The Art of Peace

Chapter 2: Assimilation

Being Chancellor wasn't exactly what Katara had expected. She knew, of course, that there would be many boring meetings in her future. But she hadn't realized how many, and just how dreadfully boring they would be. The robes of her office were stifling in the heat, and most days she wished she could simply jump in the pond and be done with all the politicking.

But Zuko needed her here, listening to Esquire Pei-Yen prattle on about some minute point of Fire Nation law that would aid her in her advisory position to the Fire Lord. Pei-Yen was one of the few politicians who didn't resent her presence in the palace. Often, she would see Fire Sage San shaking his head at her when he didn't think she was looking. At first, General Liu openly contested her appointment, but Zuko was firm.

Katara was to stay, as long as she was competent, and her loyalty to the Fire Nation unquestionable.

They argued for hours about her loyalties. She was Water Tribe after all, how could she be loyal to the Fire Nation? Zuko's only reply was that she was unwavering in her loyalty to him, and wasn't he the penultimate representation of the Fire Nation?

Now the wise ones only grumbled behind his back.

When she wasn't being lectured about manners, or history, or law, Katara went into the city. She left the robes, and the guards, and the marks of her office behind.

She walked between the stalls of fruits and cabbages and trinkets. She talked to merchants, and their wives, and their children. She walked among the people, and healed what she could with her own hands. Other things—the price of rice, the state of the roads, the homelessness, the depression of a land without a purpose—she brought to Zuko, and they stayed up many nights discussing solutions.

Often she would hear the snap of a quickly closed fan as Mai passed her in the halls. Katara wanted to reach out to her, heal what she could, but the older girl would never let her get that close.

So she brought it to Zuko, and they stayed up one night discussing solutions.

---

Her ceremony of citizenship was hot. They had it outside, of course, so that Agni could witness her oaths of fealty. Now, officially, in front of the gods, in front of the people, and the backstabbing council, Zuko was her Lord.

The grumblings remained, as ritual generally means nothing to those who are mortal. Katara carefully checked her food every morning, and trusted no one save Zuko, Mai, and Iroh, now gone to Ba Sing Se.

Slowly, slowly, they grew to love her in the markets. She could explain taxes patiently, and without condescension. She always helped buy food for those who couldn't afford it without their soldier's pay. She wasn't afraid to work with them, and not above them, and so grudgingly, respect was earned.

---

Mai's fans were almost as sharp as Suki's for how deep they cut him. He loved her. But she wanted to be first in his heart, and that would just never be.

"To be a good ruler, Zuko, you must love your country, more purely and truly than any other." Ozai's proverb was true, though he had taken his patriotism to mean the destruction of all else.

More purely and more truly, he devoted himself to the rebuilding of his nation. Every time he would disappear into his office, she would flutter her fan, hiding her mouth.

When he would drag himself, drained, and tired, and needing some companionship to her bed some nights, he could almost hear the soft rustle of painted paper as she pulled back the sheets.

Zuko wielded all of the power of the crown.

Mai wielded her fans.

---

The duels became legendary.

As the months grew on, it wasn't unusual for Katara's maidservant to wake her in the early hours of the morning, exercise robes all ready laid out.

The duels after cabinet meetings were almost always sure to draw a crowd.

There were times he beat her fair and square. There were times that it came to a draw. There were times she would have him lying in the dirt. But she let him win, always. He had to save face. And while Zuko felt ashamed of their plan, he couldn't let his people, and his enemies, see him as weak. He was the Fire Lord, and there were certain traditions of near godhood that even he couldn't break.

But Katara didn't mind, not as long as the fight was good. And if she had to miss a step, or raise a wave too slowly to help save the nation's honor, she understood.

It wasn't about them; it never had been.

Author's Note:

Still disclaimed.

Please review, because I love it 

Carolyn