Chapter Text
Asami sank down onto the bed and flipped open her laptop. The final episode of Hotman wouldn’t air on networks for another two days, but she still had all the passwords to log into the live filming stream downstairs and was counting on the fact that Varrick wouldn’t think to change them. Sure enough, her screen soon filled with a split view of the mansion’s empty foyer. The feed was live but they hadn’t started yet. She was just in time.
“Are you going to be okay?” Princess Tai peered at her from where she’d perched on the edge of the dresser. As family she’d been invited to the finale; smuggling Asami into Iroh’s room at the Hotman mansion as well had been mostly her doing. My brother is going to need you, after, she’d said. Please. Be there for each other. Asami hadn’t needed much convincing though. For one, she already missed Iroh terribly. They’d talked every day since she left Caldera, but they might not have as much opportunity for that once he was “engaged” to Korra and the chance of spending one final night alone with him was too tempting. Her townhouse held nothing but empty echoes. For another, she remembered how fiercely Iroh had hugged her after his week of individual dates. Asami had no trouble believing that he’d need a friend tonight as much as she did. More than a friend. Someone who loved him. She’d even brought tea.
“I’ll be fine,” Asami said, though she wasn’t entirely sure. “I know what Iroh has to do and what to expect. I practically wrote the script.” She tried to smile. “I just hope I don’t scare him half to death when he finds me in his bedroom.”
“You know he’ll love it,” grinned Tai. “He’s such a sap.”
Asami remembered the time he’d shown up at her door with the single fire lily. I choose you, Asami. This time her smile was genuine. “Yeah. He is.”
Suddenly there was movement on camera. There’d be no music yet, of course. Instead Camera 2 panned as Iroh silently walked down the stairs. His face was sober, but determined: a hardened general before the final battle of the war. Asami’s heart went out to him. He looked good though, every inch the desirable bachelor in a slim-fitting charcoal suit. Though whoever had put a man with his complexion in a baby blue tie deserved to be shot. Asami huffed. Clearly standards had slipped since she’d left Hotman.
Iroh was met at the bottom by a grinning Bolin and Shiro Shinobi, who immediately launched into his opening speech. Iroh’s responses were wooden, but believable. He’d clearly rehearsed. Anyone watching would simply chalk it off to nerves. A few minutes and it would all be over.
It was only when he started speaking to Kuvira that his demeanor changed. His jaw and shoulders relaxed, and his tone took on a warmth it hadn’t had a moment ago. Asami leaned closer, watching. She’d spent weeks examining Iroh’s expressions and body movements on film, and all of a sudden she realized that this time he wasn’t lying. His compliments to Kuvira were as genuine as his rejection.
“Tonight’s fire lily belongs to someone else,” he said, but in that moment Asami knew what he really meant. My heart belongs to someone else. Her fingers tightened around the edges of her laptop. Iroh would know she was watching.
“Almost there,” said Tai behind her. She’d moved to lean against the headboard so she could watch the cameras as well. Asami thought it was sweet that she hadn’t gone down to the production room but had instead opted to stay here with her until Iroh came up. The last thing Asami wanted right now was to be left alone.
Soon Korra glided across the foyer. She was beautiful, all dusky skin and brilliant blue eyes. She’d done something new with her hair, too, somehow turning her long bob into a neat updo with two bound front tails framing her face. Asami saw Iroh visibly stiffen. A small part of her was grateful for that. Whatever Korra’s apparent charms it seemed he still wasn’t looking forward to what was to come.
“Korra,” he said, stuttering slightly. But Iroh didn’t seem to be able to get the rest of the words out. Asami leaned forward, silently urging him on. She hoped that somehow downstairs he could feel her thinking about him.
“You can do it,” she whispered at his tiny figure. “You’ve got this.”
“Korra,” Iroh said again, a little more firmly. “I—”
Korra abruptly backed up. Asami blinked. “What’s she doing?” she muttered. Then Korra dropped to one knee right there on the red carpet, dress and all. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Asami exclaimed. “Really?” Iroh for his part looked utterly baffled. Whatever was happening obviously wasn’t part of the plan.
“Iroh,” Korra said, looking up at him, “these last few weeks have been some of the most amazing of my life. I’ve gotten to know so many people on the show that really opened my eyes to love. I’ve gotten to know, understand, and respect you. You’re a really special guy who deserves someone who will love and cherish you for the rest of your days, and who will stand by your side in the Fire Nation no matter what.”
“Is she seriously doing this?” Asami growled. “Varrick is going to shit himself.”
“So, I know it’s a little weird,” Korra continued on screen, “but I have a question for you. Prince Iroh II of the Fire Nation”—Asami steeled herself—“will you marry the show producer, Asami Sato?”
“WHAT?” spat Asami. She gaped open-mouthed at the screen. She hadn’t heard that wrong though, there was no way. If nothing else, Iroh’s shocked expression was confirmation enough. He stared down at Korra like she’d turned into a frog in front of his eyes. Then he straightened, a grin spreading across his face like a sunrise.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, if she’ll have me. With all my heart.”
Korra popped to her feet and pulled Iroh into a full-body hug as Tai cheered. Shiro and Bolin started to clap.
“You might be wondering who Asami Sato is,” said Shiro into the camera. “Until recently, Asami was the executive producer of season eight of Hotman. And we’re thrilled to confirm that under her tenure on the show, a real love connection was made. It just wasn’t the one we expected.” Suddenly Camera 2 was replaced with a clip of Asami and Iroh talking animatedly in the interview room. Next showed her standing next to Iroh on the beach. He reached up to adjust his hair and she slapped his hand away with a laugh. “During the filming of the show, our Hotman wound up spending a lot of time with the producer. Some of it was required, of course”—a clip played of Asami holding up two different ties to Iroh’s neck in the wardrobe room—“but a lot of it wasn’t.” This was followed by an overhead shot of Iroh standing outside of a door with a box of pizza. Asami opened the door and smiled, showing him in. “While viewers thought that Prince Iroh was falling in love with Korra, in reality, he was falling in love with Asami instead." Iroh now stood outside the same door in a suit. When it opened the door he held out a single fire lily. Asami clutched her chest in surprise and delight. "And it didn’t take long for the rest of the cast to catch on.” The second screen changed to footage of the two of them dancing at the Desert Palms Oasis, Asami’s head on Iroh’s chest. Then Korra’s face filled the screen.
“So like, how would you describe Iroh’s personality then? To someone who didn’t know him well?”
The camera changed to a smiling Asami. “He’s just about the nicest guy I’ve ever met,” she said. “He’s a little reserved, but he gets over that quickly enough once you know him. Really smart—you should see the kinds of things he reads for fun. Kind, genuine. A bit stubborn. He’s actually really funny, too, if you can pick up on the subtlety of it. And he’s just, I don’t know, honorable.”
“If that’s not a woman in love, I don’t know what is,” said Shiro. “And with some more probing from Korra it quickly became clear that they were a match.”
The scene switched to a low table inside a comfortable ice-walled room. “So,” said Korra, “what were you looking for in a woman? Before you met me, that was. Or anyone else.”
“Someone bright and progressive,” Iroh replied, “a problem-solver. Caring. A sense of humor. An intellectual, but someone not afraid to put in the work as well.”
“That’s definitely Asami,” said Bolin. “She’s the hardest working nerd I know.”
Camera 2 started playing a montage of what seemed like every conversation Asami and Iroh had had on the property. In retrospect, and on film, their attachment was so obvious. Asami reaching up to smooth out his hair or straighten his tie. Iroh’s hand on her arm as he talked. Her leaning over him on a garden bench to point at something in a book on his lap. What looked like half a dozen shots of them bringing each other food, or eating and working together at one of the outdoor tables. Iroh absently held out a dumpling to her, which Asami ate off the end of his chopsticks without thinking. Him steadying her waist as she stood on a chair to fix one of the overhead cameras in the hallway. The camera cut to Iroh walking down the stairs to the pool deck in his red bathing suit. Asami gave him a big thumbs up. He grinned back at her.
“Aren’t they adorable?” said Shiro. “So with a little help from Korra and Iroh’s sister, Princess Tai—”
“What, you knew?” Asami whirled on her. Tai gave her an absolutely shiteating grin identical to her brother’s.
“—we’ve managed to bring Asami back to the set tonight.”
“Wait, she’s here?” Iroh said on screen. He started looking around wildly. “Asami?”
“Go on!” Tai said, shoving her shoulder. “Asami, go down there!”
Asami looked down at her comfy oversized sweatshirt and leggings. “Like this?” It was all she could think to say.
“Yes, like this! Go!” Iroh’s sister pushed her off the bed and started shooing her out the door. Asami blundered down the hallway as Shiro’s amplified voice carried up the stairwell.
“And here she comes now!”
Asami made her way down the stairs and into the blinding lights of the set. She felt the weight of every single eye on her, but all she could see was Iroh. He stood in the center of the foyer, a big, shocked grin on his face. Asami didn’t think she’d ever seen someone look so happy. A few quick steps and she felt his arms close tightly around her.
“Did you know?” she whispered into his warm chest.
“No idea,” he chuckled. Then Iroh pulled back, his eyes shining. “So?”
“So?” Asami’s head was still spinning. Was any of this even real?
Iroh gazed down at her with a face full of hope. “So, will you marry me?”
Asami threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
***
They’d kept the ceremony as small as royal weddings could be, but as Iroh scanned the crowd he found himself grateful for the familiar faces. Asami’s bespectacled father sat in the front row next to his mother, both of them crying and doing their best to look like they weren’t. Tai beamed up at him as she held hands with his grandfather. Behind them Iroh could see Bolin sitting next to Opal, and Korra and Kuvira, and in the back even Varrick and Zhu Li with a bored-looking Shiro Shinobi. It had seemed impolite not to invite them. After all, they were the reason he was about to become the happiest of men.
The music began to play and Iroh shifted his attention to the gap at the edge of the gardens. His whole body thrummed with excitement. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the team of royal sketch artists scribbling furiously away, and he smiled. That had been Asami’s idea.
There were, of course, no cameras.