Chapter Three
The chamber was an elegant room in the traditional style, pillared and bedecked with fluttering banners. A pair of heavily studded doors marked an entranceway flanked by robed guards, and at the heart of the space, there was a raised dais upon which were arranged two thrones.
A forbidding youth lounged on the leftmost throne, an obelisk of lacquered oak draped in red fabric. Above his head, at the pinnacle of the rising wood, the chair was crowned with the symbol of his state: the curling flame.
Zuko listened with half attention to the rambling man before the platform with its twin seats, waxing on about some triviality or another as he had for the past half-hour. Unconsciously, he hunched a little further in his reclined position, knuckles digging into his cheek, though he took care to keep his face smooth and regal.
With an effort, he kept his sigh inward.
The throne room looked different than it had in all the days of Zuko's memory. Since at the moment it was being shared as the seat of power for both the Fire Nation and the Avatar – representative of all the world's peoples – most of the crimson tapestries had been removed in favor of a more varied array of earth tones, saffron yellows, and deep, cool blues.
His father had wreathed the area round his throne in unapproachable fire. Now only the smooth floor showed and the two rulers sat in chairs accessible to any visitor. Soft music played in the background, further reducing any menace their position might have held.
It suited the Avatar well.
Zuko's gaze flicked sideways, monitoring the younger boy from the periphery of his vision. Aang was gently tapping his heels against the base of his seat, leaning forward as though in great attentiveness. Zuko, of course, knew better. By the somewhat sleepy expression on the boy's cheerful face, it seemed clear that his mind had wandered.
He cleared his throat warningly and Aang stirred, blinking. When he noticed the fire-bender's gaze, he offered helpless smile, and the former prince had to fight for patience. He reminded himself that the young Avatar was doing his best, but he'd been raised in a monastery, not in an anteroom.
Before them, a jade-robed ambassador stood expectantly, waiting for their response to his request. Aang fidgeted, obviously unsure how to proceed. Zuko took mercy on him.
Drawing up his hand, the Fire Lord instantly quieted all sound in the room. "The Avatar and the Fire Nation appreciate your interest in the successful reconstruction of the world order. Your considerations have been noted."
A gracious gesture of his hand and the simpering dignitary dropped into an appropriately low bow, seemingly satisfied. "The Orlok Bei Li thanks you for your audience," he responded. "He shall await your response eagerly."
But not too eagerly. The man backed away, scurrying towards the door in a shuffling walk particular to administrators of his kind. Zuko was glad to see him go. Like too many of those gathered here, his request had been verbose and waxy with insincerity.
As the space before them cleared, Aang sagged a little with relief, even now unused to such formalities and affectations. Authority simply did not sit well on his face, which was still rounded and open, even if the war had aged it somewhat.
Gratefully, he flashed Zuko a tired grin. "Thanks," he whispered.
Meanwhile, another supplicant had reached the base of the dais. He was dressed finely in shades of rich russet red, and the knot in his hair was topped with a split-silver flame that identified him as one of the Fire Nation's minor nobility. Broad-shouldered, dark and tall, he cut an impressive looming figure – but with the lean, tapered physique of a trained warrior. Slanted charcoal eyes seemed to take in both of the young rulers shrewdly. He bowed.
Something about this man ruffled Zuko, as though lightning had drawn up the hairs on his arms. Carefully disciplining his face, he sought his most stern, authoritative voice when he said, "Speak."
"My Lord Zuko," the man began in a measured tone that made Zuko think of smooth dragon scales or warm marble. "Long have my people defended the Northern corner of your realm. Our sons once filled the ranks of Fire Nation armies, but in these late days many have not returned. Now their mothers are weeping, and their fathers grow restless."
An eloquent, deleterious man, Zuko judged, and his eyes narrowed. He did not like this person, though when he tried to discern exactly why, he found he couldn't. Drawing himself up to his fullest height, Zuko asked, "Who are you?"
The man answered, "I am Gouzhi, of your northwestern cantrev. We are an independent people, but ever loyal. Yet we are also men whose faith is in tested metal and long burning flame. This sudden setting of two young – noble, wise, and no doubt valiant – but young, young men has left many disquieted. Some doubt the strength of this youthful throne, and now their spears have begun to rattle even louder than my voice of reason and order."
To hear such words spoken so boldly deeply unsettled Zuko. He challenged, "You speak of treason."
"Me?" Gouzhi denied the accusation, as though in great bewilderment. "Never, my Lord. My house has been faithful to yours for generations."
Yet even as his cultured voice told tales of devotion, his dark eyes glinted, hinting at a more dangerous adversary than even such thinly veined mockery indicated. There was a sword under this sheet.
He finished, "I merely state facts so that solutions may be found."
Zuko sat back on his throne, struggling to keep his uneasiness from showing. Beside him, Aang shifted under the weight of this man's smoldering gaze. Glowering, Zuko asked, "Why are you here?"
"For the good of your rule, I assure you. Long and hard have I thought over the unrest that your Lordship's ascension has brought to our nation." Zuko twitched, involuntarily stung, though if he noticed Gouzhi made no outward sign. Smoothing his distinguished goatee, the noble pondered aloud, "I thought, how might a bold young ruler prove that age does not limit great cunning and skill?"
Zuko did not like where this might be heading. "I have nothing to prove to anyone."
"Certainly," Gouzhi agreed readily, but the danger was welling up again in his eyes like a gathering storm. "And yet, there is much that might be gained from a little conciliation, Lord Zuko."
The entire court – only a small number today – stood frozen in wordless anticipation. It was Aang that broke the suspended silence. Sounding puzzled, he said, "I don't understand. What do you want Zuko to do?"
The look that Gouzhi gave the Avatar in that moment was almost pitying, but it quickly redirected to stare directly at Zuko. This man was challenging him.
"I am growing very tired of this audience," Zuko issued a warning of his own, bristling. "Speak your intentions plainly or not at all." He made as though to gesture for the ever present guards, but Gouzhi seemed finished with his machinations.
"One understands that a leader cannot traipse around the Nation putting on shows of ability before those he rules," the nobleman said. "However, you might be represented – by another, also bold and young." He paused meaningfully, and when he spoke again it was like a narrow hiss. "It would do much to convince me."
Tribute. So the man came looking to gain something for a promised allegiance. It was shrewd, but not entirely unexpected. Many of those that he and the Avatar had seen in these last days had come to ask, more or less subtly, for similar assurances.
Yet Zuko sensed something different here, more sinister. This man had something particular in mind. "What might…convince you, then?" Zuko sneered.
Gouzhi's hands clinched briefly around the sleeves of his cloak, the first expression of visible agitation he had shown. However, he kept his composure, saying, "In the days of celebration after the fall of Fire Lord Ozai, I happened to be present in the capital and attended some of the festivities. There was a veritable carnival of skill represented – earth and water bending, weapons masters; a clamor of demonstrations."
Zuko remembered those days with mixed feelings. He'd reveled in the attainment of their ultimate goal and in what he considered the rebirth of the Fire Nation, his home. But he had also been struggling with the imprisonment of his father, his sister's madness, and with new responsibilities and an uncertain future. Still, he had found some pleasure in the bright displays, which had included great exhibitions of talent.
Gouzhi spoke clearly. "Of all the performers, a particular young warrior came to my attention. I later came to know him as a retainer of yours, Fire Lord Zuko. A Southern Water tribesmen with a black sword."
"Sokka?" Aang asked, astonished into an outburst.
Similarly surprised, Zuko's eyes flicked automatically to the throne room's shadowed alcoves where the adolescent Water tribesmen usually took up his self-appointed place to pass his own judgment over the people and proceedings. Strangely, there was no hint of the keen azure eyes today. In his place stood another guardian, marked as they always were with the thread of blue.
Gouzhi tracked the direction of his gaze, and his lips drew back slowly. "Oh yes, I also noticed that he is oddly absent, since he rarely seems apart from your side. A pity." He pouted, and it was an oddly perverse look on his strong features. "I had been hoping I might see him again today."
Zuko's frown burrowed down to make a tight knot of anxiety in his stomach. What did this man want? Aang obviously had similar concerns. He objected, "But Sokka isn't a retainer of the Fire Nation."
"Oh?" the man's voice had lowered to a rasping curl. "There are those who believe differently."
"What do you want with him?" the Avatar wondered aloud before Zuko could growl the same question.
Gouzhi smiled at the boy. "Ah, such a warrior any leader would be pleased to have under their command. You have many followers, Avatar. As a gesture of good faith, give this one into my service."
"You…want Sokka to come work for you?" Aang seemed stunned that he would ask such a thing.
The man nodded, "As a member of my personal guard, yes. I was deeply impressed by the performance that I witnessed during the victory celebrations. Such skill should be put to good use. Let him represent you both with me in the northern cantrevs."
Aang did not even have time to stammer out a response.
"No." The word had escaped Zuko's mouth without thought, without consideration. He didn't have time to analyze the strange sensation that burned through him, but later he would find that it was premonition, fear. He stood, his hand slicing the air. "This audience is finished."
Gouzhi did not protest as the young Fire Lord thought he might, but instead arched his body once more, respectfully low at the waist. He said, "Very well. But I shall stay until the end of the week. By then I hope you will have reconsidered my offer."
"Go," Zuko bit off the monotone request.
Sensing his agitation, the guards at the back of the room shifted restlessly in their positions, glaring at the noble as he slowly pivoted and moved down the chamber. It wasn't until the tall man had exited and faded into the exterior halls that a measure of Zuko's tension eased, and even so much of it remained, tight behind his eyes.
"That was weird," the Avatar spoke from beside him. He didn't sound upset, only mildly bemused. "That someone would ask for Sokka like that."
Zuko grunted, trying to hide his uneasiness as he surveyed the murmuring room of low voices. Very likely, they were also discussing the audacious request.
Aang giggled, "What a scary guy, too. It was almost like he was threatening us."
It was in such times that Zuko sincerely, truly worried about the direction of the reconstruction, with so much dependent on the wisdom of this boy beside him. Aang was blinking at him now with his wide grey eyes, which grew troubled as they picked up on his dark mood.
"Zuko," he asked. "Do you really think we're in trouble? So many of them say stuff like. But the war just ended, do you really think – "
He sounded afraid, and just in that moment the fire-bender wanted to clout him. "The northern cantrev of the Fire Nation is a knot of warriors," Zuko disillusioned him.
Aang become visibly upset. "Then, we have to listen to him? He could really hurt us?" It was as though he had already forgotten just what Gouzhi had requested.
"No," Zuko said unequivocally. He reminded Aang, "You're the Avatar, and I'm the Fire Lord. This isn't a time to vacillate or appear weak."
"But if he's really so powerful," Aang began.
Zuko snarled, shaking his head. There wasn't time to discuss this now; the carpet drawn down the room was already occupied by another petitioner, this one a military leader from Ba Sing Se that the fire-bender dimly recognized as one of Kuei's former liaisons of war. He finished hurriedly, "Don't be a fool, Aang. This isn't a game."
Then the strong, simple words of the straightforward earth-bender filled the room and there was no more space for whispers. Zuko leaned back against his throne, glaring generally as he listened with half an ear.
The rest of his mind was on the audience he had just endured, the fear he'd heard in Aang's voice, and the only Southern Water tribesman he knew with a black sword.
