Chapter 10

The throne room was completely filled with men and woman from every corner of the world, representing dozens of dialects, customs, cultures, concerns, and criticisms. But most were also united in a hope that the future would not have to be like the past.

The embodiment of this hope sat perched light as a bird on his seat, grinning around the hall with genuine pleasure. The banquet had fulfilled its purpose of lightening everyone's spirits admirably. Toph and Katara were also present, grinning and chatting, waving at Aang.

Yet in spite of the jovial mood, Aang leaned over and commented privately, "I'll be glad when this is finally over."

Zuko couldn't agree more vehemently. It was the last day of the week, and indeed the last official gathering before the world's dignitaries would return to their homes. The last chance for treaties and assurances. The final chance for Zuko and Aang to make lasting impressions.

It comforted him that his uncle was there, standing at the right hand of his seat. "You're uneasy, my nephew," the older man judged as they watched the tableau.

"It's nothing," Zuko answered easily, if not entirely truthfully. His eyes scanned the milling crowd, but he did not see who he was looking for. He was beginning to believe the man had not dared come.

Iroh reached to press Zuko's arm, a supportive, calming gesture. "It takes tremendous boldness and audacity to challenge a powerful ruler once. Perhaps he will balk at doing it twice, particularly when the entire congregation is present."

"I don't know, Uncle. He was –" Deranged was not the right word. Gouzhi had seemed too methodical in his reasoning to have been crazy, but he'd been frighteningly persistent, uncompromising, determined. "Driven," he decided. Maybe even hungry. The intensity of his desire had disturbed Zuko.

Casting a look over his shoulder, the Fire Lord sought a familiar flash of blue amidst the backdrop of the room's many tapestries and elegant arches. There he spotted Sokka, who had taken up his customary spot just out of reach at the far left. He stood looking out over the crowd, like a zealous guard watching over them.

Zuko felt determined not to fail him again.

Time passed, the procession mingled. Placating, friendly things were said. Soon it was almost time for the group to dismiss, and Zuko became hopeful that Gouzhi would have thought better of forcing a confrontation.

Yet just as he was beginning to think about gesturing for Aang to make his parting speech, the echoing sound of hinges filled the room; a late arrival. The dark goatee and ember-eyes were unmistakable even from across the room, and in the light of the hall, his silver hair ornament glinted like a pair of fangs.

Even though he had been anticipating the intrusion, Zuko nonetheless experienced a churning in his gut. From the corner, wary Sokka could be seen watching with interest and confusion as this new man boldly approached. Zuko's agitation was unambiguous, however, and reading the tension, the tribesman rested one hand on his sword.

"My Lords," Gouzhi bowed, but this time his mockingly obsequious manner was unquestionable in the smoldering charcoal of his eyes.

Aang was already fidgeting, the attention of the entire hall having redirected to this inexplicable confrontation. Taking the initiative, Zuko stepped forward to met the man. "This is a warning," he intoned. "Think very carefully before you speak."

"Such a hostile response," Gouzhi's words coiled like a black smoke. "All this for one boy?"

Quiet sank into the room like teeth. Those who had witnessed his initial request were captivated, and those who had not were curious. Everyone seemed to sense that something significant was circling, like the funnel of a destructive wind.

"It has been a week," the noble reminded them, sounding terribly reasonable. "I've come to see if you have reconsidered my request."

Every moment he spoke, Zuko became more convinced of how dangerous he was. He accused, "You've asked me for a human being."

"Such dramatics," Gouzhi said. "Troops are transferred all the time. Human capital is exchanged."

Human capital. That he could even use such a term… Zuko answered him, "Even if I would consider such a thing," he said, bracing himself for the reaction of the hall, "Sokka isn't mine to command, nor is he the Avatar's."

Shock. His uncle visibly startled, the revelation of what this man wanted breaking through even his immovable calm. Katara gasped, a sound above the silence of the crowd. And the reaction he least wanted to see…

Sokka was standing as though frozen, unnaturally pale against the dark tapestry. Not upset, not yet. He didn't look anything, except confused. Their eyes met for half a second, and Zuko could practically read his question: 'What does he want with me?'

The young Fire Lord had only suspicions, a sense of unease, and his Uncle's uncomfortable words about ruin. But that was enough.

His statement had actually angered Gouzhi. "Please, let's not have that argument again," he said. "By love or duty, you both bind him. The only possible question is which of you has the greater claim." He turned to bare into Aang with eyes like serrated talons, demanding, "Avatar, do you seek peace?"

"Y-yes," the boy stammered. Zuko would have liked to smack him for his meekness.

"Already your hard won tranquility stands at the edge of a knife," Gouzhi told him. "My arms wait to serve you. But without assurance, no, this can never be. I ask little. A boy committed to my service. Is that so much to ask for an end to war?"

"Stop it," Zuko spoke through gritted teeth. "Quit trying to frighten him into granting your request as through it were some small thing."

"Come, this is no strange request," the man patronized. "If I had requested any other of your guards, you would not hesitate."

"Sokka is not a servant, he is a friend, and I will not barter with him, Gouzhi," Zuko snapped, eyes flashing. "Do you understand me?"

They had moved past all subtlety, all farcical diplomacy. "You are inviting war," his adversary warned. "I command eight thousand fighting men within a week's march of the capital, and I have the connections to raise more. Your father sharpened this country for violence, Lord Zuko, and they are a formidable force."

"I am rebuilding this nation on something other than domination." Zuko answered him. "We'll see who the people follow. But I warn you, I feel they are tired of snakes in the grass."

Gouzhi actually laughed. "Do you think they will answer to you simply because of a title? Fire is the element of power, not weakness. Or haven't you noticed that your citizens hold you in contempt – the pitiful traitor prince playing dress-up with daddy's diadem."

The young Fire Lord refused to rise to the baiting of his temper, refused to be beguiled into defending his throne. He spoke as an unquestioned, unquestionable ruler: "I won't seek confrontation with you, Gouzhi, but you must know that if you try such foolishness, I will crush you. Our allies will stop you."

"Will they?" Gouzhi gestured around the hall. "This motley, half-hearted group of self-seekers? You're as naïve as that one," he spat towards Aang. "And a fool. Bloodshed, death, and all that you have sworn to prevent. And you'd bring about all that for what?"

"For me."

The unexpected voice cut through the heat between the combatants like a trickle of water, and Sokka stepped forward, a puzzled but determined look on his face. "You want me to join your guard? That's all?"

"Sokka –" Zuko began, but Gouzhi addressed the Southerner directly now.

"That's right, my boy," he said, and as he looked on the young man it was as if a light had begun burning in his uncharted black eyes. "It's uncomplicated. A few years of service…for peace."

The Water tribesman must have sensed how potentially dangerous Gouzhi was, because an involuntary shiver worked down his back in a long line. Still, he would not retreat. Zuko could tell Sokka was considering the offer. He was thinking about what would be best for everyone else, considering himself a small sacrifice.

But when he finally opened his mouth and took a step forward, undoubtedly to accept Gouzhi's proposition, Zuko yanked him back bodily by the shoulder.

"No." Zuko looked directly into Sokka's face. "No."

To his surprise, Aang had left his seat and was there beside them both. His expression was harsher than most in the hall had known he was able to muster. Discretely, his smaller hand curled around Sokka's. To the Fire Nation noble, he repeated Zuko's command:

"No."

A low growl; Gouzhi had come alive with a rage that overcame his remaining façade of serenity. He took a step towards them – violence, hatred in his face. He looked crazed, having lost all composure, and Zuko began to second guess what he'd thought about the man not being mad.

A lurch rocked the man forward. "You weren't supposed to refuse me."

Zuko had his Dao swords from their sheaths before Gouzhi took another step. They slid out with a satisfying metallic noise of iron against oiled leather. Then they flashed, twin stars, their concave bladed tips a circle around Gouzhi's neck. He held them steady, face immovable, fierce, regal.

"You may test me if you like, Gouzhi," he said. "But do not blame me when you find yourself caught between the dragon's teeth."

Will you kill me, Lord?" the noble sneered. A trickle of sweat slide down his brow.

"Perhaps I'll just arrest you," Zuko suggested calmly. The guards were moving forward even before he lowered his blades. "Threatening your Lord. Conspiring to incite treason." He tsked. "Terrible. Who knows when you'll ever see a sunrise again."

Then, just like that, it was over. Zuko had been too absorbed in the dangerous confrontation to take in the silence that hung over the delegates, but he heard it now, and saw. All around the dais, the men and women of the world's nations stood gazing upon him. It was startling for him to read the sentiment on their faces.

Respect.

He was astonished. It was as if all the impenetrable fakeness in the hundreds of expressions had finally melted, and beneath them he saw what was real – what had been their fear, their uncertainty, their doubt. But that too had drained before his eyes. They were looking at him with belief.

Aang had turned to his friend even before Gouzhi had been fully escorted from the room, and his arms were around Sokka in an instant. "I'm sorry," Zuko heard him murmur.

Katara had also come forward, squeezing her brother's neck. "As if we'd have let him take you anywhere!" she hissed furiously. Toph had hold of his arm with a bruising pressure, and Zuko wondered for a moment if he'd judged their indifference too harshly.

His uncle's strong hand bore into his shoulder then, his voice so proud in his ear. "That's my boy," he praised, and squeezed. "You have their confidence now. That you can defend what matters. That you can do it with justice and not with force. Good boy."

After a moment, Sokka forced his way out of the tangle created by his friends' combined embrace, and came stand beside Zuko. "If I'd known you could put on that kind of show I wouldn't have worried so much about you being deposed," he teased.

"Yes, well," the fire-bender retorted. It was hard not to grin. "Someone once told me I had a flare for the melodramatic."

"Definitely true," his uncle said.

Sokka laughed, and extended his arm to be clasped, a warrior's shake. Zuko took it and gripped it strongly. The Southerner leaned forward, close enough to whisper.

He said, "I'll stay. At least for now."