Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or its characters.
The Representative
Aang stepped into the circle of light from the flames on Zuko's raised dais, Katara and Sokka in tow. Above him, Zuko rubbed at one temple, the bruised circles under his eyes made darker by the shadows cast from the fire. Aang strode between rows of advisers, gathered like children before the Fire Lord's throne. He ignored their murmuring and bent at the waist in a perfunctory bow.
"Avatar Aang," Zuko greeted, waving him forward.
Aang raised one brow at the formality, but stepped forward, one foot resting on the bottom stair of the dais. "We've been waiting outside for hours, and the first thing your steward mentions is 'war'," he said gravely. "Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"
"I'm sorry," the Fire Lord sighed. "It was a necessity."
"Keeping secrets?" Sokka piped up dryly from behind Aang. His arms were crossed over his broad chest.
A wrinkled adviser sent Sokka a dark sneer from behind a flowing silver beard. "The Fire Lord and his advisers reserve the right to keep state secrets. Not everything requires the Avatar's intervention." The old man shot Zuko a meaningful look. "A policy I'd advise you to adhere to, Fire Lord Zuko. Particularly given present company."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Katara snapped at him, but the old man ignored her, his eyes still trained on Zuko.
Another adviser, younger, with a sleek topknot, stepped forward. "Shao means no offense," he assured Katara, his voice oily and smooth. "He's merely attempting to protect the Fire Nation from those who would seek to harm it."
"We don't seek to harm the Fire Nation," Aang said sharply, concerned by the man's veiled implication. He turned back to Zuko. "But we can't help you without first understanding what's going on. All I know is that your ambassador to the Southern Tribe is dead, and that your advisers are suggesting war. I need more information than that, and I need it now."
There was a heady silence, advisers exchanging looks as Zuko leaned forward, clearly embroiled in an internal debate. Finally, the young Fire Lord drew in a deep breath before nodding somberly. "Alright," he answered. "You must understand, Aang... and particularly you two, Sokka and Katara, that this is a matter that requires extreme discretion and delicacy." He waved forward a valet, who handed him a long letter. From afar, Aang recognized the handwriting of his father-in-law, Hakoda, the Southern Water Tribe Chieftain. "Early this morning, a letter arrived from Hakoda stating that Katsuro, my ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe- and the architect behind the Unity Act- was found dead in his apartments." Zuko checked the date. "This was three days ago, now. Hakoda's healers were still in the process of examining the body at the time this letter was written, but they had not yet found a cause of death."
Aang frowned. "That is- I'm sorry to hear that, Zuko. Katsuro seemed a good man." He tucked his hands nervously into his robe. "But, I fail to see the purpose behind all this secrecy. A death from natural causes hardly seems to warrant all this-" he hesitated, struggling to find the appropriate word- "attention."
All around the dark chamber, Zuko's advisers tutted and grumbled with voices of mixed approval.
"The letter doesn't say 'natural causes', Avatar Aang," the oily-voiced young adviser interrupted again. "It says that they could not determine the cause of death."
"It also says the investigation is ongoing," Katara cut in.
Aang gestured his agreement with his wife. "I mean no offense, but this Council was called prematurely. You shouldn't assume foul play, and you most certainly should not be speaking of war."
"We wouldn't have," Zuko said, his eyes cold at Aang's rebuke, "if it weren't for a letter from a Northern Tribesman, a patron who has taken up residence in the South." He held out his hand, and his valet leaned forward to pass him a second letter. "The writer, Councilman Tokala, was succinct, if brief. He has his own suspicions as to the cause of Katsuro's death. A Southern Spirit, angered by the Fire Nation's interference with Tribal politics. He offered his condolences for Katsuro's loss... and, of course, expresses his concerns for the safety of any other Fire Nation representative who might appear to push the Unity Act in the South."
The oily-voiced adviser spoke up once more. "A scarcely veiled threat," he declared ominously.
"You think that Katsuro was killed by an angry Southern Spirit?" Sokka asked in disbelief. "I lived in the South Pole for fifteen years, through raids and attacks and kidnappings- and times much leaner than you can imagine. Spirits never made their presence known to us during any of those times. I rather doubt that a trade agreement- even one with the Fire Nation- would incite them to murder."
"We are not children to be frightened by ghost stories, Master Sokka," Shao, the elderly adviser, broke in heatedly. "We are no more inclined to believe this version of events than you are."
"Then why are we here?" Sokka demanded.
Shao's lip curled in distaste. "A letter from a Northern Tribesman, with whom the Fire Nation has been at odds for years, claims that our ambassador is dead at the hands of an angry Southern Spirit, and any other ambassador who follows might face the same fate. I shall ignore completely the insult to our intelligence that such a letter makes, and go straight to the meat of the matter. Who among the players in the South Pole would benefit most from the death of our ambassador, and more importantly, the dissolution of The Unity Act?"
Sokka's eyes narrowed in understanding, and Aang felt his heart sinking.
"You think the North killed Katsuro?" Katara asked, voicing Aang's fears aloud.
"Of course not," the oily-voiced adviser seethed. "We think the North murdered him. In cold blood. An open act of aggression. Of war."
Katara's heart was in her throat as she spoke. "Zuko, you don't... you can't mean to interpret this that way."
"Fire Lord Zuko can interpret these events however he chooses," came the snake-like voice of Zuko's young adviser. He glared at her openly.
"Or, rather, however you recommend them?" Katara sneered back at him. He shrugged at her accusation, but looked away, and Katara turned back to Zuko. "However you consider these events, you can't make your decision until you have all the facts. All of them, without speculation."
"The North has never condoned an act this aggressive. Not even during the war," Aang added, and she flashed him a look of appreciation. "Chief Arnook has been more than agreeable in post-war negotiations. You cannot confuse reasonable reticence to enter into an agreement with your nation with hostility."
"Chief Arnook, however 'reasonable' he may be, doesn't speak for every wealthy Northern nobleman," the older adviser, Shao, sneered. "He and his people are stretched thin, far and wide; too busy being the poles that propped the hapless South back up after the war."
Sokka practically bared his teeth at Shao, his arms still crossed over his chest, lending him an imposing countenance. "Watch the way you speak," he snarled, his voice lined in ice and steel.
Katara rested a calming hand on his elbow, but her face was scarcely less furious. "The end of the war wasn't so very long ago that we've forgotten who put the South in that condition," she warned.
Shao bowed to them, snake-like, one brow quirking malevolently. "I'm overcome with remorse," he said, before turning back to Zuko. "Regardless of timelines, if you allow this to go unanswered, you will set a dangerous precedent."
"Not as dangerous as attacking without provocation," Zuko said slowly, and Katara breathed an internal sigh of relief. "They're right; I need more information."
Another adviser stepped from the shadows. "How, exactly, have they not provided provocation, Fire Lord Zuko? Our beloved ambassador is dead, his hard work on The Unity Act- a peaceful endeavor, years in the making- lying dead on the floor with him."
"Strange circumstances do not equate to murder," Aang argued. "You'd make a war out of an accident- one that may have nothing to do with the North or South at all."
Shao growled. "Katsuro was the very picture of health upon his departure for negotiations in the Southern Tribe."
"People die," Sokka stated grimly. "That may sound callous, but sometimes these things happen. The South is investigating. They will report back, and then you will decide from there."
The advisers grumbled behind them once more, some clearly incited to anger by Sokka's insolent tone. They were silenced with a sharp look from Zuko. "He's right," the Fire Lord murmured once more.
"You mean to continue negotiations, then?" Shao asked, aghast. "You mean to get into bed with these people? We offered the hand of friendship, and they cut it off."
Aang regarded him icily. "You don't know that."
"And are we to simply take the Southern Water Tribe at their word?" asked another adviser, a woman with flowing gray hair.
"Yes," Zuko replied firmly. "We must allow them the benefit of the doubt."
Shao sneered again. "Your childishness will get us all killed and make us the laughingstock of the surviving nations."
"And your warmongering will set the surviving nations back to wrangling," Katara seethed. "And that's to say nothing of your nationalism-"
"Enough," Zuko interrupted in a voice that brooked no argument. "So long as I am Fire Lord, the decision rests with me." He steepled his hands under his chin, lost in dark thought. "I thank you all for your input; I assure you, your voices and concern for your country are not going unheard. But now, I need some time alone with the Avatar and his company," he declared finally.
There was the sound of shuffling as the room cleared, advisers filing out in varying states of despair, anger, confusion, and fear. Aang watched them go, his eyes narrowed, until no one was left in the throne room but Zuko, Aang, Katara, and Sokka.
Zuko slumped in his throne the moment they were alone, lowering the flames with an exhausted flick of his wrist. "Damn," he swore quietly.
"I don't know how to else to tell you this, but you should very seriously consider cleaning house," Sokka noted to Zuko, his eyes blazing. "You've got some advisers who would have made your father and his ilk very happy."
"They're a necessary evil," Zuko sighed. "They're here to advise me, and sometimes that means I need the word of people who don't agree with me. I won't simply silence opinions that I don't care for."
Aang made his way up to the steps to Zuko's throne. "I'm inclined to agree with Sokka, Zuko, but at the moment, I'm more concerned with what you yourself intend to do next. The wrong move here could be disastrous. Your advisers- even the more temperate ones- are noticeably displeased. But, even so, war should never be your first resort."
Zuko looked away, worried. "I need to know what's going on down there, but I sort of doubt my advisers will take Hakoda at his word." He rolled his eyes skyward in a combination of concern and frustration. "And that's assuming he doesn't find proof of foul play."
"I'll go," Aang said firmly. "I'll go, and I'll report back."
Sokka nodded his agreement. "I'll go, too."
"And me," Katara said.
Zuko regarded her with a frown. "I thought you were here for Mai- to help with the pregnancy?"
"She's got a month til she's due," Katara replied confidently. "And an army of midwives and healers. That's more than enough time for us to return with the answers you're looking for."
The Fire Lord drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne nervously. Finally, he stood, all the weight of a hard-made decision displayed in the downward curve of his lips. "I can't leave; there are too many things going on here that need my attention. And, it looks like someone will need to keep a tight rein on my advisers. But, I need a representative to speak on my behalf."
"I can do that-" Aang began, but Zuko shook his head.
"No, not you," he said. "You're supposed to be impartial. I'll find someone, don't worry about that." He straightened. "Leave as soon as you can. The sooner, the better," he ordered, every inch a king. "And don't stop until you have answers."
"This is a joke," Sokka said in disbelief, in growing alarm. "You're joking."
Katara shook her head in sympathy, leaning against Appa and threading her fingers through his thick fur. "Aang just told me."
"Zuko couldn't pick anyone else?"
"I'm sorry, Sokka," she said. "Zuko needs a representative who knows him well enough to speak on his behalf, and diplomatic enough to work alongside Northern opposition. And, possibly one capable of defending themselves, should the Fire Nation's fears about the North prove true."
Sokka kicked at a rock, sending it flying away in a puff of dust. "And Suki was his best option? She's not even a Fire Nation citizen."
"I think that was part of the appeal," Katara answered wryly. "Zuko's thinking was that the North might be more willing to work with her."
"Why is this happening to me?" Sokka asked plaintively, eyes toward the bright blue of the late afternoon sky. "Am I being punished?"
Katara snorted. "Don't be melodramatic, Sokka. It'll be awkward for a while, but maybe traveling with her will help... smooth things over."
"It's going to take over a week to get to the South Pole, Katara," Sokka complained. "That's a week of... For Spirits' sake, we've been in the Fire Nation for nearly a month, and it took a massive festival and the machinations of the Fire Lord's wife herself for Suki and I to meet."
"Well, maybe I could help you," Katara grumbled, "if you'd tell me what in the world happened between you two."
Sokka stilled, and looked away uncomfortably. "It doesn't matter."
"It obviously matters to you. And to her." Katara crossed her arms. "And to me, since we're on the subject. One moment, Suki was one of my best friends in the world, and the next, she's holding you- and by extension, Aang and I- at an arm's length. You're not the only one she's avoided." But no answer from Sokka was forthcoming, and Katara sighed, pushing off Appa and drawing her brother's arm in hers. "Please, Sokka. I just want to know."
"It just didn't work out," Sokka said, pulling his arm from Katara's grip. "I wasn't- it's not..."
She drew his face back to her, resting her hand against the stubble on his cheek. "You haven't been the same. You don't smile as much, you barely laugh anymore. You're so grim." She gave him a teasing smile. "What happened to 'Sokka, the meat and sarcasm guy'?"
Sokka pulled her hand from his cheek gently. "He grew up."
Water sped below them as Appa flew in a mile-eating soar. Things usually seemed less grim in the air; problems seemed smaller, farther away. Not this time, though. This time, he felt tired. Weary. Aang never really expected it to, but the burden of the Avatar's mantle only grew heavier with each passing crisis. During the war, he'd dreamed of its end, a smile on his lips at the thought of years of easy resolutions and eras of peace. Reality was rarely so gentle.
He sighed, snapping Appa's reins to coax a little more speed from him.
"So deep a sigh."
Jumping in surprise, Aang looked back over his shoulder. It was Suki, stepping carefully over the low wall of Appa's saddle. She settled gracefully into a seated position and shot him an easy smile, but Aang could see her discomfort in the way she carried her shoulders, the stiffness of her spine.
"What's bothering you?" she asked.
"It's nothing," he replied. "At least, it's nothing new."
Suki nodded her understanding. "Still putting out fires all over the world?"
He shrugged, eyes returning to the horizon. "One day, an international incident will occur, and world leaders won't immediately jump to 'an act of war'."
"I'm not holding my breath."
"That's probably for the best," he said, sighing again. He gave her a half-smile. "Now, what's bothering you?"
She laughed weakly. "Nothing. At least, nothing new."
"You could just talk to him," Aang muttered shrewdly.
Her laughter dissipated. "And say what?"
"Whatever feels right. Whatever you'd want to hear, if you were him."
"That would solve nothing."
"I wouldn't know," Aang said carefully. "But, avoiding each other won't solve anything, either."
Suki drew her knees to her chest, her practical green tunic ruffling in the stiff wind. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me?"
Aang's sincere doubt at that statement manifested itself in an audible scoff. "Even if that were the case, since when have you given him exactly what he wanted?"
She snorted mirthlessly.
"Why start now?" he asked with a little chuckle. "Talk to him, Suki. If for no other reason than to call a truce. We have work to do; we can't be at odds with one another."
"Looks like you're growing into that Avatar wisdom," Suki teased, and Aang saw it for the subtle change of subject that it was.
He smiled indulgently. "Well, I have been married for six months," he mused. "I was bound to get smart at some point."
"That'll do it." Suki shook her head wryly. "Maybe your six months of marriage will help out in the South. Diplomacy and wisdom are bound to be the name of the game, where we're headed."
"We'll find out, won't we?" Aang muttered, his smile slipping away. "Well, it's like I always tell Katara; let's not borrow trouble. We've got seven days before we even arrive. Let's keep an open mind, until then."
Suki nodded with a small smile. One that didn't reach her eyes.
The first few days of the journey crackled with anxious electricity. Every look Suki turned to him with soft, brown eyes was like a spark to the heart. Every smile, every word unsaid. And a lot of words went unsaid. Far too many for Sokka's liking.
The following days, that electricity dulled into an insistent ache, throbbing each time she looked as though she was about to speak to him. She'd open her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue, then she'd close it and dart away. Meal times were the worst. With only four of them, conversation was rather limited. Aang shot Suki meaningful glances, which brought a burn to Suki's cheeks (whatever that meant). Katara would eye Sokka so forcefully, he feared her eyes would pop out of their sockets. But every evening ended the same: the newlyweds would retire into their tent early to do whatever it is that newlyweds do, and Sokka and Suki were invariably plunged into an uncomfortable silence as they were left alone.
On the last night before their arrival in the Southern Water Tribe, they stopped on the outskirts of a cozy village in the southern Earth Kingdom, tucked away in a neat little valley. A steady river flowed next to them, and Katara and Aang stood shortly after sunset to announce that they were going to have a sparring session, and they would be back later in the evening. Sokka saw this for the obvious ploy that it was, and grabbed Katara by the elbow when he knew Suki wasn't looking. "I know what you're doing," he hissed angrily into his sister's ear.
The blue of Katara's eyes spoke volumes. "What?" she asked in a weak attempt at innocence. "Sparring with my husband?"
"No," he said, quickly losing patience. "Every night on this trip, you and Aang have snuck away and left Suki and I to our own devices. If I were of a suspicious nature, I'd think you two were pushing us together."
"Good thing you're not suspicious."
He dropped her elbow in disgust. "You can't force us to talk to each other."
"Spirits know that's the truth," Katara said with a sigh, stepping away from him. "But, like Aang told Suki the day we left the Fire Nation, we have work to do. You two being at odds could cause serious problems. We need to focus."
"We can do what needs to be done," Sokka snapped.
"The first thing that needs to be done is for you two to talk," Katara said with exasperation, slipping away into the evening air and leaving him more frustrated than before.
Sokka grumbled irritably, resolving to spend the evening avoiding Suki, if for no other reason than to spite his sister. He stalked back to his tent, lifting open the flap and grimacing when the smell of seven days worth of travel made its way into his nostrils. He gathered up his dirty clothes and stuffed them into a canvas sack. Laundry was as good a way to avoid someone as any other, and he didn't doubt that if his clothes smelled this pungent, his body probably wasn't faring much better. He made his way to the riverbed, sinking to his knees and stripping off his shirt and pants to dump them into the fragrant pile. He was just pulling off his boots when he heard a splash, off to his right, and peered into the dark with a frown. Running into trouble was one thing- running into trouble when one was wearing very little clothing was an entirely different thing.
His heart sank to his toes when he spotted Suki stomping out of the river, her brows furrowed in anger and one arm wrapped tightly over her chest as she reached for her towel, which hung from a limb that hung over the water. She carefully shielded herself with her towel, wrapping it around herself as she stepped onto the bank, still dripping, and made her way over to him.
"You couldn't do your laundry anywhere else?" she asked venomously as she pulled the towel a little tighter around herself.
Embarrassed and irritated as he was, the last thing Sokka was prepared for was a scolding from a scantily-clad woman who had spent the last four weeks industriously ignoring him. He kept his eyes stubbornly leveled at a spot three feet above Suki's head and reached blindly for a pair of pants from the pile. Laundry would have to wait. "Sorry," he muttered gruffly, yanking the pants on before stalking away.
"All this stretch of river, and you conveniently choose the place I'm bathing to go sight-seeing?" she called after him indignantly.
"Spirits, Suki," Sokka snapped, rounding on her. "I didn't even know you were here."
Some of the anger drained from her face. "Then what are you doing here?"
He gestured wordlessly to his pile of dirty laundry, and a red flush crept into her cheeks. "Can I do my laundry now, or did you want to talk about it for a while longer?"
Sokka almost didn't catch it. He almost didn't hear the grumble under breath: "What talk? This is the most talking we've done in a week."
"And that's my fault?" he asked angrily, his fists clenching at his sides. "Or am I imagining the last seven days of silence- from both sides? Face it, Suki; you're as much to blame as I am."
Her lips clamped shut, and he almost laughed at the irony. A cold breeze passed by seconds later, and she shivered wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Protection from the wind or from his questions, he didn't know. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and there was a lot of skin showing; his irritation shifted of its volition to concern when he saw the tremble she was trying to hide.
He held a hand out to her, intending to lead her back to the fire so that he could finish his laundry in peace. "Come on," he said gruffly. She nearly recoiled at the proffered hand, and he dropped it in another flash of irritation. "Fine," he snapped. "Freeze, then." He pushed past her, back to his waiting pile of clothes before snatching up a tunic and plunging it into the cold river water. He was making steady headway through the pile when Suki sat down a few feet away, now robed in a soft green tunic. She smelled of fireweed, and it made his heart stutter in his chest.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted softly. He could barely hear her over the sound of the river.
He grunted. It could have been a laugh, or despair. "How about, 'Sokka, it's good to see you'? 'You look well.' Or, even, 'You look terrible.' Something. Anything."
"Well, the same goes to you," she fired back.
"I did tell you that I was happy to see you," he said, scowling. "At the Fire Day's Festival."
She flushed, examining her bare toes. A long time passed before she spoke again. "It's hard."
"What is?"
"Seeing you. Like this. It's hard. It- it hurts."
He froze, bile rising in his mouth. Of all the things he thought she'd say, this was the most unexpected. "I know," he murmured.
"The day you left, I didn't think- I never thought about how hard it would be to see you again."
His hand closed around her shoulder. He didn't even remember reaching out. "I know."
She leaned away, and his hand slid down. "I can't."
"I understand," he murmured.
"But, I can't-" She broke off.
He looked away. "I understand." A thousand words formed on his lips, 'sorry's' and accusations. Pleas and denunciations. But when he turned back to her, she was gone.
Aang heaved a sigh that rattled the tall reeds concealing them as they watched as Suki wander away, leaving Sokka alone on the river bank. "Well, they did literally speak," he said wryly.
"That wasn't exactly the reconciliation I was hoping for," came Katara's reply.
He pulled Katara gently away to resume their Waterbending sequence, lifting the water from the flowing river. "It might be a little unreasonable to expect them to resolve a year's worth of tension in one evening."
"Or even seven evenings," she complained dejectedly, pulling the water from his grasp and guiding it smoothly around her before sending it back to him.
"We can't force it. They need to figure it out on their own."
Katara shot him a plaintive look. "I know that; I'm not forcing it."
"Aren't you?" He ducked under a thick whip of water. It hit the river with a resounding 'smack'. "Kidding."
She lifted her chin haughtily. "I am not forcing it, but I think we can both admit that there are quite a few issues that could be resolved if they would only speak with one another honestly. First and foremost on my mind is the fact that the four of us need to work together in the South Pole- any sources of tension in a situation like this could snowball." He snickered at the pun, and she rolled her eyes.
"I seriously doubt that Suki and Sokka would let whatever is going on between them interfere with their work," Aang countered. "In fact, I sort of suspect that that's what this is all about in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged, lifting several thick arms of water out of the river until he stood in the center of the Octopus Form. "They both have important roles. Jobs that they love, that keep them busy. That keep them apart. I think it would be hard, to have to choose." He frowned. "Imagine if you couldn't stay with me... but your feelings didn't change."
Katara worried at her lower lip. "I don't really like thinking about that."
"That's their reality."
"I know," Katara murmured. She copied Aang's Octopus form, watery tentacles weaving threateningly through the air. "I just want my brother back."
"It just takes time, Katara. They'll figure it out," he said gently. "And in the meantime, our focus should be on why we're here. And, who knows? Maybe this will be the force that drives them back together." He shot her an encouraging smile. "Now, get ready. I'm not holding back this time."
She laughed dryly. "Good luck."
Their arrival at the South Pole was heralded with little fanfare, a solemn crowd surrounding them as Appa settled his massive weight on the ice. Aang waved genially to the throng, his hand dropping slowly as he took in the grim faces. Katara and Sokka slid down Appa's tail to greet their father, and Suki followed shortly after them.
Hakoda's gravelly laughter, normally loud and unchecked, was subdued as he grasped Sokka's forearm in a traditional Southern greeting. He leaned back to peer into Sokka's eyes, who now stood at least two inches taller than his father. Shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, Hakoda gave Sokka a wry grin. "How's the weather up there?" he joked. Sokka laughed as the Southern Tribesmen behind Hakoda all shared a coordinated eye-roll.
"Dad," Katara greeted him, pulling him into a hug.
He returned it warmly, pressing a kiss to her temple, then stepped back to look at her. "Marriage suits you," he said, and she blushed.
Aang leapt from Appa's back, landing with a gust of wind in front of his new father-in-law. Unsure of the formalities the situation called for (should he greet him as a son-in-law? Or as the Avatar greeting the Southern Water Tribe Head Chieftain?), he opted for a traditional Air Nation bow. "Hakoda. It's good to see you."
Hakoda's smile was still warm, but his eyes held a little of the grimness shared by the gathered crowd. "It is... though, I wish it was under better circumstances. We don't have much time to waste," he continued. "No doubt, Zuko and his advisers have a multitude of concerns and questions, and we'll address all of that. But first, introductions." He led them over to a group of well-dressed Tribesmen, who waited nearby with stiff bearing and regal countenance.
Aang gave them a peremptory bow. "I'm Avatar Aang, Head Chieftain Hakoda's... son-in-law." He blinked awkwardly, unsure if that was a fact worth mentioning. "Master Katara, my wife, and my brother-in-law, Sokka, have joined me from the Fire Nation." Aang gestured behind him, waving Suki forward. "And Suki, of the Kyoshi Warriors, has joined us to speak as Fire Lord Zuko's personal representative."
The stiff bearings, if possible, became stiffer. The Tribesmen eyed Suki with scarcely concealed contempt. Aang felt Suki bristle beside him. One man, tall and stern-looking, with long braids threaded through with purple beads, stepped forward. "Avatar Aang, and... company," he greeted them silkily. "I'm honored to meet you. I'm Tokala, a representative of the Northern Water Tribe and a patron of the South. We've been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation. With you and your company here, I pray that the conclusion of these troubling times is at hand."
Vaguely, Aang recognized the man; he recalled seeing him in the background at his wedding six months before. Their meeting had, at the time, been brief, but Aang remembered thinking of him as the consummate politician. Well-mannered and sly, he had left the impression of someone not to be trifled with. And, Aang recalled suddenly, Tokala had been the writer of the letter that had sent Zuko's advisers into an outrage. "Tokala," Aang said warily. Politics had never been a strong suit of Aang's- he often left the word-smithing and clever remarks with Sokka. In Tokala, Aang felt that he- they- would encounter a fearsome adversary. "We look forward to finding a peaceful resolution."
A rustle went through the Tribesmen, the clacking of wooden beads and claws, at Aang's words.
"Of course, Avatar Aang," Tokala said. He tilted his head toward the lowering sun. "We have called a Council session for first thing tomorrow morning. We look forward to hearing what you and your company have to say." He turned slightly and reached behind him. His guards parted, and a woman stepped forward, solemn and beautiful, face lined in grief and eyes lined in red. "This is my niece, Amka," Tokala said, his voice losing much of it's officiousness and dropping into a softer, gentler cadence. "Katsuro's widow."
Aang bowed low to her. "We offer our deepest condolences," Aang said when he straightened. "We're so sorry for your loss."
Amka responded with a graceful dip of her chin, but otherwise did not reply.
"I've offered her the comfort of my home during these trying times," Tokala continued. "After my brother's death some years ago, she has become something of a daughter to me. She and my own son were practically raised together." He eyed Aang with a pleading look, one that Aang sensed to be genuine. "It is for her sake, and the sake of many others that we must reach a solution that most benefits the Tribes." He straightened his parka. "Until tomorrow, then, Avatar Aang." With a dismissive nod of his chin, Tokala turned, his Tribesmen in tow. His niece Amka remained behind for a moment longer, regarding Aang with a look he did not understand, before she, too, departed.
Hakoda stepped forward, his footsteps crunching lightly on the ice. "Be wary of that one," he warned quietly.
"What do you mean?" Sokka cut in, his tone matching his father's.
But Hakoda only shook his head with a grim smile. "It's a discussion meant for a more private setting. Come, all of you," he said, gesturing for the group to follow him. "Let's get out of the cold."
Katara's eyes followed her father. She took in the grimness of his mouth, his normally proud shoulders stooped low as he guided them into his home, still humble despite the prominence of his position. "Where's Malina?" she asked for want of something to say.
Hakoda offered her a weak smile. "She's in Gaoling, working on a project for the Mayor to improve factory safety."
"Sounds important," Sokka noted.
"It keeps her busy," his father replied with a shrug. "For long periods of time," he added dejectedly.
Suki, who sat Hakoda's rough-hewn kitchen table with a mug of tea wrapped in her hands, gave him a sympathetic nod. "The distance can be hard," she murmured. "But, it tends to make your time together that much sweeter."
Sokka looked to Suki sharply, his lips in a thin line, but said nothing.
"I hate to dive right into business, Hakoda," Aang began softly, "but I need to know what's going on- what you think is going on, not some political version of events. Especially if the Council meeting is tomorrow morning."
Hakoda nodded, exhaustion plain on his face. He dragged his feet to the kitchen table, settling down in the seat next to Suki. "There are things at play here that I can admit I don't fully understand," Hakoda began slowly. He looked up at Aang. "Katsuro and his wife, Amka, have been here for over a year. At the beginning, talks of a treaty between the South and the Fire Nation were little more than a pipe-dream, and it went largely ignored by the North. When Katsuro began pushing legislation in his home nation, the North sat up and began to take notice." He scowled slightly. "At the Council meeting in which The Unity Act was first introduced, the Northern Tribesmen put up a fight that I was certain would end in an international incident."
"Why?" Aang asked.
"I'm sure you tire of hearing this answer, Aang, but... old grudges die hard," Hakoda said simply. "Many of the men you met this afternoon personally fought in the Siege of the North. They lost brothers, fathers... even grandfathers. I'm told that it was a near thing. That kind of pain isn't simply forgotten."
Katara shared a long look with Aang and Sokka. It had been a near thing- only Aang and the Spirit of the Ocean had given them a Northern Water Tribe victory. And even then, the cost had been high.
"With each step of The Unity Act, the North fought like a cornered polar bear-dog," Hakoda continued. "And my support of the Act has been no less alarming to them. I've received everything from threats to pull funding to death threats. Convenient 'accidents' that significantly slow progress on major projects, ever since Katsuro's arrival. At first, the North claimed ignorance, but when the 'accidents' and threats continued, they started turning toward scapegoats in order to remain blameless."
"The Spirits," Sokka said shrewdly.
Hakoda nodded. "There have been a number of incidents over the past year- little things, seemingly unimportant, but with Katsuro's death..."
Aang frowned, troubled. "You don't really think they'd resort to that sort of thing, do you?"
"I simply don't know," Hakoda answered honestly. "Ordinarily, I'd say no, never, but the 'incidents' have begun to be a little too convenient for the North's purposes for comfort. If negotiations had been able to proceed smoothly, this Act might have been passed already. We wouldn't need the North's funding or support. We'd be a nation unto ourselves, at last." He sighed sadly. "I suppose, though, that the South standing on our own two feet is rather a double edged sword for the North. They balk at any mention of the Fire Nation. Katsuro was as welcome at Council meetings as frostbite."
Katara placed a gentle hand on her father's. It was more wrinkled than she remembered. "And his death?" she prompted softly.
Hakoda spread his hands helplessly. "He was alive and well one day. Dead the next. My healers have done everything they can do, but they can find no mark on him that would suggest foul play." He frowned again. "I even have my Chief of Police on the case, though he hasn't found anything yet, either." His brow furrowed in thought.
"What's wrong?" Suki asked, noticing Hakoda's troubled expression.
"My Chief of Police is a good man, and good at his job," Hakoda explained, "but his lack of interest in this case is a bit... out of character for him. Ordinarily, he's like a Shirshu; once he has a scent, he won't let go. Like so many other things that have happened over the last year, it seems rather too convenient that the Chief of Police is experiencing a lack of motivation."
"You think Tokala put him off," Sokka surmised, leaning forward with interest.
His father eyed him sharply. "Those are dangerous words to utter in any company other than this," Hakoda muttered. "And the truth is, I simply don't know. On the surface this may look cut and dry, but real life- especially politics- rarely is."
"That's not an answer," Sokka returned grimly.
Hakoda looked away. "I know."
The room fell to silence, each person eyeing the one across from them uncomfortably. It was Aang who finally broke the silence, all eyes trained on him. "But what do you believe, Hakoda?"
"What do I believe?" Hakoda repeated in a low murmur, more to himself than to anyone else. "Many forces are at work here. Possibly some forces we don't even see. But... Tokala and his Tribesmen have used the 'angry Spirit' ploy a time too many."
Aang leaned back against the wall, and Katara could tell that his suspicions were confirmed. "Well," Aang said, "we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?"
A/N: For those who have not read the comics, Malina is Hakoda's Northern Water Tribe girlfriend with whom Katara had something of a rocky beginning. She will not be featured in this story.
Points of clarification: someone asked about the span of time between the Minister and this story. About 3 years, a little less. Sorry if that was confusing!! I'll try to edit that a bit.
My update schedule- I will try my very best for once a week. Every Thursday, if I'm able.
As always, please leave a review!! Thank you so much to the people that reviewed last weeks chapter. I'll see you all again next Thursday!
