!"

"According to society, yes, but you know how it is. These ancient tongues are the same as any other language spoken by any other person. People cursed with Angkaran and Nagaran. Initiated sex-talk with them, wrote satires and erotica with them just as much as they wrote hymns. They're normal languages. We just happened to preserve their religious writings more and sanctified them in the process."

"I knew you were a heretic, but I didn't think you'd go this far," he said, rare awe lighting up his gaze.

"The Spirits are embodied in freedom. One who doesn't utilize the freedom of speech is rejecting La's gifts," Yue said. "And anyhow, it's my firm belief that the universe came to be when the Great Aninnialuk said, "Fuck this," in the face of nothingness. The universe remains sustained with the Great Aninnialuk consistently telling injustice to "Fuck off."

He felt a great thrill shoot up his spine, wonder alight in his sharp blue hues. Leaning closer, dropping his voice lower as he asked with a giddy shudder, "What's the worst word or phrase you've ever thought or said about someone?"

"Well it's obviously about Khasiq in that regard," she said, adding, "Irikki imnu sengamna ri'zh qi'ma arifaqz."

"And what's that?"

"Something along the lines of…" and after looking both ways, she whispered in his ear, "'Wring his dick dry and leave it out on a glacier to freeze.'"

His lips bobbed speechlessly as she shot him a devious grin, "But that one's really disrespectful. You'd have to hate someone with all of your heart to use that."

"I'll say," he brushed the back of his neck, "That's quite a…"

"Who said our ancestors weren't creative?"

Scooting even closer in his excitement, "How do you tell someone to fuck off in Nagaran or Angkaran? Preferably both?"

"So you can go around saying that to people?"

"It's not like they'll know what I mean!" he protested.

"Then why learn it?"

"Because I get infuriated with people and want to say it to their faces," he said. "Just gotta say it with a smile, and they'll think you're blessing them in the ancient tongue."

"Well no one's ever going to think that if you say it."

"Oh come on, pleeeeeaaase?"

With an amused smile, she looked both ways before leaning forward, "Ingan sema."

"That means 'fuck off'—?"

"Shh, keep it down!" she whispered, lightly slapping his wrist, earning a laugh, "Ingan sema," she whispered again. "That's Nagaran. The Angkaran equivalent is Inganseq. Means either fuck it or fuck off."

"Ingan sema, inganseq, okay, got it—!"

"Shhhhh!"

"What, you were fine cursing in front of everybody!"

"Cursing is one thing. Teaching it is another matter."

"Well instead of teaching me just the swears, you can teach me the entire language."

"You care for it that much?"

"Why not? It'll be useful. We can talk about things we don't want other people to know. Secrets, meeting-related comments and notes, upcoming plans and projects."

"You're being serious?"

"Yeah. It'll be a form of communication that only we share. And if I can master the script, I can have my notes in that language, too. We can communicate top secrets that way. Since we never know who we can trust…"

"It all sounds great, but are you sure? You'll only be here until I'm officially recognized as the chieftess. Why spend so much time learning for the North's sake when you plan on leaving?"

Fighting the tug in his heart, "I never said I'll be leaving. And besides, if I want to keep people from deciphering my secret notes, I need to learn it, too."

"Well, if you're that interested." Crossing her arms, a smile to her lips, "We'll have to continue with those flute sessions, too, once the conferences are over."

"You got a deal!"

Upon checking on the duo, who hadn't stepped out in the past few hours, Ahnah was very pleased to see that they remained enraptured in each other's company. Despite their eyes being bloodshot with exhaustion and lack of sleep, they exchanged dopey grins and mumbled and laughed about Spirits-know-what.

"And you two were so caught up in your britches over the marriage," the chieftess smiled knowingly. "Look at you now."

"Don't read into things, anaana," Yue said.

"Oh? Then I must be hallucinating that you and your husband are having such a good time."

"Don't say 'husband.'"

"That's who he is to you, paniga, get used to it." And still wearing the smile on her face, the chieftess stepped back inside.

"Ah man."

Yue looked at the isumataq, "What?"

"That look on your face. You're repulsed by me."

"If I was repulsed by you, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you for hours."

"Still, I for sure thought you'd fall in love with me today," he teased.

"You're saying you did everything to impress me?"

"No, Zhao was a bastard, and he needed an ass-whooping. But still," shrugging, "In hindsight, I thought I'd come off as just and brave."

"I might not be head over heels, but that doesn't mean someone else won't be."

He feigned a pout, crossing his arms. Her lips curled into an amused grin, "But I won't lie. Earlier when you denounced the Book of Purity in the temple premises…that was quite sexy."

Oh. "Well," his heart skipping several beats, threatening to stop altogether, "If you find me so sexy, just admit the truth and settle down with me, Princess. I'll make a good husband."

"Why waste your breath this much? You're not even interested."

"You know that for sure?"

A wave of warmth washed over her face, but she shrugged it off with a chuckle, "Alright, that's enough jokes for now. Get some sleep. Go home. I doubt you slept beyond an hour or two last night." And she leaned back, huddled at the other end of the swing as she heeded her own advice and began to succumb to her exhaustion.

"I don't have to leave yet," Sokka sighed, also leaning back, his eyelids drooping. He expected a protest, but to his relief, it never came. Rather, a smile graced her lips, and she gave a tired shrug.

"Yue...after we get caught up on our sleep and stuff...I doubt we'd be back on our sleep schedule. We'll probably be up all night again, don't you think?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"So…" clearing his throat, "Are you up for an activity tonight?"

"A social activity, you mean?" she teased.

"Yeah," he chuckled, pausing for a moment following that before continuing, "So, uh…I heard there's gonna be a play tonight. A haiku romantic comedy. The 'Princess and the Warrior.'"

"Hm," she acknowledged.

"I was hoping the two of us could go…assuming the storm's over by then," he said with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes, "We could get dinner. Have a good laugh. Or if it's an abomination of a play, we could roast the hell out of it and still have a good laugh."

She laughed softly, tiredly, "Sounds like fun," but the smile on her lips did not last very long. It was as if she was reminded of something, and her cheer dwindled quickly, "But…"

"You don't want to go to that one? We can go to another play if there's one."

"But the reason why his own father doubted him today is you. Because of you, my son has lost his reputation as a respectable tribesman!"

"Our lives have become utterly miserable! We're all breaking apart and it's because of you!"

"Yue?"

She blinked out of her thoughts, flashing him a warm look, "It's not that, Sokka. It actually sounds like a nice play. I just realized I may have other obligations…"

"Oh," he blinked, "Anything I can help with?"

"No, it's okay. Just a few drafts to look over. The Northern Trail Project details and such. It's important but not enough to take away from your time—"

"I've got nothing else to do. I'll help," he offered. "I can transcribe the revisions and proofread the drafts—"

"No, really, I'll take care of it," she said. "You need your rest. I know you're tired from today. And if I can make a suggestion, why not take your parents with you?"

"My parents?"

Observing his befuddled look, "Why the face? Take your parents with you. At least your mother. The poor lady hasn't been able to spend time with you. You've been orbiting the palace like the moon orbiting the planet."

"But—"

"No buts. Tomorrow is your parents' last day here, and I highly doubt they're sticking around after the conferences are over. If you're really going to be staying here until my coronation in nine months, you need to spend as much time as you can with them."

"But I can't let my guard down. You're targeted by the Nationalists, I can't just—"

"I won't step out at all and will maintain strict security at all times, alright?" she assured.

"The enemy could sneak in," he raised an eyebrow.

"Look, you spent many years away from home to take care of the tribe, and now you're obligated and emotionally blackmailed into staying here and being stuck with me because of my selfish parents and their marriage fetish—"

"I made the conscientious decision to stay here."

"Whatever the case may be, you've been apart from them long enough already, and you're continuing to be apart from them for some time. Use this time to patch things up. Besides, they've been caught up in all the drama and never got to properly explore the North. Show them all the places we've been to. Have fun." Her hand rested on his shoulder, "We can go see the play together another time."

He swallowed his disappointment and nodded, "Fine."

"Your brothels have been closed down overnight. The White Lotus has been at your heels with every step you take. But I still decided to give you a second chance. In hindsight, I realize that I only wasted my time."

Khasiq, who was wallowing in the pain that nearly tore his arm apart, said nothing. He kept his glare confined to the floor as his only remaining business partner continued pouring out his desperation.

"I lost a substantial amount of revenue, and I've had to sell off my properties to pay my debts," the man continued to bark. "You had one job, Khasiq, one fucking job! To distribute the requested number of harlots to our businesses! How hard is that?! With someone of your alleged experience in these transactions, I thought you'd pick yourself up! I thought you'd utilize that temple of yours, at least, to send even a single naive tribeswoman this way! My clients would've," and slamming his hand on a nearby ice table, "taken turns, dammit!"

The assistant standing beside Khasiq briefly tensed from imagining the businessman's fate. He was crossing lines that he shouldn't.

"You have all the time in the world to lure a pious housewife for personal satisfaction, but you couldn't secure a single one for your longtime ally! And all because of a woman! I refuse to believe she's extraordinary enough to topple your entire empire!" Huffing angrily, "Makes me wonder if you bequeathed it all to her to keep her as your whore—"

"Our leader is being highly patient with you," the assistant warned. "If you know what's good for you, you'll control your tongue or leave immediately, preferably both."

The businessman growled in frustration.

"And if anything, you're a fool for not recognizing the princess's status. The people are chanting her name in the streets. In just a month of her known existence, she has become the subject of everyone's intrigue, and her feats today have earned her an indispensable reputation. We thought for sure that this would be the end of her and that prince because they messed directly with the Fire Nation, but she had Azula on her toes." With a raised brow, "You think the people are willing to go against her now?"

"Oh, shut your trap already," the tribesman retorted. "What's it to me if the Water Tribe's intact? I couldn't care less about who sits on that throne. As long as my business ventures aren't on the verge of ruin! And worshiping your leader isn't going to cut it!" Directing his glare back at Khasiq, "You may be the leader of the Nationalist Party, but you shouldn't have forgotten that you're in the palm of my hand. If it wasn't for my funding for your insipid propaganda, you would've been trampled by the Loyalists ages ago. You would've been no different than that Fire admiral."

Khasiq pressed his feet firmly to the icy floor of the infirmary, the fingers of his uninjured hand clenching.

"I have no sympathy for you whatsoever," the businessman spat. "Unless you can throw a woman— any young woman— our way in the next twenty fours, our partnership is severed—"

The last of Khasiq's patience snapped as he lunged forward, tore out the dagger at his assistant's belt with his uninjured hand, and threw it at the businessman. The blade pierced his throat, drawing blood instantly, and the man tumbled to the floor, taken by shock and pain. He twitched, clawing at his throat, fingers shaking as they dangled at the dagger before Khasiq grabbed hold of it, using it to slice the skin of his throat and neck. He kicked aside the flailing man, blood pooling on the floor. A passing healer shrieked, set to rush forward and save the man, but she froze as Khasiq pointed the bloody dagger at her.

"Another word, and you'll be next."

To which she stared in horror at the scene before swallowing down the memory of the incident, forcing herself to be distracted elsewhere.

Khasiq threw the dagger aside and plopped back on the patient cot, glading at the bleeding man, staring at his wild gaze, which had frozen in horror. "Funding my campaigns was the least you could've done to stay alive, you fool, but I made you my business partner out of pure mercy."

By now, the man had stopped twitching, all life drained from his eyes. Khasiq kicked him aside, watching him as he rolled over on his stomach, face plunging into his own blood.

"Bastard," the Nationalist leader muttered. "He crossed his limits but still made a valid point. Everything I've done, the empire i've built over years, the Akna destroyed it overnight— GAAAAHH!" He nearly doubled over, the stitches running down from his bicep to his wrist paralyzing him.

"Sir, are you alri—?"

"Does it look like I'm alright, you imbecile?!" he shoved his assistant away with his other hand, his eyes watering from the pain. "Because of her, I'm reduced to nearly a beggar! My businesses, my temple, my empire! FUCK!"

"Master, it's going to be okay, we just need to lay low—"

"That damn White Lotus! I scream to the heavens that she's the unwanted residue of sin the tribefolk are so disgusted with! That she's not set to run the fucking country! But no single bastard believes me," he kicked at the table beside him, emitting a roar of frustration. "If only the tribe knew… The tribefolk praising her now would pelt stones at that heretical witch and drag her out of the palace! Or maybe cut off her head or burn her at the stake! And I could've had my throne!"

Silence followed as he sought to calm himself, consistently wracked with pain. Even then, he had every course of action mapped out in his brain. "The only way I can get back everything is to get rid of the Revivalists and Loyalists, but I can't touch the Revivalists until I get rid of her and that prince, and I can't touch the Loyalists until I get rid of Arnook. The only way I can oust the princess and her fuckbuddy out of the palace— and the only valid license I have for killing off Arnook and ridding the tribe of his supporters— is by showing the tribe that she's an imposter who knowingly hid her status for the throne, that Arnook and the isumataq actively aided her in the process, Arnook for staying in power and convincing the world he's not a sterile excuse of a man, and the isumataq for the purposes of securing the throne alongside her after Arnook's regime. This is the narrative we must paint. This is very likely the entire truth of the matter, we never know."

"Well it's not too late, sir. She hasn't been coronated yet. And even if she is, it's never too late to oust a heretic out of the world. No matter who she may be." Frowning, "At least, if the right means are used. She's powerful, no doubt."

Shaking his head, "No…ousting her out of this world isn't enough. Death is never enough. That would give her the easy way out. I need her to fall with no dignity left whatsoever. I need to crush that arrogance she calls pride. I need to take back everything that was mine." The wheels in his brain turning faster, "And what better way to pacify the Fire Nation than to surrender to them the bitch who insulted them?"

"Do you really plan on handing her over to them as a prisoner?"

"What benefit would it be for anyone to throw her in prison to rot? They'll give her a room, feed her, keep her alive."

"Fire Nation prison conditions are likely to be harsher for people from other nations, sir," the assistant pointed out. "Take the Boiling Rock prison. It's literally in the middle of a boiling lake and makes it impossible for anyone to escape. If you're talking about the mainland prisons, the most dangerous prisoners are strictly confined in metal ca—"

"But they're not whipped on a regular basis, are they?" Khasiq huffed. "As long as you don't bend fire at the Boiling Rock, the most you'll endure is hard labor. And for someone of her abilities, all they'll do is tie her hands and feet together and blindfold her to prevent any kind of bending, psychic or otherwise. We're talking humiliation, here, you imbecile. Ozai's daughter already voiced her desire to enslave her. She will strip the Akna of her very soul. How hard will it be for her to strip the Akna of her pride? Her will to live?"

The assistant stepped aside as Khasiq took his seat on the cot again, a part of him rejuvenated by the possibilities, "Her life must be so miserable that she craves death but is never allowed to die. She will be dragged out of the tribe the moment I slay her father. She will be deprived of seeing his rotting corpse, and she will be thrown on a cargo ship to the Fire Nation. She will forever be stuck in a world that treats her worse than sewer rats and constantly reminds her of her failure."

"The isumataq isn't going to stand by and let all of this happen," the assistant pointed out. "That man is taken by love. It's the talk of the tribe."

"You're back with this nonsense?"

"We expected those feelings of his to last only up to the point he sleeps with her, but what man, even if taken by lust, pits himself against the Fire Nation for a night of pleasure? What man gets stabbed just so the woman will service him one day in the future? He'd have to be a psycho if he's willing to go that far. I mean, if he really wanted his way with her, he could've drugged her easily any time and claimed her. Or maybe they're already in physical relations—"

"He clearly wants to be the chieftain, you blubberwit, that's not love. One can go far for a valuable prize such as chiefdom. But either way, it doesn't matter because we'll be handing him over to the Fire Nation as well."

"That's not going to be easy—"

"Why not? He's the reason why they're pissed. How hard would it be to argue that they specifically targeted him after he was acting like a total dunce? That we had no reason whatsoever to run into trouble with the sister tribe?"

"Yes," the assistant nodded, "You're right."

"Handing him over will appease the Fire Lord's brother, and even if what he has with the princess is beyond lust, won't it make his life absolute hell to see her in sheer misery? And if she truly cares for him, won't it destroy her to see him experience the same fate? They will constantly be within reach but will never be together. Used and abused but never comforted. Robbed of their honor. As Princess Azula apparently said at the meeting, the Akna will be reduced to a whore, unable to fight back a single man as he spreads her legs and plows her into the Fire Nation soil…" His eyes hardened, "But this is all wishful thinking until I meet the burden of proving she's the unwanted, heretical Akna."

"But there's no easy way to prove to the tribe or the White Lotus that she's the Akna. The isumataq is screaming false propoganda every time we open our mouths, and Arnook is vehemently playing along. Maybe if we found the woman who abandoned her…it would've made things easier, I suppose, but not a single person in the tribe has ever seen her. I doubt she's even alive."

"Not a single person in the tribe has ever seen her." Khasiq's entire world came to a pause as a grand idea flashed in his brain. "You dimwit, that's a benefit to us, not a detriment."

"Sokka?"

Sokka stirred to the continued groans of thunder and whined in protest, swatting away the hand that tried to wake him, "Need a nap, Brother Junguk, please..."

"You better wake up if you don't want your parents to cause another shitstorm."

The biting voice of Imona followed, kept low in consideration of the princess's sleeping form, but it nevertheless dragged him out of his slumber. He shot his eyes open, looking around, "Are they here?"

"No, but they'll come looking for you," the woman said, "We don't want to put up with another lecture about how we're heretics."

"And I know Her Highness is lenient with you, but you're about to literally fall into her lap," Junguk pointed out, causing Sokka to freeze and scramble to an upright position in the swing.

"Y-yeah, sorry, sorry. Thanks, man," he rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, but he melted quickly when he saw the princess, who was lost in soft snores, oblivious to the trio's presence. He sighed, a smile working its way to his lips.

"You can stare at her when she's awake," Imona refrained from rolling her eyes, "Now let's go."

The isumataq forced his aching muscles to pull him up, aided by Junguk's helping hand. "What about Her Highness?"

"She's not going to sacrifice her sleep to constantly be next to you—"

"I only meant she'll get cold if she stays outside, Sister Imona," Sokka assured, taking a look at the raging storm, feeling the cold, harsh Arctic gusts tear at his face. "It's freezing and damp out. She can sleep inside."

"Well she's not gonna budge. Kuunnguaq loves storms."

"And swings," Junguk followed.

"Yeah, I can definitely see that," Sokka noted the incessant showers transition into a weightier downpour.

Imona sighed, reluctant as she approached the princess and attempted to wake her, "Kuunnguaq—"

"Shhh, let her sleep," Sokka whispered following an epiphany, "I got an idea! Junguk, can you hold the door open for me?"

"Yeah, sure."

The couple didn't understand what exactly Sokka had in mind as he surveyed the swing for a moment, walking around and observing its width and such, but they certainly didn't expect him to loop his arm under the top frame and lift the heavy swing in its entirety.

"Sokka, what are you—!"

"SHHHH!" he stressed, balancing the weight on his shoulders, his fists enclosed around the bar of the frame.

"Hold on, I'll help—"

"I got it, you two just hold the doors," and he stepped inside, holding his breath as he continued heaving the object, the actual chair of the swing that bore the princess rocking in a gentle rhythm.

Arnook and Ahnah, who were accompanied by servants, were shocked to see the prince in this state. Everyone stared wide-eyed as they took note of the sleeping princess, and the Northern leaders would have woken her had the prince not held a finger to his lips. They could only scramble out of their seats, rushing behind him as he succeeded in carrying the swing straight to her chambers and setting it at a sufficient distance from a curtained window as softly as he was able. He quietly let out a breath, moving in haste to light the fire in the chamber hearth, drape a warm blanket around the princess, and proceed to open the curtain to let in the howling, whirling outside world. He then grabbed hold of his boomerang sheath, coaxing out the ipomoeas he'd stashed, and plopped them into an empty container-turned-makeshift-vase, the fragrance wafting through the room. And after taking considerable pride in his arrangements, he tiptoed back, walking past several pairs of raised eyebrows.

Junguk shook his head, "Spirits, he has it bad."

"After everything he's done, he wants to go see a damn play."

Sokka frowned, keeping quiet as his mother defended him, "He didn't do anything wrong, Hakoda. He was helping out a poor couple—"

"He was acting up in front of Ozai! You know how serious this is, Kya. The Fire Nation could target us at any time and snatch our benefits away! If he wasn't so focused on defending the body of a woman he wants to sleep with, he would've thought about our family!" Glaring at his son, "In his lust, he's forgotten that he has someone to call a father, someone to call a mother, grandparents whose lives are vested in his success and chiefdom, a sister who has yet to be wed to an honorable man, a younger brother who can't even begin to understand the sheer idiocy behind this man's acting—!"

Having heard enough, Sokka got up from where he was sitting and headed to his room, ignoring Katara and his mother as they called out for him.

"—and after everything, he wants to go see a play!"

Sokka slammed the door behind him and locked it, throwing aside his overcoat. He fell onto his bed, trying to calm his seething form, and he eventually managed to do so when the yelling stopped downstairs. Slowly he untied the wrap at his wrist, taking another look at the white Yin and her black centerpiece.

"You're nevertheless the candidate for Southern chiefdom. Remember that."

He sighed and laid his head down atop his arm, his lips brushing against his wedding mark.

"Psst. Hey!"

Sokka stirred from his sleep, noting that he couldn't hear the rage of the storm for once.

"Isumataq. You there?"

His breath quickened; he shot his eyes open, his gaze flitted away from the direction of the painting of Kuunnguaq and flew to his open window. "Yue?"

"Yeah, it's me."

He tumbled out of bed, dropping to the ground, earning an empathetic hiss from outside. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah—" Fuck, why am I so clumsy? — but on his way up, he saw that she'd propelled herself up likely by the pedestal of ice she'd bent beneath her feet. He scrambled up and helped the cloaked princess inside, his heart lifting at her presence.

"What's the rush?" she said, helping him to his bed, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he pat the space beside him innocently, grinning as she joined him.

"Did I wake you up?"

"I was already up," he said, rubbing the back of his head. Yue caught a glimpse of the marriage marking on his wrist.

"You better cover that up," she said, reaching for the blue sarashi and wrapping it around his wrist to cover his marking, "Otherwise, hell's gonna break loose."

"Eh, I've already had today's session."

"Oh no—"

"It's not about you," he said. "It's because I went overboard with the Fire Nation—"

"Because they went overboard with us."

He smiled, feeling all of his irritation from earlier completely slipping away, "Not that I don't like seeing you here, but what are you doing here? I thought you'd be busy…"

"I said I would be…" she didn't finish, her gaze flying to his arm as if she just remembered something. Her hand reached for his cloak, tugging it aside. "Show me your arm."

"You came here all the way for—?"

"Seriously, what in the name of the Universe?" she frowned, "You could've woken me up and told me to go inside like a normal person."

"You had a rough day," he said, "I didn't want to wake you up—"

"Hush," her hands rested over his shoulder and bicep, feeling the skin before palpating it, "Does it hurt? Is it sore or anything—?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine. I'm a strong man, dronningi." With a grin, "In case you didn't already know."

"You still could've dislocated your arm had you not been careful. Were you always like this in the South?"

"There weren't any other Dronningi Yues in the South, so no."

She found that she couldn't maintain her frown for very long, instead fighting back her dark blush, "Seriously, if you do something like this again, I'm firing you."

"Okay okay," with his hands up defensively, "I'm sorry for trying to not disturb your sleep. I'm sorry for trying to be a good tribesman."

"Well if you word it like that, it's not something worthy of a punishment—"

"I didn't do anything wrong, to begin with."

"If you put yourself at risk for discomfort one more time," she reworded, "I'm firing you. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She let go of his arm, relieved to find there were no complications, and she helped his cloak back over him. Sokka kept melting at her touch, "How did you know I was still here, by the way? 'Cause I told you I'll be at the play."

"I didn't," she said. "I felt bad for declining your offer, and I figured I'd still watch the play with you by keeping myself disguised and still allowing you to have quality time with your folks. So I decided to join you at the theater. And as I was roaming the halls in my disguise I heard by word of mouth what you did," her frown returning, "And I went to the theater and saw that you weren't anywhere. I figured I'd try my luck here."

"I'm sorry I made you run around. I didn't think—"

"I told you to hush," she stood up, tugging at his hand, "Let's go."

"Now?"

"The play hasn't started yet."

"Okay!" he jumped up happily only to remember, "But…What about some of the stuff you said you…? You said it was important, so…"

"I would've started working on it, but…" grinning, "Eh, ingan sema."

"Fuck yeah," he beamed.

"Now let's go before we miss out. We also need to get food along the way…assuming you didn't eat…"

"Nah, not yet," he confirmed, following her out of the window, the icy pedestal she'd bent earlier catching their feet. "Though if you just agreed earlier, we would've gotten there sooner, dronningi."

"True, but squeezing in last minute is where the real thrill is."

"I like the way you think!"

The isumataq seemed a little too excited to hit the actual snow and take off, so he jumped off before she bent the ice all the way down, landing in the blanket of tundra.

"Someone's gonna see if you if you're not careful," she cautioned.

"Eh," with a wink, "Ingan sema."

They streaked across the snow, hand in hand, laughing like giddy lovers in the presence of the bright moon and ecstatic sea.

"Mr. Wang, it's okay."

Sokka fought back a sniffle as his slouched form walked out of the theater with her, "They said it was a comedy."

"It was until the last twenty minutes," she said, her arm around his shoulders, "It was a happy ending, too. Why are you so emotional?"

"Because," he sniffled again, "She could've been a great princess for her people…but then she had to go and turn into the moon!"

"What do you expect? She was touched by Tui. It's only obvious she's destined for another kind of life. And even if she lived, he wouldn't have stayed anyway. He was travelling with the Avatar, he had a world to help save—"

"But he would've come back for her! They were in love!"

Sighing, "Alright, take it easy. It's just a play—"

He broke into another sob, "She should've lived!"

"They got back together like five minutes later—"

"Five minutes?"

"Literally five minutes after that part of the play, they were reunited in the Spirit World—"

"But he lived alone for fifty years and helped her tribe before he died of all that heartbreak!"

"But they still reunited. The writers could've made it to where they never…" and she trailed off, deciding not to finish as he fought to brush back another round of tears, "It's not a true story. It's not a total tragedy, either. It was still a great play, wasn't it?"

"Yeah…I know…but that princess…I don't think she ever got what she wanted in her life. The one thing she wanted was to be with someone who respects her…she deserved everything and…society's a piece of shit sometimes…" Clearing his throat, "I just have a lot of feelings."

She paused their walk, "You need a hug?"

Blinking, "Yeah, I'd like one."

And her arms flew around him, rubbing his upper back. "There there," she whispered as he sighed against her shoulder. It probably would've lasted longer had the theater guard not commanded the disguised duo to move out, earning a scowl from the prince before the princess pulled him along.

"You have to hand it to the writers though," she said. "They did fantastic job. It's not easy writing a whole play in just haikus. The dialogue, the narration…" Trying to ease him out of his grumbling, "You didn't notice any technical aspects?"

"Other than them running over the audience at the end like a husky sleigh and wrecking our hearts?"

"Admit it, we were laughing nonstop until those last twenty minutes."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Well…the lead pair had some chemistry, but maybe they could've added a few more haikus to show that a bit more. Most of the audience was looking for that chemistry before the climax sequence. The writers must've planned to focus more on the tragedy, but the emotional weight in the relationship wasn't explored too much in the earlier scenes. It was left to the audience to fish for that weight."

"You're good at haikus," she nudged him, trying to lift his mood, "What would you add if you edited the script? What would the woman say, for example?"

"I'm not a woman," he said, "How would I know what exactly is running through her mind?" Nudging her back, "Too bad we don't have any women who are poetic around here."

"Fine," she looked at him, "What would the guy say to start the conversation then, ikkingutima?"

He lost himself in her baby blue eyes, casting his gaze at her hair, which was adorned with the moonflowers he'd left for her earlier. His flooded chest flailed:

"Sinking deep in love,

Not knowing when, how, or why.

By Tui, I can't breathe."

She mused over the words, a smile at her lips:

"Afloat on a raft

In waters of affection.

By La, I can't swim."