Archive of Our Own ^beta

Agna Qel'a looks better than when Zuko last saw it—which, he realises with a wince, isn't really saying much, because he last saw it when it was under siege by his own nation. The infamous wall stands proud and intact, the symbol of the Water Tribes staring down at Zuko's ship like a judgmental eye.

"Open the gate!" shouts their guide, a tall waterbender in a sleek catamaran who's been literally pulling their ship through the water. At the top of the wall, a team of waterbenders slice their arms downward through the air.

With a great groan, the wall of Agna Qel'a divides into columns, which sink smoothly into the water to allow the Fire Nation delegation passage inside. It reminds Zuko, uncomfortably, of how the Dai Li had brought down the walls of Ba Sing Se. Their guide cuts straight through, uncaring of the huge blocks of ice hovering above their head, and pulls Zuko's ship in after them. Behind them, the gate shuts with a definitive boom. To Zuko's ears, it sounds like a warning: you cannot leave unless we let you leave.

The city, when they sail through it, is almost dead silent.

Zuko stands at the front of the ship, of course. He has to let everyone get a good look at him. His ministers have all elected to stay inside, not wanting to be scrutinised by the Northern Water Tribe; the only person at Zuko's side is Suki, his self-appointed personal bodyguard. She's dressed in borrowed clothes from Katara, since her Kyoshi Warrior regalia isn't nearly warm enough for the North Pole, so she and Zuko look sorely mismatched.

("This is too much," Zuko had said, when Sokka and Katara gifted him the custom red-dyed coat just before he left for the North. "No, I—my tailors have already—"

"But do your tailors have tiger sealskin and rabbit-fox fur?" Sokka had said, raising his brows. "I think not, my good hotman."

"Just take the gift, Zuko," Katara added. "No offense—"

"Full offense, actually—"

"—but there's no way a Fire Nation tailor could compete against our Gran Gran. Not when it comes to clothes for the cold.")

"Tough crowd," Suki murmurs, nodding at the people who gather beside the canals to stare stonily at Zuko's ship and the very obviously red-clothed Zuko standing on top of it. Zuko hums in reply.

"The last time a Fire Nation ship was in these waters, their Chief died," he says back. "I understand why they're not cheering."

"Guess you could say it's a frosty reception. Hey? Heeeeey?"

Zuko doesn't deign to grace that with an answer. Clearly, she's been spending too much time with Sokka.

They wind their way through the canals in silence, their guide confidently pulling them along. Zuko tips his head back to admire the arcing ice bridges and towers around them. Agna Qel'a has long been spoken of like a city of legend, and now, when he's not preoccupied by his hunt for the Avatar, he can finally appreciate why. 

And to think that the Fire Nation had nearly destroyed it all.

The palace comes into view, a behemoth of ice, and their guide gestures for Zuko to stop his ship. Zuko relays the orders, and the cruiser chugs to a slow stop at the end of the canal. Slowly, Zuko's ministers trickle out in single file, all of them shivering and miserable-looking and huddling together to avoid the sharp glares of the Northerners.

"Chieftess Yue will see you now," their guide says, gesturing them up the stairs to the main doors. Zuko nods, murmurs a brief thank you, and leads his delegation to meet the Northern Chief for the first time since the war ended. As they reach the doors, a guard clears their throat.

"Introducing," they say, projecting their voice so that whoever's inside can hear, "Fire Lord Zuko, and the Fire Nation delegation!"

The doors swing open.

Yue is sitting at the far end of the room, flanked on either side by men who must be at least twice her age. She rises when he walks in, though none of her councilmen do. Her hair, Zuko realises with a spike of confusion, is no longer the lightning-white he remembers from their one brief encounter during the war; it's fully black now, save for a few thin streaks of white scattered throughout. It makes her look older than she actually is. As she stands there on her dais, dressed in intricate ceremonial robes with even more accessories than Zuko, she truly looks like the leader of a nation.

For a moment, Zuko envies her. 

Then he has no time to think of the fact that they're the same age and she wears the crown so much better than he does, because she's descending the dais. She meets him halfway across the hall, still smiling. It doesn't even look fake.

"Fire Lord Zuko," she acknowledges, bowing at the waist. She does it in the Fire Nation style, as perfect as any Caldera-born noble. 

"Chieftess Yue," Zuko returns, and someone scoffs. He turns his head sharply, but everyone in his delegation is silent, so it must have come from Yue's own council. Yue's smile doesn't falter.

"It's such an honour to finally host the Fire Nation for peace talks," she says, clasping her hands in front of her. "I hope the journey was agreeable?"

"The waters were fine," Zuko says, "but the weather..." He casts a meaningful glance at his shivering ministers. "Less so."

Yue huffs out a brief laugh. "Well, I'm sure you and your retinue will be pleased to know we've had your rooms set up for you," she says. "I'll have the servants show you to them. I'm sure you're all tired; the Caldera to Agna Qel'a isn't a journey for the faint of heart."

And yet it's a journey that countless Fire Nation soldiers had taken just last winter. Zuko keeps his mouth shut, because he's not stupid enough to bring up the Siege, and rattles off some nonsense about thanks and hospitality. Suki gives Yue a small wave as they leave, though from the confused smile Yue gives her, she has no idea who she is.

"Well, she seems nice enough," Suki says, as they follow a servant (who is, again, silent) through the halls of the palace. "What's up with the council, though?"

Zuko shrugs. "They're very traditional here," he says, choosing his words carefully, "and those men are at least the same age as my father. They remember the war better than we do."

Suki goes quiet after that. She peels off to head to her own rooms, leaving Zuko to his own set of guest suites. They're nice, but everything here really is made of ice. If there had never been a war, and Zuko had come here to stay as a child the way young heirs in peacetime were prone to do, he's sure he would've melted something by accident.

Dinner is awful. Yue has obviously tried her best to get the cooks to make Fire Nation dishes in honour of their arrival, but Agna Qel'a has no access to the vegetables and spices that they use in the Fire Nation—and it soon becomes abundantly clear that arctic pig-chicken and regular pig-chicken taste very, very different. Many of Zuko's ministers poke unenthusiastically at the food until he glares them into remembering their manners, and Yue's councilmen sit in stony silence, staring daggers at them all.

Yue herself, seated beside Zuko in a staggering show of trust, is much the same. She eats in silence, and she occasionally leans over to her other side to murmur something to one of her advisors, and she says absolutely nothing at all to Zuko.

When Zuko first informed the rest of Team Avatar about the peace talks, they'd all been excited. Sokka had loudly lamented the fact that they would only get to see Yue at the gala she's hosting next month. As far as Zuko knows, none of them have had contact with her since the Northern Siege.

Aang had said she was 'really nice'. Katara had said she was 'probably the best Chief you could've hoped for'. Sokka had gone on a long tangent about how she was 'the best person ever' before lamenting about how they'd had to break up anyway, which Zuko had tuned out because he'd heard it at least twice before.

But they'd all agreed that Yue was sensible, and perfectly friendly, and that she wouldn't hold a grudge against Zuko for what his nation had done. Or, at the very least, she would hold a grudge but be polite about it. But Yue is distant now, barely acknowledging Zuko unless she has to, which isn't exactly a great omen for their upcoming peace talks tomorrow.

Zuko can't really blame her, though. He knows what happened to her last winter. He was there for some of it, after all, and even if he wasn't, Uncle had filled in the blanks for him in hushed tones, way back when they were floating on a raft through the Northern Sea and watching dead Fire Nation soldiers drift by. 

Here are the facts, as Zuko knows them: Zhao killed the Moon Spirit. To pay back a favour granted to her at birth, Yue offered her life. And, as she lay dying, her father had burst into the Oasis and pleaded the spirits to take him instead.

("It was an awful scene, nephew," Uncle had said quietly, his eyes haunted. "I remember what it feels like to lose a child, and I saw that same feeling echoed on Chief Arnook's face. It must be terrible for young Princess Yue, to remember her father like that.")

Uncle had recited Chief Arnook's last words like they were already recorded into history. It was me who begged you to save her, Chief Arnook had said, clutching his fading daughter in his arms. Let it be me who pays the price.

Obviously, Yue is alive and well, so the spirits must have agreed. Chief Arnook gave his life, though the Moon Spirit still took back most of its blessing from Yue; if the rumours are to be believed, then she spent the first month of her reign bedridden and near death. It explains her new hair, at least. Zuko will admit that the white streaks do look kind of cool.

Yue probably doesn't think it's cool. Yue probably looks at it every day and remembers that her father is dead. Dead because of the Fire Nation, too, which is—such a great thought to have while Zuko, ruler of the Fire Nation, is sitting right next to her. Honestly. 

He sets his spoon down next to his bowl and clears his throat. Yue shoots a quizzical look his way.

"It's, uh," he says, and immediately wants to kick himself for stammering. "It's good to see you well, Chieftess Yue. I heard you were ill."

Yue's council members all snap to attention, fixing Zuko with suspicious glares. Yue smiles, obviously strained, and opens her mouth—

"I don't see how the health of Her Highness is any concern of yours, Fire Lord Zuko," the councilman closest to Yue says. Highness, Zuko notes. Not Majesty. "And where did you hear this, anyway?"

"I just wanted to congratulate her on getting better," Zuko says, his tone a bit harsher than he intended. Guan, his Head of Military, shoots him a sharp look. Great: now Zuko's being glared at by Yue's people and his own. "And I heard of her from the Avatar and his friends."

Yue does seem to thaw a little at that. "And how are they?" she asks, but Zuko doesn't have time to answer that before another of Yue's councilmen is cutting in.

"It's enlightening to know that the Fire Lord gossips about our Chieftess with the Avatar," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Please, do tell."

"I don't gossip," Zuko snaps. "Chieftess Yue and I share some mutual friends, and so—"

Yue holds up a hand, and Zuko shuts his mouth before he can cause an international incident. "Fire Lord Zuko is right, Councilman Aniq," she says pleasantly. "He and I do in fact share some mutual friends, and I'm sure they weren't gossiping. Fire Lord Zuko—" She turns to Zuko now, and she's the same age as him, but it suddenly feels like he's getting scolded. "—I appreciate the concern for my health. It's true, I was unwell for some time. But I'm sure you know that the North has the best healers in the world."

"Of course," Zuko agrees, seizing on the out like a lifeline. "Master Katara's spoken highly of them, and of the combat waterbenders as well."

At that, Yue's polite smile turns a bit more genuine. "Well, I certainly hope we meet your expectations," she says, gesturing at a group of young men in the corner of the hall, "because Master Pakku's best students have a performance to put on."

Zuko's ministers stare slack-jawed at the waterbending display that takes place after that. Zuko's not wholly impressed, considering that he once saw Katara halt a storm in its tracks with nothing but pure rage, but he does appreciate the little trick they do where they twist the water up like a reverse waterfall. He's also supremely grateful for the fact that he doesn't have to speak while the display is happening. He's less likely to make a fool of himself when he's not talking at all.

As soon as it's polite to leave, most of Zuko's ministers mumble their excuses and flee the hall. Zuko stays until Yue stands up, adjusting her heavy purple robes, and turns to him with a fixed smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Fire Lord Zuko," she says, bowing to him again. Zuko hastily stands up and bows back, trying not to Have A Complex about her bow looking even better than his. "I look forward to working with you. I'm sure our talks will go well."

"Likewise, Chieftess Yue," Zuko says, extending his arm for a Water Tribe handshake. Yue stares for a moment, clearly surprised, before she takes it with a faint smile.

Despite the near-constant anxiety in his stomach, Zuko feels a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the peace talks really will go well. 

The peace talks are not going well.

The Northern council chamber is a wide, open space, with vaulted ceilings and seats made of ice. The doors have been left ajar, which had made Suki twitchy, and she'd gone to stand outside them like the world's most paranoid guard dog. The open doors also flood the room with stark white sunlight—it's probably meant as a comfort to the firebenders in the room, but the light reflects off the ice in ways that they're not used to, and Zuko spends the first ten minutes of the morning council session hoping that his squinting isn't too obvious. Or, at the very least, he hopes that he's not as obvious as Minister Parin on his left, who keeps 'casually' trying to lean forward so that Zuko's shadow blocks the light.

And that's another thing: the seating. From what Zuko can gather, the council usually sits around the edges of the room and votes on matters brought forth to them. But, in a concession to the Fire Nation delegation, a long table has been created in the centre of the hall. Zuko sits at one end, Yue at the other, and their various ministers and councilmen are stretched out between them.

This is proving to be a bad seating decision, mostly because Zuko is too far away to kick the shins of his ministers when they start spouting pig-bullshit. Like Shiro, his Minister of Finance, who at this moment is leaning back with a scoff as one of Yue's councilmen finishes his proposal.

"Do you understand what you're asking?" Shiro says snidely, curling his lip at the councilman. "If we paid you that much in reparations, and the Earth Kingdom, and the Southern Water Tribe, we'd barely have enough to feed our own people come next winter. It's not as if we've stolen any farmland from you."

"No, you just laid siege to us," another councilman snarls. This one is by far the youngest—'youngest' meaning, by Zuko's estimation, in his late twenties—and he leans across the table with a dark expression. "You destroyed our city, including six cellars of food stores. You contaminated our drinking water with soot. You desecrated our most sacred site. You killed our Chief!"

At the last words, Zuko glances sharply at Yue. Her face betrays no emotion, but her shoulders tense up. Her hands are folded together on the table, and even from where he's sitting he can see her knuckles go white.

"That may be so, but the fact remains that we simply cannot pay as much as you're demanding," Shiro snaps, once again proving that he's even worse at diplomacy than Zuko is. "Perhaps you should discuss a more reasonable price with your new Chieftess."

The young councilman bristles. "Our Chieftess is a young girl, orphaned by your nation, who cannot possibly understand the nuance of this issue—"

The entire Fire Nation delegation tenses, their gazes flicking to Yue. An insult like that, from one of her own councilmen—

"—though I'm sure that works out just fine for you," the young councilman continues, as Yue...does nothing. Her face doesn't even twitch. "Since you think you can worm your way out of justified repayment—"

"Councilman Silla," someone else says sharply. Not Yue, but the grey-haired councilman to her right. "Control yourself. I'm sure we can work out a compromise that appeases both nations."

"With all due respect, Councilman Tulimaq—"

"Councilman Silla. We may discuss this later. Shall we table the topic for now?"

The young councilman, Silla, scowls but sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. Shiro opens his mouth, but Zuko clears his throat before he can say anything to make it worse.

"Councilman Tulimaq is right," Zuko says, throwing a sharp glare Shiro's way. "Tensions are clearly running high. It's best to set the issue aside for now. Perhaps we could draw up our proposals today, and what we're willing to compromise on, and discuss them tomorrow?" He directs this last part at Tulimaq, who nods curtly. Zuko breathes a silent sigh of relief.

"On to our next topic on the agenda, then," Guan says briskly, adjusting her glasses as she ruffles a sheaf of paper in her hands. "As Head of Military, I'd like to discuss the soldiers that were taken hostage during—"

"And why are we following your agenda?" another councilman says sharply, cutting her off. "The Northern Water Tribe has its own grievances. As the hosts of this meeting, is it not proper for us to guide the conversation?"

Guan bristles. "Shall we do everything to the Northern Water Tribe's liking, then? Need I remind you that these are peace talks? A Fire Nation under the North's thumb is not—"

"Under our thumb? Your nation has been forcing the world to bow for a hundred years!"

"I only meant—"

The table dissolves into squabbling. Zuko closes his eyes. For a moment—just a moment—he fervently wishes he was back in the Western Air Temple. At least, back then, he only had to worry about Katara killing him in his sleep.

"Fire Lord Zuko, I'd like to discuss—"

"My Lord, if I could offer my opinion—"

"I'm going to kill that councilman with the stupid moustache. Fire Lord Zuko, if I could just—"

"I am taking a break," Zuko hisses, and promptly slams the door in his ministers' faces. He takes a moment to breathe meditatively until he's no longer spitting sparks, and then he stalks over to the bed and collapses face-first into the furs.

Uncle, he says in his head, mentally drafting a letter, the peace talks are going badly. My ministers are driving me insane. The Northern council is fighting us at every turn. I am freezing my ass off. Is it too late to come back to the teashop?

He can already imagine Uncle's reaction: an obnoxious belly laugh, an offer to hide in the teashop for a week or two, and a proverb that will make Zuko even more confused than he already is. He groans into the furs and tries not to think too hard about the amount of papers he'll have to draw up for the second round of talks tomorrow.

There's a knock on the door.

"I said I was taking a break!" Zuko shouts.

"Do you ever chill out?" Suki says snippishly through the door. "It's just me. Can I come in, or do you need more time to throw your temper tantrum?"

"I am not—"

"Sure, Fire Lord Hotman."

"Don't call me that!"

"Can I come in or not?"

Zuko buries his face in the furs and lets out a short but cathartic scream. Then he sits up and spits out the hairs that are now clinging to his tongue. Ew. 

"Zuko."

"Yes, fine, whatever, come in—"

The door slides open. Since they're made of ice, the doors here don't creak—they squeak instead, a horrible high-pitched sound that hurts Zuko's ears. He winces, and Suki, slipping into his room, rolls her eyes. 

"You're such a baby," she says, and tosses a scroll at him. It smacks him in the face. "Here. I went around and got all your snobby ministers to write down their—" She makes air quotes with her fingers. "'Grievances' with today's talks. It's, um..."

Zuko unrolls the scroll. And keeps unrolling.

"...it's a lot."

"You don't say," Zuko says dryly. 

Suki spreads her hands. "Listen, you don't have to solve it all tonight. You can table some of them for now. Like, look, this one by Parin—he's just complaining about the sun. The sun. What are you supposed to do about the sun?"

"But I do have to solve it all by tonight," Zuko snaps. "We haven't even managed to settle on one thing of the agenda yet, and I promised that councilman that we'd have our proposals by tomorrow—ugh! Why did I say that? I'm so stupid!" He drives the heels of his palms into his eyes like it will stop the headache blooming in his temples. "I should just hand everything back to Uncle and let him run it."

"Yes, let the Dragon of the West conduct peace talks, I'm sure that'll go so well," Suki says, and then pokes him in the side. "Look, I don't want you running yourself into the ground on the first day. How about I impersonate Aang? He'd be able to get you to have a bit of fun, right?"

"Suki. I order you to not—"

"'Come on, Sifu Hotman! Let's go to the night market! I wanna check out all the stalls!'"

"That Aang voice was horrifying. Never do that again."

"'But Sifu Hotman!'"

"No."

"Ugh," Suki says, dropping the squeaky high-pitched voice she'd been using to impersonate Aang. "You're no fun, you know that?"

"You're right," Zuko says. "I'm not fun. I'm the Fire Lord. Fire Lords aren't fun."

"Would you drop the teenage moodiness for just one second—"

She's interrupted by another knock on the door. "Fire Lord Zuko?" a nasal voice calls, and Zuko sighs. 

"Yes, Shiro?" he asks wearily.

"I've got the proposals for reparation negotiations drawn up for tomorrow," Shiro says. "I'll need to have you look over them, my Lord."

"In a moment, Shiro," Zuko says, as he resists the urge to jump out the window. He sends a see? Told you so look at Suki, who rolls her eyes.

"Duty fucking calls," he tells her under his breath, and pushes himself upright so he can open the door. "Alright, Shiro. What's the new proposal?"

"Well, firstly, I've demanded that the Northern Tribe review their claim that one bu of buffalo yak hide is worth two of komodo rhino leather. It simply isn't viable—"

Zuko can already tell that it's going to be a long night.

The weeks drag on. The talks don't get better. In fact, they get worse. It's late spring now, getting close to summer, and in the North Pole that means that the sun is in the sky almost all day long.

For a firebender in the North Pole, that means constantly feeling pent-up and full of restless energy. Every night, Zuko gets less and less sleep. He's starting to feel a little frantic. Usually, he'd let off steam by whaling on a few dummies with his swords or his bending, but that's not exactly an option here, so he's become snappy—well, snappier—with his ministers instead. The ministers who are benders snap right back, while the nonbenders struggle to adjust to a healthy sleeping schedule in a place where there's almost always sunlight. 

All in all, it's not a good combination. They've finally settled on suitable reparations for the war, though Shiro had debased himself to throwing personal insults—

("I'll rip that stupid moustache right off your face!" he'd shouted at Councilman Aniq. Much to Zuko's embarrassment, he had to be physically wrestled out of the council chambers.)

—and Guan nearly melted the table after Councilman Tulimaq scoffed at the idea of a woman leading the military—

("Women simply aren't made for high-stress roles such as this," Tulimaq had said, shaking his head at the new handprint on the table edge. "Far too emotional. It's barbaric of the Fire Nation to force women to—"

"Oh, I'll show you how emotional I am!"

"Suki, GRAB HER—")

—and they still haven't had any official agreements made, because, for some inexplicable reason, Yue has yet to sign anything. In fact, she's barely said anything. Every time Zuko tries to engage her directly, one of her councilmen answers before she can. The most she ever does is simply defuse situations. To her credit, there are a lot of situations that need defusing, and Yue is very good at it. She's much better at it than Zuko, who's more likely to start the situation himself.

But still. It's starting to piss Zuko off. He keeps trying to figure out their game, but he can't think of anything. Does the Northern Water Tribe simply think that their Chieftess is too good to speak to him?

The latest topic of argument is the divvying up of trade routes. Zuko watches, his head propped up on one hand, as Minister Parin loses his mind a little over the map that the Northern Water Tribe's spread out over the table.

"This port has been Fire Nation territory for fifty years! Why do you still have it labelled as Earth Kingdom?"

"Does the Fire Nation not intend to give back all the lands it's stolen?"

"Yes, within reason. The currency in this area has already switched to the ban."

"And they can switch again."

"Do you have any idea how much that will cost? The metal wastage alone—"

And so on and so forth. The councilman that Parin is arguing with is clearly a waterbender, because the more he and Parin fight, the more cracks appear in the ice around them. Zuko makes uneasy eye contact with Yue across the table.

She looks older than her age. There's a downwards tilt to her mouth, and her eyes bounce from her councilman to Parin and back again like she's analysing how long this fight will last. When she meets Zuko's gaze, he tips his head questioningly in Parin's direction.

Yue blinks once, as if clearing sleep from her eyes, and then gives him a small but firm nod. Zuko could cry from relief. In near-perfect sync, he and Yue push their chairs back and rise to their feet. The table falls silent.

"Minister Parin," Zuko says. Parin swallows and sits back in his seat.

"Councilman Yutu," Yue says. Yutu doesn't have the same reaction that Parin did to Zuko, though he does give Yue a curt nod of acknowledgment. "I propose that we adjourn this meeting for now. It's getting late, and I'm sure we could all use a meal."

"Well said, Chieftess Yue," Zuko says. "All in favour?"

Everyone but Parin and Yutu raise their hands. Zuko and Yue both nod, dismissing their respective advisors, and watch as the ministers and councilmen all get to their feet and shuffle out in a discontent huddle.

"Fire Lord Zuko, a word?" Yue asks. Zuko stops in his tracks, sharing a look with Suki at the doors; some of Yue's councilmen come to a halt as well, turning around.

"Your highness, surely one of us should accompany you," one of them says. He tosses a disdainful glance Zuko's way. "It's not wise to leave you and the Fire Lord alone. Surely it's a security risk for the both of you."

"Only in a city where we are at threat, Councilman Tarkik," Yue says, in a pleasant voice that's not actually all that pleasant. "I have my full trust in the people of Agna Qel'a. And besides, the doors will be open, and Fire Lord Zuko's bodyguard will be present. I'm sure we can manage."

Tarkik's mouth twitches, his gaze darting briefly to Suki. Obviously, he doesn't want to leave Yue with Zuko's bodyguard, but his Chieftess has dismissed him. He leaves the council chambers while constantly throwing a few suspicious glances over his shoulder.

Zuko turns to Yue. In the dimming sunlight—though, of course, the sun won't set completely for hours yet—she looks infinitely tired. Zuko knows the feeling. "Chieftess Yue?"

"I simply had a request," she says, sounding weary. She glances at the huge map spread out on the council table. "Did you or your ministers bring any maps with you?"

Zuko thinks for a moment. He's not entirely sure, but he'd be an idiot to assume that Parin didn't bring a dozen maps with him for any occasion. "I'm sure we can find one."

"That's..." Yue blows out a breath. "That's good to know, Fire Lord Zuko. I'd appreciate it if you could bring one to tomorrow's talks. As I'm sure you've noticed, our maps are a little..." She grimaces. "Outdated."

Zuko raises a brow. "You want to use the Fire Nation's maps?"

Yue shrugs. "They would be helpful in understanding where the world stands at the moment," she says. "My tribe has been isolated for a very long time, Fire Lord Zuko. My councilmen mean well, but they do not yet understand the need to bridge the past and the present." She bows to him, her black-white hair slipping over her shoulder. "Thank you for indulging my request. As always, there will be dinner in the main hall, should you wish to eat."

She's off before Zuko can return the goodbye, sweeping out of the hall and into the streets of Agna Qel'a. Suki drifts closer, both her and Zuko watching Yue's retreating back.

"She's a good leader," Suki observes. 

"She is," Zuko agrees, feeling that spike of envy again. Yue just seems...so much more put-together. Her vision for the future of her nation is so much clearer than his. She doesn't have to look over her shoulder at every turn.

"If only they'd actually let her talk in the meetings," Suki says, with a touch of derision. Her opinion of the Northern council has dropped drastically ever since they insulted Guan for being a woman.

"She's the Chieftess," Zuko says sourly. "She can talk if she wants to."

"Can she?" Suki raises a brow. "She can speak, sure, but can she talk?"

"What does that even mean? There's no difference."

"Yes, there is," Suki says—and there's something in her face, a bitterness to her voice, that makes Zuko drop the topic.

The locals warm up a little, eventually. Zuko encourages his ministers to go out and see as much of Agna Qel'a as they can. It's not good for their image if they stay cooped up in the palace all the time, so tentatively, his ministers venture out into the city over the weeks. Zuko instructs Suki to keep tabs on them; he'll have to appoint a Northern Ambassador eventually, and it's good to know who's already making friends.

Zuko himself isn't afforded the same luxury. He spends most of his time in his suite, poring over agreements and contracts that have been written and rewritten a dozen times. Suki checks in on him periodically, ensuring that he eats and sleeps.

"You could delegate most of this, you know," she says one night, glancing at a contract that Zuko's reading over. Shiro's handwriting is obnoxiously cramped, so he really has to squint to read it. "It's what Yue does."

Zuko jerks his head up. "You've been talking to Yue?"

Suki shrugs, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "She's nice," she says. "I see why Sokka liked her. We've been bonding over that, actually. You know, seeing as she actually has the time to talk to other people, unlike you."

Zuko frowns. So: Yue doesn't talk in the meetings, and she delegates most of her work to her council. Sure, there's no right way of running a country, but Zuko can't help but feel a bit frustrated at the fact that he seems to be putting a lot more effort into this than she is. They're equals, and they should act like it. 

That seed of frustration grows the more he observes Yue during their council meetings. Here's what he doesn't understand: Yue is the Chieftess, and yet she speaks the least. Alright, fine, Azulon and Ozai had done their fair share of sitting on their throne while the ministers squabbled at their feet. Maybe it's a 'I'm better than you' thing. That's not what Zuko is confused about.

No, what he's confused about is the fact that she speaks the least, even though she clearly wants to speak. Every time she opens her mouth to offer her opinion on something, one of her councilmen will lean in to mutter in her ear, like they're hastily advising her on what to say. She's rarely given the time to propose new topics. When she does speak, it's usually just formal jargon, gently steering them away from an argument or suggesting that the council take a break.

Also, her council keeps insulting her. When Minister Shiro addresses her as 'your Majesty', as is proper for the ruler of a nation, all the councilmen get a look on their face like they've just swallowed something sour. They claim, in broad daylight and to foreign dignitaries, that Yue cannot understand this, or that she's too fragile to handle that, or that their questions should be directed at any one of the councilmen to avoid stressing out the Chieftess.

The Chieftess should be stressed out. It's her nation. And every time one of her councilmen insults her, Yue just lets it happen. She sits there with a clenched jaw and steely eyes and white-knuckled hands and says absolutely jackshit. If Azula was spoken to like that, she would've burned the offender to a crisp and then cut off the ears of anyone who dared to hear the insult.

Zuko doesn't get it. It's one thing if the ruler is an incompetent anxious mess (cough, Earth King Kuei), but Yue is good at her job. She's frustratingly good—she comes up with fair compromises and clearly puts her nation first. A prodigy, in a sense, just like nearly all the people in Zuko's life. She's better than Zuko, which genuinely makes him angry, because if she's so good then why doesn't she use it?

The frustration simmers for days, stoked by the ever-present sun and the surplus of energy under Zuko's skin. It comes close to a boil one day, as the council is finishing up a surprisingly civil session and Minister Guan clears her throat.

"I don't mean to overstep," she says carefully, "but I've noticed that, by now, we have three agreements that have been signed by the Fire Nation, and none by the Northern Water Tribe." She cuts a critical glance towards Yue. "Is there a reason for the delay? Shall we go over the terms again?"

Councilman Tulimaq raises a quelling hand. "No, no, no need," he says. "We simply feel it is better if we don't rush into things. The council will deliberate, and by the end of the month—"

"Why do you need the council?" Zuko interrupts.

Councilman Tulimaq's mouth snaps shut. He stares at Zuko, as does the rest of the table. Zuko folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair.

"The council's already gone over it," Zuko points out brusquely. "That's the whole point of..." He gestures over the council table. "This. Do you mean to tell me that we've spent weeks working out those agreements for nothing?"

Councilman Tulimaq's brow is furrowed. "Not at all, Fire Lord Zuko," he says. "I only meant that, before Chieftess Yue signs, she must be advised to ensure there are no rash decisions—"

"Rash? I wouldn't call days of reworking rash, Councilman Tulimaq." Zuko tilts his chin up in a silent challenge and stares at Yue from across the table. "The only person who needs to think about the agreement now is Chieftess Yue. So, Chieftess, can I ask why you're dragging your feet?"

"My Lord!" Parin hisses from beside him. Zuko ignores him. He locks eyes with Yue, who stares back. 

She stares back. She's not backing down, or looking away. She holds his gaze. She has an answer, he can tell. Now if she would just fucking say it, like she so obviously wants to do...

Yue wets her lips. "I—"

"There's no need to answer, Chieftess," Tulimaq interrupts. "Fire Lord Zuko, I assure you—"

"I'm not asking you, I'm asking her," Zuko snaps. There's a sharp inhale all around the table. "Chieftess Yue?"

Yue stares at him a moment longer. Her eyes narrow, just the tiniest bit, and she sits up straighter in her chair.

"My council, you are dismissed," she says, to a rumble of displeased mutters from her advisors. "I think this is a conversation that Fire Lord Zuko and I should have in private."

"Agreed," Zuko says coolly. "My council, you are dismissed as well. So is my bodyguard."

Guan leans in. "My Lord—"

"Dismissed."

Guan pushes her chair back with a bit more force than is necessary. Suki is the last one to leave, shooting looks at Zuko over her shoulder. Zuko waits until he hears the door slam shut behind her.

Across the table, Yue folds her hands together. Her posture is perfect; even Ozai wouldn't have been able to fault her for it. The thought makes Zuko even more irritated—she's so good at this, takes to it like a fish to water, and yet she won't fucking do anything when it comes to the things that actually matter.

He means to start things off diplomatically. This is Yue, leader of the Northern Water Tribe, and if he offends her it could be disastrous. He knows he should approach this slowly, politely.

Unfortunately, Zuko's anger has always gotten the better of him.

"Well?" he snaps. Yue meets his eyes, and her cool gaze reminds him uncannily of Azula. They're nowhere near similar, of course, but...

But Yue has that same intelligence in her face, that same calculating cleverness. She probably won't use it to take down any cities, but Zuko still recognises it. She's a good politician. A good leader. This kind of thing comes to her innately. 

She's not like Zuko. 

"You're right," Yue says, which is unexpected. "The contracts have been looked over and agreed upon by everyone, including my council. There's no reason for me not to sign. In fact, I would love to sign them."

"Then why don't you?"  Zuko bursts out, suddenly loud. Yue looks taken aback, but Zuko leans forward, flattening his palms on the table. 

"You don't talk in the meetings," he hisses. "You don't work. You don't sign. You let your councilmen do everything for you. We're equals, Chieftess Yue, whether you like it or not. If you think my time is worth less than yours—"

"I let my councilmen do everything?" Yue's voice sharpens. Ah. So she does know how to act like she has an opinion. "Fire Lord Zuko, I think you've sorely misunderstood the situation. I do not let my councilmen do anything. They demand to. If I could sign the contracts, I would. I've read them a dozen times, and I know it's the best compromise we'll get. Things may be different in the Fire Nation, where they allow women to run the military—"

"If you have a problem with that—"

"I don't have a problem!" Yue snaps. It's the first time Zuko's seen her be anything but pleasant or mildly scolding. "I have the opposite of a problem! What's your problem?!"

"My problem is that you're not doing shit!" Zuko roars, shooting to his feet. His chair clatters to the floor behind him. "You just—sit there, doing nothing, when you're the Chieftess—"

"I am a woman!"  Yue yells, rising to her feet too. She reaches forward and snatches up a paper: the latest contract they'd agreed on. The ink is still drying, but Yue is careful to not smudge the characters. "You see this, Lord Zuko? You can sign this whenever you want. I can't! I have to listen to a bunch of crotchety old men argue for hours about whether or not I'm too stupid to understand the terms before they even let me near the brush!"

She flings the contract at him. It flutters uselessly in the air, but Zuko catches it (and swears, as his thumb immediately smears a corner of the page). 

"I want to sign, but they won't let me," she snarls. "You want to know why it's taking so long? I'll tell you: they're debating over whether they have to get one of them to sign it in my stead, because my poor, stupid woman brain obviously can't comprehend it. They won't let me do anything."

"You don't need them to let you!" Zuko snarls right back. "You're the Chieftess. Just tell them to fuck off or something if they're so—"

"Oh, sure, I'm the Chieftess," she scoffs. "Like that means anything! Did you know, Fire Lord Zuko, that here in the North, Chieftess refers to the Chief's wife?" She huffs out a laugh, and it sounds hollow. "There's no word for a female Chief. It's not allowed. My situation was unprecedented, and now I'm just a—a face for everyone to stare at while my councilmen refuse to let me so much as look at a trade proposal." 

Unprecedented. Such a simple word to describe the enormity of what happened to her: her father dead, her health failing, her Tribe suffering from the worst damage they'd felt in a hundred years. And all at the hands of the Fire Nation. Zuko watches her as she braces both her hands on the table and wonders if she hates him.

"There's no point in having power if no one ever listens to you," Yue says bitterly. "I can give all the orders I want and they'll still just call me a confused little girl. At least your ministers respect you."

Now it's Zuko's turn to scoff disbelievingly. "You think my ministers respect me?" he asks. "They think I'm an incompetent child." And they're right, he adds inside his head. "They know I couldn't have gotten the throne without the Avatar. They call me boy-king behind my back!"

"Oh, who cares?" Yue snaps. "At least they're still calling you king. You'll grow up eventually, and they'll respect you then. My councilmen keep calling me highness because there's never been a Her Majesty before." She looks up at him, her face dark. "I envy you, Fire Lord Zuko. I really do."

"Then you're insane," Zuko bites back. "If anything, I envy you. You're just like my sister—this kind of thing just comes easy to you, doesn't it? All the—the diplomacy, and the court speech, and—"

"Easy?" Yue says incredulously. "Easy? I have been—I work day and night for this! I have no fucking idea what I'm doing!"

That, of all things, is what snaps Zuko out of his indignant rage. He stares at her from across the table, his brow furrowing, because there's no way he heard that right. Yue stares back. Some of her hair has come undone with her outburst, black and white strands falling into her face. In the silence of the council hall, their breathing is loud.

"What?" Zuko says, his voice suddenly much quieter. "But you're so..." He gestures uselessly. Competent, he means to say. Diplomatic. Proper.

Yue's mouth quirks to one side. "Thank you," she says, also much quieter, "but I really don't know what I'm doing. One moment I was convinced I was going to die—I'd accepted it, even. And then my father was dead and my body was failing me and the Tribe was looking to me to be the next Chief. My father's never trained me for being Chief—what was I supposed to do?"

"That's stupid," Zuko says automatically, only to backpedal when Yue's brows draw together. "Sorry, I just—I meant—why didn't you get trained for this? Weren't you the only heir?"

Yue smiles thinly. "Yes, but I was only ever meant to be the Chief's wife," she says, with the weariness of something well-practiced. "I was betrothed, but my fiance..."

She hesitates. Zuko thinks back to the last time he was in the Northern Water Tribe, and understands with a grimace.

"I'm sorry," he offers, but she shakes her head.

"It was arranged," she says. "And I never liked him, anyway. But of course, he didn't deserve to die, and him and my father's deaths left the Tribe without a man to lead them. It was just me, and, well..." She shrugs, a little helplessly. "The council voted against it, at first. They wanted me to appoint one of them as Regent Chief until I married and bore a son."

Zuko can't help but make a face at that. He imagines it: knowing he could help, knowing he could do something, and being shafted in favour of a child that didn't exist yet. He thinks he might've burned something to the ground.

"I refused. Clearly." She drums her fingers on the table. "But now they've all taken it upon themselves to speak over me, and to explain things to me because they assume I don't understand. Every time I speak, one of them tries to coach me through what to say. I know what to say. And when I make a mistake, I see the way they look at me, and it's just—ugh!"

She's picking up steam now. What's Zuko meant to do in this situation? He looks around frantically, but there's no one in sight. There's no one here to witness their Chieftess—no, Zuko thinks. Their Chief—slowly lose her mind.

She reminds him, absurdly, of a teapot boiling over. As she keeps talking, her voice growing louder and her face getting more screwed up, Zuko realises she's been keeping this in for a while. For longer than the peace talks, even. Maybe for as long as she's been Chief.

Then he looks, and he can see an anger in her face that's old and bitter and running deep, and he thinks: maybe this has been simmering for as long as she's been alive.

"They can't just decide you can't do anything because you're a girl," he says, when Yue pauses for breath. "That's idiotic. You're better at this than I am."

"It's never stopped them before," she snaps. "But what did they think would happen? My father never taught me to be a chief, and none of them are going to either! No, they'll all just sit around and make faces and talk behind my back and blame it all on me being a girl—" She takes a deep breath, then bursts out: "They should be blaming it on the fact that I'm seventeen and my father is dead!"

Her voice echoes off the walls of the council chamber. There's an undercurrent of pain there, raw and awful, and Zuko feels a hot flush of shame at the reminder of what his nation has done. He tugs at the fur lining of his sleeves and waits for her to continue, utterly out of his depth. Yue takes a few more breaths, then wipes furiously at her face. Oh, Agni, Zuko realises, horrified. She's crying.

"And I've been trying to teach myself," she says, her voice cracking. Unbidden, Zuko's thoughts jump to his own late nights spent in the library, studying the pre-war policies of his ancestors. "I've been reading all the old histories to figure out what works. But all of our maps are a hundred years old, and we have no real allies because we shut ourselves off for a century, and there's all these things like—like import taxes!" She slams a hand down on the table, loud enough that Zuko jumps a bit. "We haven't had import taxes since before the war because we didn't import! And now you're telling me I have to negotiate all these prices and rates with men twice my age who know way more about it than I do? And that my own council won't help me because they think I'm just a stupid little girl? It's—it's so—"

"It's not fair," Zuko supplies quietly, when Yue's words seem to fail her. She slaps the table again.

"It's not fair!" she all but shouts. "Why couldn't I just have been born a boy? This would all be so easy if I was just—if I just—"

She breaks off into a choked sound and turns away, her shoulders hitching. Zuko hesitates. Should he...go around and pat her on the back? No, that feels too close. Maybe some consoling words.

"That's rough, buddy," he offers. Yue doesn't respond.

"I'm sorry," she says, muffled by her sleeve. "I'm sure you don't want to listen to this. And it's not proper for me to talk bad about my own council. Really, Fire Lord Zuko—"

"You should just yell at them," Zuko says. He's not expecting to say it until he actually says it, so when Yue turns to look at him, he's just as surprised as she is.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just yell," Zuko says, because he might as well keep going. "Show them that they're not allowed to disrespect you. You're the Chief, not them."

Yue sighs. "That might work for you, but—"

"It doesn't," he says. When Yue's brow scrunches in confusion, he clarifies: "It doesn't work for me. It just makes them see me as even more of an angry kid who doesn't know what he's doing. But it also tells them that they can only call me names where they think I can't hear them."

Yue frowns. "Then there's no point," she says. "Why would I want to reinforce what they think of me? I should be proving that I can do whatever a man can. I should—"

"You don't need to prove yourself to them," Zuko says harshly, because she's being stupid and she should know it. "You prove yourself to your nation and no one else. And you prove yourself to your nation by actually fucking doing something. Not by sitting around and slowly convincing your council that you have a brain. If your actions have results, then who cares what a bunch of old men think? Let them be angry. It won't change a thing."

He looks down at the contract in his hand and picks up his seal, lying abandoned in its little tray on the table. One stamp and it's done: the red seal of Fire Lord Zuko, printed definitively on the bottom of the page and signifying the Fire Nation's agreement. With a flick of his wrist, Zuko sends the contract sliding back across the table.

"There," he says, crossing his arms. Yue glances at the contract, then back up at him. "My ministers might call me an impulsive brat for this, but when we start getting favourable imports from the North, they won't be able to argue. Your turn."

Yue's eyes dart to the doors her councilmen had exited through, then back at the contract in her hand. By all rights, it would be fine for her to sign. Everyone in both councils agreed on it not even an hour ago. Zuko has already signed. If the Northern Water Tribe had an ounce of reason, none of them would have an issue with Yue signing right now. 

Her hand reaches for a brush. It's not hers, because she doesn't actually have one; she reaches for Councilman Tulimaq's instead, with an elegant bone handle. 

She signs. 

"By order of the Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation," Yue says, lifting her gaze to meet Zuko's, "this contract is effective immediately. Are we in agreement, Fire Lord Zuko?"

For the first time since they met, Zuko is the first one to bow to her. "We are, Chief Yue," he says. "This meeting is adjourned."

When Yue bows back, it's not quite deep enough to hide her grin. 

When the council reconvenes the next morning, the Northern councilmen all look like they've just eaten something disgusting. They sit stiffly in their seats, trading glances with each other. In contrast, Yue looks more relaxed than she has in days. That tightness around her eyes, the rigidity to her spine, has all but disappeared.

"I'm glad to inform the Fire Nation delegation that all agreements so far have now been signed," Yue says delicately, handing out the agreements in question for Zuko's ministers to review. She's obviously told her councilmen beforehand, because none of them will make eye contact with her and they avoid the agreement papers like the plague. On Zuko's right, Minister Guan reaches for the nearest paper and scans it, her brow furrowed. Minister Parin looks from Yue to Zuko to the papers and back again, like he's trying to connect the dots of whatever happened yesterday afternoon.

When no one moves to break the silence, Zuko clears his throat. "I believe we agreed to come back to the matter of free trade policies for certain products," he says, peeking at Guan's binder to confirm he's got it right. "Chief Yue, what are your thoughts?"

At Yue's right, Councilman Tulimaq splutters. "Fire Lord Zuko, I hardly think—"

"Well," Yue says, cutting him off smoothly, "our two nations have very different demands, Fire Lord Zuko. What products are you willing to give up tax on?"

Finally, Zuko thinks with satisfaction, as Yue smiles shrewdly at him over the table. He gestures for Parin to pull out the list of products they can afford to put under free trade. She's doing her fucking job.

It is a (relatively) warm night in Agna Qel'a, and Zuko is a runaway teenager. Yue is also a runaway teenager, though, so that's okay. 

"Shh—shhh! If Yutu catches us—" Yue hiccups, and Zuko snorts out a laugh. "Stop laughing! If Yutu catches us, he'll be death-glaring me for a week!"

"How's that different to his usual glare?"

"You'll know it when you—hic—see it." 

"Agni's tits, you're a lightweight," Zuko says wondrously, and Yue shushes him again. Her cheeks are flushed, and her gaze is glassy. Definitely lightweight.

She's dragged him to a quiet part of the city in an attempt to escape the peace talks. Her councilmen have been insufferable ever since she signed the agreements without consulting them, even though they've been consulted like a million times, and Zuko's ministers have been insufferable right back like a kind of defense mechanism. Yue does her best to move them along, but the councilmen seem determined to slow them down as much as possible.

In short, the peace talks are suffocating. This afternoon, as Zuko attempted to spend their recess session meditating away the energy of a sun that's staying up longer and longer every day, Yue had tapped him on the shoulder, revealed a bottle of unidentifiable liquid tucked into her sleeve, and whispered, "Should we leave early?"

So now they're here: hiding under a—a bridge? Yes, that's a bridge. Zuko hadn't known the bottle in Yue's hand was alcoholic until she offered him a swig and he nearly spat it out, but now it's half-empty and there's a pleasant burn in his chest. He can only imagine the absolute chaos the council room must be in by now, once they realise that neither Zuko nor Yue are coming back from the break session.

"Do you think they think we've been murdered?" he asks Yue idly. She makes a face.

"Ugh, I hope not," she says. "There'll be so many people involved if we get murdered."

"No, not actually murdered, I meant if they think...never mind. Do you even understand what I'm saying right now?"

"Perfectly," Yue says, turning up her nose. "I'm a well-educated lady, thank you very much."

Zuko shakes his head, reaching out to take the bottle from Yue's increasingly clumsy fingers. He's sure none of the others have ever seen Yue drunk, but he also thinks that this is closer to the Yue they met. She's warmer towards him now, less distant, more willing to be an actual person and not a picture-perfect royal. He thinks they might be actual friends. It's...nice.

Footsteps crunch in the snow not too far away. Zuko and Yue both freeze.

"Zuko!" Suki shouts, and they both relax. "Zuko! Chief Yue!"

Zuko pokes his head out from their little alcove under the bridge. Suki is standing on the edge of the canal—alone, thank Agni—scanning the area around her frantically. Yue shoves her head out too.

"Suki!" she says brightly, and Suki's head snaps in their direction. She gapes at them for a moment, then practically sprints towards them.

"Zuko, you—Yue—what?"

"You found us!" Yue beams, reaching out to grab Suki's sleeve and drag her into the alcove with them. Suki lands with an oof. The alcove is starting to get cramped. "You're such—hic—a good bodyguard."

Suki stares at her, then turns to Zuko. The look on her face is downright murderous.

"Are you," she says slowly, "drunk?"

"I'm tipsy," Zuko clarifies, holding up a finger. "Yue is drunk because she's a lightweight."

"Am not."

"Am too!"

"Am not!"

"You're hiccuping every other word. You definitely are."

"No, you're—"

"So let me get this straight," Suki says, rubbing her temple with two fingers. "The two of you ran off, got drunk—"

"Tipsy."

"Drunk," Suki says viciously, "and hid under a bridge when you were supposed to be at the peace talks. And you didn't tell anyone. Do I have that right?"

"If you had to deal with Parin and Yutu in the same room for three weeks straight, you'd run off with alcohol too," Zuko says darkly. 

"Yes, but without telling anyone, Zuko?! Do you have any idea what this looks like?"

"Like we've been—hic—murdered," Yue says, nodding sagely. "That's what Zuko said."

Suki stares at her. "Kyoshi's flying fans, we can't take her back like this," she mutters. "They'll figure it out immediately. We'll have to wait it out." She runs a hand through her hair and shoots a glare Zuko's way. "Coming to work for you was the worst decision I ever made."

Zuko shrugs in wordless apology, then offers her the bottle. "If you're staying, do you want some?"

"I'm on the job!"

"So are we, technically."

Suki eyes the bottle for a moment, then sniffs it tentatively. She reels back, coughing.

"Oh my—what is in this?"

"No idea. But it explains why Yue's like that when we haven't even finished half the bottle."

Suki sniffs again. 

"Fine," she says, and Yue gives a small cheer that's immediately shushed by the other two. "I'll try it. But just a sip, you hear me? That's all."

"Zuko. Zuko, wake up. Zuko!"

"Ow—I'm up, fuck, I'm—huh? Where are we right now?"

"The catamaran houses. This is where we keep the practice ones for the kids."

"...And why are we in a catamaran?"

"I was hoping you'd know. I was also hoping you'd know why we have this."

"What—what is that?"

"Sea boar-q-pine."

"Sea what?"

"It's alright, this one's just a baby. But it's stuck to my sleeve. If you could just grab it right under the spines and pull—"

"I am not touching that thing!"

"Will you two shut up? My head feels like I took a beating from the Unagi."

"Suki? Where are you? I can't see you."

"You really think I can open my eyes right now? Just follow the sound of my voice or something. You're the expert on hunting people."

"Only with Aang—wait. Suki, don't move."

"Huh?"

"You're, um. You're upside down—"

"—took Fire Lord Zuko on a tour of the city last night," Yue says smoothly, impressively composed as she stares down a suspicious-looking Yutu. "His bodyguard accompanied us. I was under the impression that the council was made aware."

"We were not," Yutu says sharply. At Zuko's side, Suki winces at the sudden volume. "Your Highness—"

"Majesty," Yue corrects. Yutu audibly grinds his teeth.

"Your Majesty," he amends. "I'm glad to see you and Fire Lord Zuko getting along, but you must tell us if you decide to—"

Zuko tunes him out. 

As the Fire Nation delegation's scheduled time in Agna Qel'a draws to a close, they finally hit a spike in productivity. They finish off all their loose ends, and Guan hits all the topics she wanted to check off her agenda. Yue's new involvement in the meetings is a huge help. She claims she doesn't know what she's doing, but it really does come to her easily: she shoots down arguments before they can happen, soothes flared tempers (unlike Zuko, who stokes them), and she's mastered the art of strategically timing snack breaks so that no one starts getting snappy out of hunger.

Zuko envies her still, but in the same way he sometimes envies Katara or Toph for their bending prowess. They're in this together, after all: two teenage monarchs against the world, as Suki had jokingly said one day.

As Zuko's workload winds down, Yue's workload picks up. She's hosting a gala, planned months in advance, to celebrate the first moves of peace between the Fire Nation and the Northern Tribe in over a hundred years. The rest of Team Avatar will be present, and Zuko can't wait to see more friendly faces. He's starting to get sick of Suki's.

("Well, I'm getting sick of your face. Like I said: worst job ever."

"I pay you! I pay you well!"

"Not well enough.")

The council starts taking more and more off days, and Yue starts disappearing more and more into the heart of the palace, where she helps organise food and entertainment. Zuko finds himself wandering Agna Qel'a, most often with Suki trailing behind him. The locals give him a wide berth, and some mothers pull their children behind them as he passes, but at least no one calls him names or tries to take his life.

"Your standards are so low," Suki says, peering over the canal as Zuko sits down heavily on the steps of a bridge. "Is not trying to kill you really your bare minimum?"

"Well, it's not exactly the universal standard, so yes," Zuko snaps. He tugs restlessly at his collar. It's evening now, but the sun is still shining down on them relentlessly, and he feels like he's constantly a little drunk.

There's a sound at the bottom of the bridge. Zuko and Suki both snap to attention, but it's just Yue, hurrying up the steps.

"Oh, good, you're both here," she says, and promptly ducks behind Suki. "Hide me."

"What?"

Yue, crouching on the bridge so that no one will see her from the bottom, simply puts a finger to her lips. Then there's the sound of people running through the snow, and Councilman Tulimaq turns the corner, accompanied by a handful of guards.

He bows hastily when he catches sight of Zuko on the steps. "Fire Lord Zuko. Have you seen Chieftess Yue?"

"I'm afraid not, Councilman."

Tulimaq scowls. "I see. Please inform a council member at once if you do." 

He moves on, taking the guards with him. Zuko waits for the sound of their footsteps to fade before turning back to look at Yue.

"Care to explain?"

Yue shrugs, standing up and dusting off her robes. "The gala is all but finished with preparations," she says. "Clearly, that means my time is now free to think about my marriage prospects. Councilman Tulimaq has a son." She thinks for a second, then adds, "He's twenty-four."

Suki makes a face. Zuko feels much the same.

Yue just sighs and moves forward to sit down on the steps beside Zuko, tugging a fan out of Suki's belt as she passes. "It's alright," she says, fidgeting with it. "They can't force me to agree to anything. But they keep telling me it's important to keep up appearances, and that I should have a date for the gala so that the Earth Kingdom doesn't..." She sighs again, but it's more huffy this time. "So they don't see that the Northern Tribe is run by an unmarried woman and realise that we're weak."

"Weak?" Zuko says in disbelief, as Suki's expression turns dark. "You terrified my ministers into giving you the better trade deal! I had to talk them out of it!"

"The Earth Kingdom's not quite as flexible on what they think women can be," Suki says sourly, curling a finger around a lock of her hair and tugging. "When the men leave for war, suddenly we're acknowledged to be capable of anything they can do, but otherwise..."

"What about the army?" Zuko asks, baffled. "Didn't the Earth Kingdom have forced conscription? That's how they did it in the Fire Nation. Gender doesn't matter."

"Ah, yes, the pinnacle of gender equality: forced military service," Suki says dryly. "All hail the Fire Nation for their wonderfully progressive views."

Zuko's temper flares. "I meant—"

"I know what you meant," Suki snaps back. "Would you stop taking everything so personally for once?"

"You insulted my nation!"

"It was a joke. You know, for fun?"

"I don't have fun. I'm the—"

"Yes, yes, the big bad Fire Lord, we get it—"

"Alright," Yue interrupts, and they both swivel around to look at her. She's watching them from the side, leaning forward so that her chin is propped on her hand. "I think we all need to calm down."

"I'm calm!"

"No you're not," Suki says. "Your hands are smoking."

Zuko looks down at his clenched fists and swears when he sees that there are, in fact, tiny wisps of smoke curling off his skin. He extinguishes them with a thought. This stupid sun, making him all frazzled and on-edge and acting like a stupid little kid who can't control his bending again...

He glances up. Suki is looking away from him, her jaw clenched, but Yue meets his gaze. She's still holding Suki's fan, and she opens and closes it absently with a flick of her wrist. Her eyes are calm and oddly analytical, looking at him in a way that makes him squirm.

Yue wouldn't get into a petty fight like this. Yue wouldn't piss off her own bodyguard. And, if she did, then she would apologise, because that's what a reasonable leader would do.

So Zuko takes a deep breath and unclenches his hands. "I'm...sorry," he grits out, and Suki tilts her head to glance at him. "I shouldn't have overreacted."

Suki sighs sharply through her nose. "I overreacted a little too," she says. "Besides, I should've expected something like that. You're a huge drama queen."

"No I'm not!"

"Tell that to your copy of Love Amongst the Dragons. Also, I accept your apology...if you accept your punishment."

"My punishment?"

Suki holds out a hand, like she's making a grand imperial degree. "Chief Yue," she intones, "I hereby order you to throw that fan at Zuko, to punish him for his crimes."

"What? No!"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Yue says, her eyes bright as she runs her fingers over the intricate details of the fan. "It would be such a shame if I missed and lost your fan in the canal."

"That's what you're worried about?" Zuko says, indignant. Behind him, Suki dissolves into snorting laughter.

Zuko's first instinct is to flush with embarrassment and yell at her to stop laughing, because he can't see it as anything but mockery. It's how he would've reacted just a year ago, back when he was on his ship. But Yue meets his eyes and grins, tilting her head at Suki as if to invite him in on the joke, and...

Fine, Zuko will admit it: maybe he can have fun, sometimes. 

"Yue!" Sokka shouts, jumping off Appa before the bison's touched the ground. He lands badly, winces, grabs his knee, and promptly stumbles into a pillar.

"Sweet, isn't he?" Suki says to Yue.

"Like a baby buffalo yak," Yue agrees. Zuko rolls his eyes. 

"Sokka!" Katara shouts as Appa lands. She swings herself out of the saddle and stalks towards her brother. "I told you not to—"

"But it's Yue!"

"It was a difference of five seconds. You could've waited!"

Sokka just shakes his head and hobbles up to where Yue stands at the front of the palace hall. Of course, he's just made a fool of himself in front of Yue's council, Zuko, Suki, Zuko's ministers, and Earth King Kuei and the Earth delegation, but he doesn't seem to care. He throws himself at Yue with a blinding grin, and she catches him with only a slight stumble.

"I missed you so bad!" he crows, hugging her so tightly that he lifts her off the ground for a second. "How are you? Are you still sick? Is the council giving you a hard time? Are you—"

Yue cuts him off with a laugh, patting him on the arm as he releases her. "I missed you too, Sokka," she says fondly. "And I'm doing well. I've stolen all your friends."

She tips her head in Zuko and Suki's direction. Sokka follows her gaze, and his grin only gets wider.

"Suki!" he yells, and then Suki's laughing too and opening her arms for a hug. Sokka's babbling something about how it's not fair that she's visited the North Pole before the South, and that she needs to come down sometime soon, and then he's turning to Zuko with that same massive grin.

He opens his arms.

Zuko takes a step back. "Sokka, no—"

"Fire Lord Hotman!" Sokka cries, and squashes him in a hug. Zuko grunts into his shoulder as all the air gets squished out of him. "I'm so glad to see that you haven't turned crazy and evil and the world is still standing. Great job, buddy."

"Sokka, I can't breathe."

"Breathing's for the weak. Sorry, buddy. Reunion hugs are a part of the deal."

As Zuko begrudgingly lets himself be mildly suffocated, the rest of Team Avatar greets Yue with much more decorum (Katara and Aang) and a good deal of grumbling (Toph). Toph's bundled up in what has to be one of Katara's old coats, and she looks like she has words to say about it. She's also, for the first time since Zuko met her, wearing shoes. She has a metal cane in her hand instead, which seems like a hazard for everyone around her.

This hypothesis is promptly proven right when she walks up to Zuko and smacks him right in the shins.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Okay, you're Sparky," Toph says, nodding to herself as if to confirm something.

"Toph!" Katara hisses, coming up to them. "You can't just go around hitting people!"

"I can do whatever I want," Toph says, crossing her arms. "Besides, how am I meant to know who I'm talking to if I don't hear their voice?"

"There are better ways to hear people than hitting them in the shins. Also, hi Zuko. It's good to see you."

"You too," Zuko says, watching as Katara wrangles Toph away from a baffled-looking King Kuei. He catches a snatch of their conversation—

("You can't hit the Earth King's shins!"

"Okay, what part of him can I hit?" 

"None!")

—before Aang bounces into his view.

"Fire Lord Zuko," he says, in a ridiculous formal voice. He bows low, which Zuko returns, and then he breaks into a grin and launches himself at Zuko like a pentapus.

"Zuko, I missed you!" he all but yells, directly in Zuko's good ear. Zuko winces, but accepts the hug with more grace than he did Sokka's; this is Aang, after all. He'd be an idiot to assume he's not going to get borderline tackled. 

"It's good to see you, Aang," he says. "How was Omashu?"

"Oh, it was great. Bumi's great, the city's great, everything's going so well!" Aang's practically bouncing on his toes. He looks even more wound-up than he usually is, with just a touch of manic energy to him.

Zuko squints at him. "Are you...okay?"

Aang waves his hands erratically. "I actually don't know," he says cheerfully. "I've been super hyped ever since we crossed into the Northern Sea. Like, my inner fire? It's going crazy right now."

Ah. He's a firebender too, technically, so he must be going a bit loopy from the polar sun. Zuko glances up at it—it's as bright as a morning in Caldera right now, even though the evening gala is about to start. He pats Aang on the shoulder, commiserating.

"It's just the sun," he says. "You'll get used to it. Come on, let's go listen to Yue's speech."

Much to the chagrin of her councilmen, Yue had staunchly refused to bring a date to the gala. She stands alone on the Chief's dais, dressed in her best clothes, and recites a speech about peace and harmony between the four nations.

It's a good speech. She doesn't stutter once. Somewhere to Zuko's right, he thinks he can hear Sokka sniffling.

The gala starts off surprisingly well. Zuko makes the rounds of all the important people he has to talk to, and then he promptly hides in the corner to avoid all the people who try to strike a conversation with him. He amuses himself by spotting the benders in King Kuei's retinue. They're easy to pick out because they all look nauseous, like they've just found out that something is fundamentally wrong with the world. Zuko supposes that's what entering a city made entirely of ice will do to you when you're used to being in tune with the earth.

Then he sees Toph swinging her cane threateningly around Councilman Yutu, and he goes to stop that particular disaster before it can happen. Toph grins shiftily when he sweeps her away, which makes Zuko suspect that she planned it all along. Especially when she insists that he has to come dance with her and spends the next three songs stepping on his feet. 

"Listen, if I'm gonna be forced into wearing the world's chunkiest boots, I'm gonna use them," she says sweetly as she crushes Zuko's toes. Zuko swears under his breath and tries to focus on not bumping into anyone he can't afford to offend.

Toph relinquishes him to Sokka eventually, who also steps on his toes, though Zuko thinks that's not on purpose. He also, unfortunately, has a penchant for spinning and dipping. Zuko puts a stop to it after Sokka tries dipping him for the third time and nearly brains him on a table instead.

"You're a hazard to society," Zuko hisses at him as they attempt to casually dance away from the site of Zuko's almost-murder.

"And you're stupidly tall. How was I supposed to know your head would drop that far?"

"I've seen you kill people by calculating angles with your boomerang. Angles that you couldn't even see."

"Well, you're not a boomerang, are you?" Sokka snarks, before promptly passing Zuko on to Katara. Katara, at least, is a decent dancer, though she narrows her eyes at him and drills him on whether or not he's been taking care of his lightning wound. And whether or not he's been eating and sleeping. And if he's been a functional human being in general.

"He hasn't," Suki tells Katara conspiratorially as she passes by with a platter of snacks in one hand. Zuko glares at her, and Katara glares at Zuko, and then Minister Shiro is tapping Katara on the shoulder and asking if he could take the Fire Lord's next dance.

Katara looks at Zuko in a silent question. Zuko widens his eyes and shakes his head minutely, begging her not to leave him at the mercy of Shiro and his nasal voice. 

Katara smiles sweetly. "But of course," she says, dropping Zuko's hand and bowing out of the way. "I'm sure the Fire Lord will be happy to dance with you."

Traitor, Zuko mouths furiously at her as she swans away to go and rescue Aang from a horde of admirers. Shiro steps in her place and takes Zuko's hands politely. His palms are sweaty.

"My Lord," he starts, "I'd actually like to discuss the budget adjustments we'll have to make following these peace talks..."

Zuko mentally starts reciting the first fifty firebending katas. Shiro's voice turns into a background drone. Zuko only snaps back to attention when an Earth Kingdom politician with staggeringly thick glasses asks to speak to Shiro for a moment.

Shiro glances back at Zuko, looking conflicted. "I would, but..."

Zuko drops his hands like they're on fire, stepping back as fast as he can. "No, no, go ahead," he says, practically shoving Shiro in the Earth politician's direction. "International relations must be encouraged. Thank you, Minister Shiro, much appreciated."

He's planning to escape from the dance floor, but before he can make it more than five steps, a hand hooks around his elbow and drags him sideways. He whips his head around, already about to snap at whoever it is, until he sees the black-and-white hair.

"Quick, dance with me," Yue hisses, grabbing his hands. Zuko's muscle memory kicks in, and they awkwardly dance their way towards a more popular section of the floor. They carve a path through the crowd, mostly because they're both wearing intricate ceremonial robes that swish out in huge circles as they dance. 

"Sorry," Yue says under her breath, as Zuko focuses on keeping his robes from whacking elderly men off their feet. "I've been introduced to too many sons tonight. And grandsons. And nephews. I just—need an excuse to not talk to anyone for a bit."

"You should try Sokka, then," Zuko suggests. "He doesn't shut up. He can fake a conversation for as long as you need it."

Yue just nods over Zuko's shoulder. Zuko twists, and sees Sokka and Toph executing a dance move that looks more like it belongs on the battlefield. Sokka's swinging Toph around like a meteor hammer. People around them are scattering in fear.

"Ah," says Zuko. "I see."

"Yes, so I needed a back-up distraction," Yue says, nudging him with her foot. "Hence this. Twirl now."

They twirl. There's a soft thwack and an indignant squawk behind Zuko as someone inevitably gets hit by his robes.

"So," he says awkwardly, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on them right now. "Uh. How's...politics?"

"Oh, the usual," Yue says, her eyes flicking sideways. Zuko follows her gaze to where several of her councilmen are standing at the edge of the room, engaged in conversation with King Kuei's advisors. "They've already decided that the council is where the power lies."

"Well, they're stupid and they're wrong."

"Oh, I know," Yue says, a glint in her eye. "It works out for me, actually. They'll spend all their time sucking up to the council, and I'll get to make my own opinions on them. I can—"

Her eyes go to something behind Zuko, and she abruptly closes her mouth. Zuko is just about to turn around when someone comes around his side: Silla, the youngest councilman, pale and harried-looking. He leans in to speak to Yue.

"Your Highness," he says, his eyes darting to where Yue's hand rests on Zuko's shoulder. "It's not proper for a young lady like yourself to dance with...to dance like this. Perhaps you should—"

"Fire Lord Zuko is my friend, and I'd like to dance with him," Yue says brightly, smiling a touch too widely. "And it's Majesty, Councilman Silla. Not Highness."

A muscle jumps in Silla's jaw. "Your Majesty, please, your image—"

"I don't see how sharing a friendly dance with my colleague does any disservices to my image, Councilman Silla," Yue says, still smiling. "Unless you have somewhere to be, Fire Lord Zuko?"

"Not at all, Chief Yue."

"Then it's settled," Yue says. "Councilman Silla, I appreciate the concern, but it's really not necessary. I'm sure you have your own dance partner to get back to. Fire Lord Zuko?"

Silla splutters, but Zuko knows a cue when he sees one. He steps forward strategically, and his robes swish out just the way he'd hoped. Silla is forcibly pushed back by about two komodo rhinos' worth of heavy cloth, and when Zuko peeks over his shoulder, he sees the man stalking off.

Yue snickers. "I'll have to remember that trick," she says, eyeing the hem of her own robes curiously. "Care to join me for the next dance as well?"

"Of course, Chief Yue."

They dance until Zuko has to beg for a time-out, his hands and feet sore. Yue gets whisked off by Katara, but Zuko isn't so lucky. He gets dragged into talking to Earth King Kuei, who stumbles over every other word, and when he finally manages to worm his way out of that painful conversation, he gets waylaid by two of his own ministers. Finally, he manages to escape to the drinks table, where Sokka and Suki seem to be examining the cups. Toph is leaning against Suki's side, lazily swinging her cane in a wide arc to keep the other guests away. She nearly clips Zuko's ankle, and from the look on her face, she fully intended to do it.

"Here, smell this," Suki says the second Zuko gets past Toph, passing him a cup. "Does it smell like that bottle Yue had?"

Zuko sniffs the cup tentatively. "Not really. I think it should be safe to drink."

Suki squints at it, suspicious. "I don't think I should risk it."

"Give it to Sokka first," Toph suggests. 

"Hm. Good thinking." Suki holds the cup out to Sokka, who splutters indignantly.

"What am I, your personal drink tester?"

"So you'd rather the Fire Lord or his personal bodyguard risk getting blackout drunk instead? I see where your priorities lie."

"And you had cactus juice once," Toph adds. "Your stomach's been through worse."

"Oh, come on—"

"Zuko!" Aang shouts, breaking through the argument. Zuko blinks and looks up. Aang's waving a hand at him over the crowd, all the way on the other side of the room. Several eyes turn Zuko's way. "Come dance with me!"

Zuko blanches. He knows what Aang means, and—really? The Dancing Dragon, in a crowd of Northern Water Tribesmen and Earth Kingdom politicians?

"Well, go on," Suki says, nudging him. Beside her, Sokka is sniffing the cup, his brow furrowed. "It's rude to refuse the Avatar."

"I can't," Zuko says. He'd love to firebend—he has all this energy from the sun—but he's not stupid. He won't risk anything further than manipulating the lamps around him. He knows what Agna Qel'a thinks of firebenders. "He means firebending, Suki. I can't firebend in here!" 

"Oh, I don't know," Suki says, jerking her chin to point at something. "Why don't you ask the Chief?"

Zuko follows her gaze. Yue and Katara emerge from the crowd, both of them looking a bit worse for wear. Katara makes a beeline for Sokka, who shoves the cup in her face and says, "Here, drink this."

"What the—I'm not drinking that!"

"Why not?"

"Because you just told me to!"

"I am your beloved older brother—"

"Hey, Chief lady," Toph says loudly, as Katara and Sokka continue to squabble, "can Sparky and Twinkletoes do their stupid little firebending dance in here?"

"Toph!" Zuko hisses. He glances around nervously, but the music seems to have covered up Toph's words. No one's gone pale, and no one's looking at him like they expect him to start declaring his intention to kill the Moon Spirit. He catches Suki's gaze, and she rolls her eyes at him, like she knows exactly why he's paranoid and she thinks he's being stupid about it.

"Well," Yue says thoughtfully, "if I recall correctly, Fire Lord Zuko, Agna Qel'a graced you with a performance by our best waterbending masters when you arrived." She turns to Zuko, one corner of her mouth lifting in a tiny smile. "It's only right that you return the favour."

Zuko stares at her. Beneath his skin, the frantic energy that's been present ever since he came to the North Pole starts to fizz.

Aang appears at his elbow, having apparently ducked and weaved his way through the crowd. "Come on," he says, wrapping a hand around Zuko's arm. He's giggling, clearly giddy on the energy of the polar sun. "I haven't seen you in months, Sifu Hotman. Come dance!"

So, with Yue's blessing, Zuko does.