Chapter Text
“If we’re going to have many more nights this late, I’m going to need you to provide more coffee and snacks,” Katara told Zuko. She stretched her arms over her head and let out a deep yawn. Zuko glanced up from the forms on his desk apologetically.
“It is pretty late,” he said. “Do you want to stay here tonight? I can have someone prepare your room.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Katara smirked at Zuko. “I knew there had to be perks to being friends with the Fire Lord.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Zuko replied as he rang for a servant. He motioned to the papers spread across his desk and piled around Katara. “This is so far out of your job description, I’m not even sure it’s legal to have you working on it..”
“Well, what’s a little crime between friends?” Katara shrugged. “Besides, if I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Still, I feel bad. You have your own work to do.” Katara snorted and waved her hand carelessly.
“Please! Do you know what an ambassador does?”
“Treaty negotiations and foreign policy?” Zuko guessed. Katara held up a paper she had been reading and waved it a bit.
“Exactly,” she said. “Believe me, I’m getting more of my actual job done by helping you than by sitting at the embassy all day. And this seems to be the only way to spend any time with you these days. You know, I heard from Aang last week. He asked me how you were and I realized, I had no idea. I’ve barely seen you since I got to Caldera.” Zuko’s face colored with shame. Katara had taken her post as ambassador for the Water Tribes nearly two months earlier, but aside from a few dinners that Iroh had invited her to and a few stolen moments between meetings, Zuko had hardly seen his friend. When he found himself buckling under the weight of his latest project- fishing rights off the coast of Whale Tail Island- it was Iroh’s suggestion that Zuko ask Katara for help.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I haven’t been much of a host.”
“Your uncle’s shown me around, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Katara assured him. “I was glad you asked for my help on this. I just wish you had asked sooner. I’ve been worried about you.”
“There’s no reason to be worried,” Zuko scoffed.
“Sure!” Katara sounded very unconvinced. “You’ve proved that by disappearing for weeks at a time in your office. When was the last time you actually got out in the sun?” Zuko folded his arms and scowled a bit petulantly.
“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.
“You need help,” Katara warned him. “I’m happy to do what I can, but you have advisors for this sort of thing. Learn to delegate. I can help with that, too. I've watched my dad do it for years.” Zuko rolled his eyes. Katara made it sound so simple, but…
“How can I trust a group of people who until a few years ago had a vested interest in making sure the war lasted?”
“You vet them!” Katara stood up and gathered the papers she had spent the past few hours pouring over and stacked them neatly on a corner of Zuko’s desk. “You make sure that you get rid of anyone loyal to your father- Toph can help you with that- and you find the people you can trust.”
“It’s not that easy!” Zuko ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. “I would have gotten rid of half of my advisors if it were.” Katara paused, and then sighed. Then- to Zuko’s shock- she reached over the desk and brushed back a lock of his hair.
“Oh, Zuko,” she sighed. “You really aren’t happy unless you’re making yourself miserable, are you?” The blood that had been rushing to Zuko’s face at her touch retreated, and then came back with a vengeance as his mouth twisted into a scowl.
“Whatever,” he grumbled. Katara turned and headed for the door.
“Get some rest,” she ordered. “We’re going to spar tomorrow morning.” She left, not giving Zuko a chance to protest. It didn’t stop him from complaining to himself about it when she was gone, though. And part of him knew Katara was right. Iroh had told him many of the same things Katara had. He needed rest. He knew he did. It was well after midnight, but as he stared at the pile of work they hadn’t gotten through, Zuko had to fight the swell of guilt in his chest.
Twenty minutes, he decided. He would work for another twenty minutes, and then go to bed. He’d get just enough sleep to get through the next day. Of course he would have to find a way to apologize to Katara when he didn’t show up for their sparring session. Though she might be open to forgiving him if he offered to let her help him pick which of his advisors he would hand off some of his work load to. Zuko sat down at his desk and went back to work.
An hour later, Zuko was so absorbed in his work, he almost didn’t hear the click of the door, but the slight creak of the hinges pulled his attention away from his work. He looked up and saw the door edging open. It was too dark to see clearly, but Zuko saw the shadow of someone in the hall.
“Katara?” he called out. The door stopped moving. Zuko narrowed his eyes and tried to see who was there. “If you’re here to check on me, I was just finishing up.”
There was no reply. The door started to swing open again. This time Zuko leapt to his feet. A hand covered in a black glove slipped through the gap and made a jerking motion. All of the candles in the room went out, and Zuko was suddenly plunged into darkness. He reached behind him and rang the bell that signaled the guards. Then he dove from the blow he heard coming. He thought he had dodged it completely, but a stinging pain on his arm and the warmth of fresh flowing blood alerted him that his assailant had a sword.
A fire bender using a sword, Zuko realized. He was also a master swordsman, but that wasn’t a well known fact. It was unusual for a fire bender to be trained with any weapons. Those that were usually were military trained, and even then they were the weakest benders. Acting on his hunch, Zuko made the next attack. He sent two blasts of flame in rapid succession. He didn’t hit the would be assassin, but he had him on the defensive. The brief flashes of light told Zuko that the attacker was wearing a hood and mask. Another well placed blast hit the attacker’s arm. Zuko heard the tell-tale clatter of his sword hitting the ground. He pressed forward, advancing on the intruder before he could reclaim his weapon. When the man tried to defend with his own fire bending, Zuko was able to counter it with little effort.
From the hallway there came the trampling of feet as the place guards finally arrived. Taking advantage of the assassin's distraction, Zuko moved inside the man's reach and knocked him out with a solid blow. The room flared to light. as someone relit the sconces. Uniformed guards poured into the room and almost before Zuko could react, he was hauled to his feet and his attacker handcuffed.
“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” one guard, Zuko racked his frazzled brain for his name.
“I’m fine, Lieutenant Xei,” he said.
“What happened?” Katara shoved her way through the knot of guards and looked around wildly for Zuko.
‘Wait, Your Excellency!” Xei reached out for her arm to stop her, but Katara shook him off. “You can’t go in.”
“Oh, please!” she bristled. When she spotted Zuko, she hurried over with a mix of worry and exasperation on her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. Katara’s gaze zeroed in on his arm. The wound he had forgotten was bleeding freely. It stained the sleeve of his cream shirt a deep burgundy, and spattered on the wood floor. There was a slowly expanding puddle of his blood forming at his feet.
“Fine, huh?” Katara folded her arms impatiently.
“Your Majesty?” Xei was waiting for instruction. The assassin was beginning to stir. His hood and mask had been removed, but Zuko didn’t recognize him. Blood loss was beginning to tell on him, and Zuko swayed on his feet. Katara guided him to a chair and took charge.
“Take him to the dungeon,” she ordered.
“Have him interrogated as soon as he wakes,” Zuko added. Xei nodded and motioned for the guards to take the man away. As they were leaving Katara added. “And someone tell General Iroh what happened."
"There's no need to wake him," Zuko started to protest, but Katara set her jaw stubbornly.
“He’ll want to know.” Zuko didn’t argue. There was no point. Katara was right.
When the guards were gone, Katara set to work on healing the cut on Zuko’s arm. First she found a pitcher of water, then ripped the bottom part of the sleeve off.
“Hey!” Zuko protested. “I liked this shirt.”
“So, get another,” Katara huffed as she examined the wound. It went alarmingly deep. “What happened?”
“That guy tried to kill me,” Zuko explained with a shrug. “Beyond that, I have no details.” Katara paused in her work and frowned up at her friend.
“You’re awful calm about this,” she said disapprovingly. Zuko shrugged again. “Stop moving.”
“It’s not the first attempt on my life.”
“ What ?” Katara let the water fall from her hand and stared up at Zuko. “What do you mean it’s not the first attempt?”
“Zuko!” Iroh burst into the room, chest heaving from the run from his chambers to Zuko’s office.
“I’m alright, Uncle!” Katara only just managed to get out of the way before the aging general threw his arms around his nephew.
“Katara’s healing you,” Iroh noticed. He frowned in consternation and looked Zuko over with a critical eye. “Are you hurt?”
“It was just a scratch,” Zuko insisted, pulling away from his uncle.
“That was more than a scratch,” Katara said. “It was almost to the bone. You’re lucky you didn’t lose that arm.”
“What happened?" Iroh demanded.
"What do you think?" Zuko's adrenaline high was fading, leaving him exhausted and snappish. He wanted to go to bed, but in a bit of irony that didn't escape him, the very two people who had been insisting that he needed rest were now keeping him from bed.
“He was attacked,” Katara explained. “Someone tried to assassinate him. And apparently this wasn’t the first time." Katara turned her sharp gaze on Iroh. Zuko was amused to see the older man wince under her gaze. “So? What’s going on? Why didn’t anyone mention it before?”
“Well,” Iroh stammered. “Well, we didn’t want to worry you. After all, you’ve just begun a very stressful job.”
“Oh!” Katara laughed humorlessly. “You didn’t want to worry me. Well, I've got news for you.”
“I understand that you’re worried,” Iroh started.
“I’m not worried,” Katara cut in. “Zuko’s fine for now. I’m past worried. I’m at angry. How could you two not tell me about this?” Zuko and Iroh shrank away from the furious waterbender. She seemed to tower over them.
“We had it under control!” Zuko insisted. Katara snorted and waved at his sleeveless arm.
“Clearly!” she scoffed. Katara pressed her fingers into her eyes until stars exploded behind her eyelids. “Look, it’s late. We should all go to bed. But we are absolutely talking about this later.”
“I’ll make sure there are extra guards outside of your door,” Iroh told his nephew. Zuko was going to tell him not to bother, that no one would be dumb enough to make another attempt with the palace on high alert. But the thought of an argument sent a wave of fatigue through him that nearly swept him off of his feet.
“Fine,” he mumbled. He began to follow Iroh out of the room, expecting Katara to head out, too. Instead she was by an overturned chair, staring at the floor.
“Someone will come into straighten up,” Zuko told her. Katara looked up, jarred, it seemed, out of deep thought.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I was just wondering-” she bent down and picked up something shiny from beneath the chair- “I don’t think I’ve seen a coin like this before. Is it Fire Nation money?” Zuko and Iroh leaned towards her outstretched hand. In her palm was a silver coin with a flower engraved on it and a small hole near the edge.
“That’s not any currency I’ve seen,” Zuko said, shaking his head. Iroh took the coin from Katara and inspected it closer.
“That flower looks like a bird’s foot peony.” He tugged at his beard with a frown. “Interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” Zuko asked. “It’s just a coin.”
“But you said you’ve never seen it before,” Katara pointed out.
“So?” Zuko wasn’t sure if his confusion was all exhaustion, but he was having a hard time following Katara’s line of questioning. Iroh seemed to have no trouble understanding her, though.
“It’s not a Fire Nation coin,” he mused. “And it’s not any world currency that I’ve seen. So it had to be custom made.”
“That means, it’s not a coin for spending,” Katara concluded. “It’s a token. Like your lotus tile, Iroh.” Iroh nodded gravely.
“You think it’s the assassins?” Zuko asked. Katara nodded.
“Most likely,” she said. “See that hole there? He could have been wearing it on his neck.”
“O~kay.” Zuko was still not following. “What’s it mean?”
“Maybe nothing,” Katara told him. “But it’s weird that an assassin would take the time to put on dark clothes and a mask, but not take off his jewelry.” Iroh handed Katara the coin and smiled tersely at the two.
“Keen observation, Your Excellency,” he said. “I’ll be sure the man is questioned thoroughly about it.”
“So you do think it’s important?” Katara asked.
“As you say,” Iroh replied. “It could be nothing. But it is interesting that this particular flower is on the coin. You see, the bird’s foot peony means revenge in the ancient language of flowers. And I don’t believe in coincidences."
-:-:-:-:-:-
Zuko was surprised to find Katara awake and already in the private garden when he woke up just after sunrise. She was knee deep in the pond going through her bending forms when Zuko arrived about an hour after sunrise. Zuko got the impression that she had been there a while.
"I didn't expect to see you so early," Katara commented without breaking her flow.
"I could say the same thing." Zuko sat on a rock, folding his legs beneath him. "I don't think I have ever seen you up this early."
"Don't exaggerate!" Katara found just enough time to shoot Zuko an exasperated look before her next move turned her back to him. "Have you come to spar with me?"
"You still want to spar?"
"Well, I figured you would be sleeping in today, so I didn't want to push," Katara told him. "But I'm up for it if you are." Zuko did consider it for a moment, but shook his head.
"I have a hard time sleeping in," he told her, "but I'm still pretty tired." Katara let the water she had been bending fall into the pond and went over to where Zuko stood under a tree. She tugged his arm and motioned for him to sit with her.
"Your arm bothering you?" she asked. Zuko reached up to where the cut had been hours before and met smooth unblemished skin. He shook his head.
"You did a great job with it," he told her. "It doesn't even hurt."
"You lost a lot of blood," Katara said thoughtfully. "Maybe you should still be in bed." Zuko made a face at that.
"I've been hurt worse than that," he said. Katara's eyes darted towards his chest for a moment. She thought about arguing the point, but it wouldn't help anything.
"You should at least eat," she mumbled instead. Zuko nodded.
"Uncle and I usually have breakfast around now," he said. "Can you join us? Or do you have work to do?"
"I cleared my schedule to help with your project," Katara told him. "I don't have any meetings for the next two days."
"Then we should eat first," Zuko said, climbing to his feet. "I may not sleep regularly, but I never skip meals." Katara reached up and grabbed Zuko's hand.
"How many times has someone tried to kill you?" she asked. Zuko blinked in either confusion or guilt.
"I…uh… a few times," he stammered.
" How many," Katara insisted. Her grip on his hand tightened. Zuko sank back onto the grass beside her
"This would be the third or fourth try," he confessed. Katara gasped.
"Since I've been here?"
"No," Zuko answered quickly. "It's been over a year since anyone has tried anything. I thought it had stopped."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Katara still hadn't let his hand go, as if she thought that she could retroactively protect Zuko from the other attacks. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You were all busy." Zuko's voice sounded small. With his hair falling in his face, he reminded Katara of one of the students at the water bending school back home.
" We're your friends," Katara reminded him. "We would have dropped everything if we knew about this. Don't you know how important you are to us?" Zuko lowered his gaze to their intertwined hands and absently ran his thumb over her knuckles.
“Katara, I-”
“Lord Zuko!” Zuko leapt to his feet in an instant. Iroh hurried down the stairs into the garden and ran towards the pair.
“Iroh, what’s going on?” Katara asked. She stood behind Zuko and watched Iroh worriedly. The older man’s chest heaved from the effort of his run.
“The assassin is dead,” he said. He rested his hands on his knees and pulled in deep breaths.
“He’s dead?” Zuko repeated. “How?”
“Murdered,” Iroh told him. Zuko exchanged a glance with Katara.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
The body hadn’t yet been cleared when Iroh led Zuko and Katara to the cell where he had been held. He was laid out on the cot- the lone piece of furniture in the room. His dark clothes didn’t show any bloodspill, but his throat had been sliced open. It gaped like a second mouth, frozen in it’s last cry.
The three stood grimly in the far corner of the cell, while Captain Xei pulled the sheet off of the dead man’s face. He had sent for attendants from the morgue, but no one was there so early in the morning. Zuko glanced over at Katara, and noticed her sharp eyes darting all over the cell, inspecting every inch of it, he figured.
“Who did it?” Katara asked. Lieutenant Xei shook his head.
“No one saw anything.” He tugged at his beard agitatedly. “Whoever did it managed to slip past our guards, kill this man, and slip out without notice.” Zuko snorted at that.
“I’m sure,” he grumbled. “Did anyone manage to find out who he was?”
“I’m afraid not,” Xei said with an apologetic bob of his head. “He was to be interrogated this morning, but I found him dead when I got here.”
“The Fire Lord ordered him to be interrogated as soon as he woke,” Katara said. “He must have been awake when he was killed. Wasn’t there anyone watching him? Why weren’t you notified when he woke?” Xei flinched and bobbed his head again, this time at Katara.
“There was a guard,” he assured her. “But he was out cold when I got here. I had a hard time getting him up. I suspect he was drugged.”
“How do you figure he was awake?” Zuko asked. Katara pointed to a pool of drying blood by the bars of the cell.
“He died over there,” she said. She turned back to Xei. “You didn’t leave him there when you brought him down, did you?” Xei shook his head.
“No, Your Excellency,” he replied. “He was put on the cot.” Katara walked over to the cot and leaned over the body for a closer inspection.
“So he woke up,” she murmured. “Went over to the bars for some reason. Then, when his back was turned, someone reached in and cut his throat. It’s possible he saw his killer, and probably talked to them before he died.”
“But why?” Iroh asked. Katara looked over at him archly.
“Dead men tell no tales.”
“What does that mean?” Zuko demanded. Katara put one fist on her hip and bit on her other thumbnail thoughtfully.
“It means that whoever killed him is probably involved in the assassination attempt,” she told him. She pointed at the cot. “He was killed to keep him quiet.”
“Are you sure?" Iroh looked around the cell with his eyes slightly narrowed.
“Well, until we find the killer, it's impossible to be sure about anything,” Katara admitted. “But it's the scenario that makes the most sense.
“That’s true,”Zuko murmured. “If it was a matter of someone getting revenge for me, the man was going to stand trial and would probably have been executed anyway. It wouldn’t make sense to risk killing him.” Katara turned Xei, startling the guard as her long braid nearly caught him in the eye.
“What time is it now?” she asked. Xei pulled a pocket watch out of his uniform.
“Just before 8, ma’am,” he told her. Katara leaned over the body again, pulling at the eyelids and jaw.
“And when did you find him?”
“A little over an hour ago.” Xei craned his head to look over Katara’s shoulder while trying to keep a respectful distance from her. Katara ran her fingers lightly over the assassin’s hands which were folded over his midsection.
“Do you remember when you last saw him alive?” Katara asked. Xei cast a mystified glance back Zuko and Iroh, but they looked as lost as Xei felt.
“It was just after we brought him in,” Xei replied. “That would have been just after one in the morning, I believe. Maybe one thirty at the latest.” Katara picked up one of the man’s arms. His hand stayed curled in its previous position, but the rest of his arm moved with minimal force from Katara.
“What are you doing?” Zuko came up beside her and Katara glanced up at him.
“Bit of a healer’s trick,” Katara explained. “While I was in the Foggy Swamp, one of the healers, Mii, told me how she was able to work out how long someone had been dead. When a person dies, their body becomes stiff because the blood isn’t flowing in them anymore. It takes a few hours, and you can guess how long a person has been dead by how stiff they are.”
“Ingenious,” Iroh breathed. “I knew about the stiffening of corpses, of course. But I don’t know of anyone using it to figure out the time of death.” Katara hmm in response and lay the arm back down.
“I’d guess this guy’s been dead no more than two or three hours, but let’s say he died sometime between three and five this morning. That’s a four hour window. ”
“I can get a list of who was on duty,” Xei volunteered. Three sets of eyes turned towards him at once, and Xei’s face reddened. “That-that is...It would have to be a guard, right? No one else had access.”
“Very true,” Iroh said. Zuko’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Xei.
“But how do we know it wasn’t you?” he asked. The blood left Xei’s face, leaving him almost as pale as the corpse on the cot.
“M-me!” he yelped. “No, your majesty, I swear it wasn’t me.” Katara stood up and put herself between Zuko and Xei.
“We still need to be careful,” she told Xei placatingly. “As you said, whoever killed this man had to be a guard. Can you tell us where you were between three and five?”
“I was home,” Xei said firmly. “I left just after two.” He turned to Zuko and Iroh apologetically. “I know I should have stayed until he woke, but I had worked a double shift, and I needed rest. I live not far from here with my parents.”
“Can your parents confirm when you got in?” Katara pressed, cutting Zuko off before he could scold Xei for leaving his post.
“No, they were asleep,” Xei admitted. But he perked up a second later. “But someone can confirm when I left. I stopped by the kitchen on the way out. My mother’s been sick, so the chef sent me home with some soup. One of the night staff was there to give it to me on my way out. Ask him. He’ll vouch for me.”
“We will,” Katara assured him not unkindly. “In the meantime, we’d appreciate that list of who was on duty.” Xei saluted and hurried off to his task. Zuko scowled after as he left.
“I don’t trust that guy,” he muttered. Katara raised an eyebrow at him.
“Why? I think he was telling the truth.”
“Why would he leave him here before he woke?” Zuko demanded. “I asked that he be interrogated as soon as he woke up.”
“He needed sleep, Nephew,” Iroh said gently. He furrowed his brows and nodded towards Zuko. “He’s not the only one.”
“But now the only lead we had is dead.” Zuko gestured angrily at the body.
“That does suck,” Katara agreed. “But Iroh’s right. We can’t blame Xei for needing rest. Besides, whoever killed this guy was probably pretty motivated. Even if Xei had been here, he might not have been able to stop it.” Zuko huffed and shook his head, but Katara and Iroh were probably right, he had to admit. But not out loud.
“What makes you so sure we can trust Xei?” He watched Katara. She wasn’t done poking around yet, and he wanted to know what she saw that they hadn’t.
“His heart,” she said simply. “I’m not as good at lie detecting as Toph, but if I concentrate, I can feel people’s heart rates. It works better if I can touch the person.” There was a brief flash of emotion across Katara’s face, and Zuko nodded in understanding. Katara’s relationship with this particular part of her waterbending was still complicated.
“Okay, fine,” he huffed. “I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.” Katara smiled gratefully, and Zuko felt his throat clench. He cleared it a few times and turned his attention back to the body. “Are we done here?”
“I guess so,” Katara said. “They’ll be here for his body any minute.” She looked at her hands and found the coagulated remains of the dead man’s blood. Her mouth twisted into a distasteful grimace, but the only source of water was a stagnant jar of dingy wash water in the corner. Katara wasn't sure if that would be preferable to the blood.
“Go on and wash up,” Iroh told her. “I want to speak to the Lieutenant briefly about keeping this to ourselves. I’ll have breakfast served in Zuko’s study.”
“As if we could eat.” Zuko made a face at the thought. Iroh shrugged.
“I’m sure our appetites will come back once we’re in a more inviting setting.”
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Iroh was proven right. By the time Katara had washed and changed, her stomach reassured her that her foray into medical examination hadn't done any permanent harm to her appetite. Zuko seemed fine, too. Or so Katara gathered from the plate of sausage and eggs he was busy with when she got to his study.
"Sorry I didn't wait," he said. Katara waved him off and fixed herself a bowl of congee with meat and vegetables.
"Don't worry." She took the seat across from him and looked around. "Where's Iroh?"
"I'm not sure," Zuko said. “Probably talking with Lieutenant Xei.” Zuko sighed and pressed his fingers to his eyes. Katara set down her congee and watched her friend.
“How are you doing?” she asked him. Her brow was creased with worry.
“I’m fine.” Zuko twitched his lips into what may have been a smile. “Honestly, I’m just... tired.” Zuko felt the sting of tears, and brought his hands to his face. It wasn’t a lie, he was tired. Very tired. He heard the scrape of Katara’s chair across the floor, and then he was pulled into a tight hug. He resisted, but only a moment before he buried his face in the crook of Katara’s neck and wrapped his arms around her. He wasn’t crying, but his breath came out in short pained gasps.
“It’s alright,” Katara said soothingly. One of her hands found its way into Zuko’s hair, now grown out and hanging loose at his shoulders. The other clutched the fabric at the back of his shirt.
“Everyone hates me.” Zuko’s voice was muffled by her hair, but Katara heard him. “I’m doing my best, but everyone still hates me. They want me to be my father.”
“Everyone doesn’t hate you!” Katara pulled back just enough to look Zuko in the eye. “Iroh doesn’t hate you. Aang and Toph and Suki and Sokka don’t hate you. I don’t hate you.” Zuko ducked his head, shaking it slowly.
“It’s not the same,” he protested. “I know you all don’t hate me, but my people-”
“ They don’t hate you either,” Katara promised him. “I’ve heard your people speak, and they love you. They hated your father because he took their children and sacrificed them for a war that none of them believed in anymore. Things aren’t perfect, but they know you’re doing your best.”
“Then why-?” Zuko swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. Katara leaned forward and rested her forehead against Zuko’s, forcing him to look her in the eye.
“Whoever’s behind this, they don’t speak for your people,” she told him. “And we will find out who’s behind this. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Zuko chuckled mirthlessly, but Katara noted, at least he was breathing normally again.
“You can’t promise that,” he whispered. Katara brought her hand up to rest just below Zuko’s heart. She could feel the rigged scar through his linen shirt. Then Zuko’s hand came up to rest over hers.
“I can,” she said firmly. “Trust me?” Zuko looked down at their hands, intertwined over his chest, and Katara followed his gaze. Suddenly, they were both aware of their position. Katara was nearly in Zuko’s lap, still locked in that close, comforting embrace, faces so close that they were breathing the same air. Their eyes met and seemed to show the same realization. All one of them had to do was lean forward ever so slightly, and…
“Lord Zuko! I have news!’ The door flew open and Iroh hurried in just in time to see the pair spring apart. “Oh…”
“Uncle!” Zuko leapt from his chair and nearly knocked the rest of his breakfast to the floor. Iroh entered the room and shut it quietly behind him. He was fighting a wide grin, but he managed to school it into a polite smile after a moment.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. Zuko let out a strangled gasp that sounded like he had swallowed his tongue.
“You didn’t!” he insisted. “We were just… we were having breakfast and-and talking!”
“I hope that you sharing a chair doesn’t mean there is something wrong with the others,” Iroh said, shooting a knowing look at Katara’s abandoned bowl.
“You said you had news, Iroh?” Katara reminded him. She was much more composed than Zuko, but her face had turned an impressive shade of russet, and the way she chewed nervously on her bottom lip told Zuko that she was just as rattled as he was.
Those could have been my teeth, if Uncle had waited another few minutes. The errant thought startled Zuko away from Katara’s mouth, and he turned his focus back to Iroh.
“Well, Lieutenant Xei found out the would be assassin’s identity,” Iroh told them. “I thought you would want to know, but perhaps I was mistaken about the need for haste?” He eyed Zuko and Katara curiously.
“Not necessary,” Katara snapped. She forced a smile and motioned to the other free chair. “Have you eaten?”
“Thank you, my dear.” Iroh fixed his plate and sat next to her. Zuko was back in his seat, and though neither of them was very hungry anymore, the food gave Katara and Zuko a ready excuse to not look at each other. For his part, Iroh really did try to hide his amusement. When he gathered himself, he told them his news.
“The assassin was a man named Vin Yimou,” he said. “Or rather, that was the name he was going by.”
“Going by?” Katara repeated. “That wasn’t his real name?”
“Well, now we’re not sure,” Iroh told her. “That is Lieutenant Xei and I. He was identified by a guard who had arrested him before. But aside from that arrest record, there isn’t much information on him. It seems he just appeared out of nowhere a few months ago, but Xei is digging around.”
“So my assassin was just some grifter?” Zuko’s face twisted in displeasure.
“The market for assassins is pretty small,” Katara shrugged. “I guess you take what you can get.”
“Hmm,” Iroh mused. “I suppose that’s true.” Iroh sighed and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Zuko asked. He turned to watch Iroh leave.
“I’m going to see if I can be of assistance to the lieutenant,” Iroh told him. He flashed Zuko and Katara an impish grin. “And besides, I’m sure you two don’t want me around. You’ll want to finish your...ah… talk.”
“ Uncle !” Zuko’s face had flushed a deep magenta. Katara had her face buried in her hands, but Iroh was sure she was almost as red.
“Don’t forget you have a meeting with your advisors soon. Good-bye my dears."
Zuko met Katara’s eye and looked away almost immediately. He cleared his throat and tried again.
“I should get ready for that meeting,” he said. Katara nodded her head in agreement. The best way forward for now was denial. She piled their plated on an empty tray and followed Zuko.
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Actually, I was going to ask you to sit in.” Katara blinked in surprise.
“Oh?”
“It’s a foreign policy meeting,” Zuko explained. “I thought it’d be helpful if you joined us. That way I don’t have to catch you up on all the information later.” Katara hesitated. After all, as far as she knew no foreigner had ever been allowed to sit in on an advisor’s meeting.
“Sure,” she said. “Will it be a problem that I’m there?” Zuko shook his head uncertainly.
“I don’t think so. I mean, my advisors know that you’ve been helping me.”
“Alright then,” Katara agreed. Zuko smiled in relief and began to lead the way out when Katara caught his arm.
“What is it?” he asked. Katara smirked and pointed at his head. His hair stood up at odd angles all over his head.
“I know you’re a bit less traditional than the old fire lords,” Katara laughed, “but I'm not sure your advisors are ready to see you with such an...unorthodox style.” Groaning, Zuko swept his hair up into a hasty top knot. He scanned the room frantically for his crown, only to find Katara holding it with a wry smile on her face.
“Thanks,” he muttered. He jabbed the pin through the hair and crown, then grabbed Katara’s hand and pulled her through the palace.
“Zuko, slow down!” Katara chided.
“Can’t,” he said. “I’m going to be late for the third time in a row.”
“The fire lord is never late,” Katara told him. “Everyone else is just early.” That bit of wisdom aside, Zuko kept their pace up. They hurried to the east wing just in time to see the last of the advisors filing into the conference room. Katara was pleased to realize that she recognized at least three of them. One man named Midori stood out because he was the only noble that Katara had seen with a tattoo- a sort of flowery shape she had meant to ask about. One man, Lord Huan, was a quiet man she had met a few times at formal gatherings. He was an amateur botanist, he had told Katara at one of those gatherings. His estate supplied flowers for the most upscale florist in Caldera, the same one which created the arrangements for all of the palace events. The last advisor, a stern looking man named Wei, stopped when he saw Zuko arrive with Katara in tow.
“Lord Zuko,” he greeted the younger man. His gaze flickered towards Katara, and he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. “I heard about the intruder this morning. I’m glad to see you’re well.”
“Thank you, Lord Wei.” Zuko nodded to Wei. An even shallower move than Wei gave Katara. “Is everyone here?” Wei arched on delicate eyebrow.
“Yes, your majesty. We’re all here.” There was something in his tone that set Katara’s teeth on edge. She schooled her face into a mask of calm and smiled blythely at Wei.
“It’s nice to see you again, Lord Wei,” she said. “I hope we didn’t hold the meeting up too long.” That broke through Wei’s stoic facade.
“We?” he repeated in confusion.
“I asked Master Katara to sit in on this meeting,” Zuko explained. “She’s helping me with the reparations project, and I thought it would be better to have her sit in on this meeting.” A brief, but intense flash of rage crossed Wei’s face as he looked at Katara once more. He gathered himself a split second later, but both Zuko and Katara had seen it. Katara felt the sharp spike in temperature from Zuko.
“I apologize, my lord,” Wei said with another deep bow. “I have to advise against allowing the ambassador to sit in. It may stir discontent with the Earth Kingdom ambassadors."
"Master Katara is here in an advisory role," Zuko told him. "She's not here as ambassador." Wei's mouth tightened as he tried to keep a bland smile on his face.
"Forgive me my lord, but I can't say that would be any better." Zuko balked at that. He drew himself up to his full height and glared at Wei.
"I was under the impression that it was my prerogative who sits on my council. Master Katara frankly has more insight into the extent of the damages caused in the 100 Years War than anyone in this meeting."
"My lord, while I'm certain the ambassador has many valuable...talents-" Wei cast Katara a blatant sneer "- I don't think the council meeting is the place for them." Zuko bristled angrily. For a moment, Katara saw the same boy she had fought in the Spirit Oasis all those years ago.
"You listen to me, Lord Wei-" Katara knew she had to act quickly before Wei found himself on the receiving end of a fire whip.
"It's fine, your majesty," she cut in, bowing her head. When she straightened, her eyes were narrowed at Wei. Despite being the shortest of the three, she gave the impression of looking down her nose at the advisor. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of a distraction among your advisors."
"I thank you for your concession, Master Katara." Wei bowed once more, lower this time and clearly meant condescendingly. "Your majesty, we are late."
Zuko glared after Wei as he entered the conference room. He started after him, his shoulders up around his ears and jaw clenched tightly. Katara caught his hand and pulled him back from the door.
"Don't go in there angry," she whispered. Zuko huffed and gestured wildly at the door.
"That guy is being such a jerk to you," he hissed. Katara put her hand on his cheek and made him look at her.
"The insult was to me ," she reminded him. Pulling a face, Zuko closed his hand around hers and brought it away.
"Well, you're my friend, and I invited you to this meeting, so I'm insulted, too."
"Losing your temper on them isn't going to change anything." Katara squeezed his hand. "I know you don't like it, and thank you for looking out for me. But this isn't a bunch of idiots on the streets. These are your advisors." Zuko frowned. Katara held her grip on his hand, so he couldn't turn away.
"So I just let them walk all over me?"
"I didn't say that," Katara said with a mischievous smirk. “You can’t go in there fists swinging to knocking heads. But don’t forget, you’re the Fire Lord. You can still knock heads, but you have to be diplomatic about it.”
“Diplomatic,” Zuko scoffed. “You mean sneaky.” Katara nodded slyly.
“You don’t answer to them,” she told him, jerking her head towards the door. “You serve your people, but you advisors? They answer to you.” Zuko drew his brow down uncertainly.
“So, what do you suggest I do?” Katara untangled her hand from Zuko’s and straightened out his robes.
“First of all,” she said, pulling at the shoulders of Zuko’s robes. “You don’t apologize for being late. This is your meeting. It starts when you say it does. Second, don’t apologize for inviting me. Don’t say anything about me coming today at all. Just let them know that you intend to exercise your right to invite anyone to these meetings that you want going forward.” Katara ran her hands over Zuko’s lapels. “You’re a good leader, Zuko. They want you to think you aren’t. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”
“Katara-” Zuko caught her arms, just above her elbows. Katara’s breath hitched in her throat and the hairs on her arm prickled as she met Zuko’s eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his lips moving as if he were going to speak, or...something.
A low murmuring spilled out into the hallway from the conference room. Down the hall, Zuko spotted a servant making her rounds, and he let go of Katara’s arms. But he didn’t back up right away.
“You should go find Uncle,” he told her. Katara’s brow furrowed.
“Why-?”
“Wei knew about the assassination attempt,” he said. “Uncle said we were going to keep that under wraps for now.” Understanding dawned on Katara, and she nodded sharply.
“Alright,” she agreed. Then she spun Zuko towards the conference room. “Now, go in there and diplomatically knock some heads.”