After the end of what would go down in history as the Avatar Wars, that had ended with the sound defeat of the Fire Nation and the celebration of the return of the Avatar, there had to be peace talks. It did not matter that there was a new king in the Fire Nation, or that everyone was completely done with everything even remotely considered a bit of a spat, never mind war. There had to be peace talks. And official documents, signed by the rulers of all nations.

Therefore, King Zuko of the Fire Nation and Queen Katara of the Water Nation (who was still looking around in bewilderment whenever someone addressed her as 'your majesty') met on a tiny Earth Nation island more or less in the middle of nowhere, of no interest to anyone except for the monks and sheep who lived there. On the middle of the island there was a temple to a God whose name nobody remembered apart from the monks, (but they had taken vows of silence and thus were not telling), and in that temple a table had been set up for the King and Queen to sit and talk. Well, they were referred to as peace talks, but there wasn't really much in the way of peace in the chamber within which they were held. There should have been four of them, really, but nobody would ever dream of attempting to negotiate with the representative of the Air Nation due to him being the Avatar. King Bumi of Earth Nation had sent his excuses, but due to a nasty case of dementia he was unable to attend. That left Katara alone to navigate through the minefield disguised as diplomacy. Without a map, but with an excellent blindfold.

Queen Katara of Water Nation, for the day dressed in a blue silk gown embroidered in silver and expensive enough to feed the entire South Pole Tribe for a week, crossed her arms and scowled at Zuko. The crossing of her arms were highly effective, as she caused quite a racket with the gesture. This was due to the fact that she was bogged down with enough sapphires and pearls to make her jingle like a well-stuffed coin purse every time she moved. She felt ridiculous in her get-up, but there was no reasoning with her ladies in waiting when they got a chance to show off their queen. And she had tried.

Katara's scowl was of the sort that would have made a lesser man wet his pants and cry for his mother, but Zuko merely leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow in a haughty manner. As if that was not bad enough, he then proceeded in leaning back in his high-backed chair like a fairy tale king on a exceptionally comfortable settee. He was dressed in dark trousers that fit his body as if painted on, heavy black boots that whispered of their suitability for battle, and a shirt as red as a burning house. The shirt was made in some sort of soft, slinky fabric that seemed to ripple like water when he moved, and moulded itself to his well defined muscles. On his smooth head, the heavy fire nation crown glinted with gold and rubies. He looked like a tyrant of old about to reprimand a refracting liege. It gave Katara the urge to force him to eat his quill.

Bad enough that he made her bend to his will with his short temper, and his constant demands for breaks during which he stalked out of the chamber like a primadonna displeased with the brand of champagne and insisting the florist had delivered the wrong coloured roses. Now he was refusing to sign the treaty!

"What's wrong with it?" Katara finally asked in an exasperated tone, gesturing - and jingling - to the document she had already signed. The day was warm, the hour was late, and Katara was more than ready to take off her elegant, impractical shoes and get trashed by Toph while playing dice. Preferably while drinking a gallon of that sweet, cold tea the monks refused to give her the recipe to.

"I refuse to sign it." Zuko replied in a blunt tone as he wiped at the beads of sweat shining on his brow. Katara gaped at him in shock.

"Are you telling me," she said incredulously, "that you refuse to sign the peace treaty we've spent two weeks perfecting down to the smallest of details? Why not, for the avatar's sake?" Once again her fingers twitched with the urge to make the wine in the goblet by his left elbow jump up and pour itself over his head. It was an urge she had felt many times in the last few days.

"There is a condition that must be met before I will sign." Zuko said, a small smirk twisting his face as he fanned himself with an elegant ostrich feather fan that probably cost as much as Katara's shoes.

"And what is that?" Katara replied, exasperated.

"I will sign it right before I marry Sokka. No wedding, no treaty. The decision is yours, your Majesty." Katara's hands clenched beneath her ornate sleeves. How dared he demand her brother like a- a piece of meat?! But he had her by her proverbial throat, and they both knew it. The Fire Nation still, even after all the battles in the last few years, had the greatest army. In its' harbours, there were hundreds upon hundreds of ships whom at a moment's notice could be filled with thousands upon thousands of firebenders, ready to do battle. The water nation could not stand against another assault of such magnitude. Neither could what was left of the once proud earth nation. They were grovelling before Zuko's feet, and both she and King Bumi knew this. What he wanted, they had no choice but to wrap up, tie a nice bow on, and hand over with congratulations. Probably while singing his praises.

"I will need to think about this." Katara said, although they both knew that she was stalling for time.

"Of course" Zuko replied grandly. He could afford to be grand; he had won. "Shall we meet again tomorrow, just after lunch? I am needed for some bending instruction in the morning, I'm afraid." She saw the threat for just what it was; a threat. He had brought one hundred firebenders to this meeting. She had only the bare minimum of soldiers. And out of those, only she could bend with any skill. If the Fire King wanted to, he could kill them all and she would be helpless to stop it.

"Of course, your Majesty." She curtsied, and quickly left the temple. She had several copies of the treaty in her room, so she saw no reason to take it with her. She pretended not to see the smug look in his dark eyes, and kept her head high as she left. I am a queen, she reminded herself sternly. I do not scurry like a commoner.


"Polar bears eat that bastard!" Katara shrieked as she threw her crown in the general direction of a very beautiful ornate vase. She missed by several feet, but her point got across. She flung herself onto the nearest sofa, scowling.

"What is it this time?" Aang asked from where he was lounging by the drinking fountain with a glass of that delicious sweet tea in his hand. He was dressed in a loose, flowy robe of the kind the local monks wore, and with his lazy pose he gave the impression of having spent a glorious day having done absolutely nothing. Katara felt more than a little envious, for this was not the first time during their stay that she stormed in and threw her crown at something. Usually fuming over some sort of allowance Zuko had pressured her into making.

Katara kicked off her shoes, barely noticing the relief in her toes as she seethed. Then she opened her mouth and let out a pretty decent imitation of a pissed off banshee.

"That egocentric, uptight, snooty, haughty, self-obsessed madman won't sign the treaty!"

Aang looked confused.

"The treaty you've worked on for two weeks? Why not?"

"He says he won't sign it unless I agree to let him marry Sokka!" Katara shrieked, sounding even more like a banshee.

"I'm sorry" Aang said as he slowly put down his glass. "Did you say he wants to marry Sokka?"

"Yes, I said that!" Katara scowled at him, but Aang was used to her scowling at this point and was about as intimidated as Zuko had been. That was, not at all.

"I thought he preferred women" was his only comment. Katara tried her glare again.

"Aang, you are not helping!"

"Sorry" he actually sounded apologetic, too. "What are you planning to do?"

Katara groaned in despair, her anger draining out of her like the water from a badly dug well.

"Well, that's the crack in the ice, isn't it?" She asked, as she looked up at the ceiling, stretching her aching neck. Then she looked over at Aang.

"Please tell me there is more of that tea" she begged, "I'm too parched to think."