Passing the Torch <Shai City, North Pole>

[taartoq]

Taartoq knew he had to work quickly, or his intent would be lost. The voyage to the South Pole was coming too quickly, and having heard right during the celebration that they would leave all too soon, he had taken it upon himself to leave posthaste and gather exactly what he had needed. During that time, he had made sure to sigh plenty of times, losing even more faith in those overly predictable archivists who failed to act in time. Sometimes he felt the weight of his career was only on his narrow shoulders. Thankfully, that didn't damage his self-respect as much as it made him feel superior.

Nimble hands felt and grabbed for relevant materials, anything carried over from times past that could help to preserve past traditions, enriching culture and keeping lore alive as it had always been. It was a valiant effort that the diligent waterbender was willing to take. Hopefully the rebuilt south could match the glory of the north, even when the threat of war was so strong in either tribe. Where there was desire, though, all things were possible. The Water Tribe was always as adaptable as their innate element. Water could never be destroyed, but would take a different form.

Everything done was in plain sight, not hidden from the public. Every copied scroll and book given a casual glance, set upon a block of ice overlaid with animal skin acting as a cart (another advantage to being a waterbender Taartoq foresaw), which he would bend alongside him whenever a change in locations was needed. The second and third levels of the building would be reached soon enough, but being on the ground floor that afternoon left him wide open to be harassed by onlookers. When his mind wasn't preoccupied on materials pertaining to the Southern Water Tribe, he prayed no one interrupt his work. Another archivist, Dyami, was there for a reason. Wherever he was (since he was most assuredly not where Taartoq could see), he would handle interested persons and leave the waterbender in peace.

[ukaleq]

Her skirts swished on the ground, the cream colored pleats of her thick, multi-layered under dresses flaring out into a lovely a-shape and away from her hips. Her hands gingerly held onto a folded blanket at her waist, her dark, umber colored fingers with their finely filed nails holding onto the fleece gently. Her torso was wrapped with a new midnight blue indigo hanfu worn over a slim, ivory colored ruqun top which had a plain collar that wrapped around her neck, the wrap continuing around her upper torso. The hanfu had a similar collar, one that sat high and hid much of her slender neck behind it's embroidery silk trim that was nearly two inches thick. The silk was the colored of cornflower, a saturated, soft pastel blue that was speckled with tiny hand painted flowers in varying shades of periwinkle blue and cerulean blue. A thin ribbon of white fur ran between the silk and the thicker fabric of the main body of the shenyi hanfu. The right lapel of the robe folded over the left part of her body, cut with a curve so that it folded around her lower torso once more so that the point met with the fold across her chest. This created the illusion of a spiral, narrowing the young woman's ample bosom and hips.

The illusion was further enhanced by a small belt that wrapped around her waist made of the same silk as the collars, and tied with a dark, navy blue ribbon that hung off to the right side, carved ivory coins suspended from the ends as decorations. The sleeves were full length, hanging just past her thumb, their cuffs made of matching silk and just large enough for two hands to pass through, though the actual body of the sleeve had a large, half-moon shaped pocket. Her braided hair fell in it's usual style, the two loops over her shoulder, wrapped with dark blue linen as they tucked behind her now bare ears.. Yes, Ukaleq wasn't wearing her usual tulle, floral decorations over her ears, instead, the pins that held her braids, both the front and back braids, were decorative bits of silver and pale blue stone, each with a single, tiny white feather set in them. They encircled the back curve of her skull, but came no higher than her ears, instead those way ward strands curled down around her face.

Ukaleq had come to the archives today to deliver a gift to Master Taartoq, the head Archivist and the one she most admired for his work. It was a baby blanket.. a warm, wool blanket with hand embroidery that displayed the protective spirits of the tribe in a quilt like manner. The brave bear, the giant wolf, the eagle and the hawk, the benevolent whales.. all were depicted on this gift that she had spent many of the past evenings working on. It was a gift to him and his wife for their child to be...

Her mother had looked at the young woman with concern, finding her infatuation with the Archivist a bit worrisome. She did not know how much her daughter admired him, but even Ukaleq knew that it was foolish to feel this way. Her mind told her this, time and time again, and even now, it tried to distract her with thoughts of that Gondolier.. He had been so tall.. and those three girls he was ferrying that time. Ukaleq smiled to herself with the fond memories of the girls as she entered the Archive main room through the arched, carved door. Ever day, she had reminded herself of their birthdays so that she might catch them with a small gift like she had promised.

Her head lifted, as she bit her lower lip in excitement and she descended the low stairs into the main room. Where was Master Taartoq at? She knew he did not like to be disturbed, but maybe he would take a few moments to accept her gift..? Her finger throbbed momentarily to remind her of the difficulties of sewing such a thick fabric. She saw one of the assistant archivists hunkered over a desk near the entrance, perhaps waiting to assist someone who came through? Ukaleq took a deep breath and approached the man with a small, and slow step. She bowed her head as she came to a stop, speaking softly even as her head was down. "..Hello, I was hoping to speak to Master Taartoq for a few moments..?"

[taartoq]

"Ah yes," said the man at the desk, gazing up at the girl of impeccable dress. The final stroke of his brush upon the paper before him came to a slow stop, ending the somewhat tedious chore of marking down some unimportant details, then the man rose from his seat and calmly extended his hand to the side. He would lead the young noblewoman where she needed to be, despite Taartoq's plainly told requests. The waterbender's lack of insight into his ploy was showing a strong drawback now, as Dyami saw nothing wrong with interrupting Taartoq's task just to let Ukaleq say hello. As far as he knew, Taartoq was being his normal grumpy self, withdrawn from everyone else and engrossed in his own trivial chores. "Please follow me. I will be glad to assist."

So on Taartoq's side, not taking note of the soft voices on the story below him, he gave the ice block before him a gentle push that slid it across the ground. When it neared the shelf beside it, on the other end of the frosty ice window flanked by bookshelves, a subtle grabbing motion of his hand stopped the makeshift cart immediately. The handful of scrolls and books aboard barely moved around at all.

Footsteps behind him in the empty place were made known well before, allowing him to anticipate at least one person approaching him, yet he still gritted his teeth a little when a voice interrupted him before he could even return to the block of ice. Shaking his head, Taartoq turned around to face Dyami, his colleague, with no amount of exasperation hidden from his features. His voice was still calm, despite the impatient words spoken. "Had you forgotten already?"

The older man, in his mid-thirties at the most, smiled rather knowingly in return. Taartoq's lack of explanation was being exploited, and it would be a matter of time before he realized it. "You have a visitor," Dyami said as he sidestepped, leaving Lady Ukaleq plainly in the waterbender's line of site.

So instead of people pestering him because they were lost, they started to pester him on purpose now. Peachy.

"Welcome," Taartoq said to the young girl rather boredly.

[ukaleq]

She offered a gentle, subtle smile as the archivist looked up at her, having finished his last sentence. He set aside the brush and rose, stepping out from the desk, directing Ukaleq with a wave of his hand. Obediently, Ukaleq followed the man as he led her through the bookshelves to where the Master Archivist was position near the windows, his work spread out all around him on the higher level, a reading and working nook that he had taken over. His work stopped as they neared, and he straightened. Ukaleq's eyes flattering stared at his long, dark sienna colored hair, pulled back from his face with ribbons though a few stray strands hung into his face. There was a pause of silence before he turned towards his assistant with a rather dull tone of voice, "Had you forgotten already?"

Ukaleq felt her cheeks flush. He didn't want visitors. She bowed her head, her hands tightening on the folded blanket. She felt sick to her stomach now; she hadn't wanted to interrupt him.. but just dropping a gift off wouldn't be bad. Her brows arched with worry as she fidgeted, biting her lower lip once again. Dyami stepped aside, a move which surprised Ukaleq as she looked up through her long, curled lashes, her ocean blue eyes wide with surprise. She didn't say anything at first, her tiny mouth hanging just a bit open.

"Welcome." It was brief, it was dull.. it was.. cold. She really had interrupted him hadn't she. Now, with her cheeks probably bright red and hot, Ukaleq lifted her head just enough. She stepped forward, the toes of her seal-hide boot kicking the pleated underskirts out. "..Er.. Um.. here.." She spoke softly, her voice almost a quiet whisper as she offered him the folded up quilt with both hands. "I.. made this for you and Mistress Padma.. and for your little girl. ..To keep her warm." Her eyes diverted away from his face, turning her smooth, rounded profile with it's soft, barely curving nose, to him.. for some reason, she felt a bit like crying. A tightness in her chest, an ache in her head.

"I hope you like it."

[taartoq]

It didn't take much for Taartoq to realize he had some effect over the young woman. Sure he held a certain sway in every manner, but over her his influence seemed to send each step of her foot and each waft of her arm atwitter. To note he didn't directly see her eyes too often was noteworthy as well. His mere presence may have been forcing her into a shell, whose origin Taartoq had never known. Yet all the time, despite its apparence, he would pretend many things about her admiring eyes.

It was one thing to be an unattainable object, a 'forbidden fruit' so to speak, but she at least kept her mouth shut. It was like a blessing in disguise that she didn't overtly follow him to and fro, despite what the young noblewoman may feel inside. In all though, he would treat her like a human being, neither in exaltation or derision.

It was moving hear she remembered most of what he said, their hope for a baby girl to touch their lives. It made Taartoq loosen a bit, to the point where his full lips parted slightly almost in awe before he sprung back to a stilted posture, spine straight, shoulders proud and arms folded neatly at the small of his back. It seemed she was one of few who cared, though the reasons were clear. It was an honor, nonetheless.

Carefully he reached, stepping forward and cradling the lovely quilt in his fingers, drawing it closer and gazing over each loving stitch that went into its care. The very intention alone was admirable, and to think of all the time that went into it made Taartoq drift off in appreciative thought. Lady Ukaleq was even better a candidate than before, and sure to win over her own children someday. She would be a fine mother.

"There is great care in this work," Taartoq said rather distantly, noncommital to his words. Even now when his soul was touched he couldn't find a direct way to express positive feelings, but to know and study Taartoq's actions and persona would reveal he really did enjoy the thought well. Moving the drape of warm, woven fabric to its other side to gaze upon other details, he looked her straight in the eye and raised his chin a bit, lips pulling to the faintest of smiles. "I thank you."

Ukaleq had gotten more of a gift returned than she'd realized. It felt like days since Taartoq had smiled sincerely, not in a show of false bravado making cold and dry humor his only way of contacting mankind. This wall was lowered gently to the ground and contact assured, but even then it felt like too much. He didn't want to bring her too close only to push her away again. It was only a present, not even for Taartoq himself to receive.

A slight bow preceded a step back, wherein he pivoted slightly on his heel and walked to his ice-block cart, extending his hand over the works he had amassed. Scrolls of songs, memoirs telling firsthand the lost traditions shared by the sisterly tribes, and diaries from ages ago numbered among the small and neat stacks he presented to the girl. No doubt she would be interested in his current project, even if he didn't want to be too personal.

The quilt was folded neatly and placed beside the books and scrolls atop copious layers of fur, not to be forgotten on his return home. "Tomorrow an expedition leaves for the South Pole. I hope to do my part...sharing lore and rebuilding our sister tribe on its old foundation will quite noble." He neither told her to leave or stay, but her quiet and meek presence would not be an obstacle. He would be glad to tell more, even if he seemed rather preoccupied.

[ukaleq]

Her heart fluttered as his handsome features and youthful face, just brushed with the fine lines of age, gave way to the slightest of a smile. She wasn't even sure of what she was seeing. He had taken the folded quilt, small and dainty and just for a child, from her and he held it, looking down at it with the same quiet reverence he gave the documents in the archives. Strands of hair tumbled from where they had been carefully brushed behind his ears, from behind his shoulders, as his large, yet fine-boned hands traveled across the tiny stitches.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy red as she tried to contain her excitement, her smile plumping the apples of her cheeks, her lips parting to show the row of perfect white teeth. He hand taken the offered quilt, and her hands had fallen in front of her, grasping each other in front of her gently rounded stomach, the dark fabric minimizing the plump. She rubbed the back of her hand with her thumb, keeping her chin somewhat down, her eyes demure, though she now felt accepted enough to look more at him.

He complimented her work, stating that she had taken great care in putting the quilt together. She bit her tongue at the compliment, wanting to elaborate that it had been something she had been working on in her spare time as a project, but had no purpose until he had mentioned wanting a baby girl. Then she had hurried, working late into the nights by lamp night stitching the colorful and bright swatches of fabric in the shapes of the spirits to the main body of the quilt.

Then he looked at her, a gentle smile on his dark lips. Just the hint. Her knees melted, she felt her stomach warm up, a warmth and a cheerful giddiness that rose up from her toes to the top of her head. For a moment, the voice in the back of her head that constantly reminded her of how foolish her feelings were for this married man and soon to be father, shut up. Perhaps, she was coming to accept that fact? That she could enjoy his compliments without that constant reminder nagging her? She returned his gentle smile, replacing her excited one with a more subdued one.

The archivist stepped back, folding the quilt back up as he gestured to the gathered scrolls, maps, and other things laid out on the blocks of ice. She stepped forward a bit, daring to get closer to the gathered documents. He set the quilt aside, and then stepped closer to his work to resume sorting and separating. He explained that these were being set with the expedition to the south pole, to their sister tribe. Ukaleq had heard of it over dinners with her father and family. She looked towards him, watching as he spoke, and then turned her blue eyes to the scrolls and what not. "How wonderful. I am glad to hear that we will be in contact with our sister tribe again, that we will be aiding them in their rebuilding."

She had heard of the plight of the southern tribe, being one of the nobles in attendance of the banquet in honor of the Avatar's arrival and Princess Yue's birthday. She reached out with with her hands and gently pushed one of the curled corners of the nearest scroll down. It was a water bending tome.. "..I would have liked to go."

[taartoq]

Again it made him feel slightly nervous how the girl was growing comfortable, probably feeling more entitled to things, and undoubtedly optimistic about both their task at hand and the greater picture wherein the Southern Tribe would grow to the same glory as their northern brothers. Granted, she was a noble and had the best manners and etiquette compared to other northerners, but there was still the chance his nearing another person and connecting on some level may lead to something he may regret, some word of mouth spread that degraded his very character and made him want to venture out to the wilds again, albeit never to return lest he face dreaded mockery and want to hide his face.

One never could judge based on these sorts of impressions, as he'd heard well how even the mannered and tempered vision of royalty, Princess Yue, had a penchant for keeping rumors alive and well. Gossip was no stranger to the strong and well-knit fabric that was the women of the Northern Tribe.

Her expression of interest in the expedition struck him as the same kind of bright-eyed naivete as he felt in younger years. He had longed many times to go to the Earth Kingdom, or even just leave the high and confining walls of the city. Fortunately he could learn first hand what it meant to survive in the wild, if even for three whole days.

Sunrises, aurorae, mountains, and vast fields of nothing were their own reward, but it seperated him from many things he forgot he appreciated. Even though he washed his precious hair too many times to count after coming home, he still felt like accumulated grime from time spent away from such amenities would never go away. It could make his skin crawl if his mind weren't wholly on this certain task.

He took the tome from Ukaleq's hand slowly, respectfully making sure he didn't possibly pull too hard and stress her delicate wrist, then nodded in return. "Thank you." Unfortunately, that didn't earn her another smile. His face was blank as before and his eyes, again, seemed to stare right past her so coldly. "There are many things here in the city to which we've grown accustomed,' the waterbender spoke indescriminatory, though she would surely know he was either referring to himself, her, or both at once. "It's not until we are seperated from these things that we'll long for them. As a noble...there would be much you wouldn't have." He wasn't trying to be a downer, but it was the cold truth to let her know just what traveling south would entail. Placing the book on the icy block, Taartoq momentarily looked back to Ukaleq. "I too would have liked to go. But it would mean sacrifice to things I enjoy...things I adore...things you and I feel we need."

[ukaleq]

Ukaleq stepped back as she pulled her hand away quickly from the parchment as he reached across and grasped it from her. A pang of guilt, and also of privileged accusation went through her. It wasn't as if the tome was in bad condition or rare. It was a simple waterbending tome that was used in instruction and copied quiet often. To touch it.. wasn't damaging like it could have been to some of the older, more delicate pieces. She found herself feeling annoyed that he took it away from her. The noblewoman stepped back from the table, bringing her hand up to grasp one of her dark, umber braids that hung over her right shoulder before lopping back up to tuck behind her ear.

Quietly, she pressed her lips together as she listened to him speak. "There are many things here in the city to which we've grown accustomed." Well certainly he was exaggerating? Surely the Northern Water Tribe was one of the most civilization nations in the world but they would be able to live without the luxuries, wouldn't they? She lifted her chin up mentally, feeling that surely it would not be that difficult to bring culture and civilization to their sister tribe.

"It's not until we are separated from these things that we'll long for them. As a noble...there would be much you wouldn't have. I too would have liked to go. But it would mean sacrifice to things I enjoy...things I adore...things you and I feel we need." She looked at him curiously, her eyebrows curving upward as she looked at him, her plump lower lip hanging parted from her upper lip. Her dark eyes were almost.. skeptical. And yet.. her mind wasn't sure what to think as she turned her round, apple-cheeked face up towards the leaner, taller archivist. Could she?> Surely the silk imported from the Earth Kingdom, the fine white fur and the metal and ivory cutlery that had been passed through her family were not that important in her life? Her bone needles? The simple joys of riding in a gondola? Her rich, long and thick dresses?

..The idea.. it was certainly something to chew on. She didn't say anything, but remained quiet, diverting her eyes from him as she looked back to the table in front of her. She lowered her hands, folding them in front of her as she withdrew into her shell once more.

[taartoq]

He had apparently given her more food for thought than she had the time or inclination to digest, knowing so as he observed her become quiet and withdrawn, saying nothing at all. It was the cold, hard truth however, much like the very nature of the block upon which a carpet of furs and a proverbial handful of documents lay, but even the strongest waterbender wouldn't be able to alter it in their favor. Evidently, the young woman took it just that way, not challenging his claim no matter how fallacious it seemed. He could be wrong, he could be right, but Taartoq at least had more of an idea what he was talking about than he did before his brief communal with nature, his sleigh ride to the middle of nowhere; the top of the world.

The waterbending tome Ukaleq handed him sparked no conversation at the moment. Perhaps later either one would mention waterbending and its role in the south, but now it meant so very little. He wasn't even sure if the girl could waterbend, as there were few earmarks a woman (or man) of the north could display, indicating they could bend. He knew Padma spoke of the girl being at the healing huts, but felt too few more reason to believe one way or another.

He too said nothing, as befit his character, thus allowing silence as their rather comfortable domain. Either soul seemed complacent in not saying a word, though it likely wouldn't make either one happier, leaving them in a sort of social stagnation until one found the wherewithall to say goodbye and exit the premises. Knowing Taartoq's task at hand, it was obvious who would have to leave first. The waterbending archivist was going nowhere quickly. The next afternoon was far enough away so he didn't have to rush, praise the spirits, but his hands still moved quickly by his own assent. When it came to realization, he saw, knew, and remembered fully there was nothing more on that bookshelf to collect. It was time to move on.

"Excuse me," were his first words in minutes, making sure Ukaleq didn't find herself in the way. He could be careful enough so as to guide the speeding block of ice away with no problems, but consideration was an easy task. Prim and properly, he alerted her to danger, no matter how minor. Palms forward, he gave a tiny nudge that allowed the block to move where he wished and stop on his command, roughly five or six feet ahead in front of the next bookshelf. They were away from the window, a tad darker than before, but there was still enough light to see. Taartoq turned and looked to the wall of books and scrolls, parchment and vellum, pondering what next to take.

[ukaleq]

She stepped aside as he excused himself and his ice block, the dark fur stretched over it to keep the materials dry. Ukaleq kept her head down now, still chewing on that seed that Taartoq had planted in her mind. She had made a foolish move, saying that she would have liked to go south. Was it really so hard? Certainly.. maybe when their Southern Brothers and Sisters had recovered a bit, it would not be unimaginable to travel. Lifting her head, she watched as he passed, silently and unconscious admiring his long, dark hair with it's shimmering strands, loose braids, and woven strands. Her own hair was not as brilliant, rather dull and lacking the inner light, though it was soft and well cared for. She watched him up through thick lashes, but quickly dropped her dull midnight blue eyes.
Would she follow him? She twisted her hands together, intertwining her fingers together. Glancing to his back, she eyed him, watching him work.

I should probably go She thought, realizing that she must be interrupting his work. It was important work after all, sending some of their greatest works of literature, research and art to the Southern Tribe to aid in their rebuild. The arrival of the honorable Sokka and Katara, companions of the Avatar, had opened all of their eyes to what exactly had gone on outside their northern tribe. She folded an arm across her torso, her dark skinned hand resting on her right hip while her left hand idly played with the wide silk trim of her hanfu's wrapped collar. She pursed her lips together, watching him sort and draw the records from the shelf, making no effort to hide it now. There was a sorrowful look to her eyes, the way her slender eye brows curved upward, subtle wrinkles forming in her forehead.

After a moment, she dropped her head, her fingers ceasing their movement though she held still that collar. "I should return home now." Ukaleq confessed, though she had no reason other than her father's concern to return home in reality. He would worry, as all Father's should and it would not be right for Ukaleq to cause him worry. The young woman lifted her head, offering him a gentle and kind smile that stretched her raspberry colored lips and caused her cheeks to flush. It was a shy smile, a demure one, but none the less, a smile by how her eyes sparkled and crinkled. "..Give my best regards to your wife, Master Taartoq."

Was she sad? Yes. Was she heart broken? No, not really. She was accepting the fact that he would never be nothing more than a mentor to her, if that even. He was so.. he kept to himself so much that she would never know any more than she already did. It was a bittersweet ending for a lack-luster romance that never took off. She was not hurt, she was not angry. She was sad.. and that was alright with her. The noblewoman bowed her head forward, the silver ornaments that encircled the back of her head glittering in the light that was to her back. Upon lifting her head, she offered one more glimmer of a kind and adoring smile, before she turned and began to walk hastily down the aisle to where she could ascend the shallow stairs again, cream colored skirts fluttering just above the ground while the wrapped hanfu kept it's perfect bell shape.

[Ukaleq out unless there is anything else.]

[taartoq]

Taartoq saw the polite, eloquent young woman worhty of an affable see-off, but the most of such a thing he would manifest would be exactly what he decided to do; the waterbender, the archivist, the nobleman...just stood there. When she spoke he listened, but he said nothing. With his arms behind his back, his posture was flawlessly straight and allowed his luxuriant hair to flow downward like a waterfall. Body and face so motionless like an ice statue, his vibrant, sky-blue eyes watched.

Doubtless as the fair Lady Ukaleq walked away and if she chose to look, she would see the solitary man's robin-egg blue robe blur into the darkness as the distance between them grew, alienating her from the greatest details of his outfit, including the matching short mantle-like shawl he wore, designed after those observed to be worn by past generations of Fire Nation enemies-- an exception, aside from color, would be the waterbender insignia-bearing clasp at the neckline, clutching together at the collar two halves of the same high, fur-lined collar. It was a style worn mostly by the wealthy who could dare to verge from a 'normal' style borne by simplicity, but one Taartoq wore well.

Distantly observing the young woman until she simply disappeared, Taartoq returned to his works saying exactly as much as before. He was a quiet soul who currently had no reason to speak, except to enlighten the noble-blooded youth who graced his presence and shared with his family a wonderfully appreciated gift, whether or not he decided to acknowledge how she left. He had given her a smile, which was enough of a rarity to matter, but again, he was free to carry on his self-imposed duties. There was much to be done.

The End