Work Text:
Zuko had his eyes trained on the half opened scroll sitting in front of him on the table. This meeting had been droning on for close to an hour, and while that wasn’t necessarily abnormal when it came to meetings with his advisors discussing international affairs as they were currently, this one had been particularly ear grating. Zuko was many things, an ex-traitor, a criminal, a bafflingly petty sixteen year old even. But one thing you couldn’t call him was eternally patient. Aang could attest to this, training was always a blast—figuratively and literally— back when they’d first forced/welcomed Zuko into the Gaang to train the Avatar in fire bending.
Despite all of this, he thinks he’s been rather well behaved this whole time. I mean, listening to his advisors go back and forth over things that he thought they’d covered already, only to discover they had in fact not completed those topics, simply pushing it aside in favor of something else that eventually got shoved aside similarly and so on until they redragged it from the depths of where ever endlessly boring, but necessary, topics on continued correspondence with the Northern Water Tribe on setting up viable trading route. Right, that’s what they were on now, trading routes.
After Fire Lord Ozai had been demoted—manually dragged from his throne and thrown in a cell to rot— and Zuko had taken his place, one of the first orders of business he had set upon was firing nearly all of his staff, guards, and advisors that still held strong to the propaganda spread by the previous Fire Lord. And, of course, his die hard fans.
It hadn’t been too much, really, just over half his advisors, a solid quarter of his guards, and maybe thirteen give or take of his kitchen, cleaning, gardening, and so on staff. There hadn’t been much to get rid of in the first place, if he was being honest. Many had fled, choosing to either leave under the guise of night and flee from the palace, going Agni knows where, or fired by his late father for any slew of things they might’ve done wrong. He’d yet to ask after the specific details, and he wasn’t quite sure he wished to.
The second order of business—after rehiring and finding new candidates to replace the gaps in his staff— was weeding out the men responsible for the destruction of the many great nations and civilizations that they’d destroyed and, in some unfortunate cases, eradicated. It hadn’t been too difficult, many had died during battle, before the white flags had been flown and the peace treaties written up and signed, though enough still lived for him to, personally, mind you, locate their residences within his nation and arrest them under the circumstances of treason and war crimes—which many had gained on their own accords, though there might’ve been a little influence from the Fire Lord. But no one had to know that.
They had been tried for their crimes, as despite the vile feeling that coated Zuko’s throat whenever he so much as glanced at them, he vowed to be a just leader, one that his people could be proud to have running their empire, not terrified as they had been for so many generations. There had been a few admirals and commanders of their respective fleets and armies that had been sentenced to death, which was carried out swiftly and uninformed of to the kingdoms people, to avoid mass hysteria. Zuko was not unaware of the fact that many of his people believed him unfit and were unhappy that he had taken the throne. There were enough rebel groups that had popped up in his radar recently that he dared not risk angering them further than they already seemed to be to delay the inevitable conflict that would arise one day till another time, a time when he’d hopefully be more situated and—Agni grant— more liked.
He had been rather successful so far, all considering. All those deemed guilty, as far as he was aware of, were now either behind bars or dead, leaving his nation in relative peace as he worked towards appealing all of the absurd rules, regulations, and laws that had been set in place by the Fire Lords of the past. Though it was slow going, it was becoming rewarding. Case in point; as he walked through the halls of the palace at his leisure, his palace, it was still astonishing to him that it truly belonged to him now. Of course, it’d always been in some way his, family wise, but it had never truly belonged to him in any legal sense.
As he walked through the palace halls, observing all of the fine decor and the stray ghastly paintings he’d have to throw out—or better, burn— the rogue cleaning persons no longer flinched when he’d speak to them, or stiffen and avoid eye contact at all costs when they noticed his presence. It was gratifying to know that all this work was beginning to pay off in noticeable ways.
His fingers drummed on his knee rhythmically, eyes scanning over the advisors currently at each other’s throats as they barely contained their shouting across the table. Finally, growing annoyed at the persistent aggression and his growing headache, he stood, the padded feet of his chair not making much more than a swishing sound as it was pushed back by his calves across the floor though the affect of the loud screeching of a chair would have on a loud room was still granted to him, the room going silent as they immediately noticed the Fire Lord stood at the end of the table, a fiery look of annoyance marring his face. He’d yet to realize he had such readable expressions, he was often baffled when his advisors and staff would comment on the way certain subjects had affected his mood, not sure how they’d known without him so much as breathing a different way.
“As much as I’ve been enjoying this… spirited conversation,” he emphasized spirited, neglecting to bring up the fact that they had not, in fact, been conversing they had been arguing, “I do think it’s time we bring a little bit of order to this meeting and get back on the main topic of business, yes?” He looked around, waiting for the collective nodding before he plowed on. “Great, now, would anyone like to inform me of what it is this meeting was originally scheduled for?” He spoke to them like toddlers, not missing the way some of them cast their eyes away ashamedly, a dusting of light pink on their cheeks, and others narrowed their eyes at him.
Zuko smiled when one of them stood, Takiko, currently his only female advisor—which he’s not completely sure why, but that was something for another time. She glanced up from her hands and looked over to Zuko, doing her best to push an awkward smile on her face. “Of course, your Highness. Originally, this meeting was put into effect to discuss the current relationship between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe. Currently, we are on the topic of trade routes.” At this, she sat back down, eyes not leaving Zuko, but instead focusing more on the long, ornamental sleeves of his traditional robes rather than his face as she had when speaking to him.
He nodded, gracing her a small smile before he sat back down as well, motioned forward with his hand for anyone to begin speaking. “Yes, thank you, Takiko.”
One of the men cleared his throat, nodding to Zuko before he began speaking, eyes lingering on his scrolls spread out in front of him before he addressed the rest of the table. Zuko listened quietly, hummed along in agreement as he spoke, positive that any noise he made had the advisors closest to him flickering their eyes at him quickly in acknowledgment before wandering back to their own scrolls or to the next speaker.
Suddenly, someone cut into the conversation, putting his hand up to condescendingly pause the current speaker, who just so happened to be Takiko. Zuko drew his eyes from her, nodding to him when he seemed to be looking at him directly, awaiting permission to interrupt—like he hadn’t already. Regardless, Zuko nodded, giving him to go ahead to speak. He didn’t miss the way some of the other men rolled their eyes, fingers twitching towards their feather pens that sat in black stained ink wells at the top of each of their papers.
“Excuse me for the interruption, Fire Lord, but it does seem we’ve run dry on tea.” He said, eliciting a few surprised chuckles from various places around the table. He’s interrupted a speaker during an important discussion such as this to request the Fire Lord call in his waitstaff to bring more tea?
Zuko looked around, holding his peace though he was nearing his ending point. “It seems we are.” He agreed, looking back towards his advisor.
The man seemed slightly surprised as well, not quite sure what to say at Zuko’s response, or lack thereof if the stumbling of his words was anything to go by. Another man spoke, coming to his rescue. “Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I do agree, I would say having some more tea poured would be a great idea. I’m sure all this talking is bound to sore some of our throats.” Zuko raised his brow as he saw the mans gaze wander over to Takiko, who seemed to be holding back some biting comment, though she looked reserved enough Zuko didn’t comment on it.
“Takiko,” another spoke up, glancing at said woman, who seemed impossibly more exasperated, “why don’t you go grab the pot from over there and pour us more tea, hm?” His tone was rather condescending, which rubbed Zuko the wrong way. But, nonetheless, Takiko stood, just sighing in resignation as she prepared herself to go fetch the pot from a small table off the the side of the large room that contained the tea they were speaking of—which was likely to have gone cold by now, now that he thinks about it.
Zuko stands as well, walking swiftly in over to the table himself, waving away Takiko as she hurriedly tries to follow after him, saying things he honestly didn’t catch. “No, no, return to your seat and continue your point. You were in the middle of speaking, I certainly had nothing to add, so I will prepare us some more tea.” He said, paying little mind to the concerned look Takiko gave him, not yet returning to her place at the table.
“M-my lord,” the advisor, the one who had first made the comment about the lack of tea, sputtered, “I’m sure Takiko can do it, is it not below you to collect tea?”
“Nonsense, it’s fine. Uncle Iroh always pours his own tea and last I checked he was ranked above all of you.” Zuko responded breezily, hands wrapping around the sides of the pot. And sure enough, the pot and the tea inside had gone cold.
The advisors seemed to quiet at this, a collective thought running through their minds as they remembered who it was their Fire Lord was speaking of. The Dragon of the West, yes, he was correct in that. Though, pouring his own tea? Why, it was almost unheard of in the most recent years of the reigning Fire Lords, if there wasn’t an attendant on standby at all times, prepared to fulfill their any needs, something—or someone— would’ve been set ablaze within moments.
“Well, ah- I’m sure she has much more experience with such… trivial things.” The man tries again, seemingly putting together the words as he spoke them, paying them little thought.
Zuko raised an eyebrow, though unbeknownst to the rest of the room, he allowed his hands to warm a considerable amount, throwing a look over his shoulder as he did so. “Is that so? Well, I’m sure with her impressive skills I could suffice just fine. Besides, I’ve worked plenty with my uncle at his tea shop during my banishment. I know my way around a pot of tea.” The advisors seemed to quiet at that, Takiko already back in her seat covered her mouth with a hand, stifling a soft giggle.
Well, it turns out, while he did a splendid job at warming up the pot and the water within… he wasn’t quite as good as he’d claimed he was at making the tea himself. Though, his advisors all kept their mouths shut after the display of blatant annoyance he’d shown when pouring their tea, the warm attitude leeching off of him in waves whenever he got too close seeming to unnerve them.
He wasn’t at all put off when he realized there had been no more than a few sips taken off the tops of the cups when he’d exited the meeting hall last when they’d called the discussions to a close.