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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19165 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Thirteen –

“What’s wrong?” Sokka asked softly of Toph.

“Nothing,” she snapped quietly.

Brooding, he scratched his chin and kept studying her. Normally, she looked angry, but now she looked worried. He shifted on the bed and exhaled as the early morning light spilled through the drapes.

“I can tell something’s wrong,” he continued badgering her in a low whisper so as not to wake the other two occupants of the bed up. Since last nights events, decorum had been tossed out the window and he, Aang, Toph, and Meng had collapsed onto the nearest bed they could find for some much needed sleep.

“Katara will be okay,” Sokka said, more to reassure himself than anyone else.

At first he hadn’t known how to take the cryptic message that had been contained in the red wrapping paper. When he had shown it to Aang, he had wadded it up and had asked him if he’d shown it to anyone else.

He was a simple warrior. He had no need for subterfuge and palace intrigue. Personally, last night’s events reminded him of those girlie stories Gran Gran always used to tell to Katara.

Toph gave a shuddering huff and turned on her side, facing him. “I’m not worried about Katara and Zuko. I’m worried about my father.”

“Why?” Aang’s groggy voice asked from the other side of the bed.

Her face was in shadow and he couldn’t see very well, but the sound of her voice was unmistakable.

She sniffed as though she had a cold. “Before Mongi died, he said that I had signed my father’s death warrant.”

Meng stirred next to Toph, groaning as her body protested waking up. Aang kissed her forehead and rubbed her bare arm in comfort. Meng settled down and fell into a deeper sleep.

“My dad hasn’t been right for some time,” Toph continued, sitting up and shaking off Sokka’s hand that he had rested on her shoulder. “All the bodyguards and attendants my dad sent with me are gone. I’ve always heard people whispering around me. I would filter them out…ignore them. Now I wish I hadn’t.”

“What do you mean?” asked Aang.

Wiping her eyes, Toph shivered. “I think he might be involved in something he can’t get out of.”

“I don’t understand,” Sokka said, sitting up and reaching for Toph. Surprisingly, she didn’t smack his hand away as it settled on her shoulder.

“I didn’t hear the entire conversation,” Toph continued thinking out loud. “There was something about vested interests….money…me…and some guy named Qiang.”

Forgetting his role as Meng’s pillow, Aang sat up abruptly. “Are you sure they mentioned Qiang?”

“Who’s Qiang?” Sokka flexed his hand on Toph’s shoulder.

“Yes.” As if just now realizing Sokka was touching her, Toph smacked his hand away. “They said he needed more money for his campaign. My dad is always giving money to politicians.”

“Not a political campaign!” Aang jumped out of bed and pulled his orange tunic over his head. “A military campaign. He’s the guy who is trying to overthrow Zuko.”

Following Aang’s lead, Sokka got out of bed and started getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” Toph asked.

“We’re going to see your father,” Aang announced softly.

--

“The Fire Nation mourns with you, Iroh,” the Fire Sage consoled the grieving uncle. “Any and all members of the Purist Cult have been rounded up and summarily executed per your order.”

Iroh kept his head bowed and grunted his response. Zuko was an excellent strategist, identifying potential threats before they arose. The Purists were a cult who believed that the nations should not mix. Once news of the Fire Lord marrying a Waterbender reached them, they would never stop until the “unclean” were dead. Why not blame them for the “assassination” of the Fire Nation’s beloved ruler and his new bride? They were the perfect patsy.

Zuko had used the ruse to strike at the ones who were sure to become his enemies. In a way it gave him hope for the future, a hope that was tainted with fear. In one way, his nephew reminded him of himself. In another, Zuko reminded Iroh of Ozai. Before his departure, Zuko had ordered this action without batting an eyelash. His nephew had inherited a certain ruthlessness from generations of warped philosophies and teachings.

Luckily, he had managed to do damage control and had given Zuko a more rounded temperament.

The Fire Sage cleared his throat. “This is a serious matter, Iroh.” The holy man cleared his throat again. “And I do apologize for the indelicacy of the subject. But the Fire Nation needs you to assume your rightful role. The past and present have robbed you of your destiny. We need you to lead us.”

“And what of my lineage?” Iroh questioned the Sage with a shrewd glare. “It ended with Lu Ten.”

“If you were to marry…or take your concubine…” the man suggested.

Iroh stiffened at the suggestion. He would never drag Jia Li and Hui into this mess. “I am old,” he stated. “I was foolish to take a concubine so late in life. When I die I will remand her into your custody. I expect her to leave a comfortable life.”

“You are far from dead, Iroh. If she were to have your child…” the Fire Sage continued.

Slamming his fist onto the table, Iroh shook his head. “I will never love anyone as I loved Lu Ten’s mother! She gave me the most precious gifts imaginable – her love and my son. I squandered both. The answer is no,” he affirmed.

The Sage sat there in stunned silence.

“I will, however, assume the role of Fire Lord until a suitable replacement can be found.” Tucking his hands into his sleeves, Iroh leaned back. “I will send a letter to my ‘cousin,’ Qiang.”

The other man hissed in rejection of the bastard son of a bastard son. “The people –”

“Will have to make due with the decisions I make as Fire Lord,” Iroh affirmed with finality.

--

TBC

A/N – Thanks to Moncapitan and Spleef for the spit and polish! Sorry that chapter is so short, but work is a bear and I am no bear trainer. Thanks a million!
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The Price of Peace