Wolf Moon 3

It was a particularly cold morning. Yué regretfully pulled off her waterproof mittens and then the thin, soft gloves underneath. She winced at the air. She was in the living room attached to her personal suite. No one else used the room, so it hadn’t been warmed at all yet for the day. 

Her guard eyed this and stood up. “I’ll add a little more fuel.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, not watching as he crossed the room and fed the little fire.

This morning her guard was a big strong man, with multiple weapons. She knew that a water bender could be just as effective but there was something comforting about a big strong bodyguard.

‘Not that one bodyguard will be any good against an invasion. I wonder how long we have. Days? Weeks?’

Yué turned to the door. A second later, there was a knock.

“Princess Yué,” Aunna called cheerfully. “I’m here with the materials!”

At Yué’s nod, the guard let Aunna in. She had a huge basket which she deposited on the central table. She then flitted away to prepare drinks.

Yué tried not to look too glum as she began emptying the basket. There was everything she needed to make her marital wardrobe— buttery leather and fluffy fur, fine smooth silk, cottons and linen, and threads and needles.

The material was specially acquired. Yué was the only living female member of the royal family, so there wasn’t much need for purple fabric.

She liked sewing and she liked clothes. That wasn’t the source of her emotional slump.

‘I can’t possibly get through this thinking of Hahn on every stitch.’

It might be foolish. But she had something else entirely in mind.

Aunna wasn’t back with the tea yet. Yué got out the sketches she’d made and carefully didn’t glance at the guard. She didn’t want to look like she was doing anything wrong. 

Odds were very good that he was daydreaming and not paying much attention. Hopefully he wouldn’t be thinking critically about what exactly she was making.

Yué smiled mildly at her friend when Aunna sat beside her. The healer picked up the sketches and checked them over. Yué carefully watched Aunna’s face. They’d talked about this a dozen times at least, but always in the context of a joke. Always “we should run away,” never actually discussing or working on the logistics of that fantasy.

Aunna’s smile faded and she looked solemn and guarded.

It was an effort not to hold her breath. Yué’s heartbeat picked up pace.

“How lovely,” Aunna said, not looking at anything other than the sketch. “Princess, I’ll make myself something like this too!” She inserted cheer into her voice that didn’t show on her face.

Relief washed over her, along with grateful affection for her loyal friend and handmaiden.

Yué hadn’t designed a wardrobe suited for the polar winters. If she didn’t manage to find a way out of here before marrying Hahn, she was going to be awfully cold.

Instead of using the cottons in layers inside furs and leather to make single, warm garments, Yué had designed layers that could be worn as separate garments. The middle-aged spearman overseeing her probably didn’t know enough about clothing to think much of it, if he even paid attention.

Yué laid out a thin purple cotton in the darkest shade and began tracing a shape, using a thread marked with lines at each of her crucial measurements to determine the sizing. Aunna took up a different sketch and spread out on the other end of the large table, doing something similar.

‘If I get out of here, I am not going incognito. I’m probably the only white-haired girl in the world and I’m a princess. If I look the part I can be received and hosted at any court that I can get to.’

Ba Sing Se, perhaps, or Omashu. Any one of the fabulously wealthy merchants or nobles of the Earth kingdom would be thrilled to have a princess as a guest.

To that end, she had thought carefully about how to convey her station without the use of layered furs. Long trains were still essential. She was used to walking in them now, but given that the earth kingdom wouldn’t have pristine ice floors outside, she needed to have a way to keep the trains off the ground when she was outside.

The tension slowly left the room while the teenagers worked. After a few hours her guard gave her a deep, respectful bow, and his shift ended. The next guard was an anxious-looking younger axe man. Yué caught Aunna eyeing his biceps when she put down her work and stretched her hands.

“Bring some fabric for yourself tomorrow,” Yué suggested softly. “You can make that same design in blue.”

”come with me”, was the subtext.

“This will take me at least another work day,” Aunna pointed out. “So I’ll finish it first and then make mine.”

”I will,” was the answer. 

Yué nodded approval. “I’ll make stockings next… it always feels better to vary projects.”

“That’s true, I’ll make something small as well. I was thinking about gloves for spring,” Aunna said, “with open fingertips for delicate work.”

Yué hummed and indicated a piece of cloth. “This dark fabric, with white embroidery?”

Her friend made an appreciative sound. “That will be gorgeous, Princess.”

They worked into the evening, skipping lunch in favor of more tea and some cut fruit with rice cakes. Yué was ravenous by dinner time, when Aunna had to go. They packed their work back up and set the basket underneath the table, ready for tomorrow. They embraced goodbye at the door and Yué locked the door.

She was looking forward to a lively dinner with the guests. She walked into an iciness that took her aback.

Avatar Aang was staring at the tabletop bleakly. His thin shoulders were slumped forward. Sokka was tense, although his tone was friendly while he talked with Parnak, the head of the kitchen.

Katara didn’t look up when Yué entered. She was fidgeting with a length of leather cord, winding it around her fingers nimbly and unwinding it just as fast, in a dizzying pattern that probably correlated to some intricate Southern knot work.

Yué wanted to ask but she thought better of it when she saw the other girl’s face.

Katara’s blue eyes were tired, downcast at the table. The proud posture from the day before was gone. She was taking up less space.

….Yué thought she might know why.

“Good evening, Katara,” she greeted. She avoided her assigned seat next to Sokka, closer to her father, and instead slipped in next to the other girl. “You seem troubled.”

The other tribes woman gave her a wild-eyed look, eyes darting between Yué and the head of the table.

Yué didn’t have to look to know that her father and Master Pakku were in that area. Ah.

“Did you find yourself in the healer’s tent?” Yué asked gently.

Katara nodded cautiously. “Yes, I… I spent the morning and afternoon with Healer Yugoda, learning about the human body.”

“Healer Yugoda is highly regarded,” Yué commented. “Her granddaughter is my handmaiden and companion. I admire her.”

That got a slow nod. “She is impressive,” Katara acknowledged. “She knows so much. It’s just…” she trailed off, looking for a way to express her thoughts without being rude.

Yué hummed. “It isn’t what you expected from water bending training?” She gently led.

The other girl nodded. Katara glanced at Pakku again, this time with a slight scowl.

Yué didn’t have to look around to know that this was the closest to privacy she got. There was no need for a specific bodyguard to watch over her in the crowded dining hall, so no one was deliberately observing her. She kept her expression blandly polite and her tone just as inoffensive when she said, “I understand that in the Southern water tribe, it is tradition for the female benders to learn the martial aspect as well. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Katara said, a little too vehemently to be subtle. She lowered her tone, clearly a little embarrassed by how that had come out. “I… I was surprised that I wasn’t allowed to join in the practice.”

Yué nodded, thinking it over. “It is the tradition of the Northern tribe to train women as healers and men as warriors,” she said. She had to speak a little quickly to cut off whatever Katara was going to say with a scowl. “This is of course intended to ensure our culture is preserved. I wonder if there’s ever been a case before where stepping outside that norm of behavior would not result in a violation of the order the common sense practice ensures.”

Katara stared. “I don’t understand.”

“We don’t teach water bending to women not because teaching it is inherently wrong, but because it’s wrong for women in this tribe to be warriors,” Yué explained patiently. “Perhaps an exception to our custom can be arranged, given that it won’t lead to a violation of our cultural norm. We are aware that in the South, things are different. Would you like me to ask my father about this?”

“Yes!” Katara said, far too loudly.

Yué felt eyes turn to them. “Will you join the healing classes again tomorrow?” She asked, deliberately casual.

Katara flushed a deep red and squirmed down in her seat. She went with the conversation change. “Yes, I will. It’s not what I expected to learn but it’s very valuable and important knowledge.”

Yué smiled. “I am happy that you appreciate what Healer Yugoda has to teach you. In that case, I’ll let you be.”

“Huh?” Katara tilted her head a little.

“I was going to extend an invitation tomorrow, if you were free,” Yué explained.

Sokka emerged from absolutely nowhere to throw an arm over his sister’s shoulder. “An invitation!” He exclaimed cheerfully. “That sounds wonderful, Princess Yué, where are we going?”

She eyed him, and saw her father looking over with a frown. Pakku was outright scowling at the teenager. As she watched, the elderly master rose and left the table.

‘He has no idea how inappropriate he’s being. I wonder if the seating arrangement will be altered tomorrow.’

Yué closed her eyes and hid the smile that tried to come out. “Oh, I was going to invite Katara to join me in sewing tomorrow,” she explained. “It’s nothing that you’d be interested in, I’m sure.”

“Oh.” He slumped a little, and then straightened. “Not that sewing and women’s work aren’t interesting! Men can do them- well, I can’t do it,” he said to himself. Sokka frowned. “But that’s not what I mean you know?”

She did not know what he meant. She gave him a polite smile.

“Daughter.”

She automatically rose and gave the guests a bow, including the Avatar. He still looked miserable and distracted.

Her Father had arranged for an open chair. Yué slid into it and accepted the hand towel the server offered to her. “Good evening, Father,” she said quietly.

He smiled at her, affection making the lines of his face soft. “I have good news, Yué.”

She blinked up at him, waiting. She had a rock sitting in her stomach.

Her father leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Keep an eye out for a necklace. We reached an agreement today.”

It took every ounce of discipline in her body to keep her expression pleasant. She stared at her Father a little too long. She didn’t have any words.

His smile slipped when she didn’t thank him. “Yué,” he said, quiet and disappointed. “Be practical.”

She nodded twice and avoided looking at him. She should take advantage of the time alone to advocate for Katara but there was a lump in her throat. “I don’t feel well,” she managed. “Excuse me.”

Without waiting to be dismissed Yué stood and left the room. She heard a small commotion as the guards hashed out who would follow her. She felt a twinge of regret that her actions would deprive someone of his dinner but she didn’t turn around. She went straight to her suite and locked the door. The guard would have to stand outside all evening in the hallway.

She could have studied or gone to bed. Instead, she drew out her vanity drawers and brought them to the table, along with her jewelry box. She worked late into the night, sewing valuable beads onto her clothing as decoration and hiding gold and pearls in the seams. She put everything away before bed, careful to ensure no one would see anything unusual. She would be taking the full wealth of her position with her when she left, or as close to it as possible.

She felt more certain in her decision now.

Living as a perpetual child in her own home was only slightly better than dying to save the moon. There was less dignity in it, certainly. The thought of being the voiceless wife of Hahn, duty bound to birth his children… it made her want to scream and cry and hit her pillow. She stared up at her ceiling with dry eyes and anger curling in her stomach. There would be no escape from that if she didn’t get out, it would never improve. Hahn didn’t respect her or even like her as a person. He knew enough to look at her face but she wasn’t foolish enough to think this was a romance for him. She was an attractive body that had financial and status perks he could enjoy. That was all.

She wouldn’t. She’d rather die. She admitted that to herself in the darkness and privacy of her own room. Now that it loomed, she thought she’d rather die in the invasion to save the moon than live like that.