The New Campaign

A week passed, and eventually, the Fire Lord and Lady exited their boudoir, both of them beaming at each other, satisfaction and promise of future nights like the ones they'd just shared lighting their limpid eyes. As much as they would have preferred to hide away from the world together, the peace summit was about to begin, and they knew there was a lot of work ahead.

Zuko, especially, had an agenda, now that his most pressing problem of securing and heir was—he was quadruply certain—taken care of.

Delegates began arriving one by one, two by two, ten by ten, and through many other numerical pairings that basically boiled down to a bunch of people showing up on the Fire Nation palace doorsteps all at once.

"And without even sending a messenger hawk first to let us know they're on the way," the head steward complained as he directed the servants to usher yet another arriving party to their quarters. "The falconers didn't spend years training those things to be song birds. Why can't people just jot a quick note? Is it so hard to keep in touch with us now and again…?"

Not that the palace hadn't been preparing for this very important occasion since last year, when everyone had been invited during the Fire Lord's wedding to return for what would ultimately devolve into yet another boisterous party.

"Peace summit," Sokka had declared, "is really just code for 'big ass party.'"

By week's end, the royal capitol was brimming with delegates, both royal and common, representing regions and towns and nations from around the globe. It was a fantastic gathering, a reunion of goodies and baddies that mixed some of the most unlikely characters, some of whom had never met…

Of course, for this group, it was all old hat.

"King Bumi!" Pakku greeted jovially. He crossed the grand ballroom floor where all the delegates were gathered for a cocktail reception, shaking the old Earthbender's hand vigorously. "How are you, your Majesty?"

"Master Pakku, so good to see you," the old king returned. "I assume your uncharacteristic good mood is due to the recent announcement in the latest issue of Fadmon?"

"So you've heard!" Pakku grinned. "Kana and I are very happy together. I do hope you'll be at the wedding next spring."

"I'm not marrying you, you delusional lout!" Gran-Gran cried from across the room. "What part of no didn't you understand?"

"I love you, too, my little seal turtle-seal pup!" the cantankerous Waterbender called back, blowing her a kiss.

"You're crazy! You're crazy and I still hate you!"

"Aw, the blushing bride's stomping away," Bumi cooed, wiping a tear away. "I remember my first wife doing the exact same thing…"

"I don't suppose you've seen the Fire Lord?" Pakku asked, glancing about. "I thought it'd be good to greet my new…er…grandson in-law? Yes, I suppose that's what he'll be, won't he?" He grinned, delighted by the prospect of holding his age and wisdom over the young ruler's head.

"Zuko's probably getting fancied up for this shindig. We've got quite a turnout." Bumi looked around at the milling crowd. "I do hope he decides to wear the green and yellow ele-pheasant feather-leather hat I sent him—he needs to start dressing more like a king if he's going to be taken seriously!" He primped the furry purple-and-gold boa wrapped around his neck for emphasis.

At that moment, the Fire Lord came striding in. Resplendent in formal red-and-gold-trimmed garb, Zuko scanned the crowd with eyes like molten fire. Eveyone had fallen silent at the intensity in his stare, the aura of determination wafting about him like a bad stench.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed, "thank you all for coming. I know you expected to have a good time this week, but I have news of a very disturbing nature."

Uneasiness rippled through the crowd.

Zuko went on. "A new force is threatening to consume us, to tear our hard-earned alliances apart and break down the friendships we have forged over these past few years.

"Initial reports say these deviant bastards are among us even now, spreading lies and discord through the four nations.With Avatar Aang's help—"

"Wait, I'm doing what now?" Aang piped in, confounded.

"—we will gather a task force to help crush this incursion and once more bring order, stability, peace and prosperity to the world."

"Fire Lord," Katara's father, Chief Hakoda, stepped forward, a look of grim concern lining his brow. "What threat is this you speak of?"

"THIS." Zuko flapped out the latest issue of Fadmon and held it up for all to see. The front page headline read: Jetko—the new Zutara?

Everyone was silent.

They shuffled and stared at their feet.

Someone coughed…perhaps to smother a laugh.

"It's not going to be an easy campaign," Zuko intoned gravely, ignoring the sidelong glances everyone was giving each other. "I estimate it'll be at least a year-long deployment—"

"Excuse me, Fire Lord," The Northern Water Tribe Chief Arnook piped up. "Are you suggesting we start a war with a...a gossip rag?" His mouth contorted into a twisted line of skepticism and disbelief.

But the Fire Lord was dead serious. "This is more than a simple tabloid," Zuko insisted, a fever blazing in his eyes. "This is about the spread of dangerous, nefarious lies that could poison the minds of our people, our children!" His stare raked through the crowd imploringly. "The next thing you know, they'll start believing in swamp monsters, and that Zhao's ghost walks among us!"

"I, for one, support Zuko's idea," King Bumi announced with a serious nod. "Have you read the things Fadmon's said about my wardrobe?" He sniffed.

"Fadmon is harmless," Hakoda argued. "So they make up stories and produce scandalous art for the masses to titter at. Who cares?"

"Obviously, you haven't seen the latest issue, father-in-law," Zuko said lowly, and his cheeks darkened to a deep shade of vermillion. "There's an absolutely lovely feature in here about your relationship..." he ground his teeth "…with my mother."

"I thought the picture was flattering," Arnook put in with a smile. "Though a few weeks ago, Fadmon said you were shacking up with Bato." He nudged him and winked. "Hakoda, you sly old dog."

"That was...I didn't...Bato and I...Ursa was just..." he spluttered, then went very pale when someone handed the broadsheet to him and he saw the titillating and rather detailed painting at the top of the page.

"Oh…oh my…"

Always one to show up at the most inappropriate times, Jet ambled up behind him and peered over his shoulder in interest. He smirked. "Are the proportions accurate?"

The Water Tribe Chief declined to answer.

Oyagi, leader of Kyoshi, protested loudly, "Fadmon's headquarters are located on Kyoshi Island! They are absolutely harmless! I cannot condone a military action of any kind!"

"And their distribution and editorial networks employ hundreds, perhaps thousands of hands across the globe," Hue, the Swampbenders' spiritual leader, said. "Even our backwaters are touched by its presence. We're all connected, after all. This threat is just an illusion—"

"Save your backwards rhetoric, Yoda," Zuko cut in, hand slashing the air. "We cannot, in good conscience, continue to allow Fadmon to perpetuate these fabrications and profit from them!"

"It's a non-profit organization!" Oyagi shouted back. "They do it for fun!"

"What do you propose?" Katara's father had capitulated rather quickly, and with the charismatic leader's support, other hearts followed.

"We must form an alliance against the enemy," Zuko said firmly. "We will join forces, just as we united to fight my father, and uproot this organization."

"This is an outrage!" Oyagi cried. "This is insane! Fadmon is nothing but the delusional and twisted fantasies of a group of inbred cretins! You can't march an invasion force to Kyoshi!"

"The campaign will go farther than that," the Fire Lord told him, then addressed the group. "We must erase Fadmon from the minds of the people. We must destroy every copy that has been printed, and ensure it never darkens the world again!"

An uproarious cheer went up and a hearty round of applause for Zuko's conviction filled the chamber.

"Isn't anyone listening to me?" Oyagi hopped up and down, but the gnomish Kyoshian was being ignored like a child throwing a tantrum.

Of course, Fadmon had never deigned to criticize the gracious leader of the island upon which they stationed their central office, so he'd never been affected by their special brand of attention and affection.

Then again, Oyagi was so straitlaced and boring, he could render Mai comatose.

Meanwhile, choruses of hearty agreements echoed through the room, and each delegate came to clap the Fire Lord on the back, lauding his decisive action—the first he'd ever made to lead the world.

For the first time in Zuko's life, it was all coming together for him. He really was going to take Fadmon down.

There was one little detail he hadn't worked out yet, however.

With that, he excused himself and went to seek out his sister.