A/N: Thank you for all the follows, there is A LOT to choose from out there and appreciate you selecting my story. My first review appreciation award goes to my first reviewer, Moon our Witness! What joy, I appreciate it so much!
Disclaimer: While I adore Zutara, I must admit that I have no claim to Avatar the Last Airbender.
Katara is the last one to step out of the palanquin. Her eyes adjust to the bright sunshine. Far from the harbor and coal steamers, the air is cleaner. Flags bearers line the courtyard, holding flapping red banners embroidered with yellow dragons. The air is more alive and clearer at the highest point of Imperial City. Breezes snap and crack the ceremonial flags into rippling waves. The wind is almost dancing across to Katara. It dips and whirls, lifting her braid up and down against her back. She hurries to stand next to her father and brother.
Soldiers stand side-by-side in front of the palace's balcony, creating a rigid barrier. Steps rise up on either side to form the higher platform, where the royal family stands in the pecking order of superiority. Katara curtsies a modest bob to indicate the royal family's greater status. The male members wear formal military uniforms, while the women are corseted into elegant gowns. Lace collars decorate their blouse fronts and rise up to their necks; satin skirts fall from impossibly tiny waists, pooling upon the ground. The noble ladies' ebony hair is elaborately twisted into sophisticated coifs and crowned with jaunty hats angled upon their heads.
Katara drops her gaze to her shapeless dress. The soft blue material is practical for traveling, as well as moving freely beneath layers of furs, but it is obviously plain and unfashionable. Feeling suddenly conspicuous, she clutches her hands in hopes of hiding her shift.
Gran Gran's voice admonishes her. "Vanity, Katara dear, will only make you ugly. Enjoy life, and your true beauty will emerge." Katara straightens her shoulders and stands proudly facing the royal family. She will exude the confidence that her stature brings by being a proper Southern Water tribe lady.
The whole breadth of nobility has hardly stirred from their places of rank. No one has acknowledged Hakoda, Sokka, and Katara's presences. The ostrich-llama plumes on the women's hats ruffling in the wind are the sole indication that the assemblage is more than replicated statues of the royal family.
Katara can distinguish the various members, mentally identifying their names. Provinces are kept informed about the Imperial family through official announcements. Press blurbs and magazine articles manage to drift out to the Southern Water Tribe, though typically months after any of the events have occurred. Most of the reports from Imperial City were broadcasted via the official radio station, receiving that information was dependent upon whether arctic storms interrupted the signals. Since six months of the year the fierce storms rage, information was mostly sporadic.
The most recognizable face from the royal family is that of Prince Zuko. Tales of his disfigurement had been regaled in horrific details. Journalists had speculated upon what witchery had been involved for Prince Zuko to even survive his extensive injuries. Each kingdom was issued a mandate, requiring them to make daily offerings until the prince was fully recovered. As a ranking female in their noble family, Katara was required to administer the oblations. She watched bitterly as the flames engulfed their villages' precious winter supplies. As she saw perfectly good food vanish into smoke ribbons, she prayed for Prince Zuko's death or recovery. Either result would have little effect upon her emotionally; the culmination of one would finally cease the other's wasteful sacrifices.
The palace is a worthy background to the noble line of family members. Arched windows stretch the length of the massive building which wraps around the three sides of the cobblestone courtyard. White marble decorates the facade of the official residence, inset of the main building are three arched doorways whose bronze doors bear the reliefs of twisting dragons. On the multiple red roofs are jeweled accents, the architecture brush strokes are repeated golden touches on the cornices and numerous overhangs. These adornments highlight the palace's compound predominant motif, including down to the cobblestone courtyard. Gold pavers spiral into a pictorial form of the royal dragon crest.
Katara looks down at her soft leather shoes. She is standing upon the dragon's iris. The angle of the light makes the eye glitter, giving the fire breathing figure a sense of being alive. An aura of unease envelopes Katara, reminding her that she isn't safe within her igloo home, she is in a foreign land with alien ways. Stepping off of the dragon's eye, Katara looks to the platform.
The soldiers have unsheathed their swords from their scabbards. The silver blades are held upwards in front of their faces. It is the signal for Crown Prince Iroh. He steps backwards and turns a quarter turn, moving toward the right staircase. Iroh's son, Lu Ten, shortly imitates his father's exact movements, following behind his father. Striding down the steps, both men are dressed in the same black jackets and breeches. Brass buttons mimic the same shape of the red v-shaped breast fronts. The Crown Prince has more elaborate ranking regalia, from the elongated dangling fringe of his epaulets to the stacked columns of chevrons that denote his prestige as Imperial Army General.
Iroh and Lu Ten reach the bottom of the steps. The soldiers and flag bears, blocking access to the staircases, part and allow the two princes to pass through a makeshift opening. The formal guard then resumes their previous stances, closing the momentary gateway. Iroh and Lu Ten approach the Southern Water Tribe's representatives. As the two princes cross the courtyard, their shiny boots have a steady tread against the pavers.
Standing in front of Hakoda, Iroh clicks his heels together and then bows briefly. "Noble Chief of the Southern Water tribe, on behalf of Imperial Emperor and Sovereign Fire Lord, Azulon, my son, Prince Lu Ten, and I welcome you to the palace and Imperial City."
Hakoda returns the bow. Out of the whole viper nest of a royal family, the only one Hakoda considers worthy of his titles, Prince and General, is Iroh. Hakoda rises from his sign of respect and replies with a less guarded response, though still laced with the required ceremony. "Thank you, Crown Prince and General of the Imperial Army, my family appreciates you extending your welcome to us."
Iroh makes a show of glancing around at the otherwise empty courtyard. "Where is the rest of your retinue?"
Hakoda relaxes some of his tension. Iroh has a way of making sure guests feel at ease and welcome, not only by his words but by his whole demeanor. "It will only be my family staying at the palace during tribute time. My crew will remain upon my ship."
Are these your children?" Iroh smiles upon Sokka and Katara.
"Yes, this is Sokka and Katara."
As Sokka waited behind his father and through the boring ceremonial proceedings, he was occupied with a way of devising how to possess his own vehicle. The main reason that he encountered a car taunted him with the futility of his efforts to obtain one; and yet, his desire could not be tempered. Sokka and his friends had poured over glimpses and descriptions of automobiles in books, advertisements, and one catalog which promised delivery no matter how far flung the destination; but Sokka had never seen a fully animated car until the arrival of the palanquin. He was besotted. Joo Dee's creepy toothy smile might have diverted him momentarily from his infatuation, but Sokka had quickly resumed his quest on calculating how long it would take him to afford his own car. His conclusion resulted in the scale not weighing favorably for him. Even with a hefty catch of tuna-sturgeon, it would take a year to equal a potential down payment for a vehicle.
Hakoda's mention of his son's name and Katara's poke in her brother's back triggered Sokka to focus upon the older gentleman with a silver beard and his younger son. He couldn't recall their names. They were important by the medals that especially decorated the older man's chest, but keeping up with the royal family fell into two categories: boring and girlie, both of which did not employ Sokka's interest. Back to the firm terrain of reality and his duty, he assumes his station as the Southern tribe's second-in-command. Taking turns stepping forward, Sokka and Katara perform their proper respects.
The crown prince extends an open invitation to Hakoda. "If you should change your mind and would like your crew to join us, there is plenty of room at the palace." Iroh strokes his trimmed beard. "Though if I recall, Southern Water ships are quite comfortable. I once spent a very pleasant night under the vast stars, sleeping on the deck of one."
Hakoda seizes upon the crown prince's anecdote as a means to turn the tide of the water tribes diminishing financial resources. "Our tribe was disheartened when we lost the Imperial Naval contract."
Iroh's jovial expression hardens. "Yes, I disagreed with that decision, but I have little influence over that division. Archduke Ozai presides over that committee."
Hakoda eyes flit to the platform, where Ozai stands next to his wife, Ursa. The archduke emanates conceit even at a distance. "Yes, I remember well." Hakoda conceals his anger over how Ozai had belittled the southern ships for being inferior in battle, even though his fleet had bested all the other representatives during the naval contract exercises.
"Perhaps, we can discuss over tea in my private quarters, how I could personally commission a ship." Iroh turns on his heels. He pauses and signals with his head for the Southern Water tribe's chief to fall in step. Both men walk side-by-side, while Sokka follows closely behind his father.
As Katara gathers her dress to join her father and brother, Lu Ten bows briefly and then holds out the crook of his arm. "Lady Katara, if I may be so privileged to escort you?"
"Thank you, Prince Lu Ten that is most kind of you." Katara threads her arm through the prince's.
Lu Ten leads Katara across the courtyard. "The apartments your family will be residing in should be to your liking. The royal steward has taken great care to ensure your comfort."
"I'm sure the rooms will be fine." Katara tries to not reveal her nervousness of having to conduct idle chatter with a prince, slyly looking up at him, a very handsome prince, too. Lu Ten's face is angled toward a strong chin with a faint hint of a cleft. Well shaped sideburns match his thick, dark hair. She swallows, feeling a small quiver of girlish awe descend upon her.
"The palace is quite beautiful," Katara swallows her inane attempt at small talk, and her statement dribbles out in almost a whisper.
"Beautiful, yes," Lu Ten looks about him, as if seeing the place with fresh eyes. "Beauty fades upon the frost of winter, but never leaves the seed. A kernel of truth is held in the palm and grows again into a beautiful sight."
"That is lovely," Katara stares up at the man. "Did you compose that poem?"
"No, my father dabbles in poetry. It is one of his own."
"Do you write poetry yourself?"
"I'm more musically inclined. I play the Erhu." Lu Ten eyes a song bird rising and dipping in the late afternoon light. He points with his head to the bird in flight. "It sings like a sparrowkeet, but only when the bow strikes and then wings off in flight." Lu Ten laughs at Katara's obvious expression of awe. "Again, my father's poems, you will find him often quoting or whistling in the hallways of the palace."
Katara and Lu Ten have climbed the stairs and stand ready for the formal introductions. Iroh goes through the repetitious pedigree of the royal family members, which repeats a rhythm of back and forth expected protocol. Lu Ten's wife, Duchess Narumi is a slender reed, almost ready to drift away with a gentle breeze. She smiles her greeting to the southern tribe representatives. Lu Ten reaches out and rubs his wife's arm with a questioning gesture. Staring lovingly into her husband's eyes, she smiles reassuringly. Lu Ten drops his hand and steps away, but concern is still upon his face. When Azula is addressed, she swings her head toward the water tribe family and deigns a modicum of acknowledgement. Moving her eyes up and down Katara's blue dress, Azula raises an eyebrow and makes a poor job of hiding her mockery of the inferior garment. A mumbled greeting is all she can generate for Hakoda and Sokka.
Next, Iroh reaches his nephew and proudly explains, "And this is Prince Zuko."
Zuko bows stiffly to the four people in front of him, "Uncle, Chief Hakoda, Sir Sokka, and Lady Katara."
Katara is careful to keep her eyes down and not openly stare at Zuko's scar. His left eye is severely pulled, creating a slat. His cheek has five deep scars raked across his eye socket and up his brow. The oblong scar makes his face appear unyielding. Even though he was perfectly respectful to Katara's family, the rasp of his voice created an abrupt tone to his words.
"Prince Zuko is Commander of the Warders. It is he and his men, alone, who protect our borders from the faceless ones." Iroh's eyes are soft with obvious pride.
Zuko is nonplussed and pushes away the praise. "Thank you, Uncle, but it is my honor that I'm allowed to serve the fire nation."
"No, it is the fire nation who is honored to have you." After Zuko bows his gratitude, Iroh moves onto Zuko and Azula's mother and father. "Archduchess Ursa and Archduke Ozai." The Crown Prince's voice fluctuates from endearing for Ursa to a harsher edge for Ozai.
Ursa beams at Sokka and Katara jointly. "It will be so good to have young people about the palace, especially for Zuko and Azula. The court can be rather stodgy. I welcome a breath of fresh air; your energy should lighten us with a bit of fun."
Ozai sighs with a flicker of boredom toward his wife. "Yes, fun is exactly what the court needs." He cocks his head with a slight sneer toward the Southern Water tribe's chief. 'If I may say, I found myself quite entertained during last year's naval competitions. A great day of sport, though ultimately, not a satisfying one for the Southern Water tribe."
Hakoda inwardly seethed, but volleyed back. "If I recall, the Southern Water tribe performed well. It takes an adept leader with a keen eye to notice the difference between empty flash and obvious substance. It is too bad that flash won that day." The chief is clearly stating that Ozai was an ineffectual judge to offer an opinion about naval exercises or anything which mattered.
Iroh liked Hakoda each time they had interactions; and at the moment, the Southern Water tribe chief had scored quite high in the crown prince's court of opinion. "Chief Hakoda, you have had a long journey and since you are two days ahead of schedule, you have some time to recoup, perhaps even enjoy the city? The lower town begins their merrymaking this evening." Iroh looks to Zuko. "Perhaps, Sir Sokka and Lady Katara would like to visit the tribute festival?"
Katara's excitement soars. It had been years since the Southern Water tribe had a large festival. The Winter Solstice, where days of ice sculpture, panda-penguin sledding rides, and lots of snowy ice cream were plentiful, had been shuttered. Celebrations couldn't be afforded when supplies were so few and precious.
Peering up at her father, Katara's blue eyes dance with musical remembrances. "Dad, may we please attend?"
Hakoda's heart tugs. He hates denying his daughter anything and this would be twice in one day, but he didn't trust the night. "I'm not comfortable with you being out in the city without proper supervision."
Katara clasps her hands together and blinks her long lashes over wide pooling blue eyes. "Sokka would be with me."
"Katara, we will discuss it later." Hakoda's caution laced with fatherly warning that it was improper to have a family discourse in front of strangers.
Sokka had been happy that Katara had mentioned her wanting to attend the festival. For his stomach, it would translate into potential delicacies to sample. He knew Katara had a particular sway over their father and would be more successful than he with any potential request. Not only did Hakoda refuse the sweet pleading and doe-lamb expression from his sister, but insinuated Sokka wouldn't be a capable chaperon. He was insulted and disappointed. Sokka's stomach concurred in rumbled agreement.
"If I may offer a suggestion, Chief Hakoda, Prince Zuko and Princess Azula could accompany your children to the festival." The looks of horror on all four young people's faces showed how much neither of them cared to be in each other's company.
Ursa touched Iroh's arm lovingly. "Iroh that is superb idea."
"Mother," Azula protested, "I don't think it would be a good idea for a Princess to be seen with peasants."
Peasants! Katara almost rears back. The insult was almost comical in its use at a formal setting, where manners overruled speaking frankly. If Azula was implying that a peasant was a decent, respectful person, who wouldn't insult someone to their face, then Katara was content with being referred to as a peasant.
Ozai smiles slyly at his daughter, "Ursa, Azula is correct. What would that say about the royal family?" Ozai turns to clarify to the Southern Water tribe chief, pretending he wasn't inferring his belief that the three foreigners were indeed peasants. "Chief Hakoda, of course, I obviously meant that if any royal family members were found wandering about in the lower city."
"Obviously that is what you meant." Hakoda said dryly, staring pointedly into the other man's calculating amber eyes. "What could it possibly imply when a leader is out among his people, taking an active interest in their lives, but if you find it more comfortable to stay within your safe compound, then that is your option as Archduke?" Hakoda stressed Ozai's title as a reminder that the archduke was an underling and far removed from ever obtaining the rites of an actual sovereign ruler.
Ursa's gentle features look sharply between her husband and daughter. "Ozai, I think it is paramount for the royal family to always exhibit grace and caring for their own people and guests." She bowed her head to Chief Hakoda, "Noble Chief Hakoda, I apologize if my daughter or husband has offended you in any way."
"Thank you, Archduchess Ursa, but I'm not offended." Hakoda isn't lying, for he would have to respect the people first, before he could consider their opinion dishonorable.
Sokka wanted to reach across and wrap his hands around Princess Azula's throat, and then slug her pompous father. The image of it made him almost grin and helped alleviate his anger. His father's clever way of besting Ozai made him almost shout: score one, water tribe; zero, fire nation, and then want to point at the sulky Archduke, loser!
Katara had already identified Azula and Ozai from afar as potential snakes lying in wait among the royal reeds; but after her brief interactions, her suspicions were undoubtedly confirmed. She glances at Zuko. He had been silent throughout the proceedings. His yellow eyes had carefully watched the interchanges. Katara thought his approach was the safest. She would be just as wary and guarded as Prince Zuko.
"I appreciate your suggestion, Crown Prince Iroh, but as you stated earlier, we have had a long day. It is best that we retire to our apartments."
"I understand." Iroh did comprehend the Southern Water chief's apprehension. Looking to his nephew, the Dragon of the West feels heavy hearted for Zuko. Holding up his hand in the warm air, Iroh flicks his fingers in a summing gesture. Joo Dee appears, almost prostrating herself in front of the crown prince. "Joo Dee, please lead Chief Hakoda and his children to their quarters." Iroh bows to the water tribe members, "I bid you all adieu."
The water tribe performs a befitting good-bye and follows Joo Dee toward the main entrance of the palace. The bronze gates are massive; but with a slight push from the sycophant guide, the doors open without hesitation. Closer inspection of the gates, Katara can see that the twisting dragons are dancing, wrapping their scaled bodies around each other. Flames of fire, breathed from outstretched jaws, drift up the door panels. It is a terrifying beauty to behold.
Joo Dee smartly refrains from small talk during the trek toward the guest quarters. The water tribe family is led through a labyrinth of passageways; vast hallways in successive order alternate in theme. One corridor is covered in portraits, another with floor to ceiling mirrors, and then a series of rooms with antique weaponry arranged in elaborate grids. The passageways are decorated with propaganda in mind, which clearly outlines the imperial monarchy's wealth and military might. Katara forgoes imprinting a mental map of the route and let's herself float along the passageways, taking in the visual elegance.
"We have arrived at your apartments." Joo Dee throws open the double doors. The water tribe family steps inside a large sitting area. "This is your main living room with connecting bedrooms. The porters have retrieved your luggage from the southern ship." The note of disparage about the southern vessel are well implied. "If you should need anything, like a tailor," Joo Dee looks to Katara, but then quickly averts her gaze. "There are call-pulls in each bedroom, as well as in here." She points across from her to a braided rope with tassel, dangling from the ceiling. Bowing curtly, Joo Dee backs away. "I leave you all to get settled." She closes the doors in front of her bent position.
Sokka stares at the door and strokes his go-tee. "Yes, I found Joo Dee delightful in a rather off putting way." He grins creepily, flashing a smile not quite as wide as the guide's.
"You will find most of the staff is rather…" Hakoda couldn't hide his grin at his son's proper summation, "off putting."
Blue patterned paper of saxifrage flowers covers the walls of the sitting room. The hearty blossoms are a favorite to the water tribe, as the flowers have managed to adapt to the freezing southern temperatures and rocky terrain. A thick border wraps around the perimeter of the room and rests below the crown moldings, which climb up on the ceiling itself. Silk draperies, pleated in layers, are gathered with silver medallions and cascade to the polished floors. A plush carpet is in the middle of the room. Blue settees and lounges populate the space. On a round table with golden leafed plates and utensils is a silver domed platter, Sokka's stomach takes notice and leads him over to it.
Lifting up the lid, Sokka releases the smells of a prepared sumptuous repast. "I believe, dinner is served." Hakoda and Katara are alerted to their hunger and join in partaking in the meal.
Katara plates the food, giving the first one to her father. Locating a silver tea set on the nearby secretary desk, she pours hot liquid into fine china cups. After waiting for Hakoda to take the first bite and sip of tea, the children begin to sample the food. Sokka resists the urge to lift up the plate and let the food slide down his gullet, but his quick second serving shows he isn't slow to consume the dinner. After everyone feels sated and Sokka can say he is stuffed, Katara stacks the dirty dishes on the silver platter and recovers it with the dome.
"Now, what do we do?" Katara feigns coming up with an original suggestion. "I have an idea, we could check out the Tribute Festival."
Hakoda lounges on the couch. "Now, why would we want to do that?" He ignores his daughter's obvious attempt at swaying her father.
"Because…" Katara thinks of a plausible reason and brightens at a notion. "Archduchess Ursa said that young people are fun and what better way to become more fun then join in some fun." After she finished, Katara reviews her statement and even finds it lacking.
Sokka steps forward, realizing while his sister is capable of many things, being underhanded isn't one of them. "Dad, I think I deserve it, don't you?"
Hakoda looks up sharply. "Deserve to partake in a festival that openly markets how the fire nation abuses their power? Instead of helping the world be rid of Koh and his soulless minions, the imperial family freely capitalizes upon it. No, you don't deserve it. I hope I don't know that either of you attended that barbaric festival; it would disappoint me immensely."
Sokka's face falls, "Dad, I didn't mean to…"
Hakoda rises, cutting off his son's apology. "I'm tired, let us all retire to bed."
Katara and Sokka stand stunned in the room, both feeling shamefaced that they wanted desperately to go. Hakoda pauses at the door frame of his room, he places his hand upon the painted wood. Looking into the darken bedroom, his voice is consumed with sadness. "By the moon, I love you both."
"By the moon, we love you." They both choke out softly.
Hakoda enters his room and firmly shuts the door. Katara and Sokka look to each other and say a sad goodnight. As they move separately into their bedrooms, the first flash of fireworks burst in the sky.
A/N: I really like having Lu Ten in the story. I think he was so important to Iroh's character development, but was not truly seen or fleshed out in the cannon series. It is fun for me to create a deeper story for him and his wife, Narumi (OC).
Author's Plea: Keep up with the follows, favorites and add to my reviews. It does keep my fingers a-clacking on the keyboard.
