Focused Fire (ATLA)

The main essence of the first international summit in more than a century was done with faster than most had expected. King Kuei’s loyalists in the eastern Earth Continent were basically outshouted by their fellows from the south who overwhelmingly chose to band with Bumi’s Confederation of Southern Earth Kingdoms or those in the west and north who were considering whether to join Omashu or form their own factions.

Those were matters that those involved agreed to discuss once they returned home. Zuko was rather glad for that, he couldn’t take any more of the constant verbal lashing hurled at Ambassador Siang and his unfortunate colleagues. After the first showing, and with some egging from Bumi, the other Earth Kingdom states seemed to only need the simplest excuses to begin a tirade that blamed Kuei and the Dai Li for whatever the current topic was.

And apparently, depressingly, more than half of those accusations had more than a grain of truth in them. 

It was because of their Joo Dee project that barons and counts, who had bade their people flee before the Fire Nation onslaught, were outraged at the absence and violation of their people. It was thanks to the Dai Li’s insular focus that the states far south of the Si Wong Desert were forced to fend for themselves and eventually look to Omashu for leadership as almost all armies under the crown were concentrated around Ba Sing Se. And with the Dai Li dabbling into military affairs to ensure their own interests, many generals and commanders found themselves hamstrung by severely defensive orders.

And then there was what some considered the most irreverent violation. The Dai Li captured, tortured and were about to subvert members of the venerated Kyoshi Warriors into Joo Dees. Suki’s personal account of her ordeal before the gathering, clad in the traditional face paint and armor of her order, had riled up quite a few of the southern lords in particular.

“For them to stoop so low!” one ambassador exclaimed with disgust, her hands actually trembling.

“If they hadn’t been stopped, who knows what the Dai Li might do,” one lord sneered. “They hold nothing sacred, I bet they’d have the impudence to try subverting the Avatar as well!”

“And all while our ‘rightful king’ remains oblivious!” another lord added, glaring particularly at Siang.

It was quite the surreal experience for Zuko. He had expected to endure a tirade from the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes over the atrocities committed by his father, grandfather, and great grandfather. Yet instead he was now staring back and forth like a spectator by a cuju court as the Earth Kingdom states took shots at their ousted ruler. On the opposite end of the conference circle, Xing and Azula had the courtesy to hide their amusement, while Aang in between them looked utterly worn.

“But it was the Fire Nation that slew your men!” the poor ambassador appealed to the duke of Chenbao. “The Scorpion himself was responsible for your brother’s crippling!”

“Wenli’s fate was of his own idiotic making!” the duke roared right back. “The Fire Nation were enemies, and it is a poor shepherd that blames the rabid wolfbats for mauling his unguarded flock.” Every member of the Fire Nation wisely ignored the insult and let the man continue his tirade. Zuko found his uncle beside him almost spilling his tea.

“But what of my supposed king? Where were the rebuilt grand armies that were supposed to push the Fire Nation marauders back? Where was Ba Sing Se’s royal armada to help contest the sea and secure an evacuation route?” The duke slammed his hands on the table as he seemed ready to froth at the mouth.

Zuko bit back a sigh. 

Rabid indeed.

“And to add to insult? To make things all the worse for us? Our ‘yoke of oppression’ was the best years for Chenbao. My realm was prospering because of trade roads the Earth Kingdom did not think of building, paying an annual tribute that was less than half of that demanded by Ba Sing Se, and my subjects were not forcefully conscripted to be turned into fodder!”

“Now, now. Save your vitriol for when you really need to use it. Besides, the young king’s not here right now, and it’s only polite and honorable to yell your issues right to his face.”

As it usually happened during such outbursts, it was King Bumi that intervened and calmed things down, and redirected everyone back to the original topic. Zuko understood that it was a simple ploy to contrast the Mad King against Kuei and make Bumi look far more reasonable and approachable. And it was working, too. Zuko had to admit a growing liking for the ancient earthbender and his casual air.

In the end, the scourging of King Kuei ensured the fracture of the Earth Kingdom.

Ba Sing Se would be considered an independent, sovereign state until the next internal meeting among the Earth Continent’s states. And thanks to exploiting the bubbling resentment against the ousted Earth King, Xing managed to have his offer of an oversight council in Ba Sing Se be heartily rejected by the lords and ambassadors. The Scorpion Prince and Phoenix Princess had dark reputations, it was true, but they also had a reputation for competence. With careful wording from Azula in particular, the rebellious states spitefully declared that they rather place their trust in the young couple with the jewel of the continent, rather than give Kuei a chance at redeeming himself.

Omashu would be the leader to the newly ratified Confederation of Southern Kingdoms, basically a forming new nation that no longer recognized the authority of the Earth King. King Bumi and his compatriots promised to spend time after the summit to discuss trade and other matters with the Water Tribes and Fire Nation.

Meanwhile, a host of states also declared their independence from the old monarchy, particular those in the north and west of the continent. The former Fire Nation territories would be divided up based on pre-conquest state borders. Ownership of the restored states would be granted to the original noble houses that fled the Fire Nation’s expansion and until now lived in exile, or handed over to new families based on the agreement of the other northern and western states. 

King Bumi had volunteered to omit his coalition’s involvement in what he deemed as a matter beyond the business of the Southern Kingdoms. 

Ambassador Siang and his outnumbered followers were shouted down into silence.

The borders were quickly laid out for the divided Earth Continent, and reparations was redistributed based on the Fire Nation’s influence on the affected regions. Therefore, a bulk of the payment would go to the as-of-yet independent kingdoms of the north and west. The Southern Kingdoms would see the most of the rest, while King Kuei’s loyalists would find a relatively pitiable sum owed to them, due to how unaffected their realms were throughout the century of war. 

Along with paying out the Water Tribes, the Fire Nation would nearly empty out its treasury. It would also be forced to shrink its military both as a gesture of penance as well as to fit into a new, tighter budget.

Thankfully, some discounts could be found to alleviate the high price of peace. The Water Tribes and a few independent coastal states would accept some of their payment in ships, ships that would soon not have a place in the Fire Nation’s soon-to-be downsized navy. In a similar manner, military equipment could replace gold for the realms that needed to quickly rebuild their strength. Thanks to its popularity in the former colonies, many kingdoms were happy to waive off a bit more of the reparations in exchange for importing Fire Nation experts in growing kai-lan.

Zuko was surprised to hear that the ubiquitous vegetable had trouble growing on most of the continent, though from the way they talked about it, it seemed more like it was due to a difference in farming practices. It was also surprising how well liked the leafy green was. Zuko himself was indifferent to it, but King Bumi had to be reasoned with when he was about to sign off Omashu’s entire portion of reparation just to secure twenty of the best kai-lan farmers for his city.

There were other, less material conditions that were imposed on the Fire Nation, treaties that required assurances not only from the Fire Nation, but from every faction present. Aang brought up a proposal to set up an international tribunal to bring to justice to any who had inflicted deplorable acts during the war. Xing somehow lost his mind and volunteered himself to be the first to be put on trial.

King Bumi shot that down almost instantly. “Boy, I’ve been burying armies alive, dropping mountains on them, and leaving smears across whole grasslands. If you’re going to be clapped in chains, then so will I. And just about every bender that took part in the war. Siddown.”

Heads were nodding all around the table with varying levels of agreement, and the heir to the Fire Nation realized that it was what Xing had planned for. The cruelties he inflicted with the 11th were novel, but they were far from unacceptable wartime behavior. From night raids to terror tactics, Xing was simply very successful in what he did with the 11th. To call his actions a crime would easily mean turning practically every commander on every side a criminal.

 

So instead, the tribunal would target only those who let the necessary cruelties of war spill over onto the innocent. Several names were immediately brought up, from both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdoms. The late High General Bujing’s son was one of them, for having used a refugee caravan as bait years ago to distract and destroy an Earth Kingdom army. Zuko remembered that even back then, it was a reluctantly celebrated tactic, and only because of the staggering victory it netted the then colonel. Not many Fire Nation commanders were offered, simply because most of those that might qualify were already dead.

From what Zuko understood from his uncle before the meeting, the purpose of the tribunal was less of an inquisition to fish out the guilty, and more of a chance for the nations to exchange troublesome deadwood in exchange for good will. Quite unexpectedly, the dark idea was the brainchild of the Mad King.

The names of a few commanders from the northern states were meekly offered up for ravaging undefended settlements, while King Bumi looked to his people and dragged out a short string of names. Interestingly, both factions had commanders that preyed on their own people.

Even Chief Arnook provided some names of a group of warriors they’ve already been keeping behind bars for raiding Fire Nation fishing communities. 

Unsurprisingly, Ambassador Siang and his people kept silent. That fact made the Mad King cackle, which gave Zuko the sneaking suspicion that they were playing into his ancient and loony hands.

“It’s a good start,” the Avatar said with a grateful nod and a grim smile. “Thank you for taking this big step towards returning peace and justice to our damaged world. I will make sure that the trials will be fair. With that, the purpose of this summit is concluded. The war is officially over.” Zuko didn’t miss the glance Aang gave to Xing before continuing. “Now, we’ll have to work on ensuring that the peace we secured will be a long one.”

With that heavy sentence, the meeting was over the day. There’d be a few more days worth of international meetings, but instead of feeling overwhelmed or bored, the prince found himself looking forward to it. Looking at it from a different perspective now, all this statesmanship and diplomacy and administrating was far more interesting than had been presented by the court tutors. 

It also showed just how useless martial firebending was in exerting influence, which made his father’s focus on the art - to the detriment of other lessons - almost a complete waste. Nobody knew nor cared that Azula had mastered how many firebending forms, they only cared that she had been an adept minister. Uncle Iroh’s prowess was also ignored in favor of his calming way with words and leadership experience. Neither of the Water Tribe chiefs were benders, yet they were still highly respected.

Only Xing and King Bumi were outliers in that their reputation for fire and earthbending respectively was also acknowledged. But Xing was Xing, and the Mad King was an almost-insane centenarian who’d probably killed way more people over his lifetime than everyone in the summit combined. 

Zuko was about to shake his head at the thought, but then he caught sight of a frowning Mai in the hallway. Not her usual, hate-the-world frown either. This was…different.

Which made the prince quite worried.

“Zuko,” she beckoned, and he almost broke into a run to reach her. Up close, Mai looked mildly concerned, but it was clearly nagging her enough that she was actually standing near a crowd of strangers pouring out from the meeting hall.  “Come…we have to talk.”

“Uh…okay. About what?”

She fixed him with a glare before turning to lead him away. “About us.”

Zuko gulped. That didn’t sound good. But he kept silent until they were in her room. Mai regarded him with the same worried frown for a few more seconds before she sat on the bed and huffed aloud.

“Your sister…had a talk with me last night.”

Shit. That definitely didn’t sound good.

“She made some things clear…and…” Zuko tried not to stare too much at how Mai licked her lips. “And helped me make some things of my own clear.”

“And…?” The word came out in a strangled, dread-filled whisper.

He then felt like she was looking through him for a moment, rather than at him. “I…if we were…you know. A thing. Would I be forced to smile a lot?”

The prince blinked. “I… Uh. Do you want to?”

“It’s expected, right?”

“I’m not sure,” Zuko admitted, giving in to the sudden urge to scratch the back of his head. “I mean…my father’s not the smiling type. And Azula’s more snarky smirks than smiles…”

“Good point. But the point being…there’s…expectations on you. On me too, if we…get together.”

“I guess?” He hadn’t really thought much about it, to be honest. And then he felt the sting of knowing that his sister had preempted that.

Mai nodded slowly. “Well, Azula suggested that I make clear my expectations of…a…relationship…with you.” Her eyes glinted differently somehow as she cocked her head to one side. “Assuming you want a relationship…?”

He blurted the answer out even before his mind fully processed her question. “Yes! I mean, of course! Sure!”

The edges of her lips tugged up into a smile that made Zuko smile dumbly along. She patted the space on the bed beside her, and his legs moved on their own to sit him there. “Good. Well, I guess… Spirits, I hate talking so much… I guess I should let you know a few things first before we get serious.” Mai took in a deep breath, and again Zuko tried not to let his eyes wander.

Her dress did move prettily though when she exhaled.

“So, I rather not be forced to play a cheery, vapid girlfriend…”

Girlfriend? Did she say girlfriend? Zuko almost smacked himself at the back of his head for how juvenile his thoughts suddenly became. If this was the sort of talk that Xing and Azula went through, he’d be able to pull it off as well. He just had to be mature about things, and take things seriously.

“Zuko?”

“Yes! I’m serious!”

Mai rolled her eyes at his embarrassment. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

“Um…not exactly?” he admitted.

Contrary to expectations, the answer made her smile. Really smile.

“Dum-dum,” Mai lightly admonished, wielding Azula’s nickname for him. Zuko didn’t mind it when Mai used it. Not when she placed her hand on his, and leant in.

Understandably, they postponed the very serious topic about relationships to a bit later. As he learned in the meetings, it was better to enter a dialogue with a clear head instead of being distracted. Like, say, with kissing a girl that he really, really liked.