A/N: After two months of complete silence, I am finally back! :) This little something has been on the edges of my mind for weeks, but I only sketched it down last night, and wrote it today – and I am pretty proud of how it turned out.
I plan to make it into a series of connected one-shots. I already have one more story for this planned (as well as a lemony Makorra one-shot), and after that, we will see :) It also fits into my headcannon, where most of my Zutara stories happen. It's actually kind of a prelude to Wedding of the Century, if you will :)
Rating: K+ (for now)
Word Count: 2319
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you that I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender]

Taking the delicate china cup into his hands as gently as he could, Hakoda was still afraid he would crack it.

He was not used to… this. This grandeur, this wealth he had met in the Fire Nation palace during the last few days he had spent there as a guest for Fire Lord Zuko's coronation. He lived in the South Pole his whole life, surrounded by snow and cold and the harshness of life, and then he spent almost three years practically living on a ship, fighting a war. He was accustomed to tend to himself, to survive; to coarse materials and the rugged metal of his weapons. Here, in the palace, the servants looking out for his every wish, the silks, the rich foods, the smoothness in everything, even in the courtiers' manners felt strange. And not really comfortable.

He was glad it was almost over and he – alongside with his children – would be sailing out in three days. He would go home, to a peaceful life full of promises.

But just as he had thought everything, every celebration, formal function and parade were over, and the only thing he had to worry about was to stock his ships fully, general Iroh requested – no, asked – him to have tea with him.

In itself, it was no strange thing. In the Southern Water Tribe, drinking tea was not really in fashion – mostly because it was a real luxury, something that was hard to attain during the time of war -, but here, in the Fire Nation, no day could have gone without a cup or two. Especially not in the company of Iroh.

No, it was the manner Iroh had asked him that unnerved Hakoda. Like it bore some kind of great significance, like this pot of tea they were to share would change lives. Like he wanted to talk about something important.

Hakoda took a sip of his tea. It was way too sweet, had way too much honey in it for his taste.

Were they in the South Pole, were they to discuss something important, he would have offered Iroh arctic wine. Or at least something stronger than tea.

"I hope you find the tea to your liking," Iroh said, placing his own cup on the low table between them. "It's my own blend. Ad I am not one to brag, but the people seemed to love it in Ba Sing Se"

Small talk. Hakoda hated small talk. In his life, where almost everything was about life and death, where everything was about if he could protect his family, if he could put food on their table, there was no time for beating around the bush.

But there was, apparently, in the Fire Nation.

"It's… nice," was all he said. He put down his cup, too, still half-filled, the surface of the liquid shaking a little. "Really, it is. It is just… It is about more than just tea, isn't it?"

Straight to the point. Just as he liked.

Iroh straightened his spine, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Yes, yes of course," he picked up the pot, and poured again, both for Hakoda and himself, holding his sleeve back carefully. "I am not exactly familiar with the Water Tribe customs," he started, his gaze still fixed on the cups. "But in the Fire Nation, when a young man expresses his desire to marry a girl, it's up to his father to ask for the girl's hand from her father." By the time he finished he was looking at his companion, smiling unashamedly.

He didn't have to say anything else. Hakoda already knew what was going on.

Katara – his little Katara, who was still just a child – and Zuko, his daughter and the new Fire Lord, they were together, for weeks, maybe for even months. He didn't know when this thing between them had started – sometime between the time he had been separated from his children when Azula had attacked them at the Western Air Temple and the arrival Sozin's Comet. They were in love, he guessed. They weren't over the top about it, at least not in company – a brush of hands here, a stolen glance there. Secret smiles. He also knew they met 'secretly' in the gardens during the nights; just to be together, just to cuddle up to another. Like all young people did when they thought they were in love.

But up until now… up until now he had thought that it was just a little crush, something young people always have, something he used to have when he was their age, something that would go away with time they spent apart, something he wasn't at all worried about, but now…

"Since my brother obviously can't fulfill his duty as a father now, my nephew has asked me-"

"No."

Hakoda didn't let him finish the sentence. No. That was the only thing, the only word that came to his mind.

"No?" Echoed Iroh, a little bit taken aback.

"No. She is… Katara is too young." She was only fifteen; not even old enough to be betrothed. "I don't know about Fire Nation standards, but our women are not eligible for marriage before they are sixteen."

Iroh leaned back in his seat.

"Oh, this shouldn't cause any problems. How long is that until she turns sixteen? A few months, right?" That small, irritating, joyous smile found its way back to his face.

"Six," Hakoda said through his teeth. How he wished he could have said more! But no – in mere six months, Katara would turn sixteen. Practically, according to his tribe's customs, she would be an adult.

"That's excellent," Iroh beamed, taking a sip of his tea. "That much time would be sufficient for my nephew to strengthen his hold on the throne. In six months, I assume, he would have enough control over the council to make them accept Miss Katara as his bride. Until then, your word and your blessing, which I can forward to my nephew, would be enough. We can make it official when she comes of age." He finished, setting his cup down and offering his hand for a water Tribe-style handshake to Hakoda.

The chief just looked at him, desperately trying to find some objection, any objection, why this marriage shouldn't take place, not yet, not now.

"No… I-I can't. Her dowry isn't ready."

In the Water Tribes, it was the bride's responsibility to bring everything that was needed to run a household to the marriage: pelts, bed sheets, bowls and cups and utensils, skins to make clothes of, even a crib. It took years to put everything together, and Katara, her mother dead, her father away, almost the whole world on her shoulders, was terribly behind in getting her dowry together.

"I-I can't let her marry, not without it. How could she…" He stopped mid-sentence, his will bending under Iroh's gaze, telling him without words that he was missing something.

Pelts and skins and bowls would be needed at the South Pole, where she would start from nothing with her new husband, where everything was harsh and cold and where she would have to do anything herself, but in the Fire Nation capital? As the wife of the Fire Lord, as the Fire Lady? With servants and cooks and seamstresses at hand, they would be as much use to her just as a bowl of komodo chicken to an Air Nomad.

He turned his eyes down, fixating them on the delicate china cup in his hands, slowly turning it around, inspecting the gilded edges, the amber liquid inside swishing from side to side.

"He really loves her, doesn't he? I mean Zuko – he really loves my daughter? It's not just a… a fool's decision, or a political play?" He didn't even look at Iroh.

The older man took a moment to consider his words.

"My nephew sure is a man of rash decisions, somebody who tends to act first, think only later, but… what does a rational mind worth when it comes to love?" Hakoda could actually hear the smile in the general's voice. A smile and something as close to fatherly pride as an uncle can get. "Zuko, no matter what he has been through in his short life – or, maybe, exactly because of it – yearns for love: to love and to be loved. And he has found it in your daughter. He would be a fool to let it go." He took a breath. "So, to answer your question honestly, yes. He really does love Katara."

Hakoda still didn't turn his gaze from the cup. So that was it: not a joke, not a game, not a ploy to gain more power.

His daughter and the Fire Lord were really in love.

Then what could he do about it?

It's not just it would be unfit for a father to balk his daughter's happiness, but he also knew Katara – if this was what she really wanted, she would get it, no matter what he said. He chuckled to himself somewhat sadly. Katara was strong, independent, a warrior. So much like her mother.

And anyway, what had he thought? That he could marry her off in the South Pole? That she would be always so close by? Thinking about it, really thinking about it now, he knew that it was foolish to think that. There was nobody in the Southern Water tribe who was worthy of her. No young man smart enough, strong enough, kind enough.

And then what would she do all her life in the snow, anyway? There was a hope for his tribe now, a hope for a better future, a future resembling what the tribe had been decades ago, before the Fire Nation raids, but it wouldn't be enough, not for Katara. She had already seen the world – it was all hers, all the wonders and faults. How would she be content to leave all that behind and go back to an igloo where she could never be much more than a housewife?

And if she couldn't marry in their own tribe, then what? Would he send her to the North Pole? She could find a boy of a good family there for sure. Somebody who is equal in rank to her. But would she be happy? Hakoda doubted. He still remembered too clearly of that obnoxious boy who had been supposed to marry Arnook's late daughter. The thought of seeing somebody like him with Katara made him cringe.

What did it left? There was that earthbender boy, Haru, who he knew liked Katara, but even if she returned his feelings – which she did not, Hakoda was sure of that -, he couldn't have provided her anything that the men in their tribe couldn't. And then there was Aang – Aang, that sweet child, who was so smitten with his daughter, but somehow, Hakoda could never take his feelings for Katara seriously. The Avatar was still a child; too young to really understand, to really feel the kind of love that led to a lifetime spent together.

In the end, everything came back to Zuko. Suddenly, Hakoda saw all the fleeting glances and the unsure touches in a brand new light. What he had written off as a crush, a soon-to-be-memory feeling, was suddenly true affection. Something so deep he could just hope to understand. Something similar to what he had used to share with Kya.

It was not his place to stand in their way, he decided. If they wanted to get married in a few months, a year from now, they should do it, even if he felt like it was rushed. If it meant that his daughter would be happy, he would stand aside, and let her be happy.

He finally raised his head and looked at Iroh, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand.

"All right," he said, proud that his voice didn't crack. "If this is what Katara really wants, then my blessing is theirs. You have my word – Fire Lord Zuko can have the hand of my daughter."

Iroh's face softened; he looked amused all along their conversation, but now how looked absolutely overjoyed.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, offering his hand again to Hakoda. "You can't even imagine what a joy you have just brought to this old man and my nephew."

Hakoda took the arm offered to him, gripping Iroh's forearm.

"But I have a condition for your nephew, Iroh," Hakoda continued as he let go of the older man's hand. "You might have my blessing – but ultimately, it's Katara's decision. Don't let your nephew think that he's off the hook. If he really wants to marry my daughter, he has to ask her himself. Betrothal gift, awkward speech, all that fanfare. Getting down on one knee if necessary."

"Would she need a necklace, just like the one she wears now?" Iroh caught on quickly, apparently enjoying their little newfound conspiracy.

Hakoda considered this for a moment; people hadn't used betrothal necklaces in his tribe in decades, but it was the time of rebirth. Then why should he?

"Yes, that would be great. And maybe even something you people give for engagements here." He was getting bold, he knew that, but he didn't care. It was the least one should expect when one of the world's powerful men was asking for his daughter's hand.

Iroh let out a good hearted laugh, feeling very much in his element.

"I will make sure to forward your criteria to my nephew," he chuckled. "Now, to celebrate the bond soon to take place between our families – would you like some more tea?" He reached for the pot.

Hakoda shook his head.

"No, thank you. But if you happened to have something stronger – I would be really glad to share some of that with you."

The next time: Ursa and Katara