Chapter Text
Zhao's voice reaches her ears, sharp enough that it could cut through any walls. "Get in here already! Useless scribe." He mutters the last part, loud enough for her to hear, intentionally, of course.
She has been working under the position of Admiral Zhao's clerk for about 4 months now. Never in her life has she regretted her career choices more than now.
To say it was exhausting was a huge understatement. His constant demands and high expectations were really taking a toll on the poor clerk.
Oh, and how can we forget all those times when he'd make her listen to all his speech ideas and then have her write them all down. Sometimes he'd wake her up in the middle of the night for it.
The admiral really worked her fingers to the bone.
When the clerk enters Zhao's office she finds him standing at the head of a table on witch maps and scrolls are scattered across. His hands were clenched behind his back. His amber eyes locked and focused on the papers laid before him. But his tensed posture and dark circles gave away his exhaustion.
Not surprised, it wasn't uncommon for him to stay up all night thinking of battle strategies.
She bows to him before speaking up. "Yes, admiral?" He was in a bad mood, that mush was easy to tell. That meant one thing: he was about to let his frustrations out on the nearest person. The already overworked scribe.
This is going to be a long day.
"Did you sent the Fire Lord a transcript of my latest speech?" He speaks up without looking at her. His tone was...impatient, but she could sense the weariness behind it.
She thinks fast for a proper answer that would not add to his irritation.
"Yes, sir. Days ago, actually. You should know that, for I had informed you of it the moment I sent it." He makes a dismissive wave in her direction and scoffs. He could be so annoying sometimes.
Zhao finally looks away from the mess on the table and directs his eyes towards his annalist. Making eye contact. Alright, that meant he was serious. Really serious.
"Are you sure. Because I’m starting to doubt it? It's been almost a whole week and I still haven't received a response from Lord Ozai." A vain was starting to throb in his forehead.
Oh, Zhao and his obsession to show off to the Fire Lord.
"Well, I could never imagine why his highness wouldn't answer, considering he shouldn't be to busy with only having a nation to run and a war to coordinate. Sir."
She swore to drop the sarcasm for she knew how much he hates it. But it was so hard to resist sometimes.
Yeah, the clerk could see that her words only added to Zhao's irritation. That scowl on his face made her regret her words. Looking away from him, she apologises. "Sorry, admiral...what i meant is-"
"I want you to rewrite it and send it again" his voice left no room for arguing. But she really wasn't looking forward to doing unnecessary work. "And make several other copies besides that."
The clerk was not gonna spend the whole night doing that.
"Sir, I don’t think we should bother the Fire Lord with any more unnecessary paperwork..." she trails off. Her words were not going through his head.
He takes a few steps in her direction and stops right in front of her. "Are you questioning a direct order from your superior officer, clerk?"
That's what she's trying, yes, with him being so difficult.
She take a small breath and puts on a little smile. It adds to the professionalism, or so she’s been told.
"No, sir. I'm just..." the scribe searches her mind for the right word. "Advising you." She says slowly, really hoping he will just drop it.
Of course she doesn't have that kind of luck. Not when it comes to this man, at least. "I don’t need your advice. Have I asked for it? No! So you better learn how to do your job properly and listen to orders like a lowly scribe like you should!"
The annalist was just looking forward to a peaceful day. But, no. He just needs to have one of his breakdowns right now. She didn’t sign up for any of this.
She really forces that smile to stay on her face.
"Admiral, let’s calm down and think logically-"
her words come to a halt when he grabbed her shoulders roughly. It startled the clerk, but she quickly composes herself.
That look on his face. The clenched teeth, the tensed body, red face, and, oh, that vain in his forehead looked like it was about to pop.
He was on the verge of exploding. Maybe he would, at least she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.
He snaps at her. "Don’t tell me to calm down, woman. I should send you to the brig for insubordination. Or have you scrub the deck of every ship in my fleet!"
She remains composed, looking at him calmly as if they were simply enjoying a cup of tea on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.
She didn't doubt for a second that he wouldn't do those things if he would be pissed off enough. And the scribe wasn't looking forward to spending her night locked under deck in the cold, wet brig, with only rats to keep her company.
He starts complaining and whining like the unsatisfied bitch he was. His voice was a constant pain in her ears. "If you can't do your job right that ill have you replaced. And blah blah blah..."
This was a delicate situation that one must navigate carefully. It's time to be humble, remain calm and deescalate the situation
She tries to put on a sweeter voice. "My greatest apologies, admiral. For if I had offend you I certainly did not mean any disrespect."
She thinks it was somehow working. Or not...
He pulls her closer. "Do you take me for a fool? I know exactly what you meant. Your act won’t hold up with me, clerk."
He really has to be this difficult. As if he can't just get over it. This insufferable man. This constant pain in her ass. If he would shut up, she can already feel a headache coming up.
He keeps ranting, but his words just don't seem to register in her mind anymore.
With all that’s been happening she hasn't even realized just how close their bodies were now. She's never been so close to this man before.
His hands on her shoulders were a strange, new feeling. Yes, they were rough, but warm, in a weirdly pleasant way.
They were also starting to get warmer. Knowing he had little to no self-control I knew that if he keeps this up he'll probably burn the clerk to a crisp.
She's pulled out of her thoughts when he shakes her. Their eyes meet once more, a chill runs down her spine. He speaks up, this time his tone lower. "You understand what I’m saying, right?"
No, she didn't really. She hasn’t been paying attention at all. "Or course, admiral."
He remains silent. His grip on her shoulders has loosened. His eyes run over her face for a moment.
Their faces were quite close together. She never took a moment to really look at Zhao. Yes, his short temper made him utterly repulsive, but he wasn't that bad on the eye. It's something the scribe could work with, you know.
No, wait. What was she thinking? Zhao? Hell nah. Never. Her standards are well up high. He could never reach them.
But his eyes were captivating.
"Don’t disappoint me again, scribe. I’m not in the mood to look for a replacement."
And in this moment, his voice seamed soft and lacking of the usual harshness.
"I know your smarter that you seam." One of his hands runs lower on her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze.
What was this weird feeling?
She finds her voice again. "I won't let you down, sir."
His lips turn upwards in a smirk. That damn smirk. "I sure hope not." He pats her arm before finally letting go of her. He walks over to the table again. "You're dismisses."
Those were his last words to her for the rest of the day. I spent the whole night away making copies of his speech.
The clerk knows he likes being insufferable. That he thinks of himself to be so above everyone else. She should give herself more credit for her endurance because this is not a job for the week. And if this means she'll have to put up with all of this just so she could keep it, then so be it.