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Chapter Text

It was nearly dawn when Zuko found Aang by the cliff’s edge under the old plum tree. His staff planted firmly on the ground in one hand, his gaze set unwaveringly at the distant horizon – the young teenager stood so still and so firm that he looked more like an old stone statue rather than a light-footed airbender.

Next to him, the pink of the plum tree flowers gently swayed in the wind, as the sky began lighting up with the rising sun.

Tucking his helmet under his arm, Zuko walked up to quietly stand by Aang’s left side so he could observe his friend with his good eye.

Even under the orange hue of the sunrise and the yellow of his air nomad clothing, Aang’s face seemed dark and weighted, like as if a shadow had passed over it. Without turning to look at Zuko, Aang acknowledged his presence by asking softly:

“Do you think what we’re doing is right?”

Zuko gazed out into the horizon. He just breathed for a moment, feeling the weight of his armour on his shoulders and the warmth of the fire in his breath rise and fall. Beyond him, he gazed out at the lower rings of Ba Sing Se – the city nothing but a messy labyrinth of lines and criss-crosses from this far distance.

How many times will destinies be made or broken at the doors of this city?

“I’m not sure. I’m not sure if starting war against the North Nationalists is the right thing to do.” Zuko admitted aloud. In the corner of his eye, Zuko saw Aang’s shoulder slump slightly as he let out a tiny sigh. He had been looking to me for advice and reassurance, Zuko realised.

Ignoring the feeling that he was probably the worst person to give advice on anything, Zuko hesitated slightly before continuing: “But you know, I do feel that this is the right thing to do. That it is the thing that justice requires us to do. History may prove me wrong – but if there’s anything I’ve learnt, it’s that I’d rather end up on the wrong side of history than on the wrong side of myself.”

 This made Aang lift his head and look at Zuko, his gaze still more serious and more troubled than Zuko was used to seeing in his young friend.

 “I don’t know how you can be so sure. On one hand, I feel like this is what is just to do – but on the other, it just feels like using more senseless violence to deal with already senseless violence.” Aang said quietly. “Your values may tell you it is right – but my values still tell me it’s wrong. That any sort of use of violence is wrong.”

Zuko was quiet as he processed this for a bit. He gazed down at the city that was waking up – the sunlight pulling away the shadows like as if pulling a blanket sheet off a bed. Signs of life, no matter how tiny, were beginning to show – carriages trotting down the streets, the bell that sounded the start of the morning market tolling in the cool air – and of course, flags being raised across the city walls, bearing the logo of the newest ruler whose hands they had recently fallen into – the double crescent moons facing one another on the backdrop of three streaks of dark navy blue.

At the sign of the flags, Zuko felt a spark of anger ignite in his chest, his resolute rising to a new high.

Narrowing his eyes, he placed a firm hand on the young avatar’s shoulder. “Aang. I don’t think there is time for any more hesitation. It is time we start our counter-siege to free Ba Sing Se.”

Aang closed his eyes, drawing in the finality of Zuko’s words and nodded.

He caught Zuko off-guard by giving him a quick hug, before snapping his glider open and taking off into the horizon.

Gazing out at Aang’s retreating figure against the rising sun, Zuko dearly hoped that he was right.

Chapter Text

Six months ago

“Oh noooo, it’s pirate Kiyi! How on earth did you find me?”

Zuko leapt up from his feet as Kiyi started running in his direction, giggling as she lunged toward him with a make-belief pirate-sword (made of what Zuko had convinced Kiyi was the most efficient weapon material: old newspaper).

Complete with a handkerchief that Zuko had wrapped around her head as a cap, Zuko thought his little 8-year-old half-sister was the cutest image of a pirate he had ever seen.

The lizard-parrot doll she had wrapped around her back of course, did help contribute to that.

“How in the spirit’s names did you find me, Kiyi?”

“I… got a ... mole-bear to follow your scent and track you down!”

Zuko had to stifle a laugh at that - clearly his younger sister had been taking quite some creative liberty in reworking the stories he had told her.

 “Hey no fair, you have longer legs!” Kiyi yelled, as Zuko easily outran her. “Come back!”

“Well, you gotta run for it then! Use your pirate speed!” Zuko called back teasingly. He glanced aside at where Ursa was watching underneath the shade of the sheltered corridor, flashing her a quick smile of amusement.

Even though she returned his smile, Zuko thought that his mother’s eyes contained still a hint of sadness.

His own grin faded a bit too at this, a familiar sense of uneasiness jolting into his chest.

Not that he was going to let Kiyi see that was how he felt though.

“Okay Kiyi, I’m sleepy now. I’m gonna lie down and get some rest/” Zuko halted at the willow tree by the pond, pretending to yawn and peer into the wrong direction, letting the giggling Kiyi run up to catch up with him.

This, Zuko noted with a twinge of bitterness himself, was a prank that Azula used to play on him too when they were kids – pretend that she was tired to let her slower brother catch up to her – only to  pounce back on him with something awful like properly hard pebbles and stones, or fistful of fires.

Luckily there were no such violent tendencies when Kiyi leapt up at him, hugging his legs and yelling “Gotcha Zuzu!”

Of course, her small weight was nothing to Zuko(master of double swords and secret part-time vigilante) but Zuko gave Kiyi the satisfaction of falling to the ground, groaning: “Oh no, pirate Kiyi has caught me now… though not for long!”

Zuko turned around and tickled Kiyi, making her laugh enough to fall off him, before they both lay there, laughing in the grass at the end of a simple game of pirate and thief, as the white clouds floated by above their heads in a baby blue sky.

In the corner of his eye, Zuko saw his mother’s shoulders relax and for the first time, a small smile across her face.

It was small but at least it looked genuine this time.

Though Kiyi had pleaded for Zuko to join her, Ursa and Ikem for dinner, Zuko had gently refused, citing a late-night meeting for his reason for skipping family dinner once again.

The late-night meeting hadn’t been a lie – it was true, he did have to convene with his council for foreign affairs later that night – but it would also be a lie to say that it was the whole reason for skipping dinner with his family…

Uncle would tell me to be honest at least to myself. Zuko reminded himself as he strode through the palace halls toward his chambers to get changed for the meeting.

Out of habit, he turned his good eye to gaze upon the line of former fire lord portraits lining the corridor. Through forced learned behaviour, he firmly turned his gaze down to the ground right before he got to his father’s portrait.

All this has been… a bit of an adjustment. Zuko admitted to himself, letting out a sigh he hadn’t even realised he had been holding in.

It has been three years since becoming Fire Lord, two weeks since Ursa’s return to the place and well…

Calling it a bit of an adjustment was an understatement.

Zuko could not remember the last time he had spent time with his blood parents and siblings without feeling intense fear, distrust and stress.  

Let alone learning to become a responsible and healthy son to a mother he had just assumed had been dead for the last few years.

Out of his newly reinstated family, Kiyi was probably the easiest to get used to having around. Bubbly, spirited and bright, also blissfully unaware of Zuko’s past, the little girl took a liking to Zuko almost right away, Ikem teasingly calling her Zuko’s “little shadow”.

When Zuko was not working (being fire lord kind of was a full-time ordeal), Kiyi was always eagerly seeking him out, asking him: can we play pirates, Zuzu? Can we see how high we can throw these fire flake-pies up the palace wall? Can you teach me how to firebend, Zuzu?

The name ‘Zuzu’ had at first sent chills down Zuko’s spine when Kiyi first used it – but after a while, it was just impossible to think of Azula’s chilling smirk when the name was used instead by a little girl with a cheery smile who still sometimes forgot how to tie her shoelaces.

Being the only child in a large palace could be lonely, goodness knows Zuko knew how that felt like, and so he felt too a responsibility to spend time with Kiyi as the person probably closest in age to her.

Besides, he enjoyed it, and was almost surprised by the protectiveness and unconditional love that he had naturally grown to feel for his little half-sister. In fact, it never failed to bring a smile to his face whenever Kiyi just barged into his chambers or throne room to enthusiastically ask for Zuko to pleaseeee play with her, or show him the newsest autumn leaf she had found, or new handstand trick she could do. (Though Ikem had since then given the girl a gentle scolding on how one knocks before entering the Fire Lord’s chambers.)

Speaking of Ikem - he too was pleasant around to have around. Zuko had been afraid at first that Ikem would be resentful of this new life that he had been dragged into and had tried to show nothing but the upmost respect for his step-father - but the man had seemed almost surprised by Zuko’s formalities and had since shown nothing but genuine pleasantness toward Zuko. Zuko had been too busy with work to talk much to him otherwise – and Ikem too seemed to respectfully keep his distance.

Then, there was Ursa.

His mother, who he had as a child spent days crying and begging his father to see again for.

His mother, who he as a teenager, had spent countless lost nights lying awake, having imaginary conversations with her.

He still remembered, with an ache, how those one-sided half-dreamt up conversations went:

Hi Mum, how are you doing? It’s your son here Zuko. I miss you. When are you coming home?

Mum. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all I’m done. I don’t know if you would still want to speak to me if you saw me today. I wonder what you would think of me now: the scarred, banished prince.

Hey Mum, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve talked to you. The avatar sure is one slippery eel-hound.  

Hi Mum, I wish you were here with me and Uncle Iroh now, I think you would have liked the Jasmine Dragon.

Mum, I take the throne as Fire Lord today. What do you think? What would you say? I wish you were here.

Zuko paused at the threshold to his chambers, an unexpected wave of sadness rising in his chest.

And now his mother was here, in actual, physical person…

…and they had barely talked since Kiyi’s kidnapping and return.

Uncle Iroh had been around in the first week to help Ursa settle down in palace life – and that seemed to have helped, having another adult around for Ursa to speak to.

Ursa had seemed frightened, out of place, jumpy in the first few days in a way that Zuko could understood and related to, but didn’t know quite how to approach to help.

Somehow, the parent-child roles felt somewhat reversed – once, Ursa was mother of a crown prince gaining his footing in the palace; now she was mother of the Fire Lord, who had grown and changed in her absence over the last 7 years.

How does one begin explaining 7 years of history?

How does one begin explaining 7 years of history to a former ghost?

Walking into his chambers, Zuko saw that the servants had left out his formal robes and royal hairpin on his bed for him to change into for the council meeting. A standing mirror stood thoughtfully wheeled out on the side of the bed. On busy days, the servants helped with the dressing; but the servants knew well by now that Zuko preferred doing the dressing by himself.

After Kiyi’s return, Ursa seemed to let go of a breath she had been holding onto – and so did Zuko.

But there was still something remaining – remnants of fear, shame, guilt and sadness that seemed to cross her face whenever she looked at Zuko. Conversations they had were reduced to polite exchanges brought together by their shared time with Kiyi: short ‘have you eaten yet?’s and ‘Kiyi is getting so tall!’ which were painfully awkward even by Zuko’s low social standards.

Zuko looked into the standing mirror and found himself staring at an increasingly striking image of his father.

Is this why Mum can’t quite look me in the eye anymore?

Quietly, Zuko took off the casual tunic he had been wearing, dusting off the grass he had picked up from his chase with Kiyi and folding it into a neat pile on his bed. (It was less work for his servants that way).

Pulling on his formal robes, Zuko turned to look in the mirror to see where the more intricate sashes were to be tied together.

He paused for a moment to touch two fingers against the scar on his chest, left by his other sister who since her escape from prison, whereabouts of which still remained unknown…

… and tightened his robe around his chest, hiding away the scar left by the blue lightning.

After many months of being lectured by old-fashioned generals and ministers about the importance of traditional royal attire (specifically, calling out his lack of knowledge regarding this important traditional royal attire, which showed through knots tied in the wrong styles, missing buttons or brooches, wrist sashes slung too high or too low), Zuko had learnt to double check that the formal robe was on right by examining himself in two rounds in front of the mirror.

Satisfied that he had gotten the robe right this time, Zuko pulled on his wrist cufflings, before glancing over at his shoulder pads and cloak, sitting in their heavy and chunky form on his dresser.

Zuko considered it for a moment, before deciding that surely a late evening indoor meeting could do without shoulder pad formalities.

Just like everything else involved in being a young Fire Lord, palace attire felt far more complicated than what it surely should have been.

One thing remaining - Zuko picked up his comb and began combing back his messy hair.

He pulled the longer strands of his hair up together into a bun and in an experienced turn of his wrist, tied the bun together with a black ribbon.

A strand remained lying just over his scar.

Gently, he pulled the strand of hair up and tucked it into place in the bun.

Lifting the royal crown hairpin, he pushed it firmly into his hair bun.

In his mirror, the image of a perfectly attired Fire Lord stood, staring back at Zuko.

Zuko didn’t feel like he knew this strange man in the mirror.

 “Nice to see you, Fire Lord Zuko. Once again, I see you have taken liberties with the traditions of our national royal attire.”

“Good to see you too, General Chuan. And what exactly do you mean?”

“I see you have chosen, for no good apparent reason, to not wear your shoulder pads today.”

“Oh that.” Zuko managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he returned the old general’s bow. (A bow low enough to be respectful, but not lower than General Chuan’s bow, since he was the Fire Lord and tradition dictated that everyone should bow lower than the Fire Lord did.)

(Urgh, traditions.)

“I thought shoulder pads may not be necessary given our indoor location today.”

Honestly, Zuko should have expected this from General Chuan.

An experienced general in his late fifties with whitening hair and a grey beard, General Chuan seemed to enjoy turning up early before council meetings just to throw dry comments at Zuko about his inability to keep to the tradition and pomp the General was so fond of.

At hearing Zuko’s lame excuse, General Chuan huffed and retorting sarcastically in return: “Oh right, I forget. The only function of the traditional shoulder pads are to collect rain water so your majesty’s royal shoulders don’t get wet. And since we’re indoors now, I expect your majesty believes that the palace roofs are well-built enough to not let in rain – and so there is no need to wear the shoulder pads, yes?”

The general also seemed extremely fond of dry, sharp-edged sarcasm.

“Well… I mean… that isn’t exactly what I was thinking of, but I guess you could put it that way, I mean roofs do keep out weather unpredictability...”

Chuan pounced on this immediately. “The shoulder pads are not to be treated like a common umbrella or raincoat!” He chided sternly. “They are a sign of respect! Your majesty should wear it the next time for any sort of meeting that involves meeting anyone you respect and honour.”

This time, Zuko couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Fortunately, the general was walking on his left side and his scarred eye couldn’t roll very far, which made his mumbled “yes, general” reply sound far less sarcastic.   

After Ozai’s downfall, many of the older generals around General Chuan’s age had been extremely unco-operative with the new young Fire Lord, furthermore unwilling to stop fighting a war they had spent their whole lives being convinced was the right stance to take. Zuko had had to remove many of his royal court, generals and advisers from high-ranking positions, given their continued alliance to Ozai, corruption, refusal to halt military actions, planned coups, or well, murder attempts on his life.

Amongst the many royal officials and generals, Chuan had been of the few who had stayed.

Zuko still felt that Chuan didn’t truly respect him (he was pretty sure Chuan never made sarcastic comments about Ozai’s royal attires).

But despite Zuko’s multiple grumblings about the old general, Iroh had insisted that Chuan was an honourable man who had values in the right place.

(“I’m sure he means to teach you well, my nephew, much like how I nag you about keeping warm and doing your meditations!” Uncle had added on cheerily as Zuko scowled. “Besides, I think he has a great sense of humour – his sarcastic comments about you are truly comedic genius!”)

As much as Zuko disagreed with Iroh’s view of Chuan, he had to admit that a general who nagged about traditional attire was the least of his worries amongst his foreign affairs council. As he entered the council room, both he and Chuan bowed in greeting (at different depths, as per tradition) to the other two generals in the room: General Au and General Tze.

“Good evening General Au, General Tze.”

“Good evening Fire Lord Zuko.”

Both the generals were older than Zuko, but in their late 30s, were younger than Chuan.

Somehow, Zuko suspected that both Au and Tze found it even harder to reconcile with the age gap than Chuan did.

Iroh had thoughtfully explained that it probably had to do with the fact that Au and Tze had had to work extremely hard to get promoted to generals at their young age and were used to being seen as ahead and talented in comparison to their peer group. As such, it was difficult for them to face taking orders from someone more than a decade younger than them, furthermore with far less military experience and title.  

Zuko on the other hand, thought Iroh was giving them too much credit. Zuko had just put it down to plain and simple arrogance – also, Au and Tze both reminded him a bit too much of General Zhao for his liking.

However, amongst the small pool of men willing to serve under Zuko, Au and Tze were still of the top contenders for the Foreign Affairs Council, being some of the few military who had been posted overseas long enough to qualify for advising the Fire Lord on foreign affairs.

And goodness knew Zuko sorely needed some good foreign affairs advice.

“Good evening Generals, thank you for meeting at this late hour.” Zuko took his place at the head of the table as the three generals sat on each edge of the table. The servants had laid out simple drinks by each seat under maroon table clothes, while the middle of the table was taken by a large world map. Behind where Zuko stood was a standing board he could draw upon with chalk, and a fireplace sat crackling lazily behind the board.

“As you no doubt know, tomorrow is the first meeting of the Joint Nations Council. Previously named the United Nations Council, before the avatar decided the Joint Nations was a better name.” Zuko paused slightly, recalling with some amusement at how annoyed Sokka had been that Aang had scrapped his ‘United Nations’ suggestion for the Northern water tribe’s “Joint Nations” suggestion.

“Our past three years of returning peace and harmony between the four nations has been fraught with difficulty and conflict. Firstly, returning independence to the fire nation colonies has been a tricky and delicate matter. Every colony is under different stages of decolonisation, and are returning to a mixture of different forms of sovereignty and political form -  some are to return to the Fire Nation, others to the Earth Kingdom, a few to form independent nations of their own. The Harmony Restoration Movement led by ourselves and the Earth Kingdom under the Avatar’s mediation is going well – but still requires constant monitoring and amendments to suit the special circumstances of each colony.”

“Next, the Earth Kingdom has become an increasingly a hectic place - it has split into various smaller rulers, with a growing power vacuum left for ambitious war lords to try and take advantage of since Earth King Kuei took his little leave of absence to travel the world.” Zuko’s eyes narrowed in disapproval at this.

Zuko gestured to the Earth Kingdom on the map with a wooden staff. “As a result, many refugees from the Earth Kingdom –from the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, from villages left desolate and poor from the war, from fire nation colonised areas, and from currently ongoing civil wars, in-fights and warlord conflicts - all alike, have been fleeing the Earth Kingdom in storms.”

He gestured to the nearby air temples and toward the islands that formed the Fire Nation. “Some have fled to the various air temples. Others have also fled into the fire nation. Whom we have welcomed with open arms.” Zuko added with a glare at Au, who too, glared back. The issue of whether to accept Earth Kingdom refugees had been a heavily contested issue between Zuko and Au for a while now - though that was a topic for another time.

“But abandoned air temples can be difficult for Earth Kingdom refugees to access; and many of the refugees still harbour deep resentment for the Fire Nation.” Zuko ignored the fact that he was sure Au mutter under his breath ungrateful bastards, and continued, moving his staff to outline a path from the Earth Kingdom to the Northern Water Tribe.

“As such, many have instead fled up north to the Northern Water Tribe, seeking refuge in their modern cities instead. Since it did survive attempts of Fire Nation invasion, many see it as the safer option to move in case of further wars.”

“That being said, not all Northern Water Tribe members are thrilled about this flood of refugees. Chief Arnook himself has been open to taking in reasonable amounts of refugees – but he has recently retired with no direct blood heir.” Zuko gazed slightly to his left at the moon shining in through the window.

“This left a worrying power vacuum for a few weeks – though it has been recently been filled by Nuniq, a military general who Chief Arnook had previously been training as an heir and protege. I have yet to meet Nuniq myself and I am unaware of his stance towards foreign matters or the refugee movements.”

“Finally, the Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko gestured toward the southern end of the map, “remains led by Chief Hakoda.” Almost subconsciously, his voice warmed at the mention of the only other world leader (asides from Aang) he could fairly say he respected at this point. “He is a fair and well-respected ruler, but his tribe was probably amongst the most affected during the war. And so, much of his time has been spent on the rebuilding and restrengthening of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“These are thus the key issues I believe will be discussed in the first Joint Nations Council meeting.” Zuko concluded.

Before Zuko could proceed to ask for thoughts, General Tze let out a bark of laughter. “Seriously, my lord? That’s all? If that’s all you think the council will discuss tomorrow, then you need to spend less time with your precious friends from the other nations, and more time in your own nation.”

Zuko felt a hot flush rush through to his cheeks. “What do you mean that’s all? Those are the key issues I know they will talk about.” He replied defensively.

He had a feeling the fireplace behind him had suddenly gotten a lot warmer – and actively reminded himself to keep his temper on a low.

“Yes, yes, these are the important key issues.” General Au said in a bored tone, with a careless wave of his arm. “But you are speaking of them like as if they are your issues, which they are not. You haven’t told us yet of how these issues impact the Fire Nation.”

“For example,” General Tze continued, “I can only imagine that because of all their individual internal issues, all three nations will want to demand more reparations and compensation from us. Which we have already provided plenty of. I believe it will be continually damaging to our nation if we keep giving out reparation money like as if it grows on trees.”

“Well, yes, of course I thought of the possibility of war reparation demands.” Zuko snapped. “We’ve promised to give reparations and we will continue to do so.”

“We did after all, give them lesser amounts of reparations than calculated as fair at the end of the war, in order to rebuild some of our own villages that had been affected by the war… with the promise that we would pay the rest of the amount after a few years.” Zuko reminded the Generals, though he was fairly certain they were unlikely to have forgotten that fact. The Reparations Negotiations was a monster of a project that had taken almost 2 years to settle- but had contributed to a lot of renewed sense of trust between the nations.

“In fact,” Zuko continued, “It was kind of them to give us that flexibility to pay the second half of the reparations later. We have promised to do so - and I would like to keep to our end of that bargain.”

General Tze snorted and General Au shook his head.

“Kind of them?” General Au huffed. “Lord Zuko, excuse me for my bluntness, but I think it is not them who is being too kind, but us. The money is sorely needed to rebuild our own nation, to help our citizens, yet you are the one who’s weak enough to just let the other nations bully you into giving our hard-earned money to rebuilding their people.”

He shook his head again, glaring up at Zuko. “What complete nonsense.”

Gritting his teeth, Zuko breathed evenly as he retorted back: “General Au, I was not bullied into giving reparations. I was the one who brought up the topic of reparations for the purpose of restoring peace and justice – we are wealthy in relative to most of the Earth Kingdom, and certainly the Southern Water Tribe, not to mention the Air Nomads whom we have obliterated, so why not…”

“But the air nomads aren’t here anymore are they? And the Northern Water Tribe are rich folk – they’re just taking advantage of your weakness.” General Tze snorted. “What will they want next – our military to deal with their own internal problems?”

Zuko, again, felt the back of his neck start to burn, and reminded himself to breath so the fire behind him could once again calm down into a fireplace-sized flame.

“Kindness is not weakness…” Zuko began, no longer able to contain the anger that had crept into his voice.

“Your father and grandfather would not have allowed for the Fire Nation to be bullied in such a way…” General Au muttered under his breath…

…and that was the very last straw, as the fire place roared in a sudden burst of hot flames and sparks of burning cinders, Zuko glaring and pushing the wooden staff he had been holding into General Au’s face, General Au himself glaring back like as if daring him to fight…

Before Zuko caught himself, forced himself to take a long deep breath, and drew back the staff slowly, still glaring at General Au.

And finally, firmly planting the wooden staff in the ground next to where he stood.

Breathe, my nephew, breathe.

Zuko stood quietly for a moment, letting his anger sit with him until the fireplace behind him quietened down again.

“Thank you for sharing your opinions, General Au.” Zuko nodded, reciting the words Iroh had drilled into him to deal with such exact situations. “I will take them into account.”

He turned around to the last general who had been sitting so quietly he could have forgotten he was there at all. “General Chuan, what do you think? You have been quiet since the very start.”

General Chuan stroked his beard thoughtfully.

He held onto the uneasy silence that had fallen across the room for a while, before saying carefully and slowly: “I think it is fair to pay reparations. We have been through the pains of that whole negotiation – I was there to attend some of those negotiations, and I believe a good deal was struck between the interests of the Fire Nation and the wants of other nations.”

Zuko nodded in agreement.

The negotiations had been with King Kuei, Chief Hakoda, Chief Arnook and Aang. Due in large part to the wisdom, experience and respectability of all the other rulers (with perhaps the exception of King Kuei who had been both simultaneously eager to raise unrealistic requests, while not having the spine to back them up), the negotiations had been undertaken with a heavy emphasis on shared respect and good faith. Supported by Aang’s private insight, Zuko felt that each nation had left with a fair portion of reparations to be given and received.

Next to General Chuan however, Zuko could see General Au and Tze begin to bristle.

General Chuan, thus tactifully, continued: “But I also think General Au and Tze have a point – we cannot let the other nations drag us into their internal affairs, especially with such precarious political situations in the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe. Not like we haven’t got enough precarious political situations ourselves here in the Fire Nation.” He huffed.

At this, Zuko’s face flushed red again, suddenly feeling exposed in the way General Chuan’s sarcasm tended to make him feel.

“Ultimately, we will need a balance of the interests – giving fair reparations as your Highness has mentioned, is important. But, as General Au and General Tze have correctly pointed out, it is also important that you stand firm on representing our interests tomorrow, Fire Lord Zuko.” At this, General Au and Tze calmed down, looking pleased to have their views affirmed by the older general.

Unexpectedly, General Chuan threw Zuko a smile. “Though if you ask me, I think you’re doing a perfectly fine job representing the Fire Nation’s interests and values already.”

Stunned by the unexpected praise, Zuko blinked in surprise and accidentally slipped on the wooden staff he had been leaning his arm on, stumbling and almost knocking down his own goblet of water with his elbow, before hastily regaining his balance and composure again.

Behind him, the fireplace spluttered for a moment too before regaining its regular tempo.

Somehow, this melted the tensions in the room, attracting a few soft chuckles around the room. As Zuko fumbled and hesitated on whether to stay on the same topic, or to move on to the next item on the agenda, his face still burning (did General Chuan just praise him?? Praise him?), General Chuan just laughed and leaned back in his seat before adding on good-humouredly:

“Anyway, while I’m on the topic of giving opinions, I think this Council Room can do without a fireplace. We’ve got enough lanterns and torches to light the place without such a fickle flame, don’t you think?”

And in this moment, Zuko finally saw what Iroh meant about General Chuan’s sense of humour - and couldn’t help as the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned upward into a grin, before bubbling up, to his own surprise, into a chuckle, and then helplessly, into a laugh.  

Chapter Text

Neutrality and peace.

Those were things that Aang already felt he was normally pretty good at.

Today though? He would have to practically ooze with neutrality and peace as not just Aang the Airbender - Pacifist and Friend of All; but as Aang the Avatar – Peace Lover, Friend of All and Global Conflict Resolver,

And everything had to be perfect.

Which was why, on paper, Aang was about to hold the first ever Joint Nations Council Meeting; when in reality, it was going to be the first ever Joint Nations Evening-Tea-Friendly-Chat-Session.

“The Evening Tea Friendly what?” Sokka practically spat his tea out. “Friendly what?”

“Friendly Chat Session.” Aang affirmed with a nod and a grin. “If we want to create true peace across the four nations, the first thing we need is true friendship across the four nations.”

And to Aang, it was what genuinely made sense.

Without Sokka and Katara to knock sense into him, he would have probably just spent a summer goofing around chasing elephant-kois before eventually being captured by the Fire Nation; without Toph, Aang highly doubted they would have found any Earth bender that came as close at being a bending master (and being a complete badass, Toph would have added casually with a smirk); and without Zuko –

“…well goodness knows how many more lives would have been lost to the war if the new Fire Lord hadn’t been friends with the Avatar.” Katara finished up, explaining in all earnestness to Sokka.

Sokka had continued staring at them, mouth agape, like as if they had both grown two antlers and a tail each.

“You want to turn peace talks into a let’s-all-be-friends, hugs-and-flowers session? What makes you think the snobby leaders of the world even want to be friends?”

Of course, that was what Katara and Aang had expected Sokka’s reaction to be like – which was why Katara and Aang had a plan.

“Well, I think they’d want to be friends if it could help improve inter-nation relations.” Aang beamed in return to Sokka. He cocked his head aside, pretending to be puzzled at Sokka’s reaction. “Why are you so surprised? I thought you loved out-of-the-box ideas!”

“Well, look.” Sokka had said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m usually all for wacky ideas. But this one? This is a bit too far into wackerino zone for even me! Me! The Ideas Guy!”

“Well, it is a little wacky.” Aang admitted. Of course it’s wacky, I’m the guy who came up with it and even I’m not even sure if it’ll work. “But aren’t you sort of the Idea Guy who makes wacky ideas work, Sokka?”

“Yeah…” Katara joined in, stroking her chin slowly and thoughtfully. “That is true! Remember the time you solved the murder of Chin the Conqueror and figured out how Kyoshi couldn’t have killed him the way the town was describing it? And that was all in one day!”

Sokka puffed up his chest in pride. “Well I guess it was true! I did figure that out all in one day…”

“Not to mention the final Fire Nation plan where you took down like, twenty airships from just one singular ship!” Aang pointed out. “That was pretty cool! You’re practically the King of Wacky Ideas!”

And just like that Sokka was sent into an excited, over-the-top retelling of the day of the invasion, imitating the voice he had made when he had tricked the troops into walking down to the bottom level of the ship through an announcement, making lots of dramatic woosh, woosh, woosh!! and then woomph, woomph, woomph noises that were meant to be Suki fighting and Toph earth-bending.

And before Aang could even send a cheeky wink at Katara, who was trying very hard to stifle a giggle, Sokka had basically agreed to help out with planning the Joint Nations Council meeting with Aang’s idea.

And so they got down to work right away. Aang knew the perfect location was the neutral grounds of Republic City and it wasn’t soon before he narrowed down the choices to an empty field close enough to the ports for ships from the Water Tribes to enter from, far enough from the rest of the main village to keep confidential talks away from prying ears.

Hawks were sent off to Toph in her metal bending school asking for help with some of her Earth-bending building construction skills; and to Zuko in the fire nation palace to ask what he thought of the plan, being one of the aforementioned snobby leaders of the world.

Katara excitedly took charge of the décor, and Aang watched with amazement as Katara revealed a surprisingly large knowledge of wild flowers and fabric patterns for decorating what would need to be a cautiously tasteful event (no clear colour schemes of any one nation, lots of neutral white and black, pink and turquoise).

Sokka announced that well-fed world leaders were happy world leaders, declared himself as official Avatar-Business Food-Caterer and marched off to town to taste ‘some of the finest cuisines Republic City had to offer’.

In the meantime, Aang laid out his scrolls, poured over his notes and scrawled out in his messy penmanship the crucial points to be discussed in the first ever Joint Nations Council.

In the last few months, Aang had done his absolute best to be Global Peace Diplomat. Or well, so he tried to do his best. Travelling between nations, listening to each of their complaints, and organising mediation talks between their conflicts and tribulations.

The War Reparations Talk was finally over after years of struggling in negotiations harder than trudging out of Wan Shi Tong’s desert. Aang frankly, was plainly exhausted – but with the Northern Water Tribe electing a new chief, and all the nations’ bank accounts fat and happy with reparations finally coming through (well maybe except the Fire Nation that the reparations were coming from, but that was a special case), there was no better time to begin moving away from backward-looking war reparations toward establishing forward-looking peace talks and international relations.

And it wasn’t an easy task. Each country had their own struggles to deal with – and as Aang was quickly learning, the personality and temperament of each leader made communications very different too. Where Earth King Kuei was outwardly indecisive and fickle-minded, Zuko was quietly intense and stubborn; where Southern Chief Hakoda was daring and unconventional, Northern Chief Arnook was conservative and risk-adverse.

Different combinations of each leader, in different scenarios, led in different methods, resulted in as many different outcomes as a game of pai sho could. As much as Aang had tried his best making sure the wishes and concerns of each nation were heard and dealt with, he wasn’t entirely sure he could cover every outcome of the game at once.

Avatar Roku had mentioned before – every avatar had been chosen in his or her lifetime to fit the purpose the world needed at each time period.

In Aang’s lifetime, it sometimes felt like his purpose was destined to be that of a peacekeeper in an endlessly broken, constantly recovering post-war world.  

And the role of peacekeeper, really was, the role of dealing with people.

I am good with people. I am great with people!

Katara had said he was doing a wonderful job, but as much as he trusted Katara, he had learned the hard way that Katara gave him more credit than most of the rest of the world tended to.

I am good at peace too! I’m so peaceful I don’t even eat meat or kill animals!

Sokka had called him the greatest anti-violence guru of all time, attracting a roar of laughter from Toph just last week.

I am great at people and peace! Aren’t I?

Am I?

The hawk returned with a message in Zuko’s cursive, royally-trained calligraphy: ‘Sounds good. Leave the tea-making to me.’

Almost simultaneously after, Toph announced her arrival on site with a loud rumble of the earth that almost threw Aang off his feet.

“I’ll do you one better Twinkle Toes!” Toph called out as she threw Aang’s message back to him, grinning like a madman. “I’ll build you the best metal meeting chamber. I mean, why use Earth when you’ve got good old metal?”

Aang grinned back in return. Metal construction? Trust Toph to always come up with something new. “Glad to have you here Toph, thanks so much for coming by to help so quickly.”

Toph laughed, punching Aang in the shoulder the way she liked to.

“Of course I came right away! Can’t miss out on watching Twinkle Toes host a tea party for the world leaders after all, right?”

***

And so, much to Aang’s dismay, the name stuck – he was hosting the first ever Joint Nations Tea Party.

It was what Sokka called it when he ordered rice cakes and snacks from the local village for the catering; what Toph called it when she produced an impressive dome-like building with a circular table in the middle and christened it ‘Tea Party Central’; what Katara called it when she helped Aang read over his conference plans and scribbled additional notes on his already overflowing scrolls.

It was what Zuko called it when he arrived earliest on the morning of the meeting in his air balloon, grumbling but smiling his small but genuine smile as he was bundled into a hug by the rest of the group. He unloaded two satchels – one of which he drew out a Fire Nation-sealed scroll and brush to leave on the council table; the other, a humble travelling tea pot set, five tea cups and a green Jasmine Dragon apron.

“What? It’s only hygienic to have on an apron when you brew tea.” He scowled as Aang, Sokka and Katara stiffened their giggles, perhaps not quite realising how strange it was for them to see their old friend wearing a tea-stained green apron over the fiery red of his formal Fire Lord robes. 

And as Zuko disappeared into the small make-shift kitchen, the smell of ginger and jasmine tea permeating Tea Party Central, Sokka, Toph and Katara bid their farewells before the rest of the world leaders would begin arriving.

“Remember, the Kyoshi Warriors have got security right round the corner.” Sokka gave Aang a pat on the shoulder.

“And if anything, we’ll be right round the corner to smash some heads together too.” Toph grinned, smacking a fist into her palm.

“And sweetie, I know you’ll be just wonderful.” Katara gave Aang a soft kiss on the side of the cheek. More quietly, she added in, her soft blue eyes meeting Aang’s serious grey ones: “I know you expect a lot from yourself, but just do what you feel is right, and I know it will be more than enough.” 

Aang felt himself blush – Katara seemed to endlessly have that effect on him – but he nodded firmly, trying to show more conviction than he really felt.

As he watched his friends leave and returned to the centre, he found Zuko already sitting down cross-legged on the table on the soft cushions Katara had picked out, apron still on, furrowing his brows as he poured over one of his own many scrolls and notes.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, watching as Aang walked in and sat down next to him. With the others gone, Zuko seemed to have let down his usual gruff façade, and up close, he looked just as permanently exhausted but dead-set stubborn to get this right as Aang felt.

In spite of himself, this made Aang smile.

“I’m nervous I guess.” The long, stressed sigh Aang was breathing out somehow turned instead into a laugh. “Sometimes, I look at myself, and all I see is a kid pretending to belong on the adult’s table, just trying his best to look the part before someone realises he should really be playing at the children’s sand pit, not peace talks.”

This made Zuko let out a short chuckle. “You and me both, buddy.” He mused. “You should have seen the ministers grill me on the meeting prep yesterday. You could just see how angry they were making themselves, thinking throughout the meeting, why is this teenager going to attend important international meetings, while I, who have worked hard through my promoted roles, just sits by?

“Hah, was this General Au?” Aang laughed while Zuko nodded with a roll of his eyes. “That sounds exactly like what he would say. But hey at least you have ministers to ask advices from. All I get is vague spiritual advice from my past lives.”

“Aang, these are ministers who want me to prove my worth to them. Some of whom I think, are just waiting for me to slip up to...” Zuko’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing serious and clouding with thought. He averted his eyes, like as if clearing away the thought and added: “Point is, trust me, you’d rather have the vague spiritual past lives than a cabinet of ministers inherited from a war lord. But anyway. What did your vague past lives tell you about this meeting?”

Aang could tell Zuko’s mind was on something but he didn’t push it – Zuko was often reluctant to talk about the internal political issues he faced, and there wouldn’t be time anyway to do the conversation justice before the other nation leaders arrived.

So instead, Aang replied, thinking back to his recent talk with Roku: “They told me that each avatar serves a specific purpose in their lifetime. I think mine is meant to be maintaining peace and helping people recover from the hundred-year war. I’m not sure if I really know how to do those things though.”

The carnage, the poverty, the burning villages. Aang had seen enough for his lifetime. Roku had too, stood by his side many nights as they had stood atop hills, looking down upon war-torn towns. The towns really, looked the same from afar, no matter which nation they were in.

“Hmm. I think the Joint Tea Party is a good first step to achieving that purpose.”

“Really?” Aang glanced at Zuko. Suddenly, the idea of the world leaders walking through the door, just to be expected to sit down and chat over tea seemed like an utterly ridiculous idea. Maybe Aang should have stayed on the kid’s sandpit.

“You know, maybe this was just a stupid idea after all.” Aang started rambling faintly. “Honestly speaking, maybe we should remove the lilies in the corner, get rid of that mountain of rice cakes Sokka got, and oh my goodness, the cushions –“

“Look Aang,” Zuko cut in firmly, looking straight at Aang. “I really do think it’s a good idea.”

Aang was startled by the conviction he saw in Zuko’s eyes. “You don’t think it’s a ridiculous plan?”

Zuko shrugged. “I’ll admit, it is a bit ridiculous. Who knows, it may just flop disastrously – much like that third reparations meeting...”

Aang gave a cold shiver. That particular meeting had ended in swords being drawn and a minister thrown into a lake.

The sounds of ships sounding by the port indicated the arrival of the water tribes. Aang groaned at his potentially impending doom, but Zuko stood up with a deep breath.

“But I believe it’s worth a chance.” Zuko beckoned for Aang to head with him toward the door. He flashed Aang a rare smile. “Because this is exactly the kind of ridiculous idea my uncle would try.”

Chief Hakoda was the sort of man whose corner of lips were always slightly upturned, and his blue eyes always just slightly twinkly – like as if there was a kind joke he was constantly sharing with himself in a rather Sokka-esque manner. Today though, his eyes were somewhat extra twinkly, the corner of his lips extra upturned – and Aang had a suspicion it probably had to do with the fact that he was being served tea by the Fire Lord in a green apron (should Aang tell Zuko to remember to take that off?), and rice cakes by tiny air scooters made by the Avatar.

Despite the amusement he clearly wasn’t bothering to hide, Hakoda thanked them both for the food and in return, offered to help set up the world maps for the meting.

On Aang’s left, King Kuei too was charmed by the whole set up. Happily munching on rice cakes and sipping his tea, he gazed around the room in delight, admiring Toph’s metal handiwork and exclaiming in amazement: “An earth-bender did this? An earth-bender did this?” Though Aang had asked only for one representative from each nation, Bosco the bear as always, was the exception and bundled down by Kuei’s side, giving Aang a delighted lick when he set down a plate of tuna for him.

Nuniq the new Northern Water Tribe chief, on the other hand, was nothing short of deadly suspicious. Dressed in his formal northern pelts, Nuniq was around his mid-fifties, had a ferociously impressive beard and quizzical eyebrows that raised skyward when Zuko politely asked if he wanted ginger or jasmine tea. He sniffed one of the rice cakes on his plates, but otherwise left the cup of jasmine tea Zuko had poured untouched in the corner of the table. Aang thought there was some kind of pride that radiated from him – but one that felt more like arrogance than mere self-conviction – but stored that perception away for another time.

To Aang’s careful delight, the food, tea and generally informal setting seemed to put everyone in a relaxed, chatty mood. Hakoda was already well-known and respected amongst the leaders, including the new Chief Nuniq from his sister tribe - and ever the experienced diplomat, Hakoda introduced Nuniq to the group to break the ice, generously describing him as a skilled leader and highly strategic former military general who had been involved in building the Northern tribe’s fortress walls.

“Ah yes, I am proud to say my design and work on the walls have helped made them impenetrable by any Fire Nation spies or soldiers up till today.” Nuniq nodded with a proud smile. “No offence,” He added to Zuko’s direction, in a way that seemed to suggested that he entirely didn’t care if he offended Zuko. “But we definitely wanted the Fire Nation out of our realms. I did a good job defending my tribe, people felt safe under my care – and naturally, I was a top contender for chief once Arnook decided to head into retirement.”

“Indeed sir. I have heard that the Northern walls are truly impenetrable.” Zuko commented, his face impassive.

It was a testament to their friendship that Aang could discern the light, amused sarcasm in Zuko’s voice, and sent Zuko an intense glare from across the table that he hoped communicated now is NOT the time to tell the Northern water tribe you once penetrated their great walls to hunt the avatar.

Luckily, Zuko seemed to get the hint and made no more attempts to mention his past conquests in the North. The introductions were rounded up before Aang masterfully drove the conversation into a discussions on the matters on the formal agenda.

Top on everyone’s lists of things to discuss were the issues of refugees. A flood of Earth Kingdom refugees had begun heading outward toward each of the different nations, often from war-torn zones in search of better land and opportunities.

Aang had been helping those he could with their travels and safety. In the ideal world that Aang imagined, all they needed was safe passage (Appa, check), and a place to resettle down (lots of land, all around the world, check!). But the reality was much more complicated. Aang was quickly learning that not everyone – well, really, the whole world except the air nomads – had a specific sense of territoriality around land and ownership, and unfortunately, providing safe passage and a place to resettle involved, well, land.

And well, that was where the complicated political stuff Aang hated came in.

“The south is always happy to take in refugees.” Hakoda began offering amicably. “We are of course limited in the sense that we are still a small tribe rebuilding after the war. Otherwise, however, we have made it clear that our water tribe arms are more than open…”

“Well, Hakoda speaks only for the South.” Nuniq snapped, cutting Hakoda off. “The North has been overflooded with refugees, and frankly we are not happy about it. I’ll be honest here – asking earth benders to fit into the Northern Water Tribe is like asking badger-moles to live in a snowy iceberg. It’s just not going to work – and my people are getting testy about all the foreigners being around.”

The air in the room suddenly seemed to drop in temperature.

Next to Nuniq, Earth King Kuei’s brows were furrowed and worried, Hakoda’s eyes seemed to have lost all its twinkle and Zuko’s impassive face was slowly transforming into its more habitual glare.

“Well, I’m sure if you gave it some time, you’ll see that people from all nations can usually get along just fine, chief Nuniq.” Aang said cheerily, trying to defuse the tension that Nuniq had suddenly created. “For example, the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom now live in harmony in Republic City.”

Man, it takes days to create a relaxed setup, and one second to turn it right back to this.

“I think you underestimate the strength and pride of our Northern cultures, Avatar.” Nuniq narrowed his eyes at Aang. “Unlike the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, we are not a people who will stand by to the dilution of our cultures and traditions easily.”

“You are wrong.” Zuko spoke up, his eyes narrowed. “The Fire Nation is a proud nation too which stands by to its cultures. However, the matter of culture is a matter quite separate to the issue of refugees.”

Aang was suddenly struck with the reminder that Zuko too, had once been a refugee, as he watched his friend, red robes below a forgotten green apron, golden eyes below the red scar, fiercely continue: “Taking in refugees doesn’t equate to the dilution of culture. How could you use that as a reason to refuse genuine refugees who…”

“…who the Fire Nation forced out of their lands?” Nuniq shot back. He smirked and shook his head. “You do know the refugee problem is caused by your wars and your actions right?”

“Chief Nuniq,” Aang could tell that Zuko was trying his best to keep his voice even and calm, in the way he always did when the tricky subject of the war came back up. “The Fire Nation has withdrawn its troops since years ago, decolonised its colonies and sent reparations where it can. The issue of the refugees cannot be solely blamed upon…”

“Then what is the root cause of this in-flood of foreigners in the Northern water tribe then?” Nuniq snapped back. Nuniq turned around to face King Kuei instead, and Aang barely had time to feel relieved that the tension had been taken off an increasingly agitated Zuko before Nuniq continued: “King Kuei, you haven’t said anything on this matter yet. What are your thoughts about this? These refugees are your citizens after all, aren’t they? Why are they leaving the Earth Kingdom?”

“I…” For a moment, all eyes were turned on Kuei, who had been quietly sitting in a corner, fumbling with his notes. He seemed to shrink under the gazes, his glasses dropping a notch on the bridge of his nose. “I… I’m not entirely sure, I’ve sent out intelligence to seek out the root problems, but they seem to have reported that the refugees have mostly been unpatriotic citizens who wish to no longer serve the Kingdom. My ministers have informed me that the matter is out of my hands.”

“Perhaps your ministers should consider better security to keep your people in line then.” Nuniq snapped. “Deserters of a nation are always cowardly and without character. You need to learn to sharpen them up.”

And that was it, because Aang had seen the refugees, and he knew it was more than just a matter of being unpatriotic and being of a lack of character – but even more than that, Nuniq was now harbouring on telling Kuei how to rule his country, and goodness knows that was bad for talks built on nation sovereignty and independence, so Aang cut in firmly:

“Chief Nuniq, I respect what you’re saying, but you’re getting everyone worked up about this matter by just shifting blame around without really coming to a solution.” Aang provided, cautious to keep his tone pleasant and amicable. “I respect that the North has its concerns about the refugees, so why don’t we…”

“Those didn’t seem like very valid concerns though.” Zuko butted in, his voice deadly quiet. “Honestly, Chief Nuniq, it sounds like you have some racism and prejudice that perhaps need a little checking.”

Aang would have given Zuko a hug if he hadn’t also wanted so much to kill him on the spot.

Because while Zuko had voiced exactly what Aang was thinking in the perfect amount of disdain and anger, it was not the time or place to speaking one’s mind, and Aang had been almost on the brink of bringing things back to being amicable if not for Zuko’s words.

Aang unconsciously placed a hand on the tip of his staff, mentally readying for another third-reparations-meeting scenario…

Unexpectedly, Nuniq laughed.

Instead of drawing out knives or snapping back a reply, Nuniq threw his head back and roared with laughter.

Even Zuko sat back in his seat, stunned, but his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Nuniq shook his head as he reduced into a bitter chuckle, before pulling out a few scrolls from his knapsack.

“All of you need to just get off your high horses.” Nuniq growled. “You think I don’t have valid concerns for what I’m saying? I didn’t want to pull this out because I wanted to keep our negotiations amicable, but you all leave me with no choice.”

“Firstly, there’s this.” Nuniq took out four tattered-looking scrolls, throwing one of each in Zuko, Aang, Kuei and Hakoda’s directions. “You think you’re so high and mighty, Lord Zuko, being such a wonderful peace-loving ruler letting refugees into your country, being all buddies with the avatar.”

“Well guess what,” Aang opened up the scroll and felt his blood run cold as he read its contents. “The Fire Lord’s ministers have been putting out rewards for people to catch refugees and toss them out of the Fire Nation.”

“Lord Zuko,” Nuniq sneered. “You’re either a really good liar who’s got everyone fooled; or you’re just a really weak ruler, who doesn’t actually has his ministers under his control.”

Aang looked to Zuko, hoping to see his friend flare back into action or to provide some explanation; to say something, to do anything.

But instead, Zuko had gone quiet, his face impassive as he trained his eyes on the scroll. If he was surprised by the scroll, he was doing a good job of not showing it. And Zuko, usually, is not very good at hiding how he feels, Aang remembered, with a troubling sense of dread.

But Nuniq wsn’t done. He picked up the last scroll on his hand and laid it out. It was a criminal record scroll, Aang recognised from its Water Tribe seals, and a long one at that. Small, neat written characters detailing the occurrence of various crimes across multiple dates spread out across the scroll. At the end of the scroll, several artist sketches jumped from the page – of three men with tattoos below their left ears, and finally the sketch of a young woman holding a boy in her arms.

“There’s a criminal gang that has been terrorising the north.” Nuniq snarled. Suddenly, all of his sarcasm and sneers he had directed toward Zuko were gone, replaced by an anger that seemed sincere. “They call themselves the Badgers. A criminal gang that formed from the Earth Kingdom refugees we accepted. They began off doing petty crimes: robbing homes and mugging innocent Water Tribe citizens. We let them off easy at first – sparing them compassion and kindness,” He spat those words out like poison, nodding in Aang’s direction, “which is why Arnook probably hasn’t mentioned them to you before, Avatar.”

“But just the day before – they made their first strike. A woman and a child were murdered in cold blood in their homes.” Nuniq’s deep voice was filled with anger.

His words seemed to hang in the air, and for a moment, the image of the woman and her child seemed to occupy the room.   

Dressed in her fur pelts and wearing her warm smile, the drawing of the young woman forced Aang to think of Katara. The child, a happy, bubbling baby in the arms of his mother.

Aang felt chills travel up his spine.

“And what for? What did the Badgers draw blood for? All because the mother refused to let the Badgers take their last pieces of bread.”

Nuniq folded the scroll, stood up, and glanced grimly at Hakoda. Hakoda was quiet – he had been quiet since the start of Nuniq’s outburst, his face truly unreadable. “Let this be a warning for you, my sister tribe. These refugees are not good people.”

Nuniq turned to Zuko and Kuei. “I must say, I had hoped more from the both of you. But I should have expected just as much. Weak rulers do not thrive for long. I only hope that you keep your internal problems out of my nation.”

And finally, Nuniq turned to Aang. Piercing blue eyes met his – not warm like Katara’s, not twinkly like Hakoda’s, but fierce and proud. Nuniq was a man who knew what he wanted and would work to what he wanted.

“Avatar, you say you respect my concerns, but I’m not sure you actually do.” Nuniq started to turn to leave. Alarmed, Aang got up too, but Nuniq raised a hand to stop him in the tracks. “Peace talks won’t work until my concerns are truly heard. Let me know when you’re ready to actually understand and help the North instead of defending the wrong side.”

And with that, Nuniq gathered up the remainder of his things and left.

His jasmine tea, still full to the brim, was cold and untouched.