#indian giving

[dont-put-out-the-lighter]

It should be a universal law that you can't Indian give Love

[redzuigiberx]

Indian Giving (7:19 PM)

If his family could see him they would lose any and all ability not to double over in laughter. Hell, Lyle had spent a short amount of time that morning laughing at his own expense. He looked ridiculous in these Water Tribe clothes. They were so bulky and blue. At least compared to the fine and thin silks of the Fire Nation, the tanned leathers and the bright crimsons. He missed his home terribly, he wanted to go back, hell, he'd have to go back soon enough. He wasn't just some prince, he was the Fire Lord and his people needed him. Maris was a good enough leader, a bit too rash in her choices but she would do decently enough while in a position of power. He trusted his sibling. Most of the members of the tribe avoided him at all costs, although some of the men attempted to puff up their scrawny little chests as if Lyle had come to rape and pillage. They would know if he'd come with war on his mind, they'd never forget the sight of two twin dragons twisting and descending upon their silly little ice covered home. But he was a diplomat, calm as always, on the outside at least. Although even then Lyle was a controlled flame, one that could easily spin out of control but even then it was a careful inferno. Maris had taught him how to keep every single part of himself in check when it came to his bending, his fighting, and his personality. Brushing a hand over the thick furs at his shoulders the Fire Lord heaved a sigh, he hated furs and thick clothing, and he was beginning to hate the color blue. It was everywhere here. Blue eyes, blue clothes, blue ice, blue sky, blue water. What was wrong with a little red, a little gold, a little bit of something from the burning sun? But this wasn't his home, he couldn't correct them for living their way in their home.

Rolling his shoulders a bit Lyle began to wander slowly through the home of the tribe leader, he'd spoken to the man, a long drawn out conversation. And while Lyle had forced himself to come across as an intelligent diplomat the fact that he was a boy in love showed through in massive ways he was sure. Although the young Fire Lord couldn't help but to be convinced that, that show in affection and youth had helped him in his plight. He'd asked the Tribe leader for his daughter's hand in marriage. Claiming that it would be good to bind two nations who were known for being at war, to create peace between two polar opposites. And while all of that was true Lyle couldn't bring himself to care, he just wanted her as his wife. That was his number one objective. And he'd gotten it. Granted they weren't going to get married within the next week, she had to spend time here with her family after years of being gone, but she would be his soon enough. The only stipulation that Lyle had made with Edgar was that he would bring her captors head to his fellow ruler. Something Lyle was oddly gleeful about. Maybe that was just the destructive capabilities of fire showing it's ugly face, or maybe he was just protective of her. Whatever it was he couldn't be bothered  to care about it, at least not until that fucker's head was skittering across the ground in front of him. His steps sounded odd on the chilly stone floor, and once more Lyle missed home. A steel grey eye and an amber eye were trained ahead of him bored out of his skull.