playinginsand | (no subject)

Entry tags:

rabbithole

(no subject)

Issarok has finished the morning classes and is now free to roam around the palace.

Unfortunately, it's nearly Midwinter, so the palace is dark, and there are Southerners and Firebenders everywhere, all of whom he'd really rather not run into in the dark.

He's sitting in the throne room instead, reading over a scroll of military theory and frowning whenever he finds something he disagrees with. Which appears to be fairly often.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She scowls a little. "It doesn't feel like midday," she tells him. "Though I suppose you have no idea what midday feels like."

Because he's not a Firebender.

Bored with standing in the doorway, she walks straight in towards his table. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm studying," Issarok says, looking slightly confused. He's never noticed that midday felt much different to any other part of the day. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

He doesn't think to offer his. Everyone knows who he is.

The girl raises her chin and gives him as close to a haughty look as she can manage.

"I'm Princess Meila," she says like this shold have been obvious. "I was named for my grandmother, who was the greatest warrior in the whole spirit world.

"My uncle is the Fire Lord so you should know who I am, Prince Issarok."

So NYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAH.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit that was unforgiveable. Issarok blanches a little.

"Forgive me, Princess Meila. It's dark. I didn't recognise you."

Of course she'd be a haughty little brat. Firebenders. He's pictured her something more like her brother, who's civil.

Issarok feels it's quite fair to blame Luwei for this. She would have needed him to take her kids to the toilet just so he didn't meet Meila formally, just so that he was embarrassed now.

Firebenders!

Meila affects a sniff, because forgiving people who have done the unforgiveable is what Princesses do.

"It is dark," she admits, forgiving him in exchange for blaming his stupid city that doesn't have any sunlight.

"What are you studying?"

Issarok hesitates. He's studying The Craft Of War. It's a classic, and he's trying to memorise it. But he's not sure that he should admit that to a Firebender, even if she is only a girl.

"Just work. It's complicated."

If he won't tell her, she's just going to snatch the scroll off him.

"Oh, General Mako," she says. "I'm doing him at the Fire Academy. Did you know he was the great grandfather of Avatar Roku? Who ws my great great great grandfather on my mother's side."

Mako is actually more closely her ancestor on her father's side, but that doesn't bring the Avatar into her lineage.

Issarok's sister (well, cousin, but sister really) is the moon. He's not impressed. So there.

(well, maybe a little impressed.)

"That's nice." Dear.

Melaka could kick Yue's ass. This are a fact that Meila knows from her learnings.

(Meila is convinced that Melaka could kick the combined asses of Avatar Aang, Toph Bei Fong and Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. With her hands tied behind her back.)

She scowls at his attitude, but can't think of a decent comeback.

"My brother says you took him and my Mom and sister to the facilities instead of greeting the Fire Lord when he arrived."

Issarok sits back down, in order to be able to look down his nose at her without looking like he's doing it.

"A proper prince has many duties, Princess. Of course I did."

Stupid brat.

"I would have thought that was a job for a servant."

And not someone who sits in the presence of a Fire Nation Princess. Meila scowls at him openly when he does that.

"Maybe you don't have servants up here. Or maybe, my Mom wanted to talk to you on her own."

EYING.
Guess who's brother and sister won't tell her want they talked about on the boat?

"I wouldn't want to dishonour your mother and brother by sending a servant with them," Issarok says calmly. "We have a little more respect for royalty than that here in the Water Tribe."

He has a feeling he was Talked To on the boat, and that he doesn't understand how it happened or why at all.

More eying. She's still only eleven years old, but she's determined to get better at it.

"What did you talk about?"

Issarok is incredibly tempted to say 'you' and then refuse to tell her any more.

"Many things, Princess. Mostly how good it is to have them here in the North."

Or something like that, anyway.

Meila gives him her best approximation of a sarcastic smile.

"That was diplomacy, right? Means it's a lie."

Issarok narrows his eyes at her.

"You should study diplomacy a little more, maybe."

Meila give her head a tiny little toss that makes her queue shake more than her head itself.

"I'm right, though."

So there.

"You're a child," Issarok points out, tolerantly. "Of course you're not right. You'll learn, though."

Meila's eyes narrow. Then narrow further because she'd usually be feeling fire build up at this point.

It's strange, feeling anger without fire.

"I don't thiink you really want us here."

Issarok presses his lips together in a thin line. "I welcome all the nations to our home in friendship."

"That's not the same thing."

Says the eleven year old.

"Your presence honours us," Issarok says, stiffly. "Fire Princess Meila, are you accusing me of something?"

'cause that would be rude.

Meila rolls her eyes.

"No," she said. "I said it outright."

Issarok's not that bright, is he?

Issarok stares at her, considering his next move.

It would be much easier to challenge her to a duel if she was a little older. And not a girl. And not, technically, here on an invitation extended by his family.

And not related to his future wife. And not likely to get him in trouble with the terrifying Luwei.

"That ... wasn't polite of you," he decides on, eventually. "Your manners are not very good, child."

"Least I don't pretend that it's good to see people who I don't like."

So nyuh.

"That's not polite, either."