playinginsand | (no subject)

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rabbithole

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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.

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The time with her family, which Sakari had hoped would calm all the butterflies in her stomach, has actually just multiplied them. Except for Lu - Lu, who is rapidly becoming Sakari's very favorite person in the world. Lu, who she can talk to without worrying about someone getting punched or agonizing over where they went wrong with Sakari herself.

And who has some rather good ideas.

After her morning training and heading back to her rooms to get cleaned up, Sakari is walking smoothly down the halls. She has some lessons to catch up on, though they're more for her free time than anything. After combat and healing sessions, the Northern tutors didn't have much interest in teaching her history or politics, so she often wanders into the library to do some reading by herself.

Today, though, on her way over there, she catches sight of the prince in the throne room. And, well... Lu was right. You don't get to know anybody without talking to them first.

She steps into the room and curtsies, as deep as is considered respectful, for both of their stations. "Prince Issarok."

"Princess Sakari." Issarok puts his scroll aside quickly and gets to his feet, bowing.

Sakari-- hesitates for a moment. For once, her attendants and his are off. This might actually be the first time they've been alone together-- ever. And if she doesn't talk to him now, she may not have another chance before they're married, or at least before they're invited to the Fire Nation.

Straightening, she smiles. Her eyes fall on the scroll and she relaxes a little in relief. A topic! "Are you studying?"

"Yes." He looks at the scroll as if it might provide escape. Or at least, a topic. "General Mako's military theorems."

... that appears to be his entire response.

Crap, he's going to make her work for it, isn't he?

"Oh?" She approaches slowly, hesitant, but still smiling hopefully. "Which edition?"

She isn't leaving. Why isn't she leaving? She's a girl. Girls don't care about tactics.

"... the third," he says hesitantly, and offers her the scroll, both hands, polite and serious-faced.

Her smile actually widens a little. Because if he's offering her the scroll, he must think she's at least capable of understanding it. Her father is wrong, he just doesn't know it yet.

Bowing her head slightly in thanks, Sakari takes the scroll and looks over it with interest. "I'm only on the second," she admits after a moment's perusal, glancing up at him with a somewhat self-deprecating smile. "I've heard there were vast improvements in the third. But the North relies more on General Anuun's theorems now, don't you?"

Issarok looks at her, blank and polite.

"Well, yes. Mako is Fire Nation. We learn their tactics, but we don't use them." Dear girl might as well have been added to the end of that sentence.

Sakari blinks at him, taken off-guard by the tone.

"Oh." She frowns a little, confused - why learn the tactics of the Fire Nation if not to learn from them, for possible future use as much as defense - but nods all the same. She tries for another smile, and a joke of sorts. "Well, you're not using any tactics at all at the moment."

Or anywhere in the near future!

Issarok laughs, politely. "Well, no. We're not at war now." Dear.

"May I?" He reaches for the scroll. "These are quite valuable, and rare. I could show you the library, if you'd like."

Sakari hesitates again. There's something about his tone she's not sure of, but it's too alien for her to really react to it. It kind of makes her want to slap him.

She's never been spoken to like that before.

But... well, if she's going to learn anything about him, they need to spend time together. Nodding, Sakari carefully rolls the scroll back up the proper way and hands it back to him. "I would like that very much, thank you."

She's not too bad, Issarok decides. A bit slow, and she's obviously been listening to men talk about Anuun and Mako's work, but that's OK, he guesses. She's not improper.

He offers her his arm and smiles. "Just this way."

She smiles back at him and takes his arm gracefully. This is good - this will work. At least until her handmaidens realize she's missing and come looking for her, they'll have time to get to know each other.

"Do you often study alone?" she asks as they step into the hallway, looking up at him. "I'd think it'd be easier to use all the tutors available."

"I work with tutors in the morning," he explains, "but I like to work on my own, too. One doesn't always enjoy having someone look over one's shoulder."

Sakari looks vaguely amused for him using 'one' to describe himself, smiling - but when she catches the serious look on his face, she tries to hide it.

Perhaps unsuccessfully.

"Mmm. So your tutors are available in the afternoons?"

So when she has questions about crazy Northern history scrolls, there are people to ask?

"Well, I suppose so." Issarok shrugs with the shoulder away from her, opening the library door. "I imagine they do other things then."

He doesn't know or care, really. They're just teachers.

"Mmm."

It's something to keep in mind. Issarok seems so busy all the time, Sakari would be hesitant to ask him any questions, even if he's obviously more versed in the material than she is. She'll have to look into the tutors.

Entering the library is-- not especially impressive. No, really. It's a lovely, expansive, expensive room but Sakari has spent most of her afternoons in this room since arriving in the North. No way is she going to be princess of a nation she knows nothing about, after all.

He seems quite pleased with her reaction or lack of, though. After all, she's just a girl.

"This is the section where the Craft of War books are. We also have some history scrolls. It's all quite interesting."

Sakari smiles a little at his description and nods. "Yes, I know. Your collection is very impressive. It's something I wish the South would adopt, real history records."

It's hard to learn about the south when all the history is oral-history and some things are surely embellished.

Issarok laughs politely. (He's surprised they can even read.)

"Perhaps we can encourage your tribe to take up recording history."

You know. When he's in charge.

Except he said we. Obviously, it's a project they can work together on.

Sakari smiles and looks a little pleased about this, nodding. "It probably won't take much work to convince my father. I just hope there are some people secretly interested in becoming scribes. I've heard it's tedious work."

It might have been a royal 'we.' Not that he'd ever contradict a woman. (Why bother?)

"Oh, there are plenty here. Mostly women, of course, but they do quite good work. Smaller hands, I suppose."

Sakari blinks and her eyebrows drop with some confusion. "Smaller hands mean more interest in the job?"

Polite laughter again. "No, no." Dear. "Merely that they're more suited to making tiny letters, of course."

Blinking again, Sakari's face breaks into a smile, shortly followed by laughter. "Well, but it's not like people are pushed into the job because of that."

Because that's how he's making it sound, which is just silly. Sure, the South used to break up the chores equally between Women's Work and Men's Work but her father's pretty much gotten rid of that in the last twenty years.