There were more important things to concern himself with.
An entire city, the legacy of Avatar Aang and his grandfather was being threatened by a madman. It could be destroyed in a matter of days. His mother and father were of course worried for his safety; his father was particularly concerned for his brother and his family. Iroh had assured them that everything would be okay. He had trained his whole life for this. To preserve the balance of this world when chaos ensued; to embody the four nations and represent them through his swords. This is what he was trained to do. Avatar Korra and he would take down Amon, just like Aang and his grandfather had taken down Ozai and Azula years ago.
But for some bloody reason, his attention couldn't hold for more than ten seconds with that…Asami Sato in his sights.
He had met and spoken with beautiful women such as herself before, Courted them, loved them. Never settled down due to the demands of his job and role in the Fire Nation and the world. His father was rather persistent as of recent, sending him pictures of eligible women in the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom courts. Iroh would glance over the pretty faces and hourglass shapes one second, and throw them away the next.
C'mon, Iroh his father would laugh. I didn't catch your mom by being a snob.
If I'm going to get married, Iroh would reply. My wife is not going to be some trophy.
Yet, no woman before had made him feel like this. Every time she was in the room, he gravitated towards her. Slowly but surely within a minute's time, he would be a few feet beside her, discussing the next line of attack with Avatar Korra. She would cut in every now and again and plan out a new (brilliant) strategy that he and Korra had no choice but to agree to.
She was ferocious in combat and drove a satomobile like a professional. The way she used the enemy's weapons against them was cunning and she never let the equalists forget who they were dealing with.
It was unfortunate that he had yet to talk to her outside of the control room.
So, here he was on the dock of his ship, anticipating at any second an attack against his fleet, thinking about some trivial matter in the grand schemes of things. Spirits, he was 28 years old, not some shook up teenager! How could one woman have such an effect on him?
"This is hopeless," he hissed as he gripped the rails of the ship. "I'm hopeless."
"No you're not."
Iroh stiffened as her voice broke through his self-deprecating haze. Her enchanting green eyes met him as he turned around, ashamed she had seen him in such a condition. It was unworthy of a prince.
"How long have you been standing there?" Iroh asked her, keeping his voice low and formal. She was infatuation. She was temptation in the face of restless war. Nothing less and nothing more.
"Just for a minute or two," she replied, her gaze drifting to the dark ocean before them. "I was having some trouble sleeping."
"Aren't we all?" Iroh chuckled against his better judgment. "I doubt you can get much sleep with that contraption around your arm."
Asami looked down and wrapped her free hand around her metalbound arm. "I don't ever want them to have the upper hand."
"Smart," Iroh nodded and turned his head back to the ocean and moon. He figured the conversation was over. She would continue walking and he would continue with his inappropriate thoughts and oncoming fantasies. Curse his grandmother and her idealistic stories of fairytale romances…
He didn't expect her to creep up beside him, their arms inches a part, staring at the pale white moon above Yue Bay right along with him.
They stood in silence for a time, surveying the area and keeping each other company in the dark hell they were surrounded in. Amon was probably taking away another person's bending this instant - people were probably being captured, pillaged, murdered, raped…and he could nothing but wait for dawn. When hopefully the final battle would commence and Amon's reign would end. Maybe then he could see if there was something more to this…crush.
"I've been meaning to tell you something," she declared, her eyes still fixed on the dark blue waves. Iroh stiffened again but this time, it was out of anticipation. He didn't know her very well (or at all). She could be confessing some dark secret in the next five seconds, or that she likes turtleduck stew (which would be terrible and kind of a turn off). So he turned and waited, focusing his gaze on the way the moonlight caressed her skin and accentuated her rosy lips.
"Thank you for your treating me like an equal," she breathed out as she faced him. Iroh was caught by surprise; tears threatened to spill from her eyes and her lips were scrunched up in a grimace. "Like my opinion mattered. That I should be respected. I haven't felt…worthy of anything for quite some time and I thought I would be out of place in the control room with you and Korra planning everything out. But you listened to me, considered and approved of my ideas. I….thank you. It meant a lot."
Iroh was torn. On the one hand, he knew she didn't want to seem vulnerable and he should respect that. Say "you're welcome" and "that it was nothing" and move on. On the other hand, he should be the gentleman and tell her it was okay to cry, ask her why such a strong, capable, and beautiful woman would ever feel that way in the first place.
So he asked himself: What would Grandpa Zuko do?
Asami Sato was the embodiment of everything he respected and admired in a person. And he would be damned if he ever let someone like her feel like this in front of him. She was worthy of all the praise and attention.
She was more than worthy of his attention.
Too worthy, his mother would say.
"You're welcome," he whispered as he gingerly tucked stray black locks behind her ear. "You can tell me anything you want. I'm here for you."
The soft smiled he received was more than enough satisfaction for his wonderstruck heart.