A. N. : Suki has been associated with music and dance in my mind, for some reason, and so today's title is a reference to weird time signatures, whose role in music is often to make the listener somewhat uneasy, or confused as to where the piece is going. And of course time signatures are expressed with numbers, which I've already established as a theme all throughout Suki's chapters. Now for the actual content... The sword mentioned in this chapter is a liuyedao, a Chinese sword with a very slight curve along the whole of its blade. Curves typically reinforce the cutting power of a blade, at the cost of making thrusts less precise, but the lightness of this one's curve balances both styles quite nicely. Finally, units of length ! Mentioned in this chapter : the cun (about 3cm), and the chi (a third of a meter). I think that's about it !

They are eight currently eating.

Nine if Suki counts Momo, who alternates between begging Aang for scraps of crackers, and trying to put said scraps into Sokka's mouth – ten, then, sort of. His face is covered with crumbs now, and if he was conscious he'd probably complain, or attempt to teach Momo to bring him meat instead, but –

Sokka being unconscious is precisely the reason Momo is trying to feed him.

He woke up last evening. Ate a little – a quarter of a cracker and half a slice of cured meat – and fell right back asleep. Woke again at night, but Katara and Suki were probably the only ones to notice, or maybe Toph did too, but chose not to react because of how short – eleven heartbeats, Suki couldn't sleep, so she knows exactly how long – the moment was.

Katara checked on him this morning with some of her water, and said – after five breaths – that he seemed fine. General Iroh – Dragon of the West, uncle of both the Prince who burned down Suki's village and the Princess who ordered her execution, the man who laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred days – was reassuring, explained that big injuries like Sokka's are tiring to heal for the body, and him having short moments of consciousness is a good sign.

Suki would've preferred him not needing to recover at all. Not being injured.

Not coming for her.

She presses a hand on her shoulder, massages it for three heartbeats. It still hurts a little, Suki probably pulled a muscle there when the bone left its socket, and Katara promised to look at it later – she didn't say when, and Suki had to bite the inside of her own mouth to keep herself from asking for a precise time. Katara looked bad enough without Suki pressuring her, without Suki adding to the burden of having to heal her own brother.

Toph asks for her fourth rice cracker, and Suki hands it to her. The Princess nickname seems to have stuck. It makes Suki uneasy.

There aren't any princesses back home, the only ones Suki knew of for the longest of times were Earth Kingdom ones from old Spirit tales, meek and delicate, with palest skin from not doing anything outside the safety of their palace. Women to be protected. Prizes to be won. Political tools to be traded for alliances. So weak they barely count as people, only good to be married or rescued. As helpless as a prisoner waiting for the sword to come down on her neck.

Toph is Earth, and probably knows of these tales. And Suki cannot blame her for the comparison, as much as it sickens her.

But those are the princesses from Suki's childhood, the ones she resents the existence of, the ones she wants nothing to do with. The Princess from Suki's present isn't quite as repulsive. Cruel as the sea, yes, but strong and capable.

If the nickname has to stick, Suki will do her best to grow back out of the shadows of the Spirit tales and into the flames that casted these shadows onto her in the first place.

She bites for the third time into her second piece of meat. She needs strength, enough that no one will have to save her again. Food, and training, honing her body back into a weapon, sharper even that before, and –

A sword would be nice. She doesn't have her fans, but there is a sword she could easily access, and train with, and use to get stronger than just by herself, like an extension of her will to atone.

Like a reminder of her guilt.

Chewing on her meat, she thinks. First things first, she will have to wash off Sokka's blood from the blade. Hookswords – she didn't catch his name, she'll need to ask – probably has metal-care oil. Hopefully the single night spent soaked in blood won't have damaged the blade too much. Then, Suki can train.

She already took a look at the sword on the way there, at how it differs from her usual katana – slightly curved handle to go with the gentle curve of the blade, tip sharpened on both sides to ease thrusting jabs, with the back growing blunt after maybe seven cun – Suki isn't sure, couldn't measure it from up close yet, she will need to make sure – with a blade of about three chi, longer than she is used to.

Training will be necessary.

A scabbard will be too, although Suki has no idea where she will find one.

She swallows after having chewed twelve times.

Toph stretches loudly, pops her neck in a way that makes Suki wince, and then goes so – the six others, no, five, the baby doesn't care, stop eating and all turn to her.

Is no one gonna mention yesterday ?

Suki closes her eyes and counts the silence away in her head.