Disclaimer: Bryke, don't sue me for a drabble. It's not worth it.
Characters: Asami Sato and Iroh II
Note: Written while I was delirious with excitement and unable to sleep before the big Season 1 finale. Because I do not possess the power to see the future, it is not plot-accurate.
Summary: When Hiroshi Sato defends his daughter from Amon's Equalists, Amon makes an example of Sato's disloyalty by publicly executing him. As a result, Asami loses it. When she goes rogue, Avatar Korra requests General Iroh to go find her friend.
Elegance in Wartime
"Miss Sato, I implore you: Put down the Equalist weapon."
With disheveled hair and a frenzied electricity in her eyes, Asami Sato stood among droves of Equalist and United Republic of Nations (URN) soldiers. Her perfectly proportioned outfit was ripped and stained; the cuff of her right sleeve singed from the voltage of her weaponized glove.
The alleyway battlefield looked like the result of a skirmish between many armed men, but she knew every body lying in the street had been shocked by her own hand. Arms bent in unnatural angles, groans and screams of agony, and the eerie silence of near-death surrounded her.
From a battle-trained perspective, the scene was grotesquely fascinating, a real work of emotional art. There was a defined line by which an observant eye could track the before and after effects of Amon threatening and extinguishing Hiroshi Sato's life.
On one side, Equalists groaned and wheezed on the ground, injured or blacked out, but obviously not in mortal condition. However, beyond a certain point sprawled bodies that could not get up, fallen friends as well as foe.
Although there are little to no external signs of death by electric shock, an acrid stench hung in the air. The putrid smell resembled a kind of antithesis to the cleansing fragrance of a lightning storm.
"Oh god," Asami whispered, not noticing the URN soldier calling her name a few feet behind her, "Dad, what have I done?"
"Miss Sato," the man in red uniform said again, "I cannot return you to your friend the Avatar in this state. Please regain your composure."
His voice finally caught her attention. She looked wildly up, eyes whitening, a lock of hair falling over her face.
Red coat. Golden eyes. Mother's killer. Father's enemy.
She released a garbled scream, charging towards him. Her electric glove hummed as it charged with fresh static.
Two uniformed guards came out of nowhere, shouting and exclaiming for the man to, "Get back, General!" Without a moment of hesitation, she used one of the guard's bodies as a human catapult, pulling herself by his shoulders over his head and into the air above the "General," her hand open and aimed to capture his face in a deathly embrace.
The Fire Nation soldier didn't flinch once. Holding out one hand to call back his men, he used the other to grab her wrist, taking the blazing current of the device head-on. Asami watched in slow motion as electricity charged across the man's skin, and he made a motion as if to draw all its power into his stomach.
She recognized the technique from her self-defense training, an advanced firebending move that redirected electricity to rebound back against an opponent. If she were exposed to that level of voltage, she would have no chance of surviving.
She held her breath and closed her eyes, expecting the end. Wanting the end. She didn't want to have to face the families of the men she killed. To be the same as her mother's murder. To hear again and again, "Well, I suppose Hiroshi had what was coming to him after dealing with those terrorists." To be alone in mourning for her father. To face Mako with his arm around Korra. To see the naïve judgment in Korra's eyes.
But the fatal moment never came. She dared to open one eye, just in time to see the stranger's hair flicker with electricity as he pointed two fingers to the sky. The charge circulating through his body exited out his fingertips, producing a shattering bolt of lightning that seared the heavens. The following peals of thunder were strong enough to rattle Asami's teeth.
Taking a moment to smooth his helplessly disheveled hair (Iroh hated it when his hair was out of place), he removed Asami's weapon as gracefully as if it were an elbow-length evening glove, and he was a prince bowing to kiss a princess's hand.
"Now that we can talk like civilized people, Miss Sato," he said, looking down his nose at the grief-stricken girl, "perhaps you can explain why you attempted to electrocute my face?"
A.N. Yes, my headcanon General Iroh speaks like a Victorian gentleman. Like it? Love it? Want some more of it? Then please review!