#but shame will come on those who are treacherous without cause

[aspirant1598]

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part five)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: a party from hell.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption, emotional hurt / no comfort in this chapter (sorry, she's a little angsty), blackmail, family drama, mentions of minor character death — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

The venue is filled wall to wall with people, half of whom you have not met before this night. They’re swaying to the loud music, talking over one another, and indulging in various colourful drinks from the open bar.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the large space, you’re watching the night unfold in front of your eyes. There’s a drink in your hand, a cranberry vodka, however, you haven’t touched it yet. Instead, the ice has long melted, causing lone droplets of water to drip down your arm.

A harsh scent of alcohol fills the air. It gets stronger every time a party attendee sits next to you, congratulating you on an incredible single with the band they never thought you’d ever play with. You go with the flow, the politeness you’ve been taught from a young age showing its wings, and thank each person that engages with you for coming tonight.

They ask how this all came about, you on a song with Corroded Coffin. A collaboration for the ages. 

You answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge. “The powers that be organised everything”, and the person you’re speaking with laughs at your answer. Then they ask about a topic much hotter than the new record — your relationship with Eddie Munson.

The second the curly-haired rockstar is mentioned, a smile breaches your lips.

“That’s between me and him, for now.”

Which doesn’t stop anyone from trying to invade your privacy further. Wondering, out loud and with no shame, if what they’re reading in the tabloids is true. Is it just for show, or is it real? And then it goes one of two ways:

“Hope I’m invited to the wedding. It’s shaping up to be quite the party.”

“At least you’ll make a lot of money from this arrangement.”

Not one person wishes you well. Not one person says they’re happy for you, or for the Corroded Coffin frontman. It obviously makes you wonder why because you look happy… right? Why is your relationship such a big deal if you’re clearly happy? 

Don’t you look happy?

But then, in between those conversations, your gaze finds Eddie with ease. His own brown eyes land on you every single time, without fail, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of you. He smiles wide, shooting you a casual wink from wherever he’s standing at the time.

And so, you force the treacherous thoughts deep, deep down. Squish them until they’re miniscule and a problem for later — which in retrospect, not a good idea — ‘cause right this moment in time, you’re definitely happy.

Eddie makes you happy.

You’re also just glad to see the rockstar is having fun, considering how reluctant he was to leave the comfort of his own home. He’s mingling and laughing. A pep in his step as he orders another drink. After all, parties are his element.

“God, my poor fucking feet hurt so much,” Holly sighs, dropping down next to you with an elegant bounce. “I honestly don’t know how you can perform in heels for multiple nights in a row when I can’t even make it through a couple of measly hours.”

You laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Okay, Magic Johnson.” Holly snorts while playfully rolling her eyes.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Patrick Ewing,” you correct her, it’s a tease with a slight dramatic flare, “‘Cause who am I if not a New York Knicks fan.”

The giggle that escapes your friend is infectious. In between the lighthearted chuckles, she does her best not to spill the fruity drink in her hand, pressing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She relaxes into the sofa, legs now extended outwards, a hazard to anyone walking by.

“Speaking of New York, when are you taking the rockstar to meet your parents?” Holly probes, brow raised.

“Oh god,” you dramatise in response, “That’s like a super serious thing, no? I don’t think we’re there yet.”

But Holly doesn’t give up as easily, seeing right through the front you didn’t even realise you were putting up. As your best friend, she knows you better than anyone. That includes moments like these, when you’re minimising feelings out of fear.

“Babe, be for real. He has already met your grandma and she’s arguably a lot more important than your parents.” Holly states, taking another quick sip of her cocktail. “No offence to Alicia and Brad, but we all know your family is ruled by the little lady who already hates your boyfriend.”

You sigh. She’s obviously right.

“So, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna take him home?”

Glancing over at Eddie, who’s lost in conversation with the producers of your record, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering what to say to her. “Because I’m scared it’s all moving too fast,” would be an appropriate answer to the question, but then again that’s not entirely true.

Holly nudges your arm and you turn your attention back to her immediately.

“I’ve just been really happy in our little bubble these last few months and I’m afraid if we venture further out into the real world, we’ll lose that feeling.”

Raw, honest. It’s a scary thing to say, but Holly doesn’t judge. She never does. Instead, her arm makes way around your shoulders and she squeezes you lightly when your head rests against her skin.

“With the way the two of you look at one another, I bet my sanity that you’ll be together for a very long time.”

And you hope she’s right.

Eddie walks up to where you’re sitting shortly after, politely asking your friend if he could steal a moment alone with you. Holly of course agrees, saying something about finding Jeff ‘cause he looks mighty fine tonight and she’s a little buzzed, “If you know, you know.”. You watch with a smile as she disappears between the dancing bodies while Eddie sits in the now empty spot, casually placing a hand on your thigh.

“Having fun?”

“I am,” you answer and lean in closer to place a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even more now.”

He smirks at you. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Seems you are too.”

“I am.” Eddie nods, free hand now holding your jaw, as he leans in to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss is short and sweet, but like everything you and the rockstar do, it attracts attention from pretty much everyone in the room. A click of the camera, a flash of light. But neither of you care. Looking instead into each other’s eyes once you pull apart, as if you’re the only people at this party. 

Even though putting a label on things wasn’t entirely necessary, it definitely cemented whatever feelings are floating within your core. And Eddie feels the same way. He actually feels a lot more than he’s willing to admit out loud. Partially because he’s always battled commitment issues, mainly because he’s really afraid of losing you. 

Again.

-

Eddie Munson loved a good party.

This wasn’t always the case, since during his teenage years he was often excluded from every single guest list. Then he started dealing. Suddenly, the metalhead was a hot ticket, and even though people still didn’t care for his company, they liked the stuff he brought. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention — as fake as it may have been.

Once Corroded Coffin made it big, and Eddie realised that people actually wanted to party with him for who he was, and not the drugs he had access too, (although, for some, it was a little bit of both), the rockstar decided he was going to throw the best damn parties Hollywood has ever seen.

It quickly became second nature. Make money, then spend it just as fast so other people can have a good time.

When the drinking, and other activities, got a little out of control, the guys tried to talk some sense into their friend with a little tough love: “Dude, those people don’t give a fuck about you! They only wanna hang out with you, ‘cause you’re rich.”. But Eddie was too far gone and he didn’t care to stop. His house was full of people every single weekend, most of whom he knew, and for the first time in his miserable life, the rockstar felt like the most important person on the goddamn planet. There was no way he was letting go of that feeling.

Then August ‘92 happened.

The evening started off as nothing special. Just another pool party to combat the unbearable Los Angeles heat. It was a common occurrence during the summer months, so Eddie didn’t think that night was going to be any different.

Surrounded by a group of girls that undoubtedly only want to get in his pants, he’s laughing at the unfunny jokes and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to refill his own drinks, the “groupies”, as Marianne calls them, gladly do it for him. 

They’re brushing up against him and flirting with no shame while batting their lashes. Eddie usually eats this shit up. Matter of fact, he should be loving every second of it right now, but his focus has long shifted elsewhere, the girls a mere distraction from the actual object of his attention and desire.

From the corner of his eye, he’s watching you.

Jesus Christ. Eddie can’t believe you came. He can’t believe you’re actually here, at his house, seemingly enjoying yourself. And to say you looked fucking hot would be the understatement of a century. Splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, hiding from the sun, you’re wearing a white cotton blouse and skimpy denim shorts, and Eddie aches for his current conversation to be over so he can go and officially introduce himself to you — like he should have at the Grammys.

“Eds, do you want another drink?”

He barely registers the question, even with the girl who has her hand on his bare bicep, rubbing up and down rather seductively. Instead, the rockstar notices how you stand up and look around the party once, before walking in the direction of his big house. So Eddie thinks that now’s his chance, perhaps the only one he’d get, and following a quick internal monologue to pep himself up, he leaves the group of ladies disappointed, following you inside.

That was almost the last party Eddie threw.

You flipped this switch inside of him, one the rockstar didn’t even know existed. After that night, he no longer wanted attention from just anyone. Taking centre stage in his mind — and heart — was America’s favourite sweetheart. Even when he royally fucked things up, he only thought about you.

Though for a number of lonesome weeks, he wasn’t sure you were thinking about him since his actions proved nothing more than borderline douchey. So Eddie fell back into self-destructive behaviour just as fast as he scrambled out of it. The parties got louder, he became more obnoxious.

September 1992. Saturday Night Live.

That will be a night his band, his management, his friends, and even his fans, will never let Eddie forget. Unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.

The drinks pre-show were free and Eddie had a mountain of feelings he desperately needed to get over, along with memories he wanted to bury deep, until they were nothing but specs of dust, flashes that didn’t resemble anything — especially not you.

He did his best not to slur his words during the live performance, and for the most part, he succeeded. Although that didn’t really matter since anyone in the rockstar's vicinity could clearly tell he was intoxicated. Eddie, leaning half his weight on the microphone, round sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, should have never been allowed to set foot on the stage that night.

Let alone twice.

Under the dim stage light, as they hoped to conclude their last song without a major incident, Eddie’s band mates were exchanging worried glances. The Corroded Coffin frontman had a couple more drinks in between sets and was barely able to follow along with the music.

Thankfully, behind the scenes, Marianne convinced production to shift the cameras away from unravelling Eddie, even switched off his microphone, and the only people left witness to his drunken mess were the folks present physically.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about how he was behaving since the alcohol didn’t numb him like he hoped, instead the thought of you being somewhere in the same city, overpowered his senses. Would it be crazy to hope you were watching? Would it be crazy to think that despite how rudely he treated you, you’d still show up like you both talked about?

Would it be crazy to try and find you? Search New York, high and low, in hopes that someone knows someone, who knows someone else, that knows where you live?

Instead, against his better judgement and everyone else’s rather aggressive protests, Eddie goes to the after party planned in his name.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t come.

His black out was imminent.

The damages done to the restaurant came to just under five thousand dollars. The stress from keeping it out of the press robbed his team about two years of their life, so Marianne says.

And that was the last party Eddie threw. 

Considering how out of control things had gotten, how out of control he had become at some point during the night while thinking about you with every drink that burned down his throat, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Eddie still only thinks about you. Difference being, now, almost a year later, you are attending a party together, and the alcohol no longer tastes like regret.

When he looks at you, like he is right now, under the fluorescent club lights, his heart increases tenfold. He wants to kiss every inch of your face, hold you close because that’s where you belong. 

Things simply got better because he owned up to his mistakes and learned to open himself up to love, as scary as that feeling is sometimes. He’s not second guessing your intentions, because that would be cruel. He just loses himself in his doubts sometimes, since in the past, no pretty girl has given him the time of day without wanting something in return.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie whispers against your lips, thumb gently grazing along your cheekbone. He proceeds to tell you how you make life a little more normal, and he’s grateful for it, despite always wanting fame. You tell him how attention is nothing if it doesn’t come from the right person, and he agrees, brown locks bouncing as he nods his head. Then he kisses you again.

And this kiss is arguably a lot more urgent than the last. Eddie is hovering over you entirely. One hand remains holding onto your face, while the other is on your waist, pushing you deeper into the sofa.

You can hear another click of a camera in the distance and despite your better judgement, that voice in the back of your mind, closely reminiscent of your Nana’s, telling you to push your boyfriend away, you slide your hands up his back and cling closer to him.

An inch of regret courses through your veins the following morning when you receive a call from your quite displeased team, “what the hell were you thinking?!”. You deflect. Unwilling for anyone to burst through the happy bubble you’ve found yourself in, you blame them for poor organisation and security ‘cause who even allows cameras to be brought into a private Hollywood event.

That regret is unfortunately also accompanied by a killer hangover and very little memory of what else has happened the night prior.

The empty spot in bed, usually home to a set of wild brown locks, should have been a warning sign ‘cause Eddie never woke up before you, especially after a party. You find him in the kitchen, at the spot where the two of you first met. His head is in his hands and you’re instantly feeling worried.

The happy bubble threatening to burst.

“Hey,” you croak, hoping to get his attention, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s as still as a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, or your question, and the worry in the pit of your stomach increases tenfold. So you approach him, movements slow due to the banging headache as well as the apprehension given your boyfriend's current position. Only when your hand hesitantly reaches his back, rubbing once downward while you position yourself next to him, Eddie lifts his head and tilts it to the side, finally meeting your eyes.

“Had a good night?” Eddie asks, shifting his stance so that your hand falls down to your side. This should have been a second warning; him trying to avoid physical contact.

“Y-yeah,” you force a smile, thinking that it’s needed, “You?”

“Not really,” he answers a little too quickly.

His brown eyes scan yours, for what exactly, you’re a little too hungover to realise. But the longer he stares at you, the worse you begin to feel. A certain dread spreads through your insides, causing your stomach to drop. What’s happening right now? Actually, what happened in the late hours of last night that’s causing this sudden rift between you and the rockstar.

“What’s going on, Eddie?”

The tone of your voice is so quiet, you’re unsure he’s even heard you. But then a sigh escapes his lips. He briefly glances towards the back door, out towards the pool, before settling his gaze back on your frame.

“I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

Dumbfounded, is a little too plain to explain the feeling that you’re experiencing at this very moment. Betrayed would be a better word, but that would mean Eddie is after saying those things. That he’s really after shattering your entire world in the space of a few mere seconds. Betrayed would mean your gut instinct, the one you have ignored ever since you’ve met the Corroded Coffin frontman, was always correct: he was no good.

Used, is how you begin to feel as Eddie continues to list reasons for why he can’t actually be your boyfriend and how you’re better off simply being friends with benefits, or whatever it is the two of you had been over the last few months. Used fuels the anger inside of you because, to you, deceit is worse than cheating. And he seems so nonchalant about it, which only adds to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie stops mid another lame excuse and for the first time this morning, he reaches for your hands, fingers gently grazing against your skin, which only adds to the pain you’re beginning to endure. 

“Sweetheart…”

“No, no.”

You retreat, unwilling to let the rockstar hold you since he’s after breaking your heart like it was worth nothing — Jesus H. Christ, this is some sick and twisted deja vu.

Instead, you cross your arms across your chest like a shield while taking a step away from the man you realised now you definitely loved, yet one that clearly didn’t love you.

“I-I guess I’m just confused as to what’s changed since last night—”

“I’m not the relationship type,” Eddie cuts in, repeating what he’s already said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything towards you. I like you, sweetheart. A lot.”

“Eddie, come on,” you scoff, tears threatening to breach through the confines of their home, “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now? If you feel something towards me, I-I don’t get how being called my boyfriend and being exclusive with me is the worst thing on the planet.”

When he doesn’t immediately reply, you continue.

“Unless that’s it. You don’t want to be exclusive because the thought of keeping your dick in your pants when I’m not around is too difficult, or having other people throw themselves at you and not immediately act on it is something Eddie Munson simply cannot do.”

“That’s not it,” the rockstar interjects.

“Then fucking enlighten me, Eddie, because you’re making no fucking sense right now!”

Again, he doesn’t say anything. And it’s precisely because he’s not showing any willingness to be honest with you right this moment, after endless prior conversations about how that’s the one thing he will always be, you decide for your own sanity that this isn’t a relationship you can fight for.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Three words you’ve spoken to him before, only this time they hold a lot more weight. This time, they signal an end to something that was only after getting a proper beginning. The end of America’s favourite popstar and the Corroded Coffin frontman — a headline that broke on Page Six the very next morning.

Eddie watches you leave. Frozen in his spot as you rush back to the bedroom the two of you have shared the last few months. And his heart aches because unbeknown to you, this is not what he wanted to happen.

Unbeknown to you, this is not how he actually feels. He doesn’t want to end things with you so soon after they’ve begun. He wants you. He wants to be your boyfriend, if not more.

He just can’t.

Last night’s party was the main catalyst behind the rockstar’s actions this morning. The attendance of a certain someone that wasn’t actually invited was a shock to Eddie’s drunken system, and the reason behind why he simply can’t tell you anything, especially the truth.

(Not right now anyway.)

-

Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde was the only person Eddie loved before meeting you. 

Despite not ever being anything more than friends, at least on a physical level, for the longest time, Chrissy was Eddie’s only supporter. The only person to show him kindness and shower him with care he undoubtedly deserved.

Chrissy encouraged Eddie to follow his dreams, pursue a career in music, because out of everyone in Hawkins, she truly believed in his talent.

Then she died.

Suddenly, Eddie was not only left with a hole in his heart, but he also found himself at the centre of a murder investigation. Despite being declared innocent, her death nothing but a freak accident, the scars on the rockstar’s body remind him of the events of March ‘86 to this very day.

He told you a little about what happened, just failed to mention Chrissy. Not for any particular reason, he just doesn’t talk about her as a rule — unwilling to reopen the wounds he so desperately tried to heal over the years.

And because he doesn’t talk about Chrissy, or mention her name and what she meant to him, Eddie never expected her to be brought up.

Especially not a Hollywood party of all places.

Eddie first spotted your grandmother mid-performance of the band’s single with you. She approached him shortly after, when you excused yourself to take some shots with Holly, leaving the frontman alone.

“Even I cannot deny that it’s a good song,” she states simply, as Eddie eyes her suspiciously.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

She scoffs. “Just like my lovely granddaughter, I can get myself on every single list I want, and even though I don’t necessarily want to be here, I do have something to tell you.”

Eddie cocks a brow, “Oh yeah?”

“Hawkins is a lovely little town,” she says, not missing a beat. “It’s quaint. Reminds me of a place I spent hiding my pregnancy all those moons ago, but that’s a story for another time. Or not. Depends how well you listen to me right now.”

“What do you want?”

“Does my granddaughter know about Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie’s face falls the second Chrissy’s name escapes your grandmothers painted lips, though he doesn’t get a chance to actually reply to the question, because she’s quick to continue with her agenda.

“I suppose not. Your uncle Wayne was really quite open to tell me about her though, about what she meant to you.”

She pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward.”

Another brief pause.

“Yet I can’t help the curiosity, why didn’t you tell my baby about this girl if she supposedly played such a big part in you pursuing your dreams?”

“Don’t do this—”

“Do what, Edward? I’m just trying to learn more about the boy my naive granddaughter is willing to risk her entire career for. Again, your uncle Wayne was very helpful in this department, considering you practically shunned me from the dinner I organised for this exact reason.”

“Listen—”

“No,” your grandmother interrupts, “We both know you’re not good enough for my sweet angel and this entire Chrissy situation you are trying really hard to hide from everyone, only proves my point,” she snaps and Eddie’s feeling grateful that the place is a little too crowded and a little too noisy for anyone to hear what’s happening at this very moment.

“Edward, if you have nothing to hide, if you’re really innocent and played no part in the poor girl's death, why can’t the world know? Feel free to answer me, I’m just trying to get some insight into who my granddaughter has chosen to date.”

Eddie swallows his breath, unsure of what to say because it’s these types of conversations he’s been trying to avoid by not bringing up Chrissy.

Ever.

He didn’t do anything to the girl he loved. He is one hundred percent innocent, and the courts proved his side of the story. Yet, he’s been ridiculed and questioned left, right, and centre.

Only Max and Wayne know that the final reason as to why he’s decided to leave Hawkins behind for good, was to get away from the rumours and the people that didn’t believe him. And as he rushed to chase his dreams, he swore he’d never bring this up. Swore to never mention Chrissy’s name to anyone, or the fact that she’s been the inspiration behind numerous Corroded Coffin singles.

In a way, it was freeing. In Los Angeles, Chrissy Cunnigham was nothing but a figment of Eddie’s imagination.

Until this very moment.

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I know,” your Nana states, “But it wouldn’t take a lot to make people in Hollywood believe that you did and then your image is ruined, your career starts to decline, and the only other person that’s affected besides you and your bandmates, is the person you claim to feel something for. My granddaughter.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He glances behind your grandmother’s shoulder to where you’re standing at the bar with Holly, laughing at something your friend has said seconds prior.

He’s happy with you. He’s happy to be known as your boyfriend.

And it’s because of that happiness, he knows he cannot ruin your life by involving you in something that happened before he was even famous.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” the rockstar mumbles in a defeated tone.

“She’s going to hurt either way,” your grandmother says, “But if you end things with her on your own, I promise to keep Chrissy’s name out of the press, so you’re only breaking my granddaughter's heart and not simultaneously ending her career.”

The metalhead hangs his head low, closing his eyes momentarily to try and gather his tipsy thoughts. His lack of rebuttal is enough for your grandmother to claim her victory. She places a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder and squeezes once, faking remorse.

“And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

She lets her hand fall and walks out of the party with her head held high. Unseen by you and unnoticed by everyone else here, almost like a ghost. Like the conversion never happened. 

But the ache in Eddie’s chest is proof enough. He knows what occurred, just like he knows what he unfortunately needs to do — which is break your fucking heart.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @astheni-a , @bebe07011

[peoplefromheaven]

“In you, Lord my God, I put my trust. I trust in you; do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one who hopes in you will ever be put to shame, but shame will come on those who are treacherous without cause. Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old. Do not remember the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you, Lord, are good. Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in his ways. He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way. All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful toward those who keep the demands of his covenant. For the sake of your name, Lord, forgive my iniquity, though it is great. Who, then, are those who fear the Lord? He will instruct them in the ways they should choose. They will spend their days in prosperity, and their descendants will inherit the land. The Lord confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them. My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only he will release my feet from the snare. Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart and free me from my anguish. Look on my affliction and my distress and take away all my sins. See how numerous are my enemies and how fiercely they hate me! Guard my life and rescue me; do not let me be put to shame, for I take refuge in you. May integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope, Lord, is in you. Deliver Israel, O God, from all their troubles!”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭25‬

[pastorhogg]

As My Day Begins

Psalm 25:1-9 (NIV): “To you, Lord, I lift up my soul; my God, I trust in you. Do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one who hopes in you will ever be put to shame, but shame will come on those who are treacherous without cause. Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day…

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for march 13 of 2023 with Proverbs 13 and Psalm 13, accompanied by Psalm 83 for the 83rd day of Astronomical Winter, and Psalm 72 for day 72 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 1st revolution this year)

[Proverbs 13]

A wise child is attentive to his parents’ instruction,

but the mocker is deaf to correction.

A person eats well when he speaks wisely,

but the treacherous crave violence.

Those who guard their speech insure they will take another breath,

but those who talk without thinking guarantee their demise.

Slackers crave but have their fill of nothing,

but the hardworking desire and are completely satisfied.

The right-living will not tolerate any lie,

but wrongdoers come to shame and embarrassment.

Doing right keeps the innocent on the path of life,

but doing wrong is the downfall of the wicked.

One pretends he is wealthy but has nothing,

while another seems to be poor but has great wealth.

The rich are targeted and must ransom their lives,

but no one bothers to threaten the poor.

The light of the right-living brings joy as it burns brightly;

the lamp of a wrongdoer will be snuffed out.

Arrogance only produces arguments,

but wisdom accompanies those well advised.

Money earned hastily is easily lost,

but hard-earned money continues to grow.

Hope postponed grieves the heart;

but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.

The one who hates good counsel will reap failure and ruin,

but the one who reveres God’s instruction will be rewarded.

Wise instruction is a spring yielding a satisfied life;

those who follow it avoid the traps that lead to death.

Good sense brings blessing,

but the road of the treacherous is long and rough.

A clever person acquires knowledge and then acts on it;

but a fool advertises his folly for all to see.

An untrustworthy messenger stirs up trouble,

but a faithful emissary is curative balm.

A person who turns from correction faces poverty and shame,

but one who regards constructive criticism is well respected.

A dream fulfilled is the sweetness of life,

but abandoning evil is repulsive to fools.

One who walks with the wise becomes wise,

but whoever keeps company with fools only hurts himself.

Trouble eagerly pursues the sinner,

but success rewards the right-living.

A good person leaves an inheritance for his grandchildren,

but the wealth of the sinner is eventually passed on to the right-living.

Though the fields of the poor yield a bumper crop

in a land without justice, it is stolen out from under them.

Those who spare the rod of discipline hate their children,

but those who are quick to correct them show true love.

Those who do right have plenty to eat,

while those who do wrong go hungry.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 13 (The Voice)

[Psalm 13]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

How long, O Eternal One? How long will You forget me? Forever?

How long will You look the other way?

How long must I agonize,

grieving Your absence in my heart every day?

How long will You let my enemies win?

Turn back; respond to me, O Eternal, my True God!

Put the spark of life in my eyes, or I’m dead.

My enemies will boast they have beaten me;

my foes will celebrate that I have stumbled.

But I trust in Your faithful love;

my heart leaps at the thought of imminent deliverance by You.

I will sing to the Eternal,

for He is always generous with me.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 13 (The Voice)

[Psalm 83]

A song of Asaph.

O True God, do not be quiet any longer.

Do not stay silent or be still, O God.

Look now, Your enemies are causing a commotion;

those who hate You are rising up!

They are conniving against Your people,

conspiring against those You cherish.

They say, “Join us. Let’s wipe the entire nation off the face of the earth

so no one will remember Israel’s name.”

They are all in it together, thinking as one,

and making a pact against You:

The people of Edom and Ishmael;

the Moabites and the Hagrites;

Gebal, Ammon, and Amalek;

Philistia with the residents of Tyre.

And the powerful Assyrians have joined the alliance

to add their strength and support the descendants of Lot: Moab and Ammon.

[pause]

Do to these nations what You did to Midian,

to Sisera and Jabin at the raging waters of Kishon.

They were destroyed at En-dor;

they became like dung, fertilizer for the ground.

Make their rulers like Oreb and Zeeb,

all their princes like Zebah and Zalmunna,

Who schemed, “We should own the meadows of the True God,

let’s take them!”

O my God, blow them away like a tumbleweed,

scatter them like dust in a whirlwind.

As a wildfire charges through the forest

or a flame sprints up the mountainside,

Send Your raging winds to chase them, hunt them down,

and terrify them with Your storm.

Redden their faces in shame

so that they will turn and seek Your holy name, Eternal One.

May they face disappointment and anxiety forever;

may they be ashamed and die.

May they know that You and You alone,

whose name is the Eternal,

are the Most High, the Supreme Ruler over all the earth.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 83 (The Voice)

[Psalm 72]

A song of Solomon.

True God, bestow Your honest judgments upon the king

and anoint the king’s son with Your righteousness.

May he be honest and fair in his judgments over Your people

and offer justice to the burdened and suffering.

Under his reign, may this land of mountains and hills know peace

and experience justice for all the people.

May the king offer justice to the burdened and suffering,

rescue the poor and needy,

and demolish the oppressor!

[May the people fear You] for as long as the sun shines,

as long as the moon rises in the night sky, throughout the generations.

May the king be like the refreshing rains, which fall upon fields of freshly mown grass—

like showers that cool and nourish the earth.

May good and honest people flourish for as long as he reigns,

and may peace fill the land until the moon no longer rises.

May the king rule from one sea to the next,

and may his rule extend from the Euphrates River to the far reaches of the earth.

Let the desert wanderers bow down before him

and his enemies lay prostrate and taste the dirt.

Let the kings of Tarshish and the island kings

shower him with gifts

And the kings of Sheba and Seba bring him presents as well.

Let every king on earth bow down before him

and every nation be in his service.

For he will rescue the needy when they ask for help!

He will save the burdened and come to the aid of those who have no other help.

He offers compassion to the weak and the poor;

he will help and protect the lives of the needy!

He will liberate them from the fierce sting of persecution and violence;

in his eyes, their blood is precious.

May he live a long, long time

and the gold of Sheba be given to him.

May the people constantly lift up prayers for him,

and may they call upon God to bless him always.

Let grain grow plentifully in this land of promise,

let it sway in the breeze on the hilltops,

let it grow strong as do the cedars of Lebanon,

And may those who live in the city bloom and flourish

just as the grass of the fields and meadows.

May his name live on forever

and his reputation grow for as long as the sun gives light.

May people from all nations find in him a blessing;

may all peoples declare him blessed.

May the Eternal God, the God of Israel, be blessed,

for He alone works miracles and wonders!

May His glorious name be blessed forever

and the whole earth be filled with His eternal glory!

Amen. Amen.

The prayers of King David, Jesse’s son, are ended.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 72 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Woven throughout the psalms are songs describing and praising those anointed as kings over God’s people. Psalm 2, one of the introductory psalms, describes the king as the son of God, the ruler of nations, and the anointed one. During the monarchical period in Israel, psalms like these were tied to the kings themselves, idealizing them as perfectly just and righteous and victorious. But during the exile, God’s exiled people longed for freedom and the implications of these songs began to change. Many Jews began to interpret these psalms as referring to a coming ruler, a Davidic king who would usher in an eternal kingdom and perfect peace. This hope was realized in Jesus. So this is why the earliest followers of Jesus went back to the psalms again and again. They found within many of the psalms, the story of Jesus anticipated and celebrated.

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

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Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

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The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[mythicalmisery]

Chapter One : 🥖

cw: anxiety, exhaustion, broken hand, passing out.

Caspian was trying to let the building irritation simmer down before he did something he would regret. The merchant standing in front of him was still talking, although it was futile as Cas could only hear the ringing in his ear getting louder with anger. All he saw when staring ahead of him was the man’s mouth moving like a fish out of water or a cheap carnival mime.

He had only been in this particular village for three days. Only a small portion of his month and half long stint of pathetic freedom. He had not been prepared in the slightest when the opportunity of escape had presented itself. He had no money, food, clothes, or means of transportation. Although, he was clever enough to snag a golden candelabra on his way out of the “serpent's lair” he had been bound to since the age of sixteen. He found a traveling merchant in the next town over who would purchase it in exchange for a horse and a change of clothes. As if the gods had an agenda against him, he just happened to start his treacherous journey during the first moon of Autumn. He knew he could have gotten more for the candle but he needed the thick, warm clothes and horse quickly. Not leaving much money for basic needs like food which he took for granted while in captivity. 

“Hey boy, are you even listening to me?” The merchant snapped at him.

Cas let out a sigh as he gathered what little sense was still there in the back of his mind and tried to speak evenly.

“This bread cost only half this price two days ago” he stated as calmly as his mouth allowed. Which was already absurdly high, to begin with, he thought to himself.

“Well it’s not two days ago, is it? If you can’t pay little boy then get fucking moving, you’re holding up my line” he all but snarled.

Cas’s eye twitched at the condescending nickname. He hadn’t eaten since that loaf he barely scraped enough money up to buy those two long days ago along with feed for his horse. His stomach growled in defeat and he decided to stop wasting time with the greedy bastard. A fleeting thought flashed in his head as he walked away. 

Wouldn’t it be a shame if this shithead’s stand caught flame? 

He quickly shook the idea from his head. As tempting as it was, he didn’t need to waste any more of his withering energy and he could do without the attention. He had done a fairly decent job laying low with only a few minor slip-ups here and there.

Cas was what people called a striker. He had the ability to manipulate certain elements. Strikers were very rare to come across, which led to a target being painted on his back the moment his abilities started to surface at the age of fifteen. As enviable as these powers were to others, his special skills came with their faults and conditions. The more he used them at one time, the more energy was drained from him and the weaker he would become. He was also limited to only what he could see. He could not form a flame out of mid-air but could cause unimaginable damage with a single match set in his eye-line.

Although, he did come to a stop when another irrational thought reached out to him. He caught a glance of a bucket catching rainwater from a thatched roof a few feet away from the merchant's stand. Just as he was starting to think rationally, his stomach growled again seeming to decide for his brain.

A truly idiotic and risky thought indeed.

Cas lined up behind the tent of some other greedy merchant - who probably also enjoyed taking hard-earned money of other villagers and ripping them off - to shield himself from curious eyes.

He took one last look around before aligning his fingers and focusing on his breathing. He could feel the sweat beading up on his forehead, making a home atop his furrowed brow. No matter how many times he used his powers, the waves of anxiety had their claws set deep inside his muscles always causing him to slightly shake. He slowly inhaled and exhaled a few times, steadying his heartbeat. 

With a flick of his right pointer finger a mere three inches to the left, the water in the bucket swooshed out at a pressurizing speed knocking over the flimsy, makeshift leg of the merchant's stand he was probably too cheap to replace. It crashed with a loud bang, startling many people in its vicinity. It only took a few seconds for the initial shock to wear off and the multitude of baked goods crashing to the floor for people's desperation to kick in and seize the opportunity. 

Soon the stand was swarmed by villagers grasping for anything they could get their starving hands on. Cas didn’t hesitate any longer out of fear of nothing being left after the mob. He swiftly glided through the crowd grabbing a loaf of bread from one of the baskets that fell. As he turned to leave he locked eyes with the merchant who was shouting his obvious disapproval and empty threats at the crowd during the whole ordeal.

“You son of a bitch! This was your doing I know it, you’ll pay for this!” he screeched over the crowd quickly swallowing him whole.

Cas gave the merchant a small smirk before turning to slither through the crowd as fast as possible. He could already feel the exhaustion coming in waves upon him, heightened by his already empty stomach. As he kept trying to push through the sea of people, he felt his anxiety swiftly pick up again. He was being crushed by the crowd and couldn’t breathe.

He refused to die by stampede after all he’d been through. With newfound determination, he pushed through the overwhelming and suffocating feeling as best he could and shoved the bread in his leather satchel before dropping to his knees. He crawled through the forest of legs as best he could, getting kicked hard every once in a while which knocked the wind out of him. Not helping his already present lack of breath situation. 

Finally, after what felt like hours he made it to the outskirts of the crowd. Before sweet relief could take over, Cas’s hand that was splayed out to push himself up with happened to be in the footpath of one burly man’s thick leather boots. Before his reflexes could register what was about to happen, the boot came crashing down on the back of his hand. A sickening crunch could still be heard through all the bustle of the market. Deafening. 

His breath hitched and his mouth fell open for a silent scream to try and claw its way out of his dry throat. What was an attempt at best, he crawled slowly ahead to the open ground using only his right arm and holding his left close to his chest, mirroring a dog who hurt his front paw. He finally managed - although on shaky legs ready to give out any moment - to stand and make his way down to an alley a few buildings North of the merchant center to assess the damage to his hand. He slumped down the wall to the floor with a distressed groan, resting his elbows on his knees and holding out his hand. Every little movement sent white-hot searing pain up his forearm and wherever the damaged nerves in his hand could reach. 

Fucking hell were the only words his mind could formulate in that moment. 

Between the exhaustion, hunger, and the stinging pain that just won’t seem to dull, Cas felt his eyelids grow heavy. He knew how dangerous it was to stay in this alley. He knew he needed to eat. He knew he needed to find somewhere to sleep for the night that was safe. He knew all these things he had to do and yet he couldn’t convince his body to stand. His knees lowered and stretched out as he laid his head back against the wall. He positioned his arms in his lap biting back a small whimper. He tried to focus on a weaving crack in the wall in front of him and gain some semblance of control over his raggedy breaths. 

After a few minutes, his body felt numb. Giving in to the inevitable and trying to make the passage to the unconscious more merciful. He didn’t put up a fight when his eyesight started to blur around the edges and his eyelids finally gave up. 

Everything going dark.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

1 In you, Lord my God,   I put my trust. 2 I trust in you;   do not let me be put to shame,   nor let my enemies triumph over me. 3 No one who hopes in you   will ever be put to shame, but shame will come on those   who are treacherous without cause. 4 Show me your ways, Lord,   teach me your paths. 5 Guide me in your truth and teach me,   for you are God my Savior,   and my hope is in you all day long. 6 Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love,   for they are from of old. 7 Do not remember the sins of my youth   and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me,   for you, Lord, are good. 8 Good and upright is the Lord;   therefore he instructs sinners in his ways. 9 He guides the humble in what is right   and teaches them his way. 10 All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful   toward those who keep the demands of his covenant. 11 For the sake of your name, Lord,   forgive my iniquity, though it is great.

12 Who, then, are those who fear the Lord?   He will instruct them in the ways they should choose. 13 They will spend their days in prosperity,   and their descendants will inherit the land. 14 The Lord confides in those who fear him;   he makes his covenant known to them. 15 My eyes are ever on the Lord,   for only he will release my feet from the snare. 16 Turn to me and be gracious to me,   for I am lonely and afflicted. 17 Relieve the troubles of my heart   and free me from my anguish. 18 Look on my affliction and my distress   and take away all my sins. 19 See how numerous are my enemies   and how fiercely they hate me! 20 Guard my life and rescue me;   do not let me be put to shame,   for I take refuge in you. 21 May integrity and uprightness protect me,   because my hope, Lord, is in you. 22 Deliver Israel, O God,   from all their troubles! — Psalm 25 | New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Genesis 17:1-2; Genesis 29:32; Genesis 49:18; Exodus 33:13; Exodus 34:9; 2 Samuel 16:12; 1 Kings 8:36; 2 Chronicles 20:12; Job 13:26; Psalm 3:1; Psalm 4:1; Psalm 13:4; Psalm 23:6; Psalm 25:2-3; Psalm 25:5; Psalm 25:8; Psalm 25:12; Psalm 25:20-21; Psalm 31:17; Psalm 31:19; Psalm 32:8; Psalm 40:12; Psalm 44:26; Psalm 69:16; Psalm 77:9; Psalm 86:4; Psalm 98:3; Psalm 130:8; Matthew 5:5; John 7:17

[aspirant1598]

[rochiomaru]

THE BETRAYAL

We make the journey to the islands and land on Minion island in a cove where we can see the rendezvous point at Swallow Island without our position being spotted. I have a terrible premonition that things are about to get extremely treacherous for my family, and as we spend time watching, this feeling is proven accurate. My heart sinks as we watch two warships begin circling the port. The size of these ships are so massive that they almost match the ones used in a buster call. These ships are here to rain destruction, not to simply guard a transaction. It’s as if the Marines are preparing for a war.

It is then that my transponder snail begins to ring. The demons in my soul practically sing in glee as I know whatever news is on the other end is going to destroy the remainder of my happiness. I’m not even sure how I am aware of this, but it is a knowledge that I would place my life on. I simply close my eyes and my fingers crack and bend as I flex them back and forth before taking the snail’s receiver.

Vergo informs me of my brother’s secret letter to the Marines. My world comes to an end for the briefest of moments and my vision blurs as wretched heat fills my eyes. Rosinante has attempted to tell them everything. The auction houses, the devil fruits, and worst of all, he tried to warn them about Dressrosa. It is a country that was stolen from our family by the worthless world government. That crown should have been mine at birth, simply by matter of bloodline! It was denied to me by those pompous fools, so why would help them to keep what is rightfully mine?

I am pulled from my reverie when Vergo attempts to appease me by letting me know he punished Rosinante and Law. Even my voices know to let me be at this moment. Law is my son and still a child. I am the only one to decide his punishment if one is even warranted. My brother is currently the only transgressor, and I still want to talk to him. Maybe the Marines forced him to betray me? I must know why he did this! Brothers...blood is forever! How could he choose them over me? A voice whispers in my mind that The Family is my only true family. I ignore it for now.

“Whoa-whoa, you haven’t killed them, have you?” I ask Vergo. He assures me they are still breathing, but I do not like his flippant tone. I will overlook it, though, as he has been so faithful to me all these years and has been undercover, away from the family. I tell him that we will be that way shortly, as the pirates we have fought said the devil fruit was stolen from them, so it must have been my brother.

Vergo becomes irritated. Apparently, Rosinante and Law have disappeared, but it is of no great importance. We will find them, for how far can a child and an injured man go? I also have my devil fruit to assist me. I pull forth one of my most formidable abilities. Birdcage. I can feel the subtle vibrations as people begin to grab a hold of the strings in a futile attempt to escape. No one can escape this trap once I have set it. I will find my son.

As a final push towards destruction, I release my parasite strings and begin to grab random pirates to slay anyone near them. A morbid pleasure fills my breast as I can sense the pain and fear that fills them whenever someone’s flesh is pierced by my power.

We make our way towards the town and cut down every rat we come across along the way. No amount of begging, or crying is enough to grant mercy. No display of anger, or effort to fight is adequate to repel my family’s judgement. Death is granted to all without hesitation and the stench of iron increases even as the sounds of war decrease. With each death, the demons at the core of my being are gaining more momentum. I can scarcely tell what is them and what is me. It is as though I am losing my true self, and I feel a small flicker of fear. I am drowning, and with Rosinante’s betrayal, I no longer have a lifeline to grasp, nor perhaps even the desire to hang on.

I finally reach a warehouse and use my strings to lay waste to the door. Inside I find the sorry excuse of a pirate captain. He is the one who was to meet with the Marines and sell the Ope Ope no Mi, but here he is cowering before me on the ground like a worm. Somehow this filth dares to accuse me of taking the precious fruit, but I make sure to tell him that if I had taken it, I would not be here now going through all of this. 

He sickens me to even look at him and only have one thing more to say, “How dare you let it be stolen, you drunken idiot?!” before I pass his final condemnation and pull the gun from my coat. He isn’t even worth death from my personal power, and the bullets pass through his head before he can utter one more word in response. Good riddance.

After it is done, I slowly lower myself to the floor and stare at the gun in my hand. I’m losing myself while the demons of both past and present begin to take over everything. I remember how I felt when I met Trebol for the first time. I was so small and broken. He recognized greatness in me and was able to put name to the power dwelling within my soul. Haki. The power that saved me from the villagers. If it hadn’t been for him and Vergo, I never would have met my destiny.

I continue to stare at the gun. The gun Trebol gave me to take my revenge and steal my power back from that man. He’s the one that caused me and my brother to hurt so much! He tried to take my power from me! I can hear Rosi...Rosinante screaming for me to stop. He’s screaming for that man. I ask him why he took that power I had. I tell him we can’t undo what he’s done, but I plan to take his head to the Celestial Dragons to regain entry to heaven. I’m doing it for us! Why doesn’t Rosinante understand? Instead Rosinante persists in clinging to and crying for that man!

He simply turns and says, “Doflamingo, Rosinante. I’m sorry you had to have a father like me.” I pause when he smiles at me. There are tears in his eyes and I can feel my hands begin to shake as I falter. I hate myself for my self-doubt, but this was a man I once trusted more than anyone in the world. At one time, he was everything to me. He would hold my hand as we walked along the streets of Mariejois, and he spent time playing games with me. He held me on his shoulders the first time I saw Rosi. Then I remember the pain and humiliation. He brought us here to be hurt. He let her die. He betrayed us.

The feeling of the iron is hot as I pull the trigger and I’m surprised how it makes my palm sting when the recoil causes the gun to slam back into my hand. I can smell the acidic burn of gunpowder in the air, and it is joined by the unmistakable rich odor of blood. I can feel gore and wet heat splatter on me from his wound. Rosinante continues to scream.

Pica is calling out my name, but I can scarcely bring myself to look away from the gun still sitting in my hand. It seems so small now. How can such a tiny weapon have brought such major changes in my existence? Pica then puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me they have found my brother. That manages to catch my full attention. The time has come to find out for sure if he has truly betrayed me to the point that there is no longer hope for us. I put the gun back into my coat and followed Pica into the cold.

I took my time walking towards the sounds of fighting, and though I was no longer right behind Pica, I could see his footprints in the snow. My voices are screaming for bloodshed, but I have never felt so conflicted before. My chest is aching from how tight it feels, and I notice the taste of copper in my mouth. When I put my fingers to my lips and pull them back, I see I have managed to bite through my bottom lip until it bled. Fufufu… I can’t help but to laugh at myself. Perhaps I am not as strong as I always believed?

The closer I come to where the family is confronting my brother, the harder it is for me to catch my breath. My chest is becoming even tighter, and my throat is getting dry as I struggle to swallow. I must stop and close my eyes. My fingers are moving fast and cracking as I create and release strings to try and relieve the tension in my body. I growl at the voices to shut the hell up, since they have become so fucking loud that I can’t concentrate on catching my breath. I need to understand why Rosinante is doing this!

WHY?

It isn’t until I hear Lao G tell Gladius to stop before he kills my brother that everything seems to freeze. My eyes snap open and I look up towards the direction where everyone is at just over the hill. He’s going to die? I lean my head to the side and relax my face into a wide grin, full of sharp teeth. People often tell me it is quite unnerving. I begin to chuckle softly, and it increases until I can’t even control the laughter. My demons join me in my head. We laugh until tears begin to roll down my face. Then I begin to sob. When did my brother stop loving me?

Did he ever love me?

After a few moments, I wipe my face with both of my hands and straighten my tie. I run my fingers through my hair and ensure that my coat is snug on my shoulders before continuing onward. My face is carefully blank as I approach Rosinante and my family, but I keep my hands in my pockets since I cannot seem to keep the fidgeting of my fingers under control.

I count off the steps in my head to try and keep calm. There is still a burning ember of hope in my chest, he will say something to make this better! He is still my lovely younger brother. All I have ever wanted is to have family and to be happy. We deserve better than the hell of this shameful dung heap that man cursed us to! It is all I have worked towards these long years. Surely Rosinante must know that! 

I stop and look down at Rosinante covered in blood, coughing as he is trying to smoke a cigarette. I want to reach out to him and take care of his injuries, but I know this is not the time for that. In fact, there may never be a time for that again. Instead, I say to him, “It has been six months, Corazon,” and wait to see what he will say back to me. 

The look of disgust and hatred in his eyes repulsed me. I can practically feel it burning my skin as he attempts to stare me down. Suddenly he smiles and reaches into his coat. The others immediately react, but I hold out my hand and tell them to stand down. He is my brother! I will see to this myself.

They were right not to trust him as he pulls a gun from his coat and aims it towards me. He even dares to pull back the hammer in preparation to fire. Icy fingers wind their way around my heart even as fiery pinpricks stab behind my eyes. He surely is betraying me, and I don’t know why. 

What is it about me that makes it so my biological family doesn’t want to love and protect me? I have the blood of the Celestial Dragons in my veins, but they have cast me away too. My hand goes to my eyes before I catch it and put it back into my pockets.

The next thing my brother says is that last thing I was ever expecting. “Marine Code 01746. Commander Rosinante of the Navy Headquarters. Donquixote Family captain Doflamingo, I have been undercover to prevent a future tragedy of your doing. I am a Navy soldier!” 

My heart feels as though it is shattering in that moment and there is a fever pitch of wails lamenting in my head. For the last few years that I’ve been tormented with the thoughts and suspicions that my brother hated me and was lying to me, to hear it put so plainly now was eating me alive. I could feel a cold sweat breaking out on my back and muscles tightening in my abdomen. That power began rolling and coiling within me, wrapping around the demons fighting for dominance. I felt it overwhelming me, but truly had lost the will to care.

Despite the turmoil churning inside my consciousness, I managed to keep my exterior facade in place, save for the deepening scowl on my forehead. Commander Rosinante continued, but he was no longer looking at me as he spoke. Again, my voices cried out he was playing games, only this time I know to listen to them. I realize he is no longer speaking to me, though I am not sure why he is trying to pretend any longer. What is the point in this charade? “I’m sorry I lied to you. I lied because I didn’t want you to hate me.” 

LIES!

I can feel the look of disgust that curls on my lip as I respond to him, “Stop telling those insipid jokes…” before the rage manifests on my face and I scream for him to answer my questions. I ask him about the Ope Ope no Mi and Law. He looks so proud of himself when he tells me that he had Law eat the fruit! I want to laugh in his face and wipe that smug look from existence. All he did was what I had planned from the beginning!

It’s what he says next that changes everything. My whole world feels like it is jerked out from underneath me and I am left with nothing. Law is not within the boundaries of the birdcage and Rosinante has allowed him to be given to the Marines. My son is with the FUCKING MARINES!! The icy fingers around my heart have just ripped said heart from my chest and crushed it to leave nothing but a gaping, bloody hole.

No, no, no, no… he must be lying, is all I try to tell myself as he begins to grin that cocksure fucking smile that lets me know I was never his brother. I was nothing more than an assignment to him. I begin to grind my teeth, but before I can move to react to him, Buffalo and Baby 5 cry out to me. They confirm that a boy was indeed taken by the Marines, so I begin to give out orders to the Family to retrieve Law. Then something in me snaps.

I was simply a pawn to the Commander. A villainous pirate to keep an eye on and report back about. I was never his brother! He never loved me this whole time! This realization causes the dam holding the demons back to break. I no longer have any control and they consume me. I think I may even be… grateful? After so many years of struggling, I begin to sink into the blackness of their embrace. I am me, yet I am not. It is my body, though it is not I that is fully in possession any longer.

 The bastard has the nerve to look offended that I plan to take my son back from the Marines. When he speaks aloud for me not to and asks me why I want to get Law back, I know I would never give him the honest answer anymore. He is no longer family and doesn’t deserve any kindness from me. I allow the demons to answer in my stead, simply because at this point, I want him to hurt as much as he hurt me.

 I can feel my face change as I lean in towards him. The cruelty is almost alive the way it distorts and disfigures me. I truly am demonic in my hatred and my demons have given me a new smile as I answer the Commander. “Why would I wanna go after Law? If he ate the Ope Ope no Mi, he needs to be educated in order to die for me!” Somewhere deep within I wonder if I have allowed them to go too far to even say such a thing, but when I see his face, revenge is sweet, and I force the regret away while retrieving the gun from my coat.

 I look at him and all I see is our father where I used to see our moth… all I see is him, when I used to see her. She has truly left this world for me and the only family I have is the ones I have found. The ones that came to me when I was ten.  I just don’t understand why my blood wants to reject me. I don’t mean to say it to him, but it slips out, “Why do I have to kill another member of my biological family?!”

 We stare at each other for a few moments, each pointing a gun at the other. I tell him he won’t shoot me because he is like his father. Since they do not want me, I will no longer claim them either. The Commander and that man can have each other in hell! I begin to fire. Once I pull the trigger, I can’t stop. I see flashes of my life. My brother as a baby, Law, Mariejois, my moth...my mother; all the things that have been taken from me! Why does everyone leave?

 The voices whisper, “because you are a demon, like us. A worthless monster. Who could ever love something like that?”

 I keep firing until the gun is empty. It is so cold out and I watch as Rosinante slides back against the treasure chest. Snow begins to gather on his body and red stains it. I watch while the others begin to gather the stacks of loot and beri to carry back to the ship, but a part of me doesn’t want to leave him there alone in the cold. He betrayed me in the deepest way anyone ever could, but... I love him. It’s freezing out here, and Rosi is so damn helpless and clumsy. I worry about him. He is my baby broth…

 Diamante taps me on the arm and tells me it’s time to go. I turn away and walk towards the Numancia with my family. We are about to wage war on the Marines in the harbor to get my son back. 

 I release the birdcage and my lips spread wide in a razor-sharp leer. My glasses hide the insanity that is swimming at the surface of my consciousness. I feel like the world cannot begin to touch what I have become.

The Marines will forever regret what they have done to me and my family. I am about to pay them back in spades for the life of my brother, then I will take Law before any further damage can be done.

The Heavenly Demon shows mercy to no man and has now been fully unleashed.

[ladywindrunner]

"I thought I was death... " Little Moon to Banshee Sylvanas (idk how but I just want them to be sisters again T_T )

meme i’ve lost rip :: messages :: always accepting //

She’d long wished Vereesa to know the hopelessness of dying.To be left alone, at the mercy of monstrous foes, praying to absent gods for aid, or if that proves impossible – justice. To say the Banshee Queen was bitter, was the greatest understatement ever thought or spoken. For what was worse than dying to a bastard, was the knowledge that her little sister, precious Little Moon, had abandoned her when Sylvanas had needed her most.

           And she’d not done it once, nor twice, but thrice.

           She’d abandoned Sylvanas at Silvermoon when Arthas turned the dead on Quel’thalas.

           She saw fit to make the Dark Lady the villain at the trial of Garrosh.

           Then Vereesa, who touted on about wishing for things to be different between them, hadn’t come to the gathering suggested by King Anduin.

           Sylvanas had gazed out at the families reuniting, and saw none of her own there.

           The final dagger driven into the Banshee Queen’s dead heart. This one hadn’t surprised her, but it’d stung none-the-less.

           And so fate saw fit to finally reward the wronged middle-sister. The treacherous warchief had happened across an ambush meant to end Vereesa’s life, and Sylvanas was graced with the opportunity to watch. She’d worn a wicked grin from the shadows, using her dark magics to hide even the glow of her crimson eyes lest she be detected.

           Yet as the battle went, and the assassins drew closer to ending her sister’s life – Sylvanas’ grin faded to a cruel smile.

           More and more strikes landed on Vereesa, each eliciting hisses of pain.

           The Dark Lady’s smile turned to an arrogant smirk.

           Then a sword struck true, and Little Moon released a pained shout.

           Suddenly her face was empty of any expression.

           That same sword, red with Vereesa’s blood, saw itself raised for an overhead cleave.

           The finishing blow—

           It never struck. Sylvanas had interceded with a horrendous wail, before draining the life out of all the assailants who dared to assault her sister. The air around the banshee twisted and warped as the light turned to an ethereal darkness. Ribbons of malice fluttered in the air about the tortured spirit, who’s eyes were nothing but a seething, terrible red.

           Sylvanas snarled at the woman on the ground, fangs bared as if she’d saved Vereesa only to claim the killing blow for herself. It was a thought that obviously crossed the ranger’s mind, as Vereesa flinched as she gazed up at the terrifying spectre.

           Yet the Banshee Queen simply lingered there.

           “I thought I was dead.”

           Sylvanas lips curled into a venomous smirk.

           “What a sad fate that would be,” the banshee jeered, “poor Vereesa, Ranger-General of the Silver Covenant… felled by undoubtedly a poor man’s assassins.”

           Vereesa winced as she slowly sat up, holding a hand to her side. She glanced at those that attacked her.

           They were withered corpses now, closer to the mummified dead found in wastelands or deserts.

           “Why did you save me?” Vereesa asked.

           For that, Sylvanas had no good answer. She shouldn’t have, she should have let these thugs end her sister’s pathetic life and then raised her to be by her side. Had she not plotted to kill her and Alleria? Had she not tried to lure them to their deaths, so she would no longer be alone?

           This would have been an opportune moment to capitalize on Vereesa’s vulnerability.

           “Not to have a discussion, I assure you,” Sylvanas replied with a cold gaze. “Perhaps it is a test to see just how much a liar you are, Little Moon.”

           Vereesa scowled in disapproval.

           “What do you—“

           “You know what I mean,” the banshee snarled, her voice making the air about them tremble. “Will you tell Alleria I saved you, or will you conveniently leave that out of the next tale you spin about me.”

           The youngest Windrunner could not hold Sylvanas’ gaze. She looked away in shame.

           “Oh, so are aware you lied.” The banshee smirked cruelly, “how reassuring. Some hint of decency resides in you.”

           Vereesa got to her feet, watching as Sylvanas’ wicked form became corporeal again. Before her stood the Warchief of the Horde.

           “You would judge me on decency?” Little Moon shot back.

           Her sister simply smiled.

           “I didn’t lie to Alleria about what I’ve done,” the Dark Lady responded. “We both know you cannot claim as such.”

           For that, a silence hung between them. Vereesa drew from her pocket a small red potion, and downed it quickly. Her wounds slowly began to heal a moment afterwards.

           Sylvanas turned, “do try to make it back to Stormwind without getting ambushed—“

           “I’m sorry.”

           The undead woman fell silent, her gaze hardened as she regarded her sister. She didn’t want to hear it.

           “I’m well aware you’re—“

           Vereesa reached out and touched Sylvanas’ wrist, almost grasping for it, but she didn’t dare. She could see that the Queen of the Forsaken had gone rigid. As hard as it was to read the body language of the dead, she could see the discomfort in Sylvanas’ stance.

           “Sylvanas, I am sorry.”

           The Dark Lady said nothing for a moment. It took all her discipline not to show her rage, pain, and misery. She wanted to rake claws across her sister’s face, tear flesh from bone.

           Vereesa caught the flicker of torment that for a moment, threatened to break Sylvanas’ steel resolve.

           Finally, she spoke.

           “If you expect forgiveness Little Moon,” Sylvanas spoke, words as hard as saronite. “You will be sorely disappointed.”

           Vereesa shook her head in response. “I don’t expect it.”

           No, of course she didn’t. Sylvanas could read Vereesa as easy as she could read the warchief. Vereesa did not expect forgiveness, but she did hope for it. There was that faint glimmer in her nervous eyes that somehow, Sylvanas would find it within herself to pardon all the lies and pain she’d cause.

           Sylvanas looked away in bitter thought.

Then with a wave of her hand, two skeletal horses tore up through the ground. They snorted and whinnied, eyes blazing an ugly yellow as they regarded the two Windrunners expectantly.

           “Come, I’ll ride with you to the border.”

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 7: Loyalty

On FF.net//On AO3

A/N: So very sorry for the late entry. I've been having some really serious computer problems lately, I was lucky I finished writing the chapter BEFORE tragedy struck, but it still took me a while to go over the whole thing so it'd be ready to be posted. It's been quite the ordeal of a weekend, ngl.

I'll leave more notes at the end. This is definitely the darkest of my entries so far, so even if there's concepts you dislike... try to bear with me :'D

He knew it. He knew from the start that frozen kid was going to be trouble, but who listens to Sokka? No one ever listens to Sokka. Even the tribe's children never listen to Sokka.

He couldn't stop scowling as he fit his warrior's outfit into place. He didn't have any armor, he was meant to craft his own with his father once he returned from the war… if he returned from the war. The very thought of never seeing him again, just as he'd never see his mother again, made him wish the likely, upcoming fight, would take him away just as well.

But no. He wasn't that weak, he wasn't that stupid: he was here to defend his people. That was what his father had tasked him with, and the women and children from the tribe would be safe with him. He hoped. As long as that damn flare hadn't been glimpsed by anyone Fire Nation, then perhaps they would be. Yet with the damn light beam that burst from the iceberg, just before that airbender tumbled out of it, right into his sister's arms, he couldn't take for granted that the Fire Nation wouldn't have noticed anything. In all likelihood, they'd come… and they might try to wipe out the village altogether. And he had no choice but to fight, even if he failed to stand against them.

He had practiced the traditional warriors' face-paint countless times in the past, with his father's supervision. He had continued doing so even after his father was gone, wondering if he'd ever wear it for a battle… he no longer wondered today. Without even glancing at his reflection in the basin of the hut he was preparing at, Sokka stepped out into the open as Katara and Kanna helped lead the women and children to safety.

It happened after he climbed his watch tower: a loud, machinery sound in the distance. He felt chills rushing down the nape of his neck and scowled: this couldn't be good. They were here. That shape he could see, hidden within the mist, had to belong to a Fire Nation ship.

And he was right, naturally: a massive, metal ship slowly traversed the icy waters, and Sokka clutched his weapons nervously as he watched it looming closer…

And then it stopped, right upon reaching the shore, cracking the ice lightly, as Sokka could see from where he stood at his watch tower. He swallowed hard and raised his gaze at the monumental ship… and then the ramp at its front was lowered with a loud, mechanical hiss. Sokka's whole body trembled as he waited, knowing the enemy would rush them in no time…

Footsteps upon the metal. Loud ones, multiple ones. Sokka frowned as a group of soldiers appeared at the top of the ramp, and he scanned them carefully: it wasn't his first time seeing Fire Nation soldiers in the flesh, but it had been a long time since he had last crossed paths with any of them. And while his anxiety was ramping up because of it, he still could pay enough attention to notice that they were flanking two people who weren't sporting a full soldiers' uniform.

"What is…?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes at the sight of them…

An old man, and a young woman. Both were shorter than the uniformed soldiers, and they were studying their surroundings carefully, it seemed. They walked side by side until they reached the end of the ramp… and then the soldiers lingered back, close to the ship, while the two people who wore lighter armor approached the Tribe's enclosure.

"Ah, but this is quite the freezing environment, isn't it?" the old man said, smiling carelessly at his companion. She scoffed.

"What else could you have expected in the South Pole, Uncle, really?" she said.

The area was silent enough for Sokka to understand their words perfectly. He frowned as he gazed at them, wondering if he should speak up… and just then, the young woman's eyes took to studying his watch tower… to studying him.

He felt the air leaving his lungs, and wondered if perhaps that girl was an airbender like Aang, to make him effectively breathless that way. Or maybe he was just too nervous, too anxious, and terrified of the possible consequences that would come from this encounter with likely firebenders…?

"You, up there," the young woman called to him. Sokka froze. "We come in peace. Find your leader, so we may speak with whoever they are."

"Peace?" Sokka repeated quietly, before raising his voice. "You've just barged into enemy territory on a ship like that, and you expect me to believe you're here to make friends?"

"Well, what else could I be here for?" she replied, with a sarcastic grin. Sokka's stomach sank. "Do tell. Are you hiding anything in your funny huts that I might make use of?"

"Like hell we are! Go back to your rotten nation and leave us be!" Sokka rebuffed, raising his boomerang in an intimidating gesture that he knew would fail.

"We can't quite do that," she said, simply. "Find your leader, I said. We don't have much time."

"Find our leader?" Sokka repeated. "Well, as things stand right now? You're speaking to him! I'm the Tribe's leader!"

"You… no way," she snorted, smiling as she placed her hands on her hips. "The Southern Water Tribe has only one teenager manning their defenses, and he's the tribe leader, too?"

"Maybe we're in the wrong place," the old man suggested, stroking his beard.

"It's possible," his niece replied, still staring at Sokka pointedly. "But it's the closest settlement to the flare, isn't it? And we did see the Avatar skipping about in the ice earlier…"

"I can only hope I'm that flexible and nimble when I'm that age," the man laughed. His niece scoffed.

"You can't even finish climbing the tower's stairs without your knees aching, Uncle…"

"I can work out and regain my good shape, Princess Azula, no need to shame me for not exercising often these days…"

Sokka's eyes widened upon overhearing those words: Princess Azula, he'd said? And they were talking about… the Avatar? Did they believe Aang was the Avatar? If so… then he definitely needed protecting, rather than banishing. Curses, why did everything have to be so complicated…?

"Y-you… you're the Fire Nation Princess?" Sokka asked. She frowned but glared at him, no longer distracted by her uncle.

"Something like that," she said. "Feel more willing to help us track down your Avatar now? Or will this pointless back and forth continue until we freeze to death standing out here?"

Sokka snarled, uneasy. If Aang was the Avatar, he couldn't hand him over to the Fire Nation, not even if they allegedly had come in peace. How could he ever trust a claim like that? Fire Nation people were ambitious, and surely deeply treacherous… these two couldn't be any different. Even from up here, Sokka could tell they were intelligent… they were likely strategists, hoping to trick them somehow. And whatever game they thought they'd play at the expenses of his people, he refused to go along with it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, so get out and find your Avatar someplace else. We don't have any Avatars here," Sokka declared. The Princess below scoffed.

"Really, now? So that skipping airbender we saw wasn't the Avatar? You're harboring other air nomads here, then? Fine, they'll be useful at tracking down the real thing anyway…"

"There's no one here! No airbender!" Sokka shouted. "There's only women and children inside these walls, and you won't find any Avatars or airbenders or…!"

A sudden, whooshing sound caused the Princess and the uncle to turn sharply to their right: something was rushing their way through the snow. The Princess took up a defensive firebending form immediately, but her uncle spread an arm before her as the shape came closer…

"A child?" the Princess said so softly Sokka nearly failed to hear her: he turned towards the noise as well only to feel his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

Aang was back, surely hoping to help the tribe. Oh, curse that boy and his good heart, why would he choose to return just now?!

"Aang! Go back! Get out!" Sokka shouted, but the young airbender's penguin simply continued to rush towards the two Fire Nation Royals.

Both Azula and her uncle had to leap out of the way so the penguin could continue onwards: the airbender, however, leapt off the creature's back and stood between them and the tribe, holding his staff while gazing at them steadily.

"You're the airbender? The Avatar? A… child?" Azula said, blinking blankly.

"Well, you're just a teenager," Aang said, simply, though he wasn't sure his response warranted as loud a bout of laughter from the old man beside the Princess. "Uh… what's so funny?"

"Ah, it's such a relief! He is a child! See, Princess, no amount of exercise will ever be enough for me to jump around the way he did, ahaha…!"

"Stop giving excuses not to stay fit, Uncle!" Azula hissed. "We're in no position to afford laziness, or sloppiness, and you're indulging in both by neglecting your health and training!"

"Uh… what's going on?" Aang said, blinking blankly before glancing up at Sokka on his tower.

"I know just about as much as you do, buddy," Sokka said, grimacing. "Though… sorry for kicking you out. And thanks for coming back."

"My banishment is lifted?" Aang asked, smiling weakly. Sokka shrugged and hung his head.

"Guess so. Though this isn't over," Sokka said, frowning as he picked up his spear. "You two… last chance. Go back to your ship, and the airbender there won't hurt you."

"Ah, nonsense. Airbenders won't hurt anyone unless it's self-defense," the old man declared proudly. The Princess breathed out and glanced at the young boy before her.

"We're not here to hand you over to Fire Nation authorities, Avatar," she said. Both Aang and Sokka frowned. "If you truly are who we believe you are… then we'll be the very best allies you'll find if you have any hopes to bring back balance to the world."

"You… what?" Aang said.

Sokka frowned heavily and jumped, slipping down his tower and landing right next to Aang – by the tribe's front gates, Katara lurked, gazing out at the debate between the two Fire Nation visitors, her brother and her friend: where both Sokka and Aang were reluctant, dubious, the old man couldn't seem to stop smiling in a disarming manner… while his niece offered them a steeled glare, sharper than a blade, more unyielding than the sturdiest of metals:

"We need you to help us defeat the Fire Lady."

Where the villagers no doubt had expected a confrontation, they had found, instead, a diplomatic visit, of sorts. The soldiers had stayed aboard the ship, leaving the two royals to deal with the discussions and to convince the skeptical teenagers and the young Avatar to join their cause: it wouldn't be easy, but Azula was certain it could be done.

"I'm pretty confused as it is, but I guess I'll hear you out," the Avatar decided, smiling as they sat at the central fireplace of the village: Azula and Iroh sat with them, while the rest of the villagers – just as the warrior had claimed, women and children – watched from a safe distance. Acceptable, understandable caution, all things considered.

"What's this about a Fire Lady?" the warrior asked, frowning as he stared at Azula. "Last I knew, it was a Fire Lord who was throwing the world out of balance. When did that change?"

"To be precise? Five years ago," Azula said, simply. The warrior appeared perplexed, but curious enough to continue listening anyway.

"Our dad left about four years ago…" the teenage girl said, glancing at him with unease. "I guess we haven't heard from anything in the outside world since then… and even before that, news didn't spread much either."

"Naturally. You're in the South Pole, and with the war's politics being what they are…" Iroh said, shaking his head "Everyone has taken to isolating, instead of thinking clearly: a coalition between Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe and Fire Nation rebel forces would more than suffice to topple my sister-in-law's regime."

"Your sister-in-law?" the warrior repeated.

"My mother," Azula said, curtly. The words seemed to send a powerful ripple of confused understanding through all her three new acquaintances.

"Y-your mom…?" said the Avatar.

"She is the Fire Lady. Has been, since Fire Lord Azulon died mysteriously on the night he demanded for my brother to be killed to punish my father's transgressions," Azula explained, gritting her teeth. Sharing such memories with strangers wasn't easy, despite she had grown used to discussing them in recent times. "My father was crowned on the next day. He was dead too, within the week."

"Wait… your mom killed them?" asked the warrior, aghast. "Y-you're saying…"

"I'm saying she's leading the Fire Nation as we speak. Has been, for the past six years," Azula said, staring at the young man intently. "She has avoided every political reprieve sent her way, hell knows how, and ensured to stay on the throne under the guise of being my brother's regent: he will come of age within a few months, and once he does, he'll be Fire Lord in her stead. One step out of line, however, and…"

"You keep saying that, Azula, but I doubt Ursa would kill Zuko…" said Iroh. Azula scoffed.

"I'm her daughter. She banished me. I know she prefers him over me, but that hardly makes her an innocent person, let alone is she incapable of protecting her own interests to the point of sacrificing her own family," Azula snarled.

"Why did your mother banish you?" the warrior's sister asked. "That's awful!"

"She found a petty excuse, started an argument I didn't back down from. Demanded that I should be taught respect and tasked me with tracking down the Avatar and handing him over to her to prove my loyalty and worth to my nation," Azula explained, rolling her eyes. "I have no intentions of doing such a thing, if you expected otherwise: I don't trust that woman. Even calling her my mother revolts me. That she killed my father is…"

"Now, now, Azula…" Iroh said, patting his niece's back. She flinched away from his touch, but attempted to focus again.

"She sent my uncle Iroh with me, because he's yet another threat to her ill-gotten throne," Azula declared. "The two of us were investigating, looking into both my father and grandfather's deaths, if independently… and she knew it was only a matter of time before we unearthed solid evidence of foul play. Granted, the situation is as fishy as can be, as things stand, but…"

"But she has managed to play everything off as a coincidence so far," said Iroh, grimacing. "I wasn't in the Fire Nation when she took the throne… by the time I arrived, she was much too comfortable on her seat. I couldn't do anything but offer my assistance to Azula, and hope to guide Zuko away from her, but…"

"But you'd never succeed at that," Azula said, bitterly. "My brother is the only one who's better off with this arrangement. I don't think I ever saw him quite so happy."

"I guess he's the favorite kid?" Sokka asked. Azula scoffed.

"Hers? Yes. Iroh's, too. He's stuck with me because he has no choice."

"Oi! I do appreciate you, Azula! We've been scheming together for three years now!"

"That's no evidence to contradict my claim," Azula said, dismissively. Iroh's outrage amused the Avatar and his female friend slightly, though the warrior only continued to watch the Princess pointedly. "My father did favor me, and he wasn't kind to my brother. Neither was my grandfather, who outright asked for him to be executed, so…"

"What a messed-up family," sighed the warrior, shaking his head. "So you two don't like each other but are stuck together, your mom is in the Fire Nation grooming your brother into being her perfect brainwashed tool, and your dad is dead, and your grandpa is dead too because he wanted to have your brother killed? Is that how it is?"

"Uh… yeah. More or less," Azula said. He sighed.

"And what exactly do you expect to accomplish next?" he asked. "You want Aang to help you take down your mom? You're on some quest for revenge or something?"

"You could say that, yes," Azula said. He scoffed.

"And how do I know you're not simply going to hand him over to Fire Nation authorities, so your banishment gets revoked and you're free to live your life as you wish?"

"You'd know it if you'd known me for longer than you have," Azula replied, with a dry grin. "I'm no fool: I don't long for my mother's approval, I want her held accountable for her crimes. Even if I went home, and she pretended to love me and accept me because I brought her the Avatar, it would amount to nothing more than a pretense. Within another two years she'd find another excuse to get rid of me, and where would I find anyone else to help me depose her then?"

"But the problem is your mom, right? Not your brother," said the Avatar, tapping his chin. "So if he becomes Fire Lord… wouldn't we have to fight him instead?"

"You don't truly believe that my mother, after all her scheming, would set down her crown and throne and leave my brother to rule without her 'guidance', do you?" Azula asked, skeptical. "She'll control him, without his awareness. A puppeteer, you could say, ensuring the Fire Lord doesn't go astray, meaning, she intends to retain his loyal to her at all costs. My brother isn't the problem, it's her."

"And how do you plan on defeating her, without causing him any trouble?" the warrior asked. "I feel like if we help you guys, and you're not tricking us at all, we'll end up going from one problem to the next: take out the Fire Lady, and her son will follow on her footsteps and set the whole world on fire. Right?"

"That's exactly why our intent isn't as violent as you may think," Iroh said, with a weak grin. "I assumed the Avatar would be old… perhaps too old to be of use. But he's young! And, I'm sure, inexperienced with all four elements. Right?"

"Uh… I'm afraid so," the Avatar admitted, with a lukewarm grin.

"Then the course is clear! He must learn all the elements before becoming the protector of harmony in our world," Iroh grinned. "Though… I don't know if you can learn waterbending here. Last I knew, Fire Lord Azulon had…"

"Attacked our tribes, countless times?" asked the warrior, scowling.

"I'm the last waterbender left in the South Pole," the sister announced, sadly. Azula grimaced.

"Then… ugh. It means he'd have to learn up north instead," said Azula, glancing at Iroh… to find him grinning madly, of course. "Well, then. Out with it. You have an idea, don't you?"

"A lot of them, actually," he giggled. "Pakku is in the North! And Bumi in the Earth Kingdom. I can be the firebending teacher, and…"

"Bumi?!" exclaimed the Avatar, his eyes wide. "Y-you know Bumi? Wait, how do you know Bumi? Is Bumi still alive?! I thought I'd been frozen for a hundred years!"

"Uh… huh. That explains your youth, at least," said Iroh. Azula grimaced, resolving to explain more about that particular matter later. "And… yes. I believe King Bumi is well past his hundred years. If you know him… then all the better! I can see to it that you train and develop your skills as the Avatar little by little, young man. What do you say?"

"Well, I say we have to think about it," the warrior declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not to look a gift ostrich horse in the beak, but…"

"Can I come too?!"

"K-Katara?!"

Despite the Avatar appeared nervous, it seemed he would agree to their proposal, and the waterbender was absolutely stoked about joining them, too: the warrior was the only one with obvious doubts, and while Azula held his accusatory, distrustful gaze with relentless defiance, Iroh only laughed and clapped cheerfully.

"It seems we have quite the journey ahead of us!" he declared, deliberately ignoring the warrior's obvious displeasure, focusing only on the far more cheerful and agreeable response of the waterbender.

Azula guessed the warrior boy might be trouble, and yet she couldn't blame him for it in the least: the readiness of the other two to trust them was surprisingly agreeable and yet proof of how innocent and gullible they were. They were rather fortunate that they had no ill-intentions indeed, Azula reasoned, after she returned to her ship that day: the soldiers welcomed her, ever ready to obey her every command. The highly questionable Fire Lady, in whose veins did not flow any royal blood, had failed to charm every soldier to her favor. Where she had hoped, no doubt, to get rid of her most dangerous opponents by tossing them in the sea with the least reliable soldiers in her army, her decision had been double-edged: Azula and Iroh had joined forces, and within less than a few months, the entire ship answered to them, and only to them. It was one starting point of rebellion, one Azula hoped they'd be able to expand further… but only after they gained enough political relevance and power to challenge her mother's rule, and her brother's, if it came to that. The Avatar was the key to achieving that goal.

Noise by the ramp surprised Azula as she paced on deck. She stepped close to the ship's railing to find the warrior boy, naturally, had approached the ship. What did he want? Shouldn't he be packing, or resting, before setting out on their long voyage?

Despite her better sense told her otherwise, Azula made her way down to the ramp indeed, finding the soldiers had been reluctant to let him through. The warrior pouted rather childishly, and she sighed as she stepped between the soldiers and himself, startling him when he failed to notice her presence.

"Do you need something?" she asked, directly. His childish expression faded quickly.

"Just… wanted to talk," he said, raising his hands defensively. "I won't do anything bad, I promise."

"Hmm. You promise, then," Azula said, releasing a breath before ordering the soldiers to let him through.

The two made their way to the deck, a small walk Azula found no wonders in, considering she'd traversed the full extent of her ship countless times in the past. To the warrior beside her, however, it was likely the first Fire Nation battleship he had ever entered. His amazement was apparent… and yet he voiced no compliments, containing his amazement as best he could. And while he studied his future means of transportation, Azula studied him: he was perhaps slightly older than her, and yet burdened with a much more dangerous duty than he himself had likely ever realized. Where Azula would have been forced to stay in her brother's mediocre shadow, if her mother had her way, this young warrior was expected to protect his people at all costs…

"So… what do you need to talk about?" she asked him, as they came to a halt on the deck. He grimaced.

"Well… I'm just worried," he said, earnestly. "Look, I'm sorry for what your mom's done, and I really don't know how I'd react if anything like that had ever happened to me, but… are you against the Fire Nation? Or just against her?"

"You're wondering if I'll want to continue the war after she's defeated and replaced?" Azula asked. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I just… don't know where your loyalties really lie. And I think I should, before we join you in this trip. I don't know if I can trust you."

"I never did ask you to trust me, did I?" she said, plainly, but he scoffed.

"Just by asking us to join forces with you, or rather, asking Aang… you're silently asking me to entrust the best hope this world has to you. Maybe you didn't say the words directly, but you're asking for trust anyway. And…"

"And you'd be a fool to give it to me blindly when we've only just met," Azula concluded. The warrior released a breath… perhaps relieved she understood his plight. "My father trusted my mother, no doubt: she took advantage of that trust to kill him. Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to ask for trust… or to give it?"

He froze in place, their eyes holding each other's gaze firmly. Both of them had been through their own set of struggles, she realized that… but if he had come here looking for a heartfelt speech about how good a person she was, he was out of luck. Azula had no intentions to…

He smiled.

She blinked twice, and then he sighed, hanging his head while setting his hands on his hips.

"You know what? I can live with that," he said. Azula raised her eyebrows, puzzled.

"With… not being trusted?" she asked. He nodded.

"The Avatar's dead-sure his bison thing can fly, you know?" he said. "If you or your creepy uncle do anything on this trip that we can't accept… well, I'll be grabbing my two dorks, climbing on that saddle and getting as far from you guys as possible. And as you're not going to ask for trust, or give it, that should be fine by you, right?"

"It is, actually," Azula said, simply. "While I'd rather have the Avatar on my side… it's not a necessity either, despite Iroh is certain of the opposite. We're loyal to our own causes and purposes, and there's no reason why it should be any different. This is an alliance of convenience, nothing more."

"Sounds right to me," he said, extending his hand towards her. "By the way… my name is Sokka. I heard your uncle calling your name before, so… figured it was a good idea to tell you mine."

"Sokka, then?" she repeated, before raising a hand to clasp his. "Very well. Let's… not trust each other."

"Perfect," Sokka grinned.

It was an odd arrangement… yet one that brought a smile to Azula's face just as well. She had the strange feeling she could grow used to the warrior's presence, despite everything…

Their long journey began on the next day, after the three new passengers climbed aboard the ship, once they said their farewells to their fellow tribespeople. The journey to the North Pole would be long, and Azula wondered if those three would be able to endure the trappings of the steel ship without complaint… strangely, the Avatar was the most restless of the group, often taking off on gliding trips unless they neared any Fire Nation watchtowers. The waterbender had been quite eager to manipulate the seawater they were coursing through… but just as expected, she wasn't skilled enough to bend anything impressive yet.

The warrior was the least restless one, Azula had thought… until he happened upon her training with Iroh on the ship's deck one day. The old man often told her to take her drills calmly, to focus on her basics… but she didn't have time to take it easy. Her blue fire needed to be strengthened further, that was all there was to it…

"The source of firebending… isn't aggression," Iroh had said to her, on one afternoon. Azula scoffed and glared.

"Really? And that's why the way to conjure fire is by hugging people, right?"

"You misunderstand," Iroh sighed. "But hopefully you'll see in time. Firebending is an art… it isn't merely a means to an end. You can channel your rage through it… but that won't make you any stronger than you would be if you fought calmly, in direct contact with your inner fire."

"That's too bad," Azula hissed back. Iroh shook his head and made to leave… only stopping on his tracks upon finding someone stood by the threshold of the tower, watching them.

Sokka flinched and stepped out of the way, offering Iroh a guilty grin before glancing at Azula. The exiled Princess scowled at first, but surely he didn't bear any nefarious intent in mind, going by that goofy smile across his face.

"That… that was pretty impressive," he said, biting his lip. "Your fire… it's pretty cool, you know? That it's blue… it's not like everyone else's, right?"

"Indeed," Azula replied, bluntly.

"It's a sign of strength, I figure? Or something?" Sokka continued. "Well, whatever it may be a sign of… you're pretty good with your fire. Which, well, isn't something I ever thought I'd say to a firebender, but times change…"

"I guess they do," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose you're quite bored if you're watching my attempts to train…"

"Well… bored and a little curious," Sokka admitted, grinning awkwardly. "I thought I was ready to fight you before, but I guess I wasn't. I just… wanted to ask if it's okay if I train with you once in a while? You know, polish my skills…"

"Polish your skills?" Azula repeated, a hint of amusement crossing her face. "Why… I suppose that'd be fine, yes."

Sokka grinned brightly and rushed inside to collect his weapons when she told him to. By the time he returned, he was stretching and smirking proudly.

"Well, I sure hope you're ready, Princess. You haven't seen what I can do so far, so I think I have an advantage," he said, raising his club in her direction. Azula smirked too.

"Oh, the horror," she said, sarcastically. He flinched as she took up a stance. "Give me your best shot. You'll regret it if you don't."

And he did regret it, of course: as much as he tried, he couldn't seem to avoid the power of those blue flames. He dodged clumsily, attacked even more clumsily, but to Azula's amusement, he never asked for respite. He didn't beg for her to stop attacking. He was stubborn… and that was a good thing.

She defeated him on every round that day. He seemed discouraged for it, lying against the ship's railing while breathing heavily, his body overheated despite it was still rather cold. She approached him with a slightly more sympathetic smile than intended, taking her seat beside him.

"You're not very experienced in combat. That's all there is to it," she said. "Train with me some more, and you'll be able to withstand the strongest of firebenders without breaking a sweat."

"You sure?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "I thought I'd made a fool of myself…"

"Oh, you did, but it was a lot of fun. I can stand for a few more reasons to be amused," she said, grinning at him. He snorted and laughed, shaking his head.

"Great. I'm a laughingstock for the Princess. Just what I hoped for," he said, dropping his head against the railing.

"And what else were you hoping for?" she asked.

"Uh… respect of equals?" he said. She snorted and laughed outright, surprising him. "What? You don't have to laugh that hard…"

"You and I aren't equals, Sokka. On any level," she said, smiling at him. "Not yet, anyway. More training is required, without a doubt, if that's what you're looking for."

"Then I'll oblige," he said, smirking too. "You think I'll back away from a challenge just because you're pretty… uh, pretty intimidating?"

"Ah. I'm pretty?" she said. He grimaced and blushed.

"That's not what I said! I was just… looking for the right word!"

"Sure you were: pretty. That was it," Azula smiled. He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"Is this a thing girls do?" he asked, flustered. "Turning a guy's words against him mercilessly just because they feel like it?"

"I have no idea. Bu it's certainly something I do," she said, grinning at him.

She hadn't had much of a chance to try her luck with boys so far – she had been banished three years ago, and too busy trying to harvest evidence to prove her mother was up to no good on the years before that to look for any suitable matches. But if she wasn't misreading the situation… this warrior might actually harbor more than a wish for mutual respect for her. She wouldn't mind it much, if he did. He was easy on the eyes himself, there was no denying that…

"Guess I'll have to get used to it, then?" he said, smiling back at her. "Or… maybe I could, uh, try my luck at it too? You know, if you ever say I'm handsome…!"

"I'd never say that," Azula declared, proudly. Sokka scoffed.

"You could say 'hand', and right after, 'some', and then I could misinterpret it just as you did right now…" he said. Azula laughed.

"How so?" she smiled. "'Get your hand some ice, because I burned it so badly'?"

"See? There you go. You think I'm handsome too," Sokka declared. Azula laughed again, dropping her head against the railing as he smiled at her. "Alright, jokes aside… you have a nice smile, you know?"

"I'm not taking any of it as a joke, mind you," Azula declared. "But, truthfully I… haven't had much of a reason to smile for the past six years."

"Yeah… I can tell," Sokka whispered. "And I don't blame you. Though… at first I figured you got along better with Iroh than you do. You two seemed to be on the same page when you were at the tribe's doorstep… guess I just jumped to conclusions, huh?"

"I did say Zuko was his favorite, didn't I?" Azula said, her smile waning. "Truthfully… my mother assumed we would never be able to work together. That's why she exiled us this way, and she would have been correct in her assessment… if only Iroh and I weren't slightly sharper than she hoped we'd be. Even if we can't stand each other's guts, the bigger picture is the priority. Whatever happens after we've dealt with my mother, Iroh and I will work together until she's defeated. That's simply how it is."

"Your family really feels… awful," said Sokka, grimacing. "Not just that your mother's the worst person in the planet right now, apparently… but you can't even rely on your uncle even if you've been traveling with him for three years? I… can't imagine how difficult it must be to live this way."

"Your people have a rather different culture from mine," Azula said, simply. "Family… matters more to you. Far more than it matters to us, apparently."

"You're trying to do right by yours, though. In your own way," Sokka said.

"Am I?" Azula said. "You weren't wrong to say this is a quest of revenge. I don't even know how far it will take me, and even if it's my father I hope to avenge, I'll…"

"You'll fight and maybe even kill your own family?" Sokka asked, frowning. Azula shrugged.

"Is there any other choice?" she asked. "My mother isn't a firebender, but she will have all the strongest soldiers of our nation defending her. She will gain all the advantages she can obtain, anything to stay on the throne, or close enough to it, once my brother takes office. How can I pretend I'll defeat her through anything less than that?"

"She's still your mother," said Sokka, eyeing her with uncertainty.

"He was her husband. I am her daughter. Didn't stop her," Azula said, closing her eyes.

Sokka swallowed hard but conceded once he fell silent. Perhaps he knew there were some things in life you couldn't fix just by talking them out… perhaps he knew there were some people no one could fix with just a heartfelt conversation. If so, she certainly had been rather lucky to have it with him, rather than anyone who might have been more forceful about making her abide by their ideals…

"Will you… train with me again tomorrow?" Azula asked, softly. He blinked blankly but glanced at her with a weak grin.

"If you'll have me, sure thing," he said, grinning. Azula smiled and nodded.

They continued to train hard across the next weeks of their long journey: the weather changed as they progressed north, prompting Sokka to occasionally train with sleeveless shirts and, on one fatefully hot day, outright shirtless. It was outrageous… and yet she had been so distracted he had nearly beaten her for the first time on the day he had first done so. Utterly embarrassing.

She spent more time with him than she ever meant to, than she did with most everyone else. Iroh had taken to spending more time with the Avatar, and he offered the waterbender frequent advice, but the warrior… he seemed to be drawn to her. To find more common ground with her, to feel safer with her than with the soldiers, or her uncle… and it was strange. It felt right, even if her mind said it was wrong. For she was growing used to him… and she didn't think that was wise. She was supposed to stand strong, to need nothing, no one… and she certainly didn't need this boy. But… did he need her? Sometimes, when he gazed at her with those clear blue eyes after their sparring was done, she wondered if he did. And she also wondered what that would mean for her, if that was the case.

The Northern Water Tribe was magnificent, yet a dreadful mirror that reflected how miserable and downtrodden his own tribe was, back home. Sokka had been amazed by it until that reality had dawned on him… he gazed at Azula, finding she seemed utterly unconcerned with the regal glory of the location, focusing instead on preserving her body heat as best she could. She was used to this opulence… if anything, she probably felt at home with it. It suited her, Sokka thought, to a fault… what if she dressed up in a Water Tribe parka? Then it could match her blue fire, why not…?

He shook his head quickly as they were ferried into the depths of the tribe on a canoe that Iroh had somehow arranged for them. He'd been having strange thoughts about Azula for a while now, thoughts he was sure he shouldn't have. She was so driven, so determined, so set on her goals… becoming her sparring partner had been a good idea, both for her and himself, as even though he had never defeated her, his combat abilities had increased greatly with her as his opponent, or at least, he thought they had. He had more stamina and he had learned many things regarding how to read a bender's next movements. Seeing as she was a firebender, he expected that what he'd learned would come in handy in the future.

But that was it, wasn't it? He'd said it himself: he didn't trust her, and neither did she trust him. As far as he could tell, she didn't trust anyone, not even her uncle… and considering what she'd been through, he didn't blame her for that. Yet the more he sympathized with her, the less he distrusted her… was that healthy? Was it a good idea to like her better than he should have…? With every glance he stole in her direction, he knew in his mind it wasn't, but in his heart…

They were welcomed with pomp and splendor, and Sokka felt more and more out of place with each passing moment. He wasn't sure why he felt so inadequate, or why he felt the need to stand beside Azula throughout the whole matter… perhaps he feared this was some sort of trap, too. That the northerners would consider them traitors, and would capture Aang, Azula and Iroh and send them giftwrapped to the Fire Lady… even the welcoming smiles of the local Princess, who seemed to get along fairly well with Katara as they sat together during the welcoming feast, didn't reassure him at all. And the balding, bitter man Iroh had proposed as Aang's new waterbending teacher didn't help matters much either.

Maybe he was simply used to expecting the worst from people, at this point: on the next day, Master Pakku accepted Aang as his student gladly, and rejected Katara, outright, for he refused to teach women how to fight. Sokka had spent most that day waiting for Azula to finish her meetings with Iroh and the tribe's leaders when Katara stormed in, revealing her outrageous struggle to him.

"He's a jerk! Why wouldn't I be allowed to fight just because I'm a girl?" Katara exclaimed. "He wants me to learn healing? I've never healed anyone with bending! I know other techniques to do that, but not with bending! What if I can't heal someone, and I waste all my valuable time here learning something I can't even do?!"

"Uh… I don't know?" said Sokka, grimacing: the door swung open then, and Katara glanced at Azula and Aang, who had arrived at the same time.

"You okay, Katara…?" Aang asked. Katara huffed.

"Of course I'm not! That Master Pakku is the worst!" she exclaimed.

"Why's that?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose I shouldn't take for granted that any of my uncle's associates are worthwhile, but… I had hoped he wasn't completely worthless."

"Well, he thinks I can't learn waterbending combat because I'm a girl," said Katara. Sokka grimaced, glancing at Azula with uncertainty, wondering what her reaction would be…

"Wow. And here I assumed these people were civilized," Azula said, with a sarcastic grin. Katara grinned brightly at the obvious, expected support from a successful, powerful female warrior. "So much opulence and fancy halls, and yet they're the most backwards nation I've seen, if this is how it is."

"Well, it's not like we were much better off down south…" Katara admitted, shooting a glare at Sokka. "Someone had a thing for telling me I should stay back and let him handle all the fighting, or, how was it? 'Leave it to a girl to mess everything up'?"

"Hey! Not like I was wrong, was I? You kept soaking my clothes!" Sokka pouted.

"Not the point! Me being a girl has nothing to do with whatever I can do with my bending!" Katara declared. "And that stupid, uptight, stick-in-the-mud Master Pakku…"

"You… seriously said that kind of stuff?"

Sokka froze in place: it felt like his heart had stopped upon hearing Azula speak with such stark disapproval to him. He grimaced under her skeptical stare: just what he needed, the girl he liked would think he was a…

The girl he liked? That thought alone jumpstarted his heart again immediately.

"It's not… it's not really like that?" Sokka smiled awkwardly. "I mean, big brothers always mess with their sisters, right?"

"Right," said Azula, dryly. Sokka grimaced: she didn't believe him. Oh, hell, she didn't believe him. She turned towards Katara again, though, with a proud grin. "Well, then… I guess you need a solution for your dilemma. And I think I need a new sparring partner too, so…"

"W-what?! Hey! That's not…!"

"What do you say we give that Master Pakku a rather alarming surprise?" Azula suggested, smirking at Katara. Sokka could swear he had never seen his sister's eyes glisten so brightly.

"I have no idea what you have in mind… but the answer is yes. Absolutely, yes," Katara said, beaming.

Master Pakku would obviously expect that the stubborn waterbender would rebel against him. Thus, Azula recruited even Aang for her plan: the Avatar was perplexed over his role, but apparently, walking at night across several ice streets, on his way to a supposed hiding place, was as good a plan as any.

Sokka, of course, was barred from joining the plan. Azula wasn't sure why she was so outraged, she wasn't completely surprised that women would be dismissed as irrelevant in combat by certain cultures… but perhaps it had something to do with the suspicion that he wouldn't have held back against her, not even on their first encounter. He had sparred with her constantly, failing to defeat her… and not once had he voiced any dismissing words or thoughts like those Katara had credited to him. Maybe it was true, and he was merely an annoying older brother… or maybe it wasn't true, and he simply didn't see Azula as a woman.

And why, oh, why did that thought bother her so damn much?

She was being an idiot, she knew, but she had no time to think about that. Instead, she encouraged Katara to step closer to the nearest stream, and the waterbender did as much, most willingly.

"Now, then… follow my lead. Only, bring water with you, and perform the movements with me," Azula decided. Katara nodded.

"Then… I'll learn fire-waterbending?" she smiled. Azula shrugged.

"Seems like it. Now, then, pay attention to the sequence of my movements… every last one of them."

Azula shifted from kata to kata, conjuring firebending with her renowned expertise. Katara swallowed hard as the short sequence was finished, and she sought to repeat it, carrying water with her: the result wasn't particularly impressive, and yet the water had obeyed her more than when they had been on the ship. Katara grinned brightly at her, and Azula smirked.

"Let's keep going, then," she said. "I have the feeling you'll learn a lot of fire-waterbending for sure."

"Thank you for this, really," Katara laughed. "I know it's not the traditional way, but… who cares, right? If the traditional waterbending styles are meant to be for men, I'd rather find my own way to bend instead."

"Sounds about right," Azula smirked. "Alright, next sequence…"

"Oh, hey, guys!" Aang's voice came from the ceiling of a building: he airbent himself down to the river and smiled peacefully, despite he was, quite apparently, nervous. "Want some help? I can give you a few tips, Katara…"

"No need for that, Avatar," Azula said, raising her voice unnecessarily. "Outdated bending will never defeat the Fire Nation. I'll teach her a far better combat method, so much better you'll be begging her to teach you, rather than the other way around, once I'm through with her…"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Azula turned, staring at the elderly waterbending master with nonchalance as he stood at a bridge, overlooking their alleged hideout. Katara tensed up, and Aang fell off his air scooter, grimacing at Pakku's obvious loss of temper.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Azula said, simply. "I'll teach her combat waterbending. Why? You'd rather to do it yourself?"

"What a childish claim… your culture is different from ours, Princess Azula!" Pakku declared. "Don't expect to impose your values here!"

"Oh, but I want her to teach me. I asked you, you said no, she offered, and I'm taking her up on that offer," Katara said, simply. "And hey! You have no power to stop her!"

"Unless you have anything else to add, feel free to walk away," Azula said, waving a hand dismissively at Pakku. "Katara has to learn to defend herself as best she can, after all. We may eventually be caught in a path of violence, and she refuses to be dead weight for the rest of us. Who knows? She might even end up saving the Avatar's life…"

"Don't ridicule me! That sort of notion could never…!"

"You know? Maybe this is why they're still winning."

Sokka's voice startled everyone, breaking across the near-scripted encounter with complete naturality: he had sneaked up on Pakku, and he stood beside him, glancing between his friends and the waterbending master, who turned towards him in confused outrage.

"You saw her, didn't you? She's a powerhouse," Sokka said, smiling at Azula. "A girl that strong… she might be the greatest firebender in the world, don't you think? She can even bend blue fire! When had you ever heard of something like that? And you know what? Maybe some of the girls you've refused to teach could have been as strong as Princess Azula was. Then… maybe the Fire Nation could've been stopped before the war escalated this much. Meanwhile, the Fire Nation is perfectly willing to train their girls, and Azula is an example: if she weren't a rebel, she'd be fighting against us, and I can tell you, that would suck big time. She's the strongest girl I've ever met… and I have no doubts she'd kick my ass, and yours, and everyone else's, if given a chance. Maybe… maybe you should give my sister a chance, too. If a girl's power can be the driving force to end this war… why not support her? Why not teach her? Why not break old traditions that don't make any sense?"

Pakku scowled, but confusion crossed his eyes. For a long moment, Sokka stood there, holding the man's gaze… only for Pakku to storm off without another word. Sokka grimaced and sighed, glancing at Katara apologetically after Pakku's footsteps were undoubtedly gone.

"Sorry, I… hoped I could help," he said. "Guess I messed it up."

"You didn't…!" Katara gasped, smiling brightly at Sokka. "You… you really think all that, Sokka? Or are you just trying to impress Azula, now…?"

"W-wha…?! Hey! Of course I think so! All I just said is true!" Sokka exclaimed, blushing as both Katara and Aang laughed.

"Well… even if he won't teach you, you can learn with me and Azula!" Aang said, beaming at Katara as the two of them started on their way back to their given rooms, across the bridge Sokka stood at. "Teaching waterbending with firebending… it sounds fun, right?"

"It was! I don't know how effective it'll be, but it was!" Katara grinned, and she continued to chat animatedly with Aang as they walked back to their quarters.

Sokka stayed behind, waiting for Azula to reach the bridge too. She released a breath as she stepped towards him, stopping at arm's length.

"All you said was true, for sure," she said. "Whether you truly believe it or not, it is. That the driving force in the war right now is a female non-bender ought to speak lengths about how no one should be underestimating women. It's the entire reason my mother got away with everything she did until now…"

"True… and I won't lie to you, okay? I think you've had people lying a lot to you throughout your life. I don't want to be like them," Sokka whispered. "I did think, back before I knew you, that women had some very specific duties… and men had other duties, too. That's how I was raised, and I did say a lot of stupid things to Katara because of it. I mean… it doesn't mean I'm a monster, I hope, but… I know now it was wrong. After all I've trained with you, and all the time I've spent with you, now I'm… I'm able to look back and know I messed up. I shouldn't have said the things I did to Katara, not even if I was just trying to be an annoying older brother…"

"If you truly know that… then I guess it means you should come up with more creative ways to annoy your sister, from this day forward," Azula said. And Sokka grinned brightly once he saw she was smiling, too. "I'll choose to believe you truly have changed… because if you somehow don't think I'm a girl, and that's why you trained with me for all this time…"

"W-what?! Heck, that's what you thought?! Hell, no, absolutely not, Azula…!"

"I mean, I'd hope you wouldn't think that, you did say I was pretty, so…"

They both talked over each other, and only stopped when the other did. A light laugh left both their lips, and Sokka smiled fondly at her.

"I do think you are pretty, you know?" he said. "Though… I guess that's not too relevant to the conversation, is it?"

"Isn't it?" Azula whispered, softly. "You think I'm pretty… and the most powerful firebender in the world, too?"

"Uh… yeah. I think that sums it up," Sokka grinned. Azula laughed again, shaking her head.

"I guess I should thank you, if anything. For what you did just now, and… for everything else," Azula whispered, gazing at him intensely. Sokka's chest tightened: everything else? What did that even mean…?

The question vanished in his head once she stepped closer, leaning forward… and he followed suit, catching her lips with his own clumsily. He didn't really know how to do this, he'd never done it before… and neither had she. But they stood where they did, under the dark skies in the North Pole, sharing a strange, sincere, peaceful moment where no wars weighed on their minds, no conflicts, no pursuits of revenge…

He held her in place, feeling closer to Azula than ever before, and not only because they were kissing: despite their starting point had suggested otherwise, by now he found himself trusting her, wholeheartedly, even if he shouldn't have. For even if the Fire Nation would never reassure him, he thought he understood her loyalty better after today. It wasn't a matter of nations, not for her… it was a matter of standing by those you treasured, come what may. And while she shouldn't have grown fond of them, for a myriad of reasons, she wouldn't have helped Katara so readily if she hadn't felt a powerful kinship with all three of them by now. Perhaps he could see through Azula better now, if just a little…

Surprisingly, Pakku relented on the next day: he took to training Katara personally, freeing Azula to spar with her and Aang on evenings, so the waterbenders could test their skills against firebenders like herself. Mornings, however – if they could be called that, it was always damn dark in this pole, as far as Azula could tell – were much more exciting: she'd spend the whole time with Sokka, training with him just as well… and occasionally doing something other than training, too. They were still young, and they had much left to learn… and as it was, they were quite busy learning how to kiss properly. And with every joyful grin their secretive exchanges elicited in Sokka, Azula's heart soared too. Suddenly it was all too easy to forget she wasn't merely taking a trip with friends, seeing the world, and that she had a rather important task in mind…

She guessed everyone had figured out what was brewing between her and Sokka by the time Iroh decided they'd do best to leave already, once all alliances were settled, and the two waterbenders had learned plenty by Pakku's standards. They didn't walk hand-in-hand, nor did they make any sorts of affectionate gestures in public… but Sokka never stopped smiling goofily at her. It wasn't unpleasant, of course. She could withstand it, no doubt. Though she did fear that, if this kept up, her uncle would congratulate her, and even offer unwanted love advice… ugh, just the idea was embarrassing and sickening.

Yet their new journey was different, now that they were together, in some strange way. She shared her meals with Sokka, visited him in his cabin, and he visited her in hers. They spent occasional afternoons napping together, or talking, or simply cuddling… and all of it had been smooth, perfectly agreeable, filling her chest with a joyful warmth she was sure she had never experienced before. She shouldn't lower her guard so much, she knew that… but Sokka felt safe. He was a good person… he couldn't lie, it wasn't in his system. And he valued people… he treasured them. That was why he could hold her so closely, why his strong heartbeats could soothe her, why his voice sent blissful shivers down her spine…

It was slowly becoming the best period of her life. She didn't need anything but his sweet good night kisses, and his stubbornness as they trained together, and his clumsy flirty remarks that charmed her even if her common sense told her she shouldn't find them all that amusing. She wanted more of this, more of him…

Until they reached Omashu, and reality slammed into her with the force of an avalanche once they glimpsed the red-and-black banner of the Fire Nation dangling at those gates.

"She made another move. She's… she's going to take more and more Earth Kingdom bastions until everything is under her control!" Azula had exclaimed, fists tightened as she glared at the city.

"Calm yourself, Azula," Iroh said, breathing deeply. "We… we may yet find a way in."

"Bumi…" Aang grimaced, lowering his gaze. "We're too late to help…"

"I doubt it. I'm sure we can get in somehow," Sokka said, stubbornly. "The Fire Nation can't be that infallible. And hey! They probably didn't kill your friend Bumi either, Aang, because if he's king, like Iroh says, he's too valuable to kill anyway! So that means we have a chance to save him, alright?"

"You're right… you're right!" Aang said, frowning with determination. "I'll find Bumi. I mean, I hope I can recognize him even now, but I'll do it! And I know just the way to get inside the city!"

The way inside, as it happens, included a trip through sewers that Iroh, naturally, refrained from taking part of. He claimed he'd stay outside, with their soldiers, ensuring to stay hidden while he left the difficult job to the youngsters since they'd, allegedly, blend in easier. No, Azula didn't believe for a second that he was doing it for any other reason besides being appalled by the notion of waddling through literal rivers of shit.

But the more shocking moment of the experience came afterwards: as much as they tried to sneak through the city unnoticed, they failed to be stealthy enough to avoid hostilities by Fire Nation soldiers. And while Aang and Katara managed to keep most at bay with their bending, a sudden flurry of projectiles cast towards Sokka when he was busy parrying a soldier's flames with his club, caused Azula to leap forward and banish them away from him with a blast of blue flames… and a familiar voice suddenly spoke, in the darkness of Omashu's night streets:

"Azula?"

Those projectiles. That voice. Azula froze in place as she raised her gaze to find a silhouette so familiar, and yet so much more grown than she had last seen it. It couldn't be anyone else but her, though…

"Mai," she spoke, swallowing hard. No, she wasn't ready to confront her former friend, she truly wasn't, but if it came to it…

Mai seemed to snarl and rush towards them: that was Azula's first sign that something was different. Aang and Katara geared up to defend themselves, but Azula stretched her arm before them, stopping her new friends from attacking the old, who merely raced through streets, silently asking her to follow. And so Azula did, leading her three companions while ignoring and disregarding the soldiers shouting after them – as well as Mai's mother, who appeared to be aghast that her daughter had rushed off somewhere, straight towards the action.

After much running through maze-like streets, they reached a small, empty hut that stank of stale fish, a smell Azula found most distressing, but it seemed that very stench would serve to ward off the soldiers, as per Mai's logic. She ushered them inside and then they waited: the troops rushed past, searching further down the streets, assuming no one would be hiding within the old market's fishing storage room.

"My parents shut this place down about a week ago," Mai explained. "I knew it'd be empty. I try not to pay attention to their boring business, but…"

"Why would they even shut anything down?" Azula asked, aghast. "Mai, what are you doing here?"

"So… she really is your friend?" Sokka asked, with an awkward smile. "Not that I doubted you, Azula, but maybe a little heads-up would've been nice."

"I didn't think we'd have time to introduce you all when escaping from rabid soldiers, mind you," Azula sighed, shaking her head. Mai raised her eyebrows.

"Huh. You found yourself a boyfriend, then?" she asked. Both Sokka and Azula flinched and blushed, grateful that the darkness of the room wouldn't allow anyone to pick up on their reactions all that easily.

"He's…! W-well…" Azula mumbled. Sokka pouted.

"Not really like we've discussed what terms we want to use, so, uh, I mean…"

"Yes. He is her boyfriend," Katara said, with a blunt smile. "And I'm his sister. And this is…"

"Their friend," Azula cut off, once Aang's introduction came next. "Just as she is Mai, my old friend from school."

"I'm surprised you've made so many new friends, actually. You were never much good at that," Mai said, bluntly. "But it's a good thing, I guess, so… congratulations. Invite me to the wedding."

"We're a little too young to get married, right?" Sokka said, with a small voice. "But, well, if you wait for a few years, surely…"

"Surely?" Azula asked, startled.

"W-well, I mean, once I convince you I'm worth marrying, right?"

To Azula's surprise, Mai snorted. She couldn't remember when was the last time she ever heard her friend laugh – maybe she never had, actually. She turned a confused stare towards Mai, who shook her head sadly.

"Must be fun, huh? Not having everyone choosing your life for you," she said. "Not that I complain too much about my lot, I could be worse off, but… I'm not in Omashu because I want to be, for starters. The armies took the city a few months ago. My father was offered the position of governor, and he accepted it without a second thought. We've been here for a week and I already want to die if it means release from this drab place…"

"My mother…" Azula said. Mai tensed up immediately. "This was all her doing, obviously. Do you know anything else about her plans? Anything…?"

"What are you trying to do?" Mai asked, eyeing Azula with unexpected compassion. "You're not… trying to rebel against her, are you? It hasn't gone well for those who've tried…"

"I'm not stupid enough to be scared just because of that," Azula hissed. "Surely there's still enough dissenters…"

"Less and less every day," Mai said. Azula's heart sank. "She… gets rid of them. One by one, without leaving a trace. The Fire Nation… it's terrorized by its leader, I guess."

"And Zuko is fine with that? He doesn't do anything to…?" Azula said. Mai's eyes dropped to the ground at those questions.

"Zuko… has changed. Not to the point where he isn't himself anymore, but…" Mai said, grimacing. "He's not the boy who'd save me from burning apples anymore. Without you, without your father, he's different. Your mother's doing, I guess…"

"So… what, you don't care about him anymore?" Azula asked. If Zuko had changed so much that even Mai, who had loved him since childhood, couldn't endure it anymore… just what kind of madness was taking place in the Fire Nation?

"I didn't say that. I know his true self, his better sides, are still somewhere deep inside him," Mai said, closing her eyes. "But all this power, all your mother's teachings… they've done him a lot of harm. He's become… arrogant. He gets away with anything he wants to do. He can even hurt servants in fits of rage, if he feels like it, and… and no one cares. The servants vanish after. I… I've been with him, for all these years since you were banished. Technically, this assignment of my father's is meant to cement my eventual marriage to him, but… I can't be as excited about it as I was when I didn't know what I was signing up for."

"Then… it's my mother's influence. That's all there is to it," said Azula, looking at Mai pleadingly. "Join us. Help us release the king, and come with us. You can help us fight my mother, get Zuko back to who he…"

Mai shook her head slowly, and Azula's heart sank.

"If you want the king, I'll give him to you. But I… I can't fight against him, Azula. I may not be happy with who he is anymore, but… I love your brother. I think I always will."

"What…? No! You can't…! Mai, if you love him, that's all the more reason to fight!" Azula exclaimed, exasperated. "You should want to bring him back to who he was when you fell in love with him, you should…!"

"I'm not gullible enough to believe that's possible," Mai said, startling Azula. "It would be grand, if he chose to turn back into who he was before, but… I won't hold my breath. Innocence can't be regained when lost. I fear as much, at least."

Azula gritted her teeth, tightening her fists so much her nails dug into her palms painfully. So that was it? That was her choice? It was outrageous… unbelievable. It made no sense to Azula, and yet the reality of the situation dawned on her further: her mother had damaged the Fire Nation on every possible level she could have. She had corrupted her brother's once-pure soul, and turned him into someone even Mai couldn't love as wholeheartedly as she once had. She had done away with every smidge of resistance until there was nothing left… and now she was taking over every remaining city in the Earth Kingdom, no doubt intending to conquer every city left in the large continent, perhaps to gift the whole world to her puppet son once he reached his seventeenth birthday.

Those thoughts were tormenting her when Mai led them all the way to the statue being erected at the top of Omashu's tallest pyramid: Azula scowled upon recognizing it was made in her mother's image. How she wished to be an earthbender and tear the damn thing to pieces…

But where the king, suspended in a strange coffin, should have rejoiced over the opportunity to leave the city without a hassle, he instead refused to do so, surprising the previously thrilled Aang, who stared at him in chagrin at those words. The king made up some strange excuses about neutral jing, doing nothing, as an option in fighting, and claimed his moment to reclaim his city would arrive in due time. In the end, their venture into the second largest city of the continent was but a waste of time, and a rather depressing one at that. Mai led them to the sewers again, and Azula glanced at her as she walked away, knowing her friend meant her no harm with her decision… but knowing, too, that there was no way she'd change her mind. Zuko was Mai's priority… no matter what kind of man he might have become.

"We should simply teach him firebending! What's the point of sticking to the damn cycle of elements anyway? The idea is for the Avatar to learn it all! He's had two perfectly capable firebenders to teach him for months and we haven't taught him a single thing because you won't allow it!"

"The cycle is what it is for good reason, Azula. An airbending Avatar needs to learn how to ground himself before he can firebend, lest he will lose control of his fire in virtue of how volatile the element and his bending in general will be. The same is true for everything else! A firebending Avatar learns waterbending to temper his flames before the air stokes them out of control…!"

"And it's always the fire that's the problem. Funny philosophies you have, Uncle."

"My philosophies are the product of study and tradition. This is done this way for good reason, Azula: the Avatar is a delicate entity, and any mistakes in his upbringing could result in a catastrophe!"

"Then what the hell are we going to do, huh? Please, enlighten me!" Azula exclaimed, rising to her feet as she glared at her Uncle. Sokka grimaced, sitting beside her by the fire as they'd been. "Are we going to stay put because we can't convince one damn earthbender out of thousands to teach the Avatar? Do we let my mother get away with everything she's done so far? I thought we had an agreement…!"

"And we still do," Iroh said, sternly. "But we both agreed to be lenient with each other, flexible, until everything was resolved. And you aren't being that right now…"

"Neither are you, Mr. Tradition and Study," Azula scowled, shaking her head and storming off without another word.

Aang and Katara shrank awkwardly by the fire as Iroh sighed. Sokka, of course, grimaced and stood up.

"I'll go after her," he said. "Though… I do think I agree with her. Not just about the bending, but… what are we going to do if we can't release the king? You were betting on these alliances to be strong enough to defeat the Fire Lady… but is anything that powerful?"

"I… don't know," Iroh admitted, quietly.

Sokka sighed and walked away, following the trail Azula had left through. She sat by the edge of the mountain they were camping at, glaring at Omashu in the distance, when he took his seat beside her again.

"Want to make out?" Azula blurted out, suddenly. Sokka nearly fell off the mountain altogether at the sudden question. "Can't say I'm in the mood… but it might help me feel better."

"Well… maybe after we talk?" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. Azula sighed and buried her face in her knees. Sokka reached out, caressing her head. "Azula…"

"I get it now. I… I understand how you must feel about me," she said. Sokka froze, unsure of what she would mean by that. Was she trying to end things between them, somehow…? Oh, he sure hoped she wasn't… "I've kept rambling on and on about my revenge quest… but I've never said I'm against anything the Fire Nation did in the war, have I?"

"Uh… yeah. I guess you haven't," Sokka admitted.

"It's because I wasn't," Azula said. Sokka frowned, his fingers slipping down from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. "I saw nothing wrong… with everything that we'd done. Because I wasn't raised to see it, so I didn't care to. Even when we met… I just wanted to end the war at all costs because I thought it'd be the worst blow against my mother. But now… if I'm feeling so lost, so angry over Omashu being hers, the people there must feel a thousand times worse. As must have everyone else, all across the Earth Kingdom, and the old Air Nomad bastions… though those aren't even alive to resent the Fire Lords for it. And yet it took this much for me to see it."

"At least you see it now," Sokka said, biting his lip.

"But I also see why you couldn't trust me. It's why I never encouraged you to trust me, too," Azula mumbled. "I'm like Mai, aren't I? It doesn't matter if I know the Fire Nation is wrong, or breaking balance, I… I just want to fight for it. I want to do what's right by it. Even… if it doesn't deserve that."

"Heh… I don't know if the whole nation deserves your hard work or not," Sokka said, lowering his hand to clasp hers. "But you're not like her. You're taking action, right? You want to fight back. She's given up, but you never did."

"I'm not fighting the right battle, though, am I?" Azula said, glancing at him. "It doesn't end just with dethroning her. Not if she's corrupting Zuko as Mai says she did. Whatever my uncle may say or think about him, my brother… he has an awful temper. He's hot-headed and impulsive, and there's no way mother's death or forceful removal would ever sit well with him. He needs to understand what's wrong with the Fire Nation, just as I have, but… he won't. He just… won't."

"Then maybe the Fire Nation needs another Fire Lord," Sokka said, gazing at her meaningfully. Azula frowned before shooting him a wary glance. "Or… is it Fire Lady in this case too? I'm sorry, I don't really know…"

"I… take the throne? Instead of Zuko?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"If you want to, make it a temporary thing," he said. "Until he's seen enough of the world, if you can trust him to do what's right by his people if he learns better. Or you can just depose him for good, and take the throne yourself to guide the Fire Nation to a better future… I mean, you could, right? You've been friends with us… you've helped us, protected us, given us a chance to fight back, even if for your own reasons. I… I know I shouldn't trust you, right? But… I think I do now. Even if I didn't mean to… I do."

"So, if I let you down, I'll hurt you," Azula concluded, with a grimace. "That's fun…"

"I'm sorry if it's a lot of pressure," Sokka smiled sadly. "But… come on, I wouldn't make out with someone I can't trust."

"Why not? Could be fun," Azula huffed.

"Wait, it 'could' be? Here I thought you'd say you're doing that with me," Sokka smirked.

To his relief, Azula smiled before leaning in to kiss him softly. Sokka returned the gesture, finishing off by pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess I've ended up trusting you too. Curses, we're a mess," Azula sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his shoulder. "I just… feel at ease with you. I trust that you won't betray me… I trust that I understand you, no matter how different we are. And yet I… I can't trust the Fire Nation. I can't trust anyone there, not my friends, not my family, I… I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. And I can't say any of this to anyone but you… which is already a miracle. Because I… couldn't tell anyone, before I met you. I spent three years letting my thoughts fester…"

"And now you can share them with me" Sokka said, smiling warmly at her "Look… I don't know if I'll help at all by saying this, but before we met, I hated the Fire Nation. Now, because of you… I can't hate it, not really. What I'm thinking is… you're a product of that mess of a culture, just as everyone else you know is. But you're also proof that not everything in the Fire Nation is doomed, Azula. You're proof great things can come from it… and you're proof they can change their ways, too. If you've learned from all this… if you can't help but empathize with those who've lost their homes, their hope, their very nation… then it means you're the one better suited for breaking the Fire Nation's cycle, the best hope this world has. I know the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but… I'll be here. Even if your mom goes down, and your brother leaves you be, and you get to rule the Fire Nation and bring it back into proper harmony, I'll be right there with you, every step of the way."

"You… you took the marriage thing that seriously, huh?" Azula sakd, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"I like you more and more every day, as it is," he whispered. "I… I guess maybe at this point I even…"

"You even…?" Azula said, her heart racing as she waited for him to finish his sentence. He smiled and bit his lip, almost shyly.

"I even might love you. But, you know, I've never felt like this with a girl, so… it's all new for me and I don't know if it's love yet," he laughed. "I… kind of want it to be, though."

"You… want to love me?" Azula asked. Sokka grinned and nodded. "That's… a strange concept. But… it's somewhat cute, I guess."

"Glad you think so," Sokka chuckled.

Azula smiled as she leaned in to kiss him again. She hadn't said the words back, but this was the second-best follow-up, as far as he could tell. She wasn't quite so forthright with feelings, he had noticed… she had been far more honest tonight than in most their long conversations before he left for his cabin at night on the ship. He felt a little closer to her now, and that was a blissful sensation indeed. She had been troubled before, but now… she seemed hopeful. She had heard him out… and she understood him. Maybe she didn't agree with everything… maybe she didn't want to take the throne for herself in the end. But she smiled anyways after their kiss broke off, and his heart soared because of it.

Iroh seemed relieved when Azula returned in better spirits… and he didn't ignore the bold handholding between the pair of teenagers. He held back a smile, though he remained silent until Azula's voice reached him.

"Our next goal should be gathering support throughout the Earth Kingdom," Azula declared, firmly, as though she hadn't been upset mere moments ago. "I propose we go to the largest cities, especially if you have any contacts in them. We'll find a proper earthbending master for Aang eventually, I'd assume."

"That… yes, sounds reasonable," Iroh said, nodding. "Then… we'll leave Omashu be?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Azula sighed. "And we still have a war and a Fire Lady to stop. At all costs. If King Bumi is sure he can fix this himself somehow, it's his business, but we can move forward regardless. There's no reason to think the war effort should be over only because Omashu has fallen."

Her renewed determination, after her previous bout of frustration, had soothed Iroh deeply. He smiled again as they made arrangements to continue their journey, and while they wouldn't have it as easy to travel as before, for they'd need to leave their soldiers on the ship if they didn't want to garner unwanted attention in Earth Kingdom settlements, their reinvigorated direction aided the group's mood greatly.

The city of Gaoling was their next goal, and while Iroh took his time to arrange matters to gain the local nobles' favor, the younger members of the group busied themselves with finding an earthbending master for Aang. After a fruitless attempt to have him train in Master Yu's school, they found out about an underground earthbending battling ring… and while Azula enjoyed watching her boyfriend – the word still felt foreign, but she was growing used to it gradually – screaming excitedly to his heart's content over each combat, she enjoyed nothing quite as much as his horror when the champion of these duels stepped into the fray at last, and defeated Sokka's favorite fighter with nothing but a few well-calculated blows.

Aang had been convinced immediately that the small girl was his fated master, but his intervention in the fights, and attempt to challenge her only to request her help, hadn't gone so well. In the end, they wound up returning to the earthbending school in hopes to track down any information about the Blind Bandit, but their best attempts amounted to nothing. In the end, they merely followed Iroh into yet another one of his meetings with local nobles… and curiously, a small girl in the Beifong family looked enough like the Blind Bandit – and even acted like her, whenever her parents weren't watching, by lashing out at Aang when he dared tell her the dress suited her too – that it seemed they had happened to discover her identity all the same: the blind daughter of the richest family in Gaoling, Toph Beifong.

What followed that discovery was a spree of wild madness: Aang and Toph were taken prisoners by Sokka's admired earthbending fighter, and as much as Azula, Katara, Sokka and Iroh rushed to their rescue, Toph ended up defeating all the enemies herself. Even then, her parents seemed unwilling to allow her to leave with them… and it seemed she truly did wish to, despite she had rejected the notion of teaching Aang any earthbending so far, even after he told her he was the Avatar.

Yet, just as they were ready to give up…

"I… think I shall have a chat with the Beifongs, before we go," Iroh told Azula, with a bright grin. Azula blinked blankly.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "I thought you'd already said they weren't going to be much help in the war effort…"

"That's still true. But I may be able to resolve another problem, if I play my tiles right," Iroh grinned, patting her shoulder before reentering the Beifong mansion.

"What do you think he'll do?" Sokka asked, clasping Azula's hand in his own. Azula grimaced.

"Knowing him? Charm the Beifongs into letting Toph come with us," she said. Sokka scoffed, and Aang groaned.

"It'll never work…" Aang pouted. "They won't let her."

"It's not very likely," Sokka agreed. Katara sighed in defeat as well.

"We'll have to find someone else to…"

"Hey, guys! I'm coming with you!"

Toph voice broke through the conversation: they all turned around in utter disbelief to find the earthbender's parents were crying, hugging Iroh, talking about entrusting their daughter's safety to him. Toph was still wearing her fancy regal clothes, but she had put together a quick bag anyway, and she rushed towards them and Appa with the brightest grin on her face.

"Told you," Azula smiled dryly, as Sokka laughed and shook his head.

"He'd charm a starving man out of his last breadcrumbs, looks lik,e" Sokka said. "That's one less problem, right? We have our earthbender! And now…"

"Now… Ba Sing Se," Azula said, glancing at him with determination: that next goal would be pivotal, crucial, in ending the war to their favor.

They traveled by bison at first, intending to catch up with their ship again halfway through the ocean. Whenever they stopped for a short break, Aang and Toph would work on their earthbending training, or Aang and Katara would work on their waterbending instead. In the meantime, Iroh continued to craft his plans for the next stages of their rebellion… and Azula and Sokka either helped him or hid away for a while for further privacy, returning to the group half an hour later, holding hands and smiling rather carelessly. And while Azula had no intentions of chatting with her uncle about her growing relationship with the Water Tribesman, she certainly had noticed he seemed more likely to smile at her these days, watching over her as, perhaps, a doting father might… not that she thought her own father would ever have approved of this relationship, though. It was, perhaps, an advantage that it was Iroh with her right now, while she explored this rather new walk of life with Sokka.

Toph wasn't particularly thrilled to be stuck on a metal ship once they reached their favored means of transportation, and often demanded she and Aang took off on Appa so they could get some training done in the outskirts of the eastern Earth Kingdom. The pair had only returned from one such journey when one of the soldiers informed Iroh that Ba Sing Se's wall was within view.

"Very well… very well," Iroh nibbled on the tip of his thumb, as his niece stood beside him, arms crossed.

"How will we get in?" she asked. "I doubt we'll find a sewer to sneak through this time… and I also doubt I'll bump into any of my friends here to give us a hand. Do you have any contacts in the city?"

"Regrettably… none I've been able to reach," said Iroh. "But it makes no matter! We shall find a way through, Azula. I have a few ideas on how to do it: we can go incognito! Pretend to be travelers, innocent ones, completely harmless…"

"And how will innocent travelers ever earn an audience with the Earth King?" Sokka asked, blinking blankly: as ever, he stood beside Azula, a hand on her waist.

"Oh, you needn't worry, young man!" Iroh declared, proudly, rubbing his hands together. "I'll see to it myself. You'll be surprised just how far a careful set of words can bring you, if you speak them to the right person!"

"Huh…?" said Sokka, though he smiled at Azula. "Guess he might pull off the same thing he did in Gaoling, right?"

"Maybe. Is that what you intend?" Azula asked Iroh. He chuckled and shrugged.

"Just wait patiently, Princess Azula," he said, determined and enthusiastic. "I shall not lead any of you astray!"

"Well… that sure didn't go as planned, eh?" Iroh smiled awkwardly, at the four sets of glaring eyes that bore into him… and the scowling, sightless eyes that weren't aimed in his direction, but might as well have been.

Being stuck in a narrow space with Sokka's arms around her body wouldn't have displeased Azula under any other circumstances… but a prison cell could easily kill any romantic mood she might have felt, and she certainly had felt none from the moment they had been captured and dragged into Ba Sing Se as prisoners rather than honored guests, regardless of Iroh's many promises.

Their attempt to enter the city through the passports Iroh had procured for them – with the help of some mysterious associate he had met while they traveled with Appa near the Misty Palms Oasis – had been an absolute failure. While he had certainly charmed the woman at the counter, he had failed catastrophically at talking them out of a Dai Li inspection right afterwards. Even though all of them were clad in Earth Kingdom clothes, and Aang's every arrow was perfectly covered with a large hat and a tall collar, something about them had pissed off the earthbenders so much that they found themselves imprisoned in the Earth King's underground prisons now, and with very few hopes of escape, as far as they could tell.

"Ugh, just be quiet. I can try to get us out of here if I just… make a good key," Toph grumbled, using some of the earth of the ground to craft a useful method to either open or outright break the lock.

"We shouldn't even be here in the first place," Azula hissed, regardless of Sokka's soothing caresses to her hair. "What did you say to those bastards? It felt like they just decided to lock us up because they were annoyed by your rambling."

"Maybe. I am good at charming with words… not so good without them," Iroh admitted, stroking his beard.

"But it is excessive, isn't it?" Sokka reasoned. "I mean… unless they figured out who we are? Or at least, who you guys are? I'd think no one knows about Aang yet, right? Even in Omashu he didn't do anything too damning, did he?"

"No, and I deliberately held off from telling Mai who he was," Azula said. "While she's not a bad person, as far as I know, any information she gained on us could be used to destroy us. So… no, I didn't tell her. And in that darkness, I'm not sure if anyone could've noticed it if he was airbending."

"Then maybe they know who you and Iroh are," Katara mused, biting her lip. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Well… yes," Azula conceded.

"We're not very popular at the moment," Iroh admitted, closing his eyes.

"But would the Earth Kingdom know that?" Katara asked.

"They certainly know me as the man who tried to overtake their city, so… I can't say it's too surprising if they want me dead," Iroh admitted. "They may have simply seized us all just because they recognized me, despite the passports."

"And I guess maybe they could've captured Iroh to use him as a hostage to negotiate with the Fire Nation?" Sokka asked. "Just a thought…"

"Might just be the truth, actually," Azula mumbled, frowning.

That gloomy, discouraging possibility was followed up by a surprising sound: metal, screeching in a rather unexpected, unnatural manner.

"Toph?" Sokka called the youngest member of the group. She stood by the door and turned with a rather devious smirk.

"I, uh… think I discovered something," she said.

"Did you… y-you just broke through the metal door?!" Aang gasped, upon glimpsing that Toph's hand was past the door, through a small hole she had dug into it somehow. She couldn't have looked prouder.

"Guess… I'm a metalbender," she announced, grinning.

They were racing down the Palace basement's corridors moments afterwards, speeding up as fast as they could, hoping to find a hiding place, anywhere safe where they might be able to cheat the Dai Li, and either get out of the city or contact the king directly, and inform him of their situation. Aang spotted a staircase that led to the upper floors, and they all rushed towards it in a hurry…

"Wait. I sense people!" Toph exclaimed, grimacing before pulling out a chunk of the wall to use as a weapon against whoever stood outside the prison block's doors.

The others merely stepped out of the way while the earthbender heaved the massive projectile and tossed it, busting the door off its hinges, startling the soldiers in red and in green right outside the…

Red?

Azula's eyes widened when she identified those helmets, those dark uniforms, highlighted in crimson. But most of all, everyone gasped when an onslaught of fire scorched Toph's projectile and blasted it out of the way…

Azula's heart sank. It sank deeper and deeper as soon as she saw those crimson robes fully: Imperial Firebenders. That could only mean…

"Oh, dear. I suppose you've made rather uncivilized friends who cannot seem to greet others in an acceptable manner, haven't you? I expected something classier from you, Azula."

Her heart couldn't seem to settle between racing or stopping when her golden eyes found the honeyed-poison ones of the woman who had just spoken her name with derision. The woman who stood behind the Imperial Firebenders who had just stepped out of the way… revealing her, as well as a young man who stood beside her, proud and strong in his gold-lined armor, his chin held high despite his eyes betrayed a joviality and innocence that didn't befit a Crown Prince.

A joviality and innocence completely absent in the eyes of the woman he followed most obediently.

Azula felt Sokka tensing up beside her. She could tell Aang was nervous, that even Toph was doubting, that Katara was frantically looking for a way out, despite they were surrounded by hostile soldiers of two nations that should have only been enemies… that Iroh was as furious as she was, and for once, failing to conceal it properly.

This was why they had been imprisoned. This was why their plans were failing: she had made her move. And whatever her plans were now, she intended to take Ba Sing Se for herself. Perhaps she already had.

"Well?" said the elegant woman, raising her eyebrows skeptically. "Did they infect you with that uncivilized behavior, by any chance? Glaring at me in such a manner is most unbefitting, Azula…"

"How… how dare you…?" Azula hissed, her furious eyes gleaming. "Why are you…?! How are you even here?!"

The woman smiled, and Azula's tightened fists seemed poised to shatter with all her charged fury. Once she had pretended to be gentle, kind, a perfect mother with no ill intentions… she had long put aside such pretenses, and now stood before her with no masks, whatsoever.

"Answer me…" Azula snarled, glaring so fiercely it seemed she intended to set the woman on fire through willpower alone: "What are you doing here, Mother?!"

The soldiers had dragged most the group back to the prison cells. They had been locked in another one, this time with guards poised watching them, ensuring that even if they managed another miraculous escape that defied sense and reality, they wouldn't be able to make it very far without alerting the whole Palace that they were running. It seemed, to Azula's utter chagrin, that their first escape attempt had been a failure by mere chance: had Toph released them merely ten minutes earlier, they might have been able to get away.

"It was rather amusing, I must say. I had intended to visit you and your uncle, of course," Ursa was reciting, as she paced inside a Palace sitting room, a cup of steaming tea in her hand. She had poured another one, but Azula, the only other occupant in the room, by Ursa's express request, refused to touch it, no matter how parched she was. "But you two merely rushed me and my procession just when we were handling the security details regarding how to head down into that dark prison block as safely as possible! Amusing, truly…"

"You still haven't answered me," the exiled Princess said, her head hung, her arms chained behind her back, shackled just as her feet were, held down on the heavy table. She had managed to sit down… but that was as far as her movements would get her, apparently. "Why… why are you here? How? The Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation have been at war for…"

"For a hundred years, even longer if you're to take into account how poorly the Earth Kingdom responded to Fire Lord Sozin's first colonies, yes," Ursa said, carelessly, taking her seat at the other side of the table. She was the picture of regal luxury, clad in beautiful robes, sporting as many jewels and royal artifacts as she dared wear… whereas Azula was in an incognito outfit, filthy from her time in jail, her hair in disarray. And where Azula sat on the floor, without even a cushion, her mother relaxed in a smooth lounge, reclining sideways into perfect comfort. "Isn't it a rather drab business, the war? I've had to continue it, of course, the nation would've stood for nothing else, but… oh, there just had to be more effective ways to resolve all this, don't you believe?"

"Effective?" Azula repeated, breathing heavily. "Like what? Are you… y-you're trying to enter an alliance with the Earth King?"

"Trying? Do you really think I'd be here if I hadn't succeeded?" Ursa smirked. Azula's aghast expression only amused her mother further. "It wasn't quite so difficult, mind you: just a little persuasion goes a long way with unseasoned kings who don't know any better. King Kuei isn't even aware there's a war… his fool of an advisor never told him as much. Once I arrived for a diplomatic visit, how could they have refused me?"

"He didn't tell him…? The Earth King didn't know there was a war?" Azula asked. "That's absurd! How could they shelter him to a point where…?"

"Isn't it utterly embarrassing, really?" Ursa said, smiling and shaking her head. "I almost felt sorry for the poor thing. He's infatuated with me too, you see… perfectly useful for my purposes, of course. If I give him enough reason to believe he'll ever be able to craft a permanent alliance between our nations, he'll wind up signing his whole continent to me without his awareness…"

"And that's when you'll strike," Azula hissed, resisting the urge to spit at her mother right then and there. "Guess that's what you stoop to nowadays, huh? Seducing men to get your way?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's hardly my fault men are quite so foolish and gullible," Ursa said, raising her eyebrows dismissively as she took to checking her makeup. Azula snarled.

"That's surely what you thought of my father too, isn't it? Foolish and gullible… and then you killed him. You killed him, just as you killed my grandfather, all for Zuko's sake…!"

"Honestly, child," Ursa said, rolling her eyes before glancing at her skeptically. "Do you truly believe your incompetent father could've run this nation and finished this war with anything short of Sozin's Comet's second coming? Even then, he surely would have failed. He filled his mind with absolute delusions about how that throne belonged to him… as though he'd ever be capable of ruling without sending the whole nation into chaos and disaster. Am I questioned over my rise into power? No doubt: is the Fire Nation thriving, more than it ever did before? Of course it is. And neither your father nor your thrice-accursed grandfather could've achieved that. The Fire Nation's better than it ever was, and it's all because of me."

"I have a hard time believing that," Azula hissed. Ursa let out a soft chuckle and she shook her head.

"No doubt. You were your father's beloved golden daughter, weren't you?" Ursa said. "I suppose you would feel rather differently if he had been Fire Lord for longer than a week. And what a tragedy that was…"

"Tragedy? Tragedy?!" Azula snarled. "You and I both know you were behind that! You were! Quit playing pretense and admit it, if not to the world, to me! You've lied to my face for years, and then got rid of me because you knew I'd discover the truth! Now you've trapped me because you know I'm a threat! If you'll just lock me away somewhere, the least you can do for your daughter is admit your blasted crimes!"

"Lock you away? Oh, dear, again with the histrionics…" Ursa sighed, standing up and making her way to a nearby armoire. Azula glared at her mother fierce, wrestling with her chains, wishing she could move beyond being chained to the damn table. "What makes you think I'd want to keep you imprisoned, Azula, really?"

Azula huffed, breathing heavily as the reality and weight of those words sank inside her very soul. No, her mother didn't traditionally take prisoners. What she did was…

Her eyes widened just as Ursa turned around, a small vial of translucent liquid in her hands.

"Calm down, Sokka… you won't help her just by fretting in here," Katara told her brother, but Sokka refused to listen to reason.

"We have to get out. We have to. Toph, please…"

"There's a lot of soldiers out there," Toph said, biting her lip. "If we wait for a change of shift…"

"That could be too late!" Sokka exclaimed. "Azula is alone with her murderous mother! There's no way she'll be fine there, damn it! We have to…!"

"Shh," Toph said, suddenly. "Someone's coming."

Sokka fell silent begrudgingly, his heart racing and aching on equal amounts. No, no, no, he couldn't lose Azula, he simply couldn't lose her… he felt as though he were falling off Appa, with an unbearable vertigo, as though the whole world would shatter if he couldn't reach her on time…

The footsteps Toph had heard were audible eventually, and they stopped at their cell. The voice that accompanied them was only familiar for one member of their group, once they heard it:

"Leave me. I'll speak to my Uncle alone."

Wait… soldiers, dismissed? Sokka's eyes gleamed. It was their chance…!

Iroh shot him a warning glare, and Sokka's soaring heart sank all over again. Iroh turned towards the door, waiting for the young man outside to stop breathing heavily and to speak, outright.

"I… I'm sorry you're imprisoned, Uncle," said none other than Azula's brother, of course: Zuko. "I didn't want you to be, but Mother… she thinks you're dangerous. I've told her you're not, that you'd never hurt me, but she's sure you can't be trusted. I'm sorry she sent you away with Azula, you two never got along… it must have sucked. But hey, I'll try to convince Mother to let you stay with us! I'll be Fire Lord this year, so if you're patient I can revoke your exile sooner than you thought! You'll be able to come back home, Uncle… and I know things between you and Mother are messy, but I'll help you fix it. I will. I just… I miss you."

Sokka's harsh glare warned Iroh not to do anything foolish either. Iroh held his gaze for a moment, nodding weakly before speaking through the door.

"I missed you too, my nephew," he said, smiling heartily, offering his words yet another coating of warmth and kindness. "It wasn't easy, no… but while I didn't expect to reunite with you while I'm imprisoned, I sure rejoiced in it all the same. You've grown into a very handsome young man! Surely all the ladies in the city want to marry you…"

"Oh, haha, well, yeah…" Zuko laughed outside. Iroh grinned.

"I trust you, my nephew. I know your heart is in the right place. I'll wait until you can help me, but… is it okay if I make one request right now?"

"Sure! Anything you want, Uncle!"

"I would very much like to see your face properly… and give you a big hug."

Sokka blinked blankly. Katara and Aang stared at Iroh in confused chagrin while Toph's jaw dropped. No way. That was so obvious, it was even worse than ANYTHING he'd said to the Dai Li earlier…

"Oh… I'd need the keys for that. Give me a second! Guards!"

Iroh smirked, and Toph had to cover her mouth to avoid chortling. Sokka bit his lip, his heart racing at haste yet again…

The lock slid open. The door swung outwards. The regal Fire Prince, soon to be Fire Lord, stood right outside, smiling warmly at his uncle…

Iroh sighed and spread his arms, and Zuko knelt before hugging him. Iroh rocked him gently in his arms, and Zuko chuckled, no doubt elated that his perfect life would only improve from now on…

And then his whole body seemed to go numb right after Iroh's hand pinched him right at the nape of his neck.

"W-wha…?" he said, his voice trembling: even speaking seemed near impossible to him now. What on earth…?

"I'm sorry, Zuko. But I won't abandon your sister."

Sokka didn't wait for another moment before rushing the guards right outside: Toph helped him by slamming some into a wall while he attacked two with powerful bare fists, and Aang joined in by using his own earthbending to fight back. Katara smiled wildly as she leapt over Iroh and Zuko: the old general was pulling his nephew inside the prison cell, and he laid him there just after all the nearby guards were defeated: the betrayal in Zuko's eyes was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, truly," Iroh said, nodding in his direction before closing the door, locking it firmly.

"For a second there I thought…" Sokka told Iroh, breathing heavily. Iroh scoffed.

"You think I'd ever join my sister-in-law? After everything she's done?" Iroh said. "No matter how honeyed Zuko's words may be… I won't abandon Azula. You're not the only one who's loyal to her, you hear me?"

Sokka smiled and nodded, just as Katara returned to him, strapping her waterbending pouches to her body while handing Sokka his weapons.

"We need to find Azula," Sokka said, firmly. "Toph! Help us track her down!"

"Aye-aye, captain!"

They didn't waste time rushing to the stairs: Toph and Aang tore open the ceiling and they raised their group to the next floor with earthbending. There was no point in stealth anymore, not when they knew this was an enemy best fought through unpredictability… Sokka breathed deeply, leaping off the earthbending pillar once they reached solid ground – albeit now torn with a huge hole –, while Toph and Aang slammed their bare feet into the ground, searching the Palace's upper floors with seismic sense until they located Azula…

"You'll get your answer, I said… once you drink this. Simple, right?" Ursa smirked, stepping towards her daughter: Azula pulled away violently, keeping her lips tightly shut as her mother knelt beside her. "And here I thought you wanted to know the truth. Don't you want to anymore, Azula? That's just so confusing and contradictory…"

Azula would've snarled, would've protested, if she had thought her mother wouldn't empty the vial's contents in her mouth as soon as she dared separate her lips. Curse everything… curse it all. That was how she'd done it, then. Poison… a suitable weapon for one who didn't dirty her hands willingly. She was ever the picture of perfection… and now she intended to destroy her, just as she had destroyed her father. How many people had she killed this way? How many had suspected her, known she was up to no good, and she had simply offed them right then and there? Azula couldn't even venture a guess. Her whole body screamed rejection, and she tugged at her chains in a hopeless attempt to release herself from the shackles…

But Ursa only smirked where she knelt, cockily raising her eyebrows defiantly, waiting for Azula to make a mistake. Hoping to goad her into making them, even.

"It's supposed to be tasteless. You surely won't feel a thing," she said. "Your father was quite calm when he drank it mixed with a cup of rice wine that night, if I recall right. Oh, no… it was lychee wine, wasn't it?"

Azula gasped: Ursa made her move: Azula screamed as her mother held her jaw forcefully, preventing Azula from slamming her mouth shut as she had intended to… and pouring the contents of the vial right into her mouth.

"That being said… I could've mixed it with your tea, if you preferred that. Would it have been better, perhaps? You might have enjoyed it better, right, Azula?" Ursa smirked: now she held the exiled Princess's jaw closed, doing her very best to prevent her from spitting out the liquid.

Azula's face was contorted with outrage, disgust and fear. She was going to die, she was actually going to die… and her mother had admitted the truth. She had admitted this was how she'd killed so many people, so many times…

"How I've longed for this moment…" Ursa said, holding her daughter down still, in a more violent display of strength than any Azula had seen from her until that day. "How I've wanted to get rid of your meddling, you spoiled brat. You won't take your brother's throne for yourself the way your damn father did with your uncle. Oh, yes, your uncle deserved it, but Zuko… he's the one true Fire Lord. And you… you were never meant to be born. You were an unwanted accident, one I'll put an end to, right now…!"

The floor underneath the table collapsed suddenly, loudly: Ursa gasped, her control on the situation shattering for long enough to release Azula… and for Azula to spit the entire content of the vial in her mother's face, to Ursa's horror.

She'd still need to rinse off, she had to do it as soon as possible, that damn thing had to be potent if Ursa believed such a small amount would suffice for murder… one quick glance nearly made her cry of joy rather than despair: tears did burn in her eyes after Ursa had damn near killed her, but they gained a new meaning now as Sokka jumped out of the hole in the ground towards her, concern clear in his face.

"Azula! Azula, I'm here, we're here…!"

"What have you done to her?!" Iroh bellowed, rushing towards Ursa and clasping her by the neck of her long dress. "Answer me!"

"P-poison…" Azula coughed, trying to spit out the remnants of the thing: Katara knelt before her, offering her some of her bending water to rinse her mouth fully, perhaps too invasively, but Azula didn't care. Not if it meant she'd survive… and she truly expected she would be, with Katara's help, while Sokka held her closely.

"To think I complained about my family being boring," Toph growled, holding a boulder at the ready to attack the Fire Lady.

"How could you do this to your own daughter?!" Aang asked, aghast. "You… you're not worthy of leading the Fire Nation! What you've done here today will be known…!"

"Ha! What's a child like you going to do anyways? I have soldiers, an army…!" Ursa shouted.

"And I'm the Avatar!" Aang shouted: yet it wasn't his voice alone: a sudden flash of light startled all of them, for his eyes had gained an unexpected white gleam, as well as the arrows in his body. Ursa's jaw dropped, and she trembled in Iroh's grip, even once the brightness faded, and the young boy no longer channeled a strange energy through his body. "I won't allow you to continue destroying this world's balance, or your own family, as you have! This war is over, and you're…!"

He fell silent when Azula rose to her feet, near stumbling as her blood rushed vertiginously through her veins. Iroh gazed at her with concern, as did Sokka, who held her gently…

"Toph. Can you… get rid of these chains?"

Toph did as she was told immediately, setting down her boulder to do so. It was a strange suspense that spread across the room, as Azula waited until each shackle was off… but she held the chains all the same. And she glared at her mother with mad fury across her bloodshot eyes.

"You killed my father," Azula said, firmly. "You poisoned his drink. You poisoned my grandfather just the same. You've killed countless in this manner, and admitted to planning on taking advantage of the Earth King for your schemes…"

"You… have no evidence…!" Ursa said, though her poised elegance was gone now: it was her turn to fear, for all tides had been turned against her: where were her soldiers? The Dai Li she had stolen out of Long Feng's control, after ensuring one of the kitchen cooks poisoned his meal? No one was coming to the rescue, but someone had to, someone would… "W-where's Zuko? What have you done to my son?!"

"He's safe and sound. Trust me, he'll never get the same treatment you will," Iroh said, scowling at Ursa.

"Yes. Zuko will live," Azula said, ominously. "She won't."

Her words floored everyone within the room, even the young man who held Azula closely. He gasped, tugging her towards him, but Azula clasped the chains with her now free hands, glaring at Ursa furiously.

"Azula, no!" Sokka exclaimed. "You can't just…!"

"She damn near killed me! She meant to, and she would've killed each of us, one by one, until no one stood against her!" Azula shouted back, trembling violently as she leveled her glare at Ursa. "I won't… I won't let you hurt anyone I love ever again… never again. I will kill you. I will kill you!"

"Azula, stop!" Sokka said, pulling her into an embrace she tried to shake off. Azula snarled, feeling the tears running down her face as she built her resolve: one murder, one more death, and the world would be set right. That was all it took, that was all… "You can break the damn cycle. We talked about this! You can put an end to the misery, to the hatred in the Fire Nation… but not if you continue what your mother already started. Not if you kill her now, just as she killed your father! Your people won't think you're any better than her! They'll assume you don't belong on a throne any more than she does…"

"I don't need a damn throne!" Azula shouted. "I just need…! I just need…!"

"You don't need to kill her. You think you do… but you're a better person than she could ever be," Sokka said, burying his face in her neck.

"Violence and death… that's what the Hundred Year War has been about," Aang said, gazing at Azula sadly. "Maybe… maybe it's not what you want to hear now. But… I think Sokka is right."

"I won't tell you she deserves better than death," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "What she's done… what she nearly did to you, I want to kill her for that, too! But Azula… if she's dead, the world…"

"The cycle… won't ever break…" Azula whispered, gritting her teeth. "If I kill her…"

"You… you shouldn't kill me, no!" Ursa said, clinging to the sudden possibility of survival that had reared its head when she expected otherwise. "Azula, truly, I only did everything for Zuko! Your grandfather would've killed him, and your father would've done worse…!"

"Shut the hell up!" Azula shouted, glaring at her again. Ursa gritted her teeth, as Iroh scowled at her too.

"No past crimes by your victims will justify what you've done," Iroh said. "You killed my father… and my brother. You nearly killed my niece, too. You've corrupted my nephew's mind while he was none the wiser. And while you won't die today… you shall spend every last day of your life paying for those crimes."

"N-no… no, Iroh, you can't do this to me… I'm the Fire Lady… I'm the Fire Lady!" Ursa shouted. Iroh smirked.

"Not anymore, you're not," he said, curtly.

The meaning of his words wasn't clear, not beyond the obvious: Ursa would be deposed officially, starting today. The bulk of the soldiers who meant to protect her had been defeated effectively by their surprise attacks while they rushed to find Azula: next, they'd visit the Earth King, and explain everything to him thoroughly. And once they were ready, they'd return to the Fire Nation… and Ursa wouldn't see the light of day for the rest of her life.

But who would take her position instead? No one could tell just yet. There was one candidate, locked in a prison, stealthily chi-blocked by his uncle. There was another, cradled in her boyfriend's arms, crying in despair as she relented, accepting that her revenge wasn't what was best for the world, no matter how deserved it might be. And the final candidate, born and raised under the belief that he'd become Fire Lord one day, seemed to believe a new, fresher generation was better than himself for the role.

And as they lingered inside that room, calming down, waiting for the remaining, loyal soldiers to the Earth King to arrive upon being summoned by Toph's shouts out the window, none of them knew what the future would bring… but with Ursa defeated at last, it seemed fitting to believe the war was finally over. It hadn't been the epic bending brawl many expected… but when it came to ending wars, especially the long ones, what mattered most to anyone was that it was finally over, regardless of the manner in which they ended.

A world in peace was a concept that had eluded most their generations. That the Fire Nation would have suddenly withdrawn its troops from the Earth Kingdom, that they had signed treaties of peace with all remaining nations, would have sounded as an impossible, absurd delusion for most people… and yet it was their new reality. A reality that many people cherished deeply, though few cherished it quite as much as the heroes who, in a rather unexpected manner, had defeated the woman who had led the Fire Nation for the last six years.

Zuko, despite all hopes, had taken Iroh's actions as an unbearable betrayal. He would have been granted leniency, but he wanted none of it: he sought to attack his uncle and his sister as soon as he had a chance, demanding for reparations, for justice to be served, for his mother's freedom to be restored… and as much as it had pained Iroh, he had no choice but to restrain Zuko as well. His loyalty to Ursa was unquestioned… but misplaced, just as well. He would be likely to receive second chances in the future… but not until he was ready to listen to the truth. And for now, he certainly was anything but ready for that conversation.

The widespread fear Ursa had subjected her people to became apparent once Azula and Iroh returned home as the new leaders of the Fire Nation: they never expected a hero's welcome, and yet that was what they had received nonetheless. After many debates and thorough conversations with the nobles, the unanimous decision was made: Iroh would take the position of regent for a few years, to guide the transition between Ursa's rule and Azula's future one. The reinstated Princess wouldn't be crowned right away, but the Fire Nation had readily accepted her as their next ruler just the same. Surely occasional opposition would rise, as Ursa's loyalists would still linger somewhere… but fortunately, Azula had more than enough loyalists of her own to back her up.

The most important of them, of course, were currently in the Palace's garden, three of them engrossed in an all-out triple bending battle: Aang laughed as his airbending skills helped him avoid Katara and Toph's attacks, which too often resulted in the two girls striking each other instead. Azula was amused as well as she watched their fight, leisurely relaxing in Sokka's arms as he cuddled her gently.

"Odd… we were supposed to teach him all the elements, but the war ended without him learning any fire," Azula said. Sokka chuckled, kissing her brow.

"The war is over, though. He has plenty of time to learn now," he said. "And he'll have a great teacher, right? Whether you, or Iroh…"

"Eh, I'd be a dreadful teacher…"

"Heh! I'm only a decent warrior now thanks to you, you hear me? I learned a lot from you!"

Azula laughed, nuzzling his neck as she released a deep breath. Sokka smiled, rubbing her back reassuringly: these days, his tense Princess had been much more relaxed than usual. Coming home had done her good, he had no doubts about it… but perhaps it was also the knowledge that she'd helped set the world onto a better course that allowed her to breathe more easily. Her fingers clung to his shirt, clasping it gently, ensuring they'd stay close together for as long as possible… stabilized by the young man who had become her most loyal supporter, and the kindest boyfriend she could have ever hoped to find.

"I know it'll still be a while… and you should make sure to rest and recover from your years on the road while you can," Sokka said, rocking her gently in his arms. "But… I can't wait to see the wonders you'll weave, Fire Lord Azula."

"Wonders?" Azula repeated, smiling weakly. "I doubt that…"

"I don't," Sokka grinned enthusiastically.

"Who'd have thought the most loyal of my subjects wouldn't even be from my nation, huh?" Azula smiled, raising her head towards. him "Somehow… it feels fitting, too."

"We're breaking the cycle," Sokka said. "Marrying a Water Tribe guy? Sounds like just the way to break it for good, as far as I can tell. No old, outdated traditions will ever be followed: time to bring about harmony and peace in the best way possible, right, Azula?"

"By marrying each other? In a few years, that is," Azula said, smiling warmly. "I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my husband anyway."

"And I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my wife," Sokka said, stroking her hair. "It is kind of funny how life turns out, huh? We've come full circle, completely…"

"We have. And I'm definitely proud of it," Azula smiled, raising her head to kiss his lips. "Though… there's one thing left to do, to finish that notion."

"Oh yeah?" Sokka asked, amused.

"I… think I might love you too," Azula said, teasingly. "And even if I don't, I want to."

"Ah… hah," Sokka laughed, pressing his brow to hers. Azula grinned, kissing him again. "You're always so clever… always so clever."

Azula laughed as they exchanged more kisses, deliberately ignoring the loud, rowdy bending battle in the gardens. And from the corner of the nearest corridor, Iroh smiled fondly too, watching his niece from a distance. Theirs had been a strained relationship for a long time… but it certainly wasn't that anymore. Azula had been deeply grateful upon hearing of what he'd done to help save her… how he had set aside Zuko, and privileged her safety instead. By now, their relationship was better than ever… and it would continue to be, Iroh knew, as long as he didn't interfere in her private moments with her beloved Water Tribe warrior.

"I, too, can barely wait to see the wonders you shall weave," Iroh spoke quietly, closing his eyes and turning his back on the Princess.

She would make an excellent Fire Lord, he was sure of that… but for now, he would let her enjoy her time with her closest friends, in a peaceful environment, with no heavy pressures weighing on her shoulders. After all the hardships she had endured, and the pain she had suffered through, he had no doubts she had earned these miraculous moments of peace. Yes, peace, no doubt, was the best word to describe the beautiful scene he had just witnessed at a distance in the palace's garden, and in his earnest opinion, no one deserved such blissful harmony quite as much as Azula did.

A/N:

While I have no doubts I've cemented myself a terrible reputation for all my Ursa portrayals, I do want to set clear that I didn't write this particular entry to villify her, despite that's what it'll look like to some... the truth is, the whole basis of this idea came from the very frequently debated AUs where Azula is the banished one, rather than Zuko. I pondered under which circumstances could Azula EVER wind up banished at a young age, as well as how the blazes she'd ever be banished with Iroh, who'd most likely not join her of his own volition, if his characterization is kept true to his canon self. Then the idea of turning someone else into the bigger bad came to mind, someone both Azula and Iroh would develop personal grudges against, to the point of setting aside their differences to work together.

This is, therefore, just a matter of exploring storytelling possibilities for me - as can be obvious by the fact that this is, by FAR, my most favorable portrayal of Iroh up to date. I usually don't write him this way, just as I usually don't see Ursa as a character remotely as dark as she was in this entry: all was done for the sake of exploring storytelling posibilities and nothing else. One day I might surprise by offering you all a favorable Ursa portrayal, for a change! :'D All this being said, it's fine if you don't enjoy Ursa as I portrayed her here, but I want to set the record straight, it wasn't done for the sake of making her appear a fundamentally worse person than Ozai or anyone else. Basically, this is an Ursa who decided to stop at nothing to keep her son safe. And while that sounds pretty in paper, it can also have a very dark meaning, and that's why things turned out this way.

Hope you enjoyed this story anyway!

[the-hoarse-bard]

When I asked Arngeir about a shout to defeat Alduin, he seemed angry for the first time since I’d known him. He asked who I’d been talking to where I’d hear of such a thing, and when I told him about Delphine and Esbern he immediately knew who they were, saying that the Blades have always tried to use the dragonborn for their own purposes. I objected to this, saying that they were helping me stop Alduin, and as Arngeir was about to launch into another tirade, we both heard the angry voice of another one of the Greybeards echo down the halls. I didn’t know what they said, but it was definitely directed at Arngeir.

Arngeir sighed and said, “I’m sorry, Dragonborn. It’s not my place to scold you so. If there’s any way I may help, I will. However, I couldn’t teach you Dragonrend even if I wanted to, although we know it’s name, it’s words are lost to us. When you learn a shout, you take its meaning into your heart, and Dragonrend is a shout formed of anger and hate. To learn it would be exposing yourself to that evil.” He lowered his head, and I thought I saw a tear rolling down his cheek. I hugged him once again, with less shame this time, “You know Arngeir, now you remind me even more of the monks back home.” I released him from the embrace, “They refused to teach me to fight. They claimed it was to protect my innocence, but without the ability to protect myself, I ended up being taken advantage of. I need to know this shout, Arngeir. I can’t just allow Alduin to run rampant.”

Arngeir took hold of my hand, “Well, if that’s the case, then.... I have no choice. Follow me, it’s time for you to meet our leader, Paarthunax at the peak of the Throat of the World.”

Arngeir lead me out into the courtyard again, this time over to the large gate blocked by a swirling vortex of wind. “The path to Paarthunax lies through here, but you’ll need a particular shout to clear the storm. Our final gift to you, the shout Clear Skies.” He leaned down and whispered the words into the flagstones, and I learned them, along with their meaning. They felt warm in my mind, like the warmth of a sunny day. “The climb to the peak is treacherous.” Arngeir warned, “Stay focused, use your voice wisely, and you will succeed. Good luck, Dovahkiin.” With this, he turned and walked back to the monastery.

I turned back toward the gate, inhaled and shouted ‘Lok Vah Koor’ into the gale, and before my eyes the winds went still and I was allowed passage.

The climb upward was freezing and fraught with ice wraiths. I had to balance my use of Clear Skies to chase away the freezing fog that hounded the path with my use of Mark for Death to stand a chance against the ice wraiths. Eventually, though, I found a spot on a bridge to catch my breath and enjoy the view. I could see clear to the Imperial City from this high. The air was thin, freezing and dry as a bone this high up, and it made keeping my voice strong difficult, but I persevered, and soon the peak was in sight.

As I approached the summit, I felt the cold dissipate, and was confused to find no one there. Then, a dragon swooped down and landed before me, I braced myself for battle, but then the dragon spoke, “Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, welcome wunderiik. I am Paarthunax.” I was shocked, and stood there a moment before responding, “I.... I didn’t expect you to be a dragon...” At this, he laughed in his low draconic voice, “Do not be ashamed, Dovahkiin, you had no way to know.” Then I remembered why I had come here, and asked if he could teach me Dragonrend, to which he responded, “Drem. Patience. There are formalities that must be observed at a meeting of the Dov. By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu’um and match it, if you are Dovahkiin.” He turned to the ruined word wall nearby and spoke, ‘Yol’, imprinting the word on the wall.

I read the word and felt a warmth rise in my chest. Unlike the warmth of Clear Skies, this one was hot, burning even. Paarthunax spoke from behind me, “Go ahead, Dovahkiin, let me taste your Thu’um. I will not be harmed.” The heat in my chest intensified, and I couldn’t help but shout out ‘Yol’, and a gout of flame launched from my mouth, striking him across the face, causing him to recoil. I clapped my hands over my mouth, afraid I had offended him. He let out a laugh again, and said, “Ahhh, sossedov los mul... It has been some time since I had the pleasure of conversing with one of my own kind.” He re-positioned himself atop the crumbling word wall, “As for your request, thuri, I cannot teach you Dragonrend,” I asked why not, and he replied, “you did not let me finish, Dovahkiin. I cannot because it’s words are impossible to know to Dovah, they were crafted by your kind, by mortals to defeat the dragons. Our minds cannot even comprehend them. However, I do know a way by which you may learn it, although it is a stretch.”

I told him I would do all I could to stop Alduin from destroying the world, to which Paarthunax asked, “Well, why do you want to defeat Alduin? I do not doubt your resolve, but I would know your reasons.” I replied honestly, “Because... I love this world. In all it’s imperfection.” Paarthunax thought a moment, “As good a reason as any, and one shared by many. However, what of the next world, Dovahkiin? This world may be simply the egg of the next. Would you stop this new world from being born?” That question was one that made me think, but soon I came to my answer, “That world will just have to worry about itself. Would I be here to stop Alduin, were it the time for this world to end? Would I have been born the dragonborn at all?” My answer seemed to please him, “I merely wished to see your heart, Dovahkiin, and now I see it is one of great love for the world, and those you have met. Fus Ro, truly you seem to have been sent as a balancing force. A light to counter Alduin’s darkness. I do know a way for you to learn Dragonrend, but it will not be simple. All Dovah are the children of Akatosh, and as such, we are uniquely sensitive to the flow of time. This place is where the ancient Nords faced Alduin in the past, however, they did not truly defeat him, merely cast him adrift on the flow of time, using the power of an Elder Scroll. The scar caused by their actions are still felt. Perhaps, with the same scroll, you could cast yourself back to the other end of the scar. You could learn Dragonrend from the very voices that forged it.”

Of course, I had to ask where I would find this Elder Scroll, and Paarthunax seemed crestfallen to admit he did not know. I would have to seek it on my own. I thanked him for his help and bowed, but as I turned to leave, he asked me to wait, “I have one last gift for you, thuri. The true meaning of the word of power I have taught you. Fire, power in it’s most primal form. Change, given form, but power without direction is meaningless. You must give it that direction, Dovahkiin. What will you burn? What will you spare? Think on this as you use your new Thu’um.” I thanked him again for his wisdom, and we wished each other farewell as I made my way back to the monastery.

It was late at night by the time I returned, and all of the monks were asleep by the time I got back. I saw a spare bedroll lain out on the floor, presumably for me, along with a note that read “Goodnight, Dovahkiin. -Master Borri”. I smiled, he must have been the one who saved me from Arngeir’s tongue lashing earlier. I turned the note over, wrote “Good Morning, Master Borri. -Shirazzha” on it, along with a scribbled smiling face, and slipped it under his pillow before laying down and going to sleep myself.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for december 13 of 2022 with Proverbs 13 and Psalm 13, accompanied by Psalm 83 for the 83rd day of Astronomical Autumn, and Psalm 47 for day 347 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 13]

A wise child is attentive to his parents’ instruction,

but the mocker is deaf to correction.

A person eats well when he speaks wisely,

but the treacherous crave violence.

Those who guard their speech insure they will take another breath,

but those who talk without thinking guarantee their demise.

Slackers crave but have their fill of nothing,

but the hardworking desire and are completely satisfied.

The right-living will not tolerate any lie,

but wrongdoers come to shame and embarrassment.

Doing right keeps the innocent on the path of life,

but doing wrong is the downfall of the wicked.

One pretends he is wealthy but has nothing,

while another seems to be poor but has great wealth.

The rich are targeted and must ransom their lives,

but no one bothers to threaten the poor.

The light of the right-living brings joy as it burns brightly;

the lamp of a wrongdoer will be snuffed out.

Arrogance only produces arguments,

but wisdom accompanies those well advised.

Money earned hastily is easily lost,

but hard-earned money continues to grow.

Hope postponed grieves the heart;

but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.

The one who hates good counsel will reap failure and ruin,

but the one who reveres God’s instruction will be rewarded.

Wise instruction is a spring yielding a satisfied life;

those who follow it avoid the traps that lead to death.

Good sense brings blessing,

but the road of the treacherous is long and rough.

A clever person acquires knowledge and then acts on it;

but a fool advertises his folly for all to see.

An untrustworthy messenger stirs up trouble,

but a faithful emissary is curative balm.

A person who turns from correction faces poverty and shame,

but one who regards constructive criticism is well respected.

A dream fulfilled is the sweetness of life,

but abandoning evil is repulsive to fools.

One who walks with the wise becomes wise,

but whoever keeps company with fools only hurts himself.

Trouble eagerly pursues the sinner,

but success rewards the right-living.

A good person leaves an inheritance for his grandchildren,

but the wealth of the sinner is eventually passed on to the right-living.

Though the fields of the poor yield a bumper crop

in a land without justice, it is stolen out from under them.

Those who spare the rod of discipline hate their children,

but those who are quick to correct them show true love.

Those who do right have plenty to eat,

while those who do wrong go hungry.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 13 (The Voice)

[Psalm 13]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

How long, O Eternal One? How long will You forget me? Forever?

How long will You look the other way?

How long must I agonize,

grieving Your absence in my heart every day?

How long will You let my enemies win?

Turn back; respond to me, O Eternal, my True God!

Put the spark of life in my eyes, or I’m dead.

My enemies will boast they have beaten me;

my foes will celebrate that I have stumbled.

But I trust in Your faithful love;

my heart leaps at the thought of imminent deliverance by You.

I will sing to the Eternal,

for He is always generous with me.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 13 (The Voice)

[Psalm 83]

A song of Asaph.

O True God, do not be quiet any longer.

Do not stay silent or be still, O God.

Look now, Your enemies are causing a commotion;

those who hate You are rising up!

They are conniving against Your people,

conspiring against those You cherish.

They say, “Join us. Let’s wipe the entire nation off the face of the earth

so no one will remember Israel’s name.”

They are all in it together, thinking as one,

and making a pact against You:

The people of Edom and Ishmael;

the Moabites and the Hagrites;

Gebal, Ammon, and Amalek;

Philistia with the residents of Tyre.

And the powerful Assyrians have joined the alliance

to add their strength and support the descendants of Lot: Moab and Ammon.

[pause]

Do to these nations what You did to Midian,

to Sisera and Jabin at the raging waters of Kishon.

They were destroyed at En-dor;

they became like dung, fertilizer for the ground.

Make their rulers like Oreb and Zeeb,

all their princes like Zebah and Zalmunna,

Who schemed, “We should own the meadows of the True God,

let’s take them!”

O my God, blow them away like a tumbleweed,

scatter them like dust in a whirlwind.

As a wildfire charges through the forest

or a flame sprints up the mountainside,

Send Your raging winds to chase them, hunt them down,

and terrify them with Your storm.

Redden their faces in shame

so that they will turn and seek Your holy name, Eternal One.

May they face disappointment and anxiety forever;

may they be ashamed and die.

May they know that You and You alone,

whose name is the Eternal,

are the Most High, the Supreme Ruler over all the earth.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 83 (The Voice)

[Psalm 47]

For the worship leader. A song of the sons of Korah.

Clap your hands, all of you;

raise your voices joyfully and loudly.

Give honor for the True God of the universe;

Here’s why: The Eternal, the Most High, is awesome and deserves our great respect.

He is the great King over everything in this world.

He’s helped us win wars, suppressed our enemies,

and made nations bow at our feet.

He decides the extent of our inheritance and selects the land where we and our children will live,

for we are the pride of Jacob, the ones He loves.

[pause]

The True God ascends the throne acclaimed by shouts of the people.

The Eternal is announced by the blast of a trumpet.

Sing! Shout! Play instruments!

Praise our God and King; sing praises to Him who is worthy.

For He is the King of all the earth. Sing praise, all who can.

Put words to music, and then sing praises

At the feet of the God who sits on His holy throne,

ruling over all the nations.

All those with influence in this world—princes, kings, and satraps—

gather with those who follow Abraham’s God.

For these defenders belong to God

who reigns over the nations!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 47 (The Voice)

[undignifiend]

So I made a Trollhunters fan character instead of sleeping. Meet Dezoka.

A (secretly) unregistered changeling trying to pass as a Gumm-Gumm warrior after getting stuck in the Darklands during the Battle of Killahead. Genuinely wants to be a Gumm-Gumm, but has to be deceptive (like an ‘Impure’) in order to even attempt passing as one. Frustrated by the irony.

She feels like a coyote trying to blend in with a pack of wolves. Fortunately for her, she’s got enough fire to keep up most of the time...

Might be equal to a sergeant in terms of rank; second-in-command of a platoon in Gunmar’s army (or the Gumm-Gumm equivalent). Favorite weapon: Parlock spear, but likes brawling unarmed, too. Would absolutely love the drunken fist style.

Not the strongest hitter or fastest healer, but she’s enthusiastic, fast, and has excellent pain tolerance and reflexes; excels at rolling with the punches, dodging, and deflecting. Has enough stamina to wait out or distract most opponents she’s met long enough to create openings for her teams to take down particularly tough enemies and accomplish their objectives. She’s not a duelist, she’s a pack-fighter. The rush from that is her favorite thing ever. It gives her a sense of belonging and community that she otherwise feels a degree of removal from, and the aftermath of victory is the only time she’s too hyped up to mind non-violent physical contact – celebratory headbutts and claps on the back, that kind of thing.

As evasive as she is in combat, she still gets hit a lot. Tends her own wounds, and refuses to let a healer treat her unless ordered to by a superior. And it might be a little hard to notice in a place as gloomy and washed-out as the Darklands, but her blood is a telltale purple. Grateful for how much her Gumm-Gumm armor hides. (I need to draw her helmet, too. She wears it a lot. Especially when injured.)

Has a reputation for being disciplined, loyal, direct, and industrious. And neurotic. Oddly, is most relaxed (and tolerable) when on a mission or task. During her downtime, she’ll seek out other work, or will try to salvage resources, clean/repair weapons and armor, or organize supplies in the interest of boosting efficiency. No task is too small so long as she’s convinced it will be of some benefit to the cause. If her regular duties are complete and no one gives her further orders, and if she’s got energy to spare, she’ll find something to do.

She was very gentle and affectionate as a whelp. Liked to cuddle and nap, and was easy to put to bed. When feeling active, she enjoyed ‘helping’ her favorite adults with tasks, ‘hide-and-scare’ (would leap or scamper out of her hiding spot and ambush her playmates with all the ferocity of a kitten), wrestling, and the “I bet I can jump from here to there” game. Mostly wanted to climb somewhere high up (especially on tall, broad shoulders) and observe (and give occasional, soft little headbutt-nudges like a happy cat). Is a mutt with a strong background of a sub-type of troll with propensity for leaping, climbing, and ambush tactics. Has very strong fingers, forearms, legs, and toes, and is an excellent climber. Can even fall asleep clinging to rocky walls to this day.

Became the exact opposite of cuddly. It’s like a Cats vs Cucumbers video. If someone startles her by getting too close in a non-combat situation, she can leap pretty high – and cling to any rocky walls, ledges, tree branches, or accidentally tear down rafters and get tangled in curtains. Might yell, start a brawl, or bite her tongue to resist doing either, depending on who scared her.

Very conscious of hierarchy and knows her place in it. Easily intimidated by superiors getting into her personal space, and will try to anticipate where they’re going and get out of their way. But if in-formation, or expected to hold, she will obey and hold position for as long as they tell her to, no matter how nervous it makes her.

If, however, they attempt to take advantage of her despite her protest, or if she witnesses someone else being abused (as opposed to punished) by a superior, she’s likely to take that to mean that the aggressor is unfit for the responsibility of their station, and she will consider the resulting fight she starts as her ‘appeal for a promotion’. She may be a bit squirrely, but she’s got pride and resolve in spades. Fortunately, this has only happened once so far (her former sergeant was abusing one of her shield-mates), and fortunately, she won (barely). Lost a tooth in that fight.

Gets really touch-starved when in season. She hates it. It’s perhaps the one instance (aside from recovering from debilitating injury) in which she’ll take her downtime to actually rest – which she’ll do somewhere up high and relatively hidden, where she can keep tabs on things in case she’s needed for something, but is otherwise out of sight and out of mind. Gets kind of depressed, too; without her usual duties and distractions, her mind wanders to things she’d rather not think about.

Pan and demi, but because she doesn’t want to chance anyone finding out her secret, she tends to keep people at a distance, and is effectively celibate.

Normally rolls around in dust-baths a lot to help disguise her scent. Does this extra when in season.

Favorite snacks: packing-peanuts (she likes the squeak) and coffee-grounds. Will stress-eat either of those by the handful, especially if drizzled with teriyaki sauce. Favorite beverage: any kind of soda. The bubbles “taste sharp” and it comes in edible shells! Likes to mix it with bubble solution when she’s feeling extra fancy.

Gunmar seems to notice a difference in how changelings smell, so she’s especially wary around him. It’s kind of a weird situation for her. He makes no secret of his opinions on changelings, but she idolizes him (so much that she ran off to join the Battle of Killahead when she was young and naive and wanted to personally witness his victory). As a result, her motivation to conceal the truth isn’t only about self-preservation. It’s also about trying to do right by her hero by trying to “defy her treacherous nature” (as she thinks of it) and live as a proper, loyal Gumm-Gumm. But doing so requires deception, and she’s deeply frustrated by the irony.

Constantly waffles back and forth between thoughts of “I’m lying, disloyal trash. End me.” and “This is my lot, and I’m gonna do the best I can with it.”

The only two things holding her back from coming clean and submitting to punishment, is 1) her fear of possibly getting her familiar killed as part of said punishment, and 2) her fear of dying as one more “lying, treacherous Impure” despite her efforts not to be.

Was a young, stary-eyed nobody at the Battle of Killahead, and got trapped in the Darklands with the rest of the Gumm-Gumm army. Quickly realized (or assumed) how Thoroughly Dead she’d be if she didn’t start passing as 100% Troll, pronto, and has kept up the ruse ever since. Has gone to great lengths to keep this secret, up to and including bribing goblins to hide her familiar – first name “Danica” - and erasing the name they shared from the nursery records to protect them both.

Had five fingers on each hand, which was seen as a common enough mutation among her tribe, but which she feared might be incriminating. Just to be on the safe side, she bit off her pinkies. It wasn’t her favorite day. Later learned that it’s perfectly normal for some changelings to have different numbers of fingers in different forms, and she was just being paranoid. Sour about it.

“Dezoka” was the first Trollish name she conjured up when someone asked her. She’s craftier now, but she was not a brilliant improviser in her youth, and still reflexively grimaces at the name sometimes. (It’s too close to her familiar’s name for comfort.)

She’s getting older by the present day, and even if she can still fight, she knows her reflexes are slowing. She never figured out how to accept that gracefully, and is a bit grouchy about it. She thinks she’s had a good run, even if she spent the vast majority of her life in the Darklands, and is hoping she’ll die in combat before anyone figures her out.

Witnessing Nomura getting imprisoned and tortured only made her more certain that the same would befall her. She wasn’t sure which would be more “classically Impure”: trying to appeal on Nomura’s behalf (she was trying to think up a compelling case to let her serve in the army), trying to help her escape (thereby betraying Gunmar, which is out of the question), or letting another changeling take hits for things she couldn’t help (and knowing no one would step up for her, either). Things moved on before she could decide, but the question still haunts her.

It puts kind of a damper on her ability to form relationships. And even if she got to spend time around other known changelings, while curious about them, she has internalized a lot of shame and negativity about them. And even if she didn’t have that problem, letting anyone know (changeling or not) puts her and her familiar at risk.

She has been working on a plan to get her familiar back to the Surface ever since she heard that humans are now far more likely to survive infancy. She’s not afraid to risk her life in battle, but she’s terrified of screwing up and getting her familiar killed (either on the Surface or as punishment), so that’s why she hasn’t made her move yet.

She thinks she would rather stick with Gunmar’s army than join up with the Janus Order if she got the chance. She’s lived almost her entire life as a troll, anyway, and doesn’t know how to be human, even if she may or may not have a few buried human instincts and tendencies. Also, a huge part of her paranoia about letting anyone get too close is her fear that they might have a gaggletack.

One of the main things that has kept her from giving up during times of doubt, crisis, and intense loneliness, is that she always still wants to see how long she can get away with it. It seems to her to be a very Impure attitude, and she’s starting to learn how to laugh at the irony.

[dailychapel]

God my Champion, embolden me with the power of Your Holy Spirit when I am tempted to fear. Please strengthen me, help me, and hold me up with Your righteous right hand. These circumstances will not prevail against me, for You champion my cause. These troubles will be like grass that withers in the heat of the sun, for Your hand of blessing rests on me. Amen.

[Psa 18:2-16 NKJV] 2 The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. 3 I will call upon the LORD, [who is worthy] to be praised; So shall I be saved from my enemies. 4 The pangs of death surrounded me, And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid. 5 The sorrows of Sheol surrounded me; The snares of death confronted me. 6 In my distress I called upon the LORD, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, [even] to His ears. 7 Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. 8 Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. 9 He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. 10 And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. 11 He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him [was] dark waters [And] thick clouds of the skies. 12 From the brightness before Him, His thick clouds passed with hailstones and coals of fire. 13 The LORD thundered from heaven, And the Most High uttered His voice, Hailstones and coals of fire. 14 He sent out His arrows and scattered the foe, Lightnings in abundance, and He vanquished them. 15 Then the channels of the sea were seen, The foundations of the world were uncovered At Your rebuke, O LORD, At the blast of the breath of Your nostrils. 16 He sent from above, He took me; He drew me out of many waters.

[Jer 5:1-31 NKJV] 1 "Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem; See now and know; And seek in her open places If you can find a man, If there is [anyone] who executes judgment, Who seeks the truth, And I will pardon her. 2 Though they say, '[As] the LORD lives,' Surely they swear falsely." 3 O LORD, [are] not Your eyes on the truth? You have stricken them, But they have not grieved; You have consumed them, But they have refused to receive correction. They have made their faces harder than rock; They have refused to return. 4 Therefore I said, "Surely these [are] poor. They are foolish; For they do not know the way of the LORD, The judgment of their God. 5 I will go to the great men and speak to them, For they have known the way of the LORD, The judgment of their God." But these have altogether broken the yoke [And] burst the bonds. 6 Therefore a lion from the forest shall slay them, A wolf of the deserts shall destroy them; A leopard will watch over their cities. Everyone who goes out from there shall be torn in pieces, Because their transgressions are many; Their backslidings have increased. 7 "How shall I pardon you for this? Your children have forsaken Me And sworn by [those that are] not gods. When I had fed them to the full, Then they committed adultery And assembled themselves by troops in the harlots' houses. 8 They were [like] well-fed lusty stallions; Every one neighed after his neighbor's wife. 9 Shall I not punish [them] for these [things]?" says the LORD. "And shall I not avenge Myself on such a nation as this? 10 "Go up on her walls and destroy, But do not make a complete end. Take away her branches, For they [are] not the LORD's. 11 For the house of Israel and the house of Judah Have dealt very treacherously with Me," says the LORD. 12 They have lied about the LORD, And said, "[It is] not He. Neither will evil come upon us, Nor shall we see sword or famine. 13 And the prophets become wind, For the word [is] not in them. Thus shall it be done to them." 14 Therefore thus says the LORD God of hosts: "Because you speak this word, Behold, I will make My words in your mouth fire, And this people wood, And it shall devour them. 15 Behold, I will bring a nation against you from afar, O house of Israel," says the LORD. "It [is] a mighty nation, It [is] an ancient nation, A nation whose language you do not know, Nor can you understand what they say. 16 Their quiver [is] like an open tomb; They [are] all mighty men. 17 And they shall eat up your harvest and your bread, [Which] your sons and daughters should eat. They shall eat up your flocks and your herds; They shall eat up your vines and your fig trees; They shall destroy your fortified cities, In which you trust, with the sword. 18 "Nevertheless in those days," says the LORD, "I will not make a complete end of you. 19 "And it will be when you say, 'Why does the LORD our God do all these [things] to us?' then you shall answer them, 'Just as you have forsaken Me and served foreign gods in your land, so you shall serve aliens in a land [that is] not yours.' 20 "Declare this in the house of Jacob And proclaim it in Judah, saying, 21 'Hear this now, O foolish people, Without understanding, Who have eyes and see not, And who have ears and hear not: 22 Do you not fear Me?' says the LORD. 'Will you not tremble at My presence, Who have placed the sand as the bound of the sea, By a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass beyond it? And though its waves toss to and fro, Yet they cannot prevail; Though they roar, yet they cannot pass over it. 23 But this people has a defiant and rebellious heart; They have revolted and departed. 24 They do not say in their heart, "Let us now fear the LORD our God, Who gives rain, both the former and the latter, in its season. He reserves for us the appointed weeks of the harvest." 25 Your iniquities have turned these [things] away, And your sins have withheld good from you. 26 'For among My people are found wicked [men]; They lie in wait as one who sets snares; They set a trap; They catch men. 27 As a cage is full of birds, So their houses [are] full of deceit. Therefore they have become great and grown rich. 28 They have grown fat, they are sleek; Yes, they surpass the deeds of the wicked; They do not plead the cause, The cause of the fatherless; Yet they prosper, And the right of the needy they do not defend. 29 Shall I not punish [them] for these [things]?' says the LORD. 'Shall I not avenge Myself on such a nation as this?' 30 "An astonishing and horrible thing Has been committed in the land: 31 The prophets prophesy falsely, And the priests rule by their [own] power; And My people love [to have it] so. But what will you do in the end?

[1Co 4:1-21 NKJV] 1 Let a man so consider us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. 2 Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful. 3 But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by a human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. 4 For I know of nothing against myself, yet I am not justified by this; but He who judges me is the Lord. 5 Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one's praise will come from God. 6 Now these things, brethren, I have figuratively transferred to myself and Apollos for your sakes, that you may learn in us not to think beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up on behalf of one against the other. 7 For who makes you differ [from another]? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive [it], why do you boast as if you had not received [it]? 8 You are already full! You are already rich! You have reigned as kings without us--and indeed I could wish you did reign, that we also might reign with you! 9 For I think that God has displayed us, the apostles, last, as men condemned to death; for we have been made a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men. 10 We [are] fools for Christ's sake, but you [are] wise in Christ! We [are] weak, but you [are] strong! You [are] distinguished, but we [are] dishonored! 11 To the present hour we both hunger and thirst, and we are poorly clothed, and beaten, and homeless. 12 And we labor, working with our own hands. Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; 13 being defamed, we entreat. We have been made as the filth of the world, the offscouring of all things until now. 14 I do not write these things to shame you, but as my beloved children I warn [you]. 15 For though you might have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet [you do] not [have] many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel. 16 Therefore I urge you, imitate me. 17 For this reason I have sent Timothy to you, who is my beloved and faithful son in the Lord, who will remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach everywhere in every church. 18 Now some are puffed up, as though I were not coming to you. 19 But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord wills, and I will know, not the word of those who are puffed up, but the power. 20 For the kingdom of God [is] not in word but in power. 21 What do you want? Shall I come to you with a rod, or in love and a spirit of gentleness?

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.