#Barda was giving me enough trouble as it was

[wirtsauce4020]

"It's... the Belt of Deltora?"

screenshot redraw, using my design (more doodles under the cut)

I haven't drawn Jasmine at all since the lineup I did, which is something I need to remedy ASAP

[norahjakobs]

But forgive me if you can

Maxwell thinks about Micheal, a lot. And how that keeps hurting him.

Here’s some Michael Carter/Maxwell Lord angst for y’all

This is set in Earth-627 so not everything is following exact canon events but I think everything is explained pretty well

Also this is a songfic for the song Sante Fe by Autoheart

They had first met in his office, a man looking for fame and recognition pleading for assistance in gaining those things with a man looking for the perfect pawn. It was a match made by luck, good or bad he still pondered to the day.

‘You were like a present I should not have kept’

It became a personal project afterwards. He was proud of them all, how couldn’t he be? They were to put it frankly, his magnum opus. And what saved him from himself in the end, made him realize the awful truth of what he was doing. And when the consequences came biting back they were the ones that found him.

But he’s always been the proudest of Micheal. He probably was the first one that saw potential in Micheal, and oh how that potential was followed through on. Sure the man was… irritating at times, especially when doing his shtick with Ted.

But when the cards were down, when things got bad he did good work, respectable work.

‘A sticker on your forehead saying ‘breakable’’

But it was clear he was looking for recognition, looking for something he had not ever been given. It was an open book to read that Micheal needed love, anyone that paid attention would have known that. But very few people ever paid that attention.

He had paid that attention. But he didn’t know how to show him that love he needed. There was always that barrier of the power he knew he held over Micheal. And there was always that fact that he never learned how to share real love, the type that actually came from the heart. There was a reason he was twice divorced.

But Ted also had paid that attention and he actually did something with that knowledge. He gave the love he could. He was there for thick and thin. Through health and sickness.

But it had been him in that hotel room. It was him that touched him like that. It was a perfect movie with the wrong cast.

‘And I broke you bad’

It was only one time, that’s all he could willed himself to do. He still looked at Michael like that, but each time he forced himself to look away. It was one time.

He scrubbed his hands of it. It felt wrong. It felt too close. Too intimate. The only thing to do was push it out of his mind.

Micheal probably didn’t even think about it anymore, maybe he hopes Micheal doesn’t. But something in his heart aches at the idea.

He should just stick to his heart of steel. It doesn’t ever fail him.

‘Waking up to nothing on New Year’s day’

It’s failed him. It always fails him and yet he always goes back to it. Hoping the pain will dull out.

He has to wonder if Micheal ever thinks about it.

He has to wonder if Michael ever wishes it went further.

Lying in bed staring at the ceiling thinking of one of his co-workers like this is not what he ever thought he’d be doing but yet that’s what was happening. The old Maxwell Lord would have scoffed at this.

But the old Maxwell Lord was shot by Kil%re and bled out, bled out of his system so fresh, better blood could pump through his heart.

So he could have a heart.

‘Thinking of a holiday to Santa Fe’

He should at least check a few things off his bucket list. He doesn’t have a lot of time, the doctors said a couple months but he could sense their unsureness.

And using his powers... Well while he was forcing them to share the full truth they said it might happen suddenl-

‘To get over us’

What was happening? Who were these people? Why was everything so dark? It was just waves and waves of confusion crashing over him. He was screaming, his throat was going hoarse and he wasn’t even sure if the message was getting across.

It took nearly a year to piece his own mind back together locked in that dark room. Whispers of people outside of steel doors. It not been his favor to regain his sense of self.

But he had. Clinging onto the memory of the team, of his friends. Clinging onto the idea that they were looking for him.

Clinging.

‘The gods of justice spoke’

There was another him, he had his guesses on how. Top one being Kil%re coming back to haunt him. No matter what he’s done in his life he’s never going to get away from that mistake. He probably didn’t deserve to, his choice years ago costed a man his life and resulted in several others nearly paying with their lives.

And he had made that choice of his own free will.

But apparently the hero community were the ones who had to pay the interest on this debt. Ted nearly died and only luck saved him in the end. Wonder Woman was declared responsible for a man’s death. The world nearly got destroyed.

And that other him, a fake, a twin. Was dead. What to make of that. What can a person make of that? But most unfortunately he ran their name through the mud.

Maxwell Lord would be remembered as a traitor, terrorist, the villain.

Nobody would be coming for him.

Ra’s would be getting what he wanted. An agent in the shadows that could change anyone's minds. There wasn’t any way he could say no. The others might be remembering him as a villain but that didn’t mean he’d be willing to be responsible for their loved ones getting harmed.

‘And I got what I deserved’

He had done digging on the other him. A clone, a cyborg. Really just following through on what Kil%re had started with him. But most troubling it seemed that the control Kil%re had over him was minimal, there was some part in Maxwell that would have done the exact same things given the chance.

It disgusted him to know how little he had actually learned over the years. How he apparently still needed to learn the same lesson.

Then suddenly everyone forgot everything. Maxwell Lord was no more. He made sure that Ra’s would never remember what happened, he couldn’t risk it. Then he fled into the night, right back into the shadows he had grown so comfortable in.

A life of hiding was what he deserved, he did have full blame for what happened during the crisis, it’d be ridiculous to pin it all on himself. But had the roles been switched he very well could have done the same.

‘And when you saw me’

He had confirmed what he suspected. Micheal hated him, hated him like the mouse hated the cat, like the bug hated the spider, like the pleasant hated the king.

Natural, common sense, would make no sense not to.

But he didn’t hate him back, why would he? The last time they had seen each other they were friends, teammates, co-workers, a perfect what if.

But Barda had said she overheard some things at Sanctuary, some things that Micheal said, some things Ted had said, and some things Scott had heard then mentioned.

It was proof enough. Even in a game of telephone the general idea is kept. And the idea is that Micheal hates him, hates him for trying to kill his best friend, his anchor, partner (in mischief).

‘Your hand became an angry fist’

He couldn’t lose Micheals number like how he’d requested it even if he wanted to. It was burned in his brain, one of those things that just couldn’t get pushed out.

Just like the anger he had heard in Micheals voice over the phone. It was pure, it still sounded fresh. That wound had not closed over time, it had stayed raw.

It was such a bad idea to call him up, it wasn’t even necessary. The problem wasn’t even pressing. There’s time, days and days to figure out what to do. But in that first wave of panic he wanted to hear Micheal’s voice, hear something reassuring.

But another thought has washed over him. He’s never going to hear something reassuring from Micheal again. Never going to hear that sparkle in his voice when he’s thrilled. That fake confidence he wore for everyone elses stake when things were bad.

‘I agree with everything that’s coming my way’

From his point of view it’s perfectly fair, more than fair. In his eyes Maxwell Lord is the unrepentant monster that could have taken everything away. If it were someone else he was behaving this way to Maxwell would be full heartedly agreeing with that choice and encouraging it.

Even with some of the things he had done to Micheal that anger would be justified. Lying to him, sending him and the others into a trap, erasing his memory after what happened to Coast City.

Oh how he hates thinking about that moment in his life. He could pin it down as the moment his consciousness started going down the path to becoming the Black King, it’s just that path was cut short for him, interrupted by madness and a grudge. He almost had to thank Ra’s for that interruption.

But the reasons Micheal was angry at him were a lie. Probably one of the best the world has ever been told. There are so few blank spots, so few people that know the truth. Hell he had even helped cover it up. He had just said he was mind controlled when the Checkmate stuff happened, not that it was his evil cyborg clone.

‘But forgive me if you can’

One day he should tell Micheal the full truth, give him the full story to make sense of.

Maybe he’d forgive him.

Maybe he’d still hate him.

Maybe he’d be finally able to forgive himself.

Maybe.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Present and Accounted For

An early Merry Christmas to @super-batgirl! Since you wanted the Batgirl Squad to go Christmas shopping I figured it was best to post this a little early! I hope you enjoy! Rating: G Gen Words: 1,788 AO3

Barbara checked the time in the bottom of her screen again, biting on her bottom lip nervously. It wasn’t like Steph and Cass to be late without telling her about it, even if it was just a few minutes. Her fingers flying over the keyboard Babs did a quick scan to see if there was any trouble that they might have run into on the way. Seeing nothing Barbara slouched back in her chair with a sigh and her brow furrowed.

Just then the front door to Barbara’s apartment/liar flew open with a loud yell from Stephanie. “DECK THE HALLS! We’re heeeeerree!” The blonde rushed in, Cassandra on her heels, and immediately skipped over to Babs.

“You’re late,” she accused, waggling a finger between the two of them.

Cass held up a cupholder with a trio of cups in it. “Brought coffee,” she said by way of explanation.

“And donuts!” Steph chipped in, holding up the bag. “Now c’mon, my butt has been buzzing for the past three blocks. Nell and Tiff are getting impatient.”

Barbara rolled her eyes and grabbed her coat and purse. Cass passed her a scarf with a smile and Barbara picked up her keys. “Dinah, Helena, and Charlie are meeting us there. Zinda is in Maui on vacation. We’re picking up Tiffany and Nell. Am I missing anyone?”

Cass shrugged, giving Babs a smirk. “You know all,” she said innocently. Babs poked her in the side as the elevator made its descent.

“Well Harper had to work, Kate and Bette said thanks for the invite but seeing as how they don’t do Christmas there was no point in them braving the crowds.”

“Smart,” Barbara muttered.

Steph rolled her eyes but continued as Cass snickered. “Did Alysia or Frankie get back to you?”

“Yeah, they’re both going to be getting lunch with us, but Frankie had a meeting for Gordon Clean Energy and Alysia and her wife were decorating this morning.”

“Ooooh, domestic life. Must be fun,” Steph laughed.

“I wouldn’t know, the kids I take care of all insist on decking villains rather than decking the halls,” she replied smoothly.

Steph blushed but chuckled and Cass leaned down to plant a kiss on Barbara’s cheek. “Here now. Close enough.”

Barbara reached out and wrapped her arms around the girls’ waists, pulling them in for a quick hug as the elevator dinged open into the clocktower’s underground parking garage. They both gave her a quick squeeze back before hopping out the door and rushing toward her van, arguing over who got shotgun with Cass expertly holding their still hot drinks out of the way of Steph’s flailing arms.

Barbara pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Dinah, warning her they were on their way, before getting herself situated behind the wheel. Cass won the front seat debate so Steph was leaning forward, practically sitting on the center counsel as they drove. Once they picked up Nell, Barbara was able to raise an eyebrow at Steph in the rearview mirror before glancing over at the younger girl, effectively getting Steph to sit like a proper human.

Nell chattered excitedly and thanked Steph and “Miss Barbara” for inviting her along for the day. She was even more excited when they picked Tiffany up, Lucius giving the two youngest girls money for candy with a smile.

“I thought Luke said you were anti-sugar?” Barbara asked, genuinely curious.

He shrugged and smiled easily back at her. “Only when I’m the one dealing with the sugar’s after effects.”

She laughed, promised to have Tiff home before dinner, and they were on their way.

Once they reached the mall Cass passed out the coffees to Babs and Steph, she had gotten tea for herself, while Steph opened the box of mini donuts for everyone to pick from. They had just reached the mall’s entrance when Barbara felt something slam into her from behind. Her shoulders were quickly enveloped in a hug and her vision was obscured by a mess of dark red hair.

“Hey there Charlie,” she laughed and hugged the girl back.

“Missed you boss. The mission was fun but man is it good to be home,” Charlie smiled as she pulled back. The freckles on her nose disappearing as she wrinkled it.

“There she is! Our supreme leader! The one, the only, Barbara Gordon!” Dinah called, holding up a coffee cup of her own. Helena rolled her eyes and tugged on the end of Dinah’s long blue scarf.

“Zinda sends her best. She barely touched down to drop us off, where did you send her for Christmas anyway?” Helena asked, holding the door open and shepherding them all inside.

“Oh you know, some place sunny and tropical. With shirtless men serving alcohol. Zinda’s dream locale,” Babs smirked at her friends while Steph and Cass snorted behind her.

“So she gets a tropical vacation and we get Christmas shopping in Gotham? I’d like to issue an official complaint,” Dinah said dryly.

“Just because you don’t like the crowds doesn’t mean you can complain about the company,” Steph snarked. She waggled her finger at Dinah as Cass stood behind her dramatically rolling her eyes.

Dinah sighed and took a sip of her coffee. She slung an arm around Steph’s shoulders and began to manhandle the younger blonde further into the mall. Babs couldn’t help but snort and share a look with Cass who shook her head, causing her short hair to flair out. Cass then held out her free hand to Tiff who eagerly took it, swinging their arms. Charlie waved to Nell, who quickly began asking her all about the Birds of Prey’s latest mission. Helena walked beside Barbara as she began to navigate the busy shopping mall in her wheelchair, glaring at people too rude to even bother with stepping even slightly to the side.

“Why exactly did you want us to all go Christmas shopping together?” Helena asked. She glared at a group of teenagers who nearly ran right into Barbara. Babs smiled up at her in thanks. “I mean, I need to get it done but I’m mostly shopping for you, Dinah, Charlie, Zinda, and Barda. Having three out of the five of you here just defeats the purpose a bit.”

Babs shrugged, watching as the rest of their group ducked into a candle shop. “You could always go off with Steph and Cass, they’d be happy to help.”

“I know, I’m just trying to figure out your thought process here.”

“Oh trust me, you don’t want to. It’s scary in here,” Babs pointed to her head and grinned, crossing her eyes as Helena watched. The other woman rolled her eyes and poked Babs lightly on the shoulder.

“Would you two hurry it up?” Dinah called, sticking her head out of the entrance to the store. Babs stuck her tongue out in response, to which Dinah maturely replied with flipping her off.

Next to her Helena snorted and Babs muttered something about disowning all of them.

In the candle store Steph had a candle filled tin in each hand and was sniffing a third on the shelf in front of her. Wrinkling her nose, Steph turned to Cass. “Which one do you think I should get Bruce? Which do you think says ‘I am the embodiment of angst, broodiness, and dads everywhere’: Apple Cinnamon Swirl or Sugar Cookie Carol?”

Cass shook her head slightly before raising her eyebrow at Steph. “What do you think?”

“Well I think that the coupon book I made for each member of your family last year was a brilliant idea but apparently not, so now they’re all getting crappy candles. The turds,” Steph muttered the last part, frowning between the two candles.

Cass failed to stifle a laugh and patted Steph on the back. “This one,” she said and pointed to the apple and cinnamon scented candle.

Steph grinned brightly and placed the rejected candle back on the shelf. “Thank you!”

Cass just shook her head and smiled. She turned to find Tiffany and Nell and see if they wanted to go to the Disney store with her. The three of them just about ran over Helena and Barbara on their way out the door.

By the time they were done in the Disney store all three had managed to buy gifts for their whole family, something Cass was ridiculously proud of. Especially since she knew all of her family would genuinely enjoy their presents. Nell was beaming as she held up the Dalmatian spotted mug for her mom, Tiff oh-ed and ah-ed before showing off her own purchases. Cass couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Lucius, Tam, and Luke opening up their matching Porg plushes. According to Tiff the three of them were obsessed with Star Wars, and it was obvious to Cass that the young girl was obsessed with what looked to her like a space penguin crossed with a hamster.

Cass felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, a message from Barbara asking where they had wandered off to and saying that they needed to start heading to lunch. She sent a quick reply before calling the girls over and offering them each a hand, making sure her shopping bag was slipped over her wrist. Tiffany took Cass’s hand happily, swinging their arms between them. Nell looked at the offered hand, her mouth twisting to the side before she met Cass’s eyes. Cass smiled at her and wiggled her fingers. Nell grinned sheepishly before placing her hand in Cass’s. With a broad grin Cass lead the girls toward the restaurants near the front of the mall.

Babs watched as Cass skipped towards them, Nell and Tiffany in tow. All in all it had been a fairly successful trip. Barbara had gotten presents for all the boys, something she had specifically put off in anticipation of today. Helena had slipped away with Steph at some point and both came back weighed down with bags and smug grins on their faces. Dinah had gotten most of her actual presents and spent the entire day shopping for the gag gifts the Queens always gave each other. Although the kiddy bows with suction cup arrows from the year before were hard to top. Charlie explained that she made all her presents and was just there for the company, which she thoroughly enjoyed by chattering away and giving her opinion and insight on each gift.

As Cass drew nearer Babs eyed the Disney bags that they all carried suspiciously. “So what did you guys get?” she asked Cass, a single brow raised.

The younger girl grinned in response. She shrugged and winked. “Presents,” was all she said.

[withickmire]

under the weight of a legacy

Fandom: Deltora Quest Characters: Anna II, Lief, Jasmine, Endon II, Jarred II, Josef II, mentions of others. Summary: Her parents were like blazing suns in the eyes of the people; bright and brilliant and beautiful. Anna lived in the shadows that they cast. 

It was all Blayss’s fault. There was nothing that boy enjoyed more than getting the other children in trouble, and Anna was his favourite target. She had not been able to pay attention in school at all that day. The room was too hot, and she had not done her assigned work the night before, and so she did not understand the lesson. She had penned a quick note to Min, who sat a few rows away. When Master Petronne turned his back to the class, she had thrown it to her friend. Her aim had not been true, and she had hit Blayss’s head with the paper. Dread had been a heavy lump in her stomach as Blayss grinned and calmly raised his hand to tell Master Petronne. The schoolteacher had sighed and instructed Anna to stay after class.

Anna slumped over her little desk, idly filling in the answers to the mathematical problems on her sheet. She sighed. They were so simple; she could answer them correctly even in her annoyed state. It had been nearly an hour since the other students had left, surely she would be allowed to go home soon.

Attendance at a schoolhouse was mandatory for the children of Del from ages six to twelve, and optional until they were sixteen. In Anna’s family, however, attendance was firmly mandatory for all ten years, something Endon had once protested with foot-stomping and tears after a particularly difficult test.

Anna’s family was huge. Of course there were her parents and brothers and grandparents. But she also had two aunts and two uncles— only one of whom was at all related to her— and all of their many children. Then there was all of her parents’ friends, who buzzed in and out of their lives like bees.

“Blood is important,” her uncle Ranesh had once told her, “but the bonds you form with other people can be just as special, if not more.”

The schoolhouse was one of the largest in the city. Rather than group all of the students in one room, they were split into two classes by age. Master Petronne had gone to the schoolhouse’s other classroom to speak to the schoolmistress who taught the younger children, leaving her under the watch of his teaching assistant.

Anna sighed again, and Josef looked up from where he was correcting grammar exercises at the desk with a sympathetic smile. Although Josef had finished school a few years earlier, he had decided to become a teacher himself, and had taken to shadowing various schoolteachers across the city. Anna had been thrilled when he had eventually been assigned to her class, but despite growing up with many of the children who attended the schoolhouse, Josef took his work very seriously. This, of course, made him the target of much good-natured teasing in their extended family.

Anna reached the end of her worksheet and set her pencil down. She had finished both her unfinished work from the night before, and what Master Petronne had assigned for that evening.  She slumped down in her chair, defeated by boredom.

The sound of chattering boys down the hall broke the silence. Josef looked up from his work and said, “that sounds like your brothers,” at the same time as Anna groaned.

She had hoped to slip home before anyone noticed she was too late, but of course Barda and Lindal’s older children would have told Endon and Jarred why she was not waiting for them in the schoolyard. And of course her brothers would tell their parents.

Footsteps followed the voices, and soon Jarred and Endon tumbled into the schoolroom, followed by Lief and Jasmine. Her parents were hand-in-hand, with their heads turned in towards each other as they spoke. Anna’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. This was the way they had always been, often acting as though they were not two separate beings, but extensions of each other’s bodies. Wide-eyed Jarred was pressed against their father’s side, clearly impressed by the size of the classroom that the older children occupied.

Endon eagerly ran to Anna’s desk, clearly delighted by his sister’s small act of rebellion. “Brid told me you threw something at a boy, is it true?”

“No,” Anna snapped. but that did not impact Endon’s smile. “I just needed to ask Min—“ she broke off, realizing her mother was looking at them with an arched brow. “It was nothing,” she finished weakly.

Jarred broke away from Lief and approached the other side of the desk. His dark eyes were huge with worry. “Are you in trouble?”

Anna looked over at their parents, but they had gone to Josef’s desk, speaking with him in earnest. Jasmine had her hand on Josef’s shoulder and she smiled at something he said. She was very close with his parents, and had a deep fondness for all their children. Lief was listening intently. Neither of them looked angry, but that did not mean they were not. Jasmine’s temper was easy to trigger, and although Lief tended to be calmer, disappointing him was like being crushed by the weight of all the water in the nine seas.

“Why did they come?” Anna asked quietly instead. “If they knew where I was, why did they not just wait for me to come home?”

Endon shrugged. He picked up Anna’s forgotten abandoned pencil and began to draw on the desk. “I heard Father tell Mother that he wanted to speak to you.”

She grabbed the pencil out of his hand and did her best to smear the marks away with the side of her hand, giving Endon a half-hearted glare. Master Petronne returned, and seemed about to give Anna trouble for stopping her work, until he noticed the other occupants of the room.

“Your majesties, what a delightful surprise,” the schoolmaster’s voice dripped with honey, so unlike how he spoke to his students. Anna exchanged a look with Endon, and Jarred bent his head to hide his grin.

“Good afternoon, Master Petronne,” Lief gifted him with a diplomatic smile. “I hear there was a disruption in class today.”

Anna watched her father intently. He had yet to look towards her, and her heart fluttered nervously.

“That is unfortunately true,” Master Petronne said eagerly, clearly pleased to have the king on his side. “The princess did not complete yesterday’s work, and she was passing notes in class, which ended up deeply disturbing one of her classmates. I am sorry that this trouble brought you all the way here.”

Anna fought the urge to roll her eyes.  

“That hardly seems worthy of a punishment,” Jasmine said, as if voicing her thoughts.

Master Petronne’s upper lip twitched. “I will consider your thoughts, your majesty, but I do need to establish order in my schoolroom.”

“Of course,” Lief said hastily. “But how much longer would you say this punishment will last?”

Master Petronne looked towards Anna, who straightened and clasped her hands in what she hoped was the perfect impression of an excellent student.

The schoolmaster ran his hand through his thinning red hair. “I suppose she may leave when she finishes her schoolwork from the past two days.”

“I have,” Anna said with a winning smile. “May I go home?”

—

“I do not like that man,” Jasmine announced as they walked through the schoolyard. Endon grinned, delighted to hear his mother speak ill of a teacher. “He speaks to us with such terrible flattery. It makes me wonder what he could possibly teach his students.”

“It is difficult to find schoolteachers,” Lief said grimly. “Many of the people who grew up under the Shadowlord cannot read or write, and most who can have no interest in the position.”

Anna noted that he had not disagreed, however.

The walk from the schoolhouse to the forge was not long, but walking anywhere with her parents always felt like a journey. Almost everyone the passed had something to say to the king and queen, and Lief and Jasmine stopped for all of them. They wanted to speak to their saviour-king, upon whom the land smiled, and their heroic queen with a past seemingly spun from a tragic fairy-tale.

Every person who approached them did so with shining eyes, especially as they looked upon her father. He was handsome enough, Anna supposed. But there was nothing particularly remarkable-looking about him, expect for some patchy scarring on his face, and of course, the magnificent Belt at his waist. It was for his deeds that the people flocked to him, and for his kindness. He had saved them many times over, and worked tirelessly to turn a city that had once been on the brink of death, into the bustling hub that Anna had always known it to be.

Endon and Jarred ran ahead, and Anna stayed a few paces behind her parents, clutching her schoolbooks to her chest. Watching the people interact with Lief and Jasmine made her feel as small as a mouse. They were like blazing suns in the eyes of Deltora; bright and brilliant and beautiful. Anna lived in the shadows that they cast.

After what seemed like ages, they made their way through the throng of people. Lief said something to Jasmine and she nodded and let go of his hand. She stopped and turned around, causing Anna to nearly bang into her side. Jasmine gave her a quick kiss on the side of her cheek. At thirteen, Anna was of the same height as her mother, and not done growing.

“You only have three more years of school left,” Jasmine said. “Be brave.” She turned and hurried after the boys, leaving Anna and Lief alone.

“This way,” her father cocked his head down a side street. Anna gave him a little smile; she knew this game. No one knew the winding streets and alleys of Del as Lief did. He felt it was his duty to be among the people, more importantly, he liked it. But on rare occasions, if he needed to move in peace or in haste, he would use that knowledge to his advantage.

Anna quickly followed him away from the noisy street, and behind rows of crowded houses. They reached an empty alley lined by the back exits of taverns and tiny shops, and slowed their paces.

“Am I in trouble?” Anna blurted out before she could stop herself.

He looked at her, half-amused. “Should you be?”

She shrugged moodily. It was unfair that she had been caught only because another child wanted to get her in trouble.

“What happened today?”

Anna flushed. “I did not finish my work last night, so I was not paying attention. I wanted to pass a note to Min, because Master Petronne will not let us sit near each other, I hit a boy with it instead and he got me in trouble.”

Lief sighed heavily. “Your grandmother worked very hard to educate me, but I never had the chance to go to a real school. Still, I was lucky; it was a chance that your mother— and many people in the city— did not have. You have a great privilege, Anna, it would serve you very well to take advantage of it.”

She looked away guiltily. She knew all of that, of course, but it had nothing to do with the way she felt.

“I like school sometimes, Father,” she insisted. “I do not like Master Petronne, but we have read some good books, and I can solve mathematical problems very quickly. The only reason I was in trouble was because Blayss— the boy who caught my note— does not like me. He tells the other children that I think that I am better than the rest of them because of who I am.”

Lief paused and looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you think so?”

“No!” Anna clenched her hands into fists. “And I have done nothing to them.”

“They are just jealous,” Min had told her once, boisterously bumping their shoulders together. “Pay them no mind.”

But what could they possibly be jealous of? They did not have the weight of her family’s legacy on their shoulders.

She took a deep breath, and leaned against a brick wall. The alley carried a bad smell, and the wall was undoubtably filthy, but Anna did not care. It suddenly felt necessary that he know the truth. “In school, the teachers and students all talk about you, Mother, Barda, and all of Deltora’s heroes. But the same children who tell stories about you will stop talking when I approach them,” she swiped at the angry tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. “It is far easier for me to keep the friendships with the children I grew up with, rather than make new ones. You want us to act like we are of the people, but what if the people do not want me?”

Lief joined her against the filthy wall.

Tears had spilled down her cheeks, but Anna ignored them. They kept coming, as did her words. “Everyone in the city— in the kingdom— would do anything for you. I am supposed to measure up to you one day, but how can I? It is far easier to not try at all!”

Lief was silent. Before Anna could move away, he leaned close and pulled her into his arms. “I did not know you thought that way,” he said quietly.

“It is true!” Anna’s words were muffled by his jacket.

“No, no,” he stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders. To her surprise, he was smiling. “Children can be cruel, but your classmates do not speak for the people of Deltora. And the people of Deltora do not speak for you.”

She rubbed her nose on her sleeve. “What do you mean?”

Lief began to walk again, placing an arm around her shoulder. He turned right, rather than continuing straight, the path that would take them home. “You are honest and clever and kind. I know you, Anna, and I know all of the good that is in your heart. This schoolyard foolishness will pass, I promise. And until it does, there are plenty of people who love you. Plenty more who do, even if they do not know you. Are you afraid to be queen; is that what you mean?”

Anna leaned against her father, suddenly feeling very tired, and very young. “I will not be like you.”

“No,” Lief agreed, and Anna felt sick. “You will be like you. I have learned many things over my life, and one of the most important lessons is that you cannot compare yourself to others. There are things you will do, that I cannot.”

Anna looked up at him. It seemed impossible that that could be true, but he looked upon her with confidence and pride. “Do you mean that?”

“I swear I do. But you must work hard, all of your life, and that begins at the schoolhouse.”

Anna scuffed her boot into the dusty road. Her anxieties for the future were still there, but the burden of it all felt a little lighter.

Lief guided her down another turn in the road. She frowned, now certain that they were nowhere near home. “It cannot be that all of your schoolmates think this way,” Lief said.

“Maybe not all of them,” Anna agreed begrudgingly.

“And you must tell me— what did the note say?”

Anna’s cheeks burned. It all seemed so silly. “I just wanted to ask Min if she wanted to play after school.”

“That was all?” Lief grinned and she covered her face with her hands. “I can assure you, the mischief I caused when I was your age was far worse.”

“I know. Barda has told me everything.”

“I am sure he has,” Lief grimaced. “It is funny that you should speak of him.”

Anna looked around, and realized that they were in the small road that stretched behind Barda and Lindal’s house. There was a fence and large yard between them and the house, but Anna could still hear a tangle of voices from inside.

“Do you not think Min is waiting for you?” Lief grinned.

Anna thew her arms around him. “Thank you!”

“Just be home for supper. There are enough children in that house as it is.”

“I will,” Anna nodded vigourously.

“But please,” her father looked serious again. “Think about what I said. We should talk about it again very soon. Please do not feel that you need to keep things from me. You can trust me.”

“I know,” Anna held him close again, overcome with fondness. “I love you.”

Lief’s arms tightened, and he said nothing for a long moment. “I love you, too. And I have so much faith in you, Anna. Go, now.”

She let him go, and burst through the gate. There would be time enough to think of duty. But for now she was happy to shake herself free from that weight, just for a little while.

[thefortyeightlawsofpower-blog]

LAW # 2 : NEVER PUT TOO MUCH TRUST IN FRIENDS, LEARN HOW TO USE ENEMIES

JUDGEMENT

Be wary of friends—they will betray you more quickly, for they are easily aroused to envy. They also become spoiled and tyrannical. But hire a former enemy and he will be more loyal than a friend, because he has more to prove. In fact, you have more to fear from friends than from enemies. If you have no enemies, find a way to make them.

TRANSGRESSION OF THE LAW

In the mid-ninth century A.D., a young man named Michael III assumed the throne of the Byzantine Empire. His mother, the Empress Theodora, had been banished to a nunnery, and her lover, Theoctistus, had been murdered ; at the head of the conspiracy to depose Theodora and enthrone Michael had been Michael’s uncle, Bardas, a man of intelligence and ambition. Michael was now a young, inexperienced ruler, surrounded by intriguers, murderers, and profligates. In this time of peril he needed someone he could trust as his councillor, and his thoughts turned to Basilius, his best friend. Basilius had no experience whatsoever in government and politics—in fact, he was the head of the royal stables—but he had proven his love and gratitude time and again.

To have a good enemy, choose a friend: He knows where to strike.

DIANE DE POITIERS. 1499-1566. MISTRESS OF HENRI II OF FRANCE

They had met a few years before, when Michael had been visiting the stables just as a wild horse got loose. Basilius, a young groom from peasant Macedonian stock, had saved Michael’s life. The groom’s strength and courage had impressed Michael, who immediately raised Basilius from the obscurity of being a horse trainer to the position of head of the stables. He loaded his friend with gifts and favors and they became inseparable. Basilius was sent to the finest school in Byzantium, and the crude peasant became a cultured and sophisticated courtier.

Every time I bestow a vacant office I make a hundred discontented persons and one ingrate.

Louis XIV, 1638-1715

Now Michael was emperor, and in need of someone loyal. Who could he better trust with the post of chamberlain and chief councillor than a young man who owed him everything?

Basilius could be trained for the job and Michael loved him like a brother. Ignoring the advice of those who recommended the much more qualified Bardas, Michael chose his friend.

Thus for my own part l have more than once been deceived by the person I loved most and of whose love, above everyone else’s, I have been most confident. So that I believe that u may be right to love and serve one person above all others. according to merit and worth, but never to trust so much in this tempting trap of friendship as to have cause to repent of it later on.

BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE, 1478-1529

Basilius learned well and was soon advising the emperor on all matters of state. The only problem seemed to be money—Basiiius never had enough. Exposure to the splendor of Byzantine court life made him avaricious for the perks of power. Michael doubled, then tripled his salary, ennobled him, and married him off to his own mistress, Eudoxia Ingerina. Keeping such a trusted friend and adviser satisfied was worth any price. But more trouble was to come. Bardas was now head of the army, and Basilius convinced Michael that the man was hopelessly ambitious. Under the illusion that he could control his nephew, Bardas had conspired to put him on the throne, and he could conspire again, this time to get rid of Michael and assume the crown himself. Basilius poured poison into Michael’s ear until the emperor agreed to have his uncle murdered. During a great horse race, Basilius closed in on Bardas in the crowd and stabbed him to death. Soon after, Basilius asked that he replace Bardas as head of the army, where he could keep control of the realm and quell rebellion. This was granted.

Now Basilius’s power and wealth only grew, and a few years later Michael, in financial straits from his own extravagance, asked him to pay back some of the money he had borrowed over the years. To Michael’s shock and astonishment, Basilius refused, with a look of such impudence that the emperor suddenly realized his predicament: The former stable boy had more money, more allies in the army and senate, and in the end more power than the emperor himself. A few weeks later, after a night of heavy drinking, Michael awoke to find himself surrounded by soldiers. Basilius watched as they stabbed the emperor to death. Then, after proclaiming himself emperor, he rode his horse through the streets of Byzantium, brandishing the head of his former benefactor and best friend at the end of a long pike.

THE SNAKE. THE FARMER. AND THE HERON

A snake chased by hunters asked a farmer to save its life. To hide it from its pursuers, the farmer squatted and let the snake crawl into his belly. But when the danger had passed and the farmer asked the snake to come out, the snake refused. It was warm and safe inside. On his way home, the man saw a heron and went up to him and whispered what had happened. The heron told him to squat and strain to eject the snake. When the snake stuck its head out, the heron caught it, pulled it out, and killed it. The farmer was worried that the snake’s poison might still be inside him, and the heron told him that the cure for snake poison was to cook and eat six white fowl. “You’re a white fowl,” said the farmer. “You’ll do for a start.” He grabbed the heron, put it in a bag, and carried it home, where he hung it up while he told his wife what had happened. “I’m surprised at you, ” said the wife. “The bird does you a kindness, rids you of the evil in your belly, saves your life in fact, yet you catch it and talk of killing it. She immediately released the heron, and it flew away. But on its way, it gouged out her eyes.

Moral: When you see water flowing uphill, it means that someone is repaying a kindness.

AFRICAN FOLK TALE

Interpretation

Michael III staked his future on the sense of gratitude he thought Basilius must feel for him. Surely Basilius would serve him best; he owed the emperor his wealth, his education, and his position. Then, once Basilius was in power, anything he needed it was best to give to him, strengthening the bonds between the two men. It was only on the fateful day when the emperor saw that impudent smile on Basilius’s face that he realized his deadly mistake.

He had created a monster. He had allowed a man to see power up close—a man who then wanted more, who asked for anything and got it, who felt encumbered by the charity he had received and simply did what many people do in such a situation: They forget the favors they have received and imagine they have earned their success by their own merits.

At Michael’s moment of realization, he could still have saved his own life, but friendship and love blind every man to their interests. Nobody believes a friend can betray. And Michael went on disbelieving until the day his head ended up on a pike.

Lord, protect me from my friends; I can take care of my enemies.

Voltaire, 1694-1778

OBSERVANCE OF THE LAW

For several centuries after the fall of the Han Dynasty (A.D. 222), Chinese history followed the same pattern of violent and bloody coups, one after the other. Army men would plot to kill a weak emperor, then would replace him on the Dragon Throne with a strong general. The general would start a new dynasty and crown himself emperor; to ensure his own survival he would kill off his fellow generals. A few years later, however, the pattern would resume: New generals would rise up and assassinate him or his sons in their turn. To be emperor of China was to be alone, surrounded by a pack of enemies—it was the least powerful, least secure position in the realm.

In A.D. 959, General Chao K’uang-yin became Emperor Sung. He knew the odds, the probability that within a year or two he would be murdered ; how could he break the pattern? Soon after becoming emperor, Sung ordered a banquet to celebrate the new dynasty, and invited the most powerful commanders in the army. After they had drunk much wine, he dismissed the guards and everybody else except the generals, who now feared he would murder them in one fell swoop. Instead, he addressed them: “The whole day is spent in fear, and I am unhappy both at the table and in my bed. For which one of you does not dream of ascending the throne? I do not doubt your allegiance, but if by some chance your subordinates, seeking wealth and position, were to force the emperor’s yellow robe upon you in turn, how could you refuse it?” Drunk and fearing for their lives, the generals proclaimed their innocence and their loyalty. But Sung had other ideas: “The best way to pass one’s days is in peaceful enjoyment of riches and honor. If you are willing to give up your commands, I am ready to provide you with fine estates and beautiful dwellings where you may take your pleasure with singers and girls as your companions.”

The astonished generals realized that instead of a life of anxiety and struggle Sung was offering them riches and security. The next day, all of the generals tendered their resignations, and they retired as nobles to the estates that Sung bestowed on them.

There are many who think therefore that a wise prince ought, when he has the chance, to foment astutely some enmity, so that by suppressing It he will augment his greatness. Princes, and especially new ones, have found more faith and more usefulness in those men, whom at the beginning of their power they regarded with suspicion, than in those they at first confided in. Pandolfo Petrucci, prince of Siena, governed his state more by those whom he suspected than by others.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, 1469-1527

In one stroke, Sung turned a pack of “friendly” wolves, who would likely have betrayed him, into a group of docile lambs, far from all power.

Over the next few years Sung continued his campaign to secure his rule. In A.D. 971, King Liu of the Southern Han finally surrendered to him after years of rebellion. To Liu’s astonishment, Sung gave him a rank in the imperial court and invited him to the palace to seal their newfound friendship with wine. As King Liu took the glass that Sung offered him, he hesitated, fearing it contained poison. “Your subject’s crimes certainly merit death,” he cried out, “but I beg Your Majesty to spare your subject’s life. Indeed I dare not drink this wine.” Emperor Sung laughed, took the glass from Liu, and swallowed it himself. There was no poison. From then on Liu became his most trusted and loyal friend.

At the time, China had splintered into many smaller kingdoms. When Ch‘ien Shu, the king of one of these, was defeated, Sung’s ministers advised the emperor to lock this rebel up. They presented documents proving that he was still conspiring to kill Sung. When Ch’ien Shu came to visit the emperor, however, instead of locking him up, Sung honored him. He also gave him a package, which he told the former king to open when he was halfway home. Ch’ien Shu opened the bundle on his return journey and saw that it contained all the papers documenting his conspiracy. He realized that Sung knew of his murderous plans, yet had spared him nonetheless. This generosity won him over, and he too became one of Sung’s most loyal vassals.

A brahman, a great expert in Veda who has become a great archer as well, offers his services to his good friend, who is now the king. The brahman cries out when he sees the king, “Recognize me, your friend!” The king answers him with contempt and then explains: “Yes, we were friends before, but our friendship was based on what power we had.... I was friends with you, good brahman, because it served my purpose. No pauper is friend to the rich, no fool to the wise, no coward to the brave. An old friend—who needs him? It is two men of equal wealth and equal birth who contract friendship and marriage, not a rich man and a pauper.... An old friend—who needs him?

THE MAHABHARATA, C. THIRD CENTURY B.C.

Interpretation

A Chinese proverb compares friends to the jaws and teeth of a dangerous animal: If you are not careful, you will find them chewing you up. Emperor Sung knew the jaws he was passing between when he assumed the throne: His “friends” in the army would chew him up like meat, and if he somehow survived, his “friends” in the government would have him for supper. Emperor Sung would have no truck with “friends”—he bribed his fellow generals with splendid estates and kept them far away. This was a much better way to emasculate them than killing them, which would only have led other generals to seek vengeance. And Sung would have nothing to do with “friendly” ministers. More often than not, they would end up drinking his famous cup of poisoned wine.

Instead of relying on friends, Sung used his enemies, one after the other, transforming them into far more reliable subjects. While a friend expects more and more favors, and seethes with jealousy, these former enemies expected nothing and got everything. A man suddenly spared the guillotine is a grateful man indeed, and will go to the ends of the earth for the man who has pardoned him. In time, these former enemies became Sung’s most trusted friends.

Pick up a bee from kindness, and learn the limitations of kindness.

SUFI PROVERB

And Sung was finally able to break the pattern of coups, violence, and civil war—the Sung Dynasty ruled China for more than three hundred years.

In a speech Abraham Lincoln delivered at the height of the Civil War, he referred to the Southerners as fellow human beings who were in error. An elderly lady chastised him for not calling them irreconcilable enemies who must be destroyed. “Why, madam,” Lincoln replied, “do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

KEYS TO POWER

It is natural to want to employ your friends when you find yourself in times of need. The world is a harsh place, and your friends soften the harshness. Besides, you know them. Why depend on a stranger when you have a friend at hand?

Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit, because gratitude is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

TACITUS, c. A.D. 55-120

The problem is that you often do not know your friends as well as you imagine. Friends often agree on things in order to avoid an argument. They cover up their unpleasant qualities so as to not offend each other. They laugh extra hard at each other’s jokes. Since honesty rarely strengthens friendship, you may never know how a friend truly feels. Friends will say that they love your poetry, adore your music, envy your taste in clothes—maybe they mean it, often they do not.

When you decide to hire a friend, you gradually discover the qualities he or she has kept hidden. Strangely enough, it is your act of kindness that unbalances everything. People want to feel they deserve their good fortune. The receipt of a favor can become oppressive: It means you have been chosen because you are a friend, not necessarily because you are deserving. There is almost a touch of condescension in the act of hiring friends that secretly afflicts them. The injury will come out slowly: A little more honesty, flashes of resentment and envy here and there, and before you know it your friendship fades. The more favors and gifts you supply to revive the friendship, the less gratitude you receive.

Ingratitude has a long and deep history. It has demonstrated its powers for so many centuries, that it is truly amazing that people continue to underestimate them. Better to be wary. If you never expect gratitude from a friend, you will be pleasantly surprised when they do prove grateful.

The problem with using or hiring friends is that it will inevitably limit your power. The friend is rarely the one who is most able to help you; and in the end, skill and competence are far more important than friendly feelings. (Michael III had a man right under his nose who would have steered him right and kept him alive: That man was Bardas.)

PROFITING BY OUR ENEMIES

King Hiero chanced upon a time, speaking with one of his enemies, to be told in a reproachful manner that he had stinking breath. Whereupon the good king, being somewhat dismayed in himself, as soon as he returned home chided his wife, “How does it happen that you never told me of this problem?” The woman, being a simple, chaste. and harmless dame, said, “Sir, l had thought all men breath had smelled so.” Thus it is plain that faults that are evident to the senses, gross and corporal, or otherwise notorious to the world, we know by our enemies sooner than by our friends and familiars.

PLUTARCH, C. A.D. 46-120

All working situations require a kind of distance between people. You are trying to work, not make friends; friendliness (real or false) only obscures that fact. The key to power, then, is the ability to judge who is best able to further your interests in all situations. Keep friends for friendship, but work with the skilled and competent.

Your enemies, on the other hand, are an untapped gold mine that you must learn to exploit. When Talleyrand, Napoleon’s foreign minister, decided in 1807 that his boss was leading France to ruin, and the time had come to turn against him, he understood the dangers of conspiring against the emperor; he needed a partner, a confederate—what friend could he trust in such a project? He chose Joseph Fouché, head of the secret police, his most hated enemy, a man who had even tried to have him assassinated. He knew that their former hatred would create an opportunity for an emotional reconciliation. He knew that Fouché would expect nothing from him, and in fact would work to prove that he was worthy of Talleyrand’s choice; a person who has something to prove will move mountains for you. Finally, he knew that his relationship with Fouché would be based on mutual self-interest, and would not be contaminated by personal feeling. The selection proved perfect; although the conspirators did not succeed in toppling Napoleon, the union of such powerful but unlikely partners generated much interest in the cause; opposition to the emperor slowly began to spread. And from then on, Talleyrand and Fouché had a fruitful working relationship. Whenever you can, bury the hatchet with an enemy, and make a point of putting him in your service.

As Lincoln said, you destroy an enemy when you make a friend of him. In 1971, during the Vietnam War, Henry Kissinger was the target of an unsuccessful kidnapping attempt, a conspiracy involving, among others, the renowned antiwar activist priests the Berrigan brothers, four more Catholic priests, and four nuns. In private, without informing the Secret Service or the Justice Department, Kissinger arranged a Saturday-morning meeting with three of the alleged kidnappers. Explaining to his guests that he would have most American soldiers out of Vietnam by mid-1972, he completely charmed them. They gave him some “Kidnap Kissinger” buttons and one of them remained a friend of his for years, visiting him on several occasions. This was not just a onetime ploy: Kissinger made a policy of working with those who disagreed with him. Colleagues commented that he seemed to get along better with his enemies than with his friends.

Without enemies around us, we grow lazy. An enemy at our heels sharpens our wits, keeping us focused and alert. It is sometimes better, then, to use enemies as enemies rather than transforming them into friends or allies.

Mao Tse-tung saw conflict as key in his approach to power. In 1937 the Japanese invaded China, interrupting the civil war between Mao’s Communists and their enemy, the Nationalists.

Fearing that the Japanese would wipe them out, some Communist leaders advocated leaving the Nationalists to fight the Japanese, and using the time to recuperate. Mao disagreed: The Japanese could not possibly defeat and occupy a vast country like China for long. Once they left, the Communists would have grown rusty if they had been out of combat for several years, and would be ill prepared to reopen their struggle with the Nationalists. To fight a formidable foe like the Japanese, in fact, would be the perfect training for the Communists’ ragtag army. Mao’s plan was adopted, and it worked: By the time the Japanese finally retreated, the Communists had gained the fighting experience that helped them defeat the Nationalists.

Years later, a Japanese visitor tried to apologize to Mao for his country’s invasion of China. Mao interrupted, “Should I not thank you instead?” Without a worthy opponent, he explained, a man or group cannot grow stronger.

Mao’s strategy of constant conflict has several key components. First, be certain that in the long run you will emerge victorious. Never pick a fight with someone you are not sure you can defeat, as Mao knew the Japanese would be defeated in time. Second, if you have no apparent enemies, you must sometimes set up a convenient target, even turning a friend into an enemy. Mao used this tactic time and again in politics. Third, use such enemies to define your cause more clearly to the public, even framing it as a struggle of good against evil. Mao actually encouraged China’s disagreements with the Soviet Union and the United States; without clear-cut enemies, he believed, his people would lose any sense of what Chinese Communism meant. A sharply defined enemy is a far stronger argument for your side than all the words you could possibly put together.

Never let the presence of enemies upset or distress you—you are far better off with a declared opponent or two than not knowing where your real enemies lie. The man of power welcomes conflict, using enemies to enhance his reputation as a surefooted fighter who can be relied upon in times of uncertainty.

Image: The Jaws of Ingratitude. Knowing what would happen if you put a finger in the mouth of a lion, you would stay clear of it. With friends you will have no such caution, and if you hire them, they will eat you alive with ingratitude.

Authority: Know how to use enemies for your own profit. You must learn to grab a sword not by its blade, which would cut you, but by the handle, which allows you to defend yourself. The wise man profits more from his enemies, than a fool from his friends. (Baltasar Gracián, 1601-1658)

REVERSAL

Although it is generally best not to mix work with friendship, there are times when a friend can be used to greater effect than an enemy. A man of power, for example, often has dirty work that has to be done, but for the sake of appearances it is generally preferable to have other people do it for him; friends often do this the best, since their affection for him makes them willing to take chances. Also, if your plans go awry for some reason, you can use a friend as a convenient scapegoat. This “fall of the favorite” was a trick often used by kings and sovereigns: They would let their closest friend at court take the fall for a mistake, since the public would not believe that they would deliberately sacrifice a friend for such a purpose. Of course, after you play that card, you have lost your friend forever. It is best, then, to reserve the scapegoat role for someone who is close to you but not too close.

Finally, the problem about working with friends is that it confuses the boundaries and distances that working requires. But if both partners in the arrangement understand the dangers involved, a friend often can be employed to great effect. You must never let your guard down in such a venture, however; always be on the lookout for any signs of emotional disturbance such as envy and ingratitude. Nothing is stable in the realm of power, and even the closest of friends can be transformed into the worst of enemies.