They were on the move earlier than usual the next morning. Iroh had woken up exhausted, but feeling much more like himself. He'd gone through his exercises anyway, then made the terrible decision to take a quick rinse in what turned out to be a nearly frozen ocean. Although he'd made sure to move far enough from camp as to be out of sight, it had taken every ounce of pride he had to keep wading once his feet touched the water. It was incredibly unpleasant. If their plane went down over the ocean, he thought darkly, they'd freeze before they'd drown.

Knowing today they would arrive at the South Pole and meet up with the rest of Team Avatar, Asami had run a little ways down the beach to rinse off as well. Unlike Iroh, she'd opted for the kamikaze method, cannonballing off of a large rock that had created a deep pool in its shelter. Her shriek upon entering the water was so high that Iroh couldn't help laughing. But the laughter stuck in his throat when he saw her race up the beach, water dripping down her bare legs, her eyes bright, pale cheeks in high color.

He'd been determined to be distant with her, but after a few minutes he gave up. Asami was so obviously miserable, continuing to shiver even after changing into dry clothes, that he went over to where she was packing up her gear and set some nearby driftwood alight. She squatted down next to it, held out both shaking hands, and flashed him a grateful grin. She had a beautiful smile.

This was, on balance, very bad. If he was going to get in, help the Southern Water Tribe, and get out without either Raiko knowing or being killed, he was going to need every bit of focus he could muster. Even worse, his intelligence was old, so besides the maps he had no idea what kind of situation he was walking into. It could get very dangerous, very fast, and a distraction at this point could be just enough to tip the scales against him.

He'd tried everything he could think of to try to get his head back in the game. He'd spent most of yesterday in a terrible mood, unsure of exactly who or what he was angry at. To snap himself out of it he'd done fireforms until he could barely stand. This morning he'd pushed himself again, followed by what had to be the coldest shower the Earth Kingdom had to offer. He'd felt better after that, but no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the day ahead, his attention kept drifting.

Down the beach he heard Asami laugh.

She. Is. With. Somebody. Else.

Yes, it was safe to say that in the focus department he was failing spectacularly.

Asami touched the plane down on a long, lonely piece of floating ice about 15 miles off the coast of the South Pole. The sun was sinking low, but they still had some time until nightfall. The plan was to fly in after dark to avoid being seen, landing at one of three sites they had identified on his United Forces maps. Asami, looking restless, had taken a metal toolbox out from under her seat and was busying herself looking for anything on the aircraft in need of a mend. Iroh sat on his duffel bag a few feet away, arms hanging loosely over his knees, and watched Asami work.

Asami had changed into what he thought of as her "fighting suit," a dark ensemble with maroon piping made from synthetic materials that he remembered from their battle with the Equalists. Iroh had always thought attractive women went hand-in-hand with fancy dresses, but he was finding many new and interesting things to enjoy about a woman in pants. For example, the way they pulled tight as the she reached to check something on the rim of the cockpit.

"General Iroh," Asami said, stretching to turn a bolt head slightly. It had been a while since she had used his title.

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to push, but have you decided on a landing plan yet?" He'd shared bits and pieces of his plans with her over the time that they'd been traveling, but had been intentionally evasive about specifics. None of the landing sites were perfect, each being a trade-off between likelihood of being spotted and how long they would have to travel on foot in the freezing cold. He could always use fire to keep warm, but Asami would have a harder time. They'd talked about her dropping him and then landing at the airfield in the city, but that would raise too many questions about why one of the Avatar's closest friends was arriving alone, by air, in the middle of the night, instead of on one of Varrick's ships as planned.

"No." He had to raise his voice slightly over the wind. The iceberg rocked gently. "I still think I'll need a closer look first. If the capital still holds against the North we can chance Site One, but if not I think I'll need to go further out."

She gave him a curt nod, moving down to work on another area. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her back to him.

"Of course."

"When I asked back in Republic City what would happen if President Raiko or anyone from the United Forces found out we were here, you didn't really answer. It's time to pick landing sites, and as your pilot I need to know the risks."

"For you," Iroh said, "likely nothing. You're a personal friend of the Avatar, traveling to visit her in her home. That's hardly objectionable, and in any case neither you nor Avatar Korra were told not to intervene in the war." He wasn't worried about Asami. Even if she was caught doing something questionable, she was bright enough and well-connected enough to get through it.

She tightened another bolt and glanced quickly back at him. "And for you?" she asked.

He considered for a moment. He'd quite deliberately avoided mentioning this part—partly so that she would have plausible deniability, and partly because he tried not to think about it himself. It wasn't a pretty picture. But she'd come this far with him, and that probably meant she had a right to know the stakes.

He opted for honesty. "Best case scenario," Iroh said, "I'd be court-martialed. President Raiko already said as much to Avatar Korra and I that day on my ship. That could mean demotion, administrative leave, even potentially dishonorable discharge from the United Forces." Asami stopped tightening the bolt. "Worst case," he continued, "I'd be executed."

There was a loud bang as Asami's wrench slipped. She whirled to face him.

"EXECUTED?!" Her eyes were wide in disbelief.

"Miss Sato, it's—" Iroh started, but Asami stalked forward as if she hadn't heard him, swinging the wrench wildly.

"What do you mean, you could be executed?" she hissed. He held up both hands in a warding gesture. The wrench in her hand looked heavy. "Why didn't you tell me you could be ex—"

"ASAMI." She stopped at her name. He met her gaze steadily. "Asami," he said. "It's unlikely. But technically, I'm AWOL. I'm stationed in Republic City. I'm in charge of its defenses. The best I could arrange at short notice was designated leave, so being anywhere but Republic City right now is, in fact, abandoning my post." He gave her a small shrug. "It wouldn't be easy given either the facts or my record, but it's conceivable that Raiko could pull enough strings to have me convicted as a deserter. And in the United Forces, deserters can be executed."

"That's horrible," said Asami. She looked shocked, her face drawn. She walked over and sat down next to him, dropping the wrench beside her. She turned to face him. "It's also so unlike Avatar Aang," she said. "From what I know about him, he would never agree to a system that punished criminals with death. Why would the United Forces have a rule like that?"

"You know your history," said Iroh. "And you're right, Avatar Aang never supported the death penalty. I'm afraid it was actually my grandfather's doing. From what I understand, it was one of the few things about which he and Aang ever seriously argued. But the United Forces are modeled on the Fire Nation army, and in that army desertion is punishable by death. Firelord Zuko insisted that the United Forces needed to keep their options open when it came to punishment if they were ever to be taken seriously." He shook his head. "It would be the ultimate irony if the policy he fought for was used to kill his own grandson. But I'm not sure he was wrong in thinking that firm consequences were critical to establishing the Forces' initial legitimacy."

"I still don't like it, General," said Asami. She stuck out her lower lip slightly and scowled. Still free of makeup, her lips were a light shade of pink against her pale skin. Iroh thought they looked very soft.

"Please, just Iroh," he said, trying not to think about it. "If I'm to be hung as a deserter, you may as well drop the title."

"You shouldn't joke about it," Asami said. "It's a terrible thought."

"I'm sorry. You're right." At least she didn't want him dead. That was something.

"You said President Raiko would have to pull strings though," said Asami. "But he would never do that, would he? I don't love the man, but I don't think he's as bad as all that. Besides, he needs you."

"I'm not so sure," Iroh said. "Raiko is a political creature, not to mention the first man elected to his position. He's made some bad calls, but he's not stupid by any means. My disregard of a direct order could completely undermine his authority. And having done so publicly, if I, as a member of a royal family, am then seen to be above the law, it could perhaps jeopardize the whole idea of the presidency. President Raiko understands this. Probably better than I do." He looked at Asami and smiled ruefully. "Honestly, I bet you a golden dragon he'd jump at the chance to make an example of me. I might be more useful to him dead."

Asami frowned.

"Look, Asami," Iroh said. He liked saying her name. Asami. "I thought hard about it, about all of this." He waved his hand towards the South Pole. "I knew that there was a chance that I couldn't fly your plane well enough to reach the Southern Water Tribe. I certainly wasn't counting on you offering me your services. And I knew there was a chance that if I could, I'd be captured or maybe killed while trying to end the war. And I knew that if I wasn't, and I made it back to Republic City, that it was possible, even likely, that my own people would turn on me."

He stopped and ran his hand through his hair. He needed her to understand. That he wasn't what Korra had said—a coward. "What I mean is, I'm not a very spontaneous person, Asami. I'm very, very deliberate. Despite what you may think, I didn't just go haring off after the Avatar when Raiko shut down United Forces involvement in the war. Please believe me when I say that I calculated the risks, found them acceptable, and proceeded accordingly. Whatever happens, I consider it worth it."

"I know," Asami said softly, looking down at her feet. Iroh cocked his head, puzzled.

"I, er. I saw you bending last night," she said. Ah. That. He grimaced. Nothing like having a brilliant, beautiful woman see you at your lowest point, blowing off steam half naked in the middle of the night like a madman.

"And?" he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," she continued, "but you'd been gone so long that I started to worry. After a couple of hours I went looking for you. And I saw what you were doing." Asami looked up from the ground, her cheeks faintly pink, and gazed at him intently. "Iroh," she said softly. "A man who can do what you did last night doesn't make mistakes."

Iroh blinked, surprised. He certainly hadn't expected that answer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said finally. "I'm making one right now. Come on. It's time."