Hakoda still hasn't said anything. He's grabbed a whale-tooth sword from where it hung on the wall behind him, and has set about sharpening it with a stone. His movements are rhythmic and well-practiced, with a calmness that's almost uncanny. At last he says lowly, casually, "Would you mind repeating that for me?"

Zuko swallows, and he hadn't realized until now how dry his throat has gotten. Even in the chill of the igloo, he can feel sweat dripping at the back of his neck, and beading upon his brow. "Um," he says, but when his voice cracks, he clears his throat and starts again. "Uh. Sir. Chief. Chief Hakoda, Sir, I, uh…" He's trembling now. Somehow, this moment is the most terrifying one of his life - scarier still than facing his own father during the eclipse all those years ago. "Chief Hakoda, I am asking for your blessing in marrying Katara. I mean, your daughter. I mean-"

Hakoda lifts one hand - the hand with the stone in it - to stop him, and Zuko's mouth snaps shut.

"Relax," he says. It sounds more like an order than a suggestion. When Zuko's eyes dart downward to the sword across Hakoda's lap, the chief lets out a hearty chuckle. "Oh, this isn't for you. Just getting ready for tomorrow's hunting trip. Now, what's this about you marrying my daughter?"

"Well, you see," Zuko straightens his shoulders, and hopes the extra bass in his voice isn't too obvious. "We're very happy together… me and Katara, I mean. I mean, Katara and I. Me. Katara and me."

"It's I," Hakoda corrects, raising a mildly disturbed (and perhaps amused?) eyebrow.

"Right," Zuko feels his face getting hotter. "Katara and I have been happy together for a long time now, and I think…" he slows down, pausing to make sure the words come out in the right order, "that it's time I asked her to marry me."

Hakoda turns the weapon over in his hand in a contemplative gesture, examining the winding around the tooth. When he finally looks up, his brow is furrowed. Zuko almost wants to vomit from anxiety.

"I know how badly you hurt my daughter during the war. I wasn't there to see it, but I know all about what you did."

In shame, Zuko inclines his head. "Please, sir… I mean, Chief. Few people understand better than Katara how much I regret my actions. And, I mean, it's not like I only hurt Katara… I hurt lots of other people, too! All over the world!"

Chief Hakoda gives an unamused glare. "I gotta say, you're not doing a great job selling yourself."

"Wait… wait, no. That came out all wrong!" His hands are out, palms extended for mercy. "Oh, for the love of-... look, the more I talk, the more I just embarrass myself. I'm the Firelord, for crying out loud, and I'm standing here in front of you shaking in my boots. Literally!" At this, Hakoda stifles a self-satisfied laugh. "Chief Hakoda," Zuko takes two proud steps forward, "You know me. Or, you've gotten to know me. So… will you give me your blessing? Or won't you?"

Hakoda takes his time, pursing his lips as he examines the blade of his weapon and runs his thumb along the edge. Zuko knows he's torturing him like this on purpose, gaining the sick sort of gratification only enjoyed by fathers when young men are in love with their daughters.

"Does she know you're planning to ask her?"

"Well, not exactly."

"You must be very confident that she'll say yes."

Zuko doesn't know how to respond without sounding like an arrogant jerk, so he stays quiet.

Hakoda continues, "Firelady Katara… it does have a nice ring to it. And she would make a great Firelady."

"That's what I'm saying!" Zuko beams, hopeful.

"I know all about," Hakoda says, finally setting aside his sword, "the mistakes you made as a boy. But I also know about how you nearly gave your life for Katara." Then, downcast, "I only wish I could have done the same for Kya."

Zuko doesn't think he's ever even heard Hakoda say his late wife's name before.

Then Hakoda says, "You would do that for her again, if it came down to it?"

"Without hesitation." Zuko is more confidant in this answer than in anything he's said thus far.

"I believe you. But I'm sure you understand, son… why I've always had reservations about the two of you."

"If you're still worried about me hurting her, then… well, I've fought Katara before. And let me tell you - excuse my language - but that woman can kick the shit out of me."

So Hakoda tosses his head back and lets out a proper guffaw. "That, she can! And don't you forget it."

"Believe me," Zuko finally allows himself a smile, "She won't let me live it down."

"There's one thing I'm not understanding, though, that I'm hoping you can clarify."

"Anything, sir. Uh, Chief."

"You're the Firelord. You hardly need to ask anyone's permission for anything. Why go through these motions?"

"Because…" The question catches him off guard, but the answer comes surprisingly easy. "Because I respect you. I respect Katara. My father once told me that I would learn respect, and that suffering would be my teacher. I believed him then. But now I know that love is what teaches respect. And I realize that it isn't just Katara I love. It's Sokka, you, Gran-Gran... your whole family. And I… I want to be a part of it. If you'll have me, that is."

Zuko's heart is pounding and underneath all his layers of clothing, he's sure that he's soaked in sweat. Hakoda is grinning now - grinning wide and eager - as he finally approaches, extending a hand to clap onto Zuko's shoulder.

"If my daughter agrees to marry you," he tells him, "it would be an honor to welcome the Firelord into our family."