Chapter Text
“He's staring at you again," Nook said with an irritated look over Tarrlok's shoulder.
"When isn't he?" said Tarrlok. He pulled a folder from the drawer with a small noise of triumph.
"It's your braids," said Arnaq, leaning on the filing cabinet next to him. "He's regretting shaving off his own hair 'cause he wanted pigtails."
They laughed together, heads ducking as they tried to muffle it.
"Oh, no, he's not listening to a word Amak is saying," Arnaq said, her voice still bubbling with laughter.
Tarrlok turned to look and, sure enough, Councilman Tenzin was staring at him. He smiled and nodded at the airbender, who seemed entirely too thrilled at the gesture before realising that he was being asked a question.
"I should probably go save Amak," Tarrlok sighed, handing the folder to Nook.
"Offer him a braid," Arnaq hissed at his back. Tarrlok ignored her.
"--terribly sorry. Jinora is keeping us up all night, I’m asleep on my feet, you understand," Councilman Tenzin was babbling, a nervous flush in his cheeks.
Amak frowned. "Jinora?"
"His newborn daughter," Tarrlok interjected. "Honestly, sir, sometimes I think you’re not following the news at all." Or reading the social briefings I leave on your desk.
Amak scoffed, dismissing it with a scornful, "The popular press." Tarrlok's expression must have made it through, because he came to his senses and went on hurriedly, "Er, that is, uh, c-c-c-congratulations on your daughter, C-Councilman Tenzin. A joyous occasion."
"Thank you, Councilman Amak," said Tenzin, his voice tight; if Amak had blown this deal, Tarrlok was putting salt in his already cheap tea for a week. "Now, what was it you wished to talk to me about?”
Amak looked like he wanted to cry for a moment.
Tarrlok could already hear the stuttering mess he would manage, so he stepped in, turning a bright smile on Tenzin.
"We were wondering if you could persuade your honoured mother to join us for the Winter Solstice,” he said. “It would do the Watertribe community here in the city good to see her.”
Tenzin stared at him, startled, mouth opening a few times before he managed, "I, uh... I’m not sure it’s something you should count on. She’s very busy with young Korra.”
This game Tarrlok knew how to play, and he nodded, eager and attentive. “And how is our prodigy Avatar?”
“Good!” Tenzin said, all awkward pride, and walking right into it. “She’s-- she’s doing very well! She turned seven last month. Well underway in her education; she’s very vivacious! Impulsive. But, well, seven!”
"Aw," said Amak, pious man that he was.
Tarrlok beamed. "Wonderful!" he said and went in for the kill. "Then there’s no reason Master Katara can’t take a brief break to visit.”
For a moment, Councilman Tenzin went through a range of expressions, his pale cheeks flushing further. Finally he stammered, "I can certainly ask." He smiled; it wasn't very convincing.
"Thank you, Tenzin!" Amak said. "I owe you!"
"Oh, now, be careful what you offer!" Tenzin said with the sort of desperate forced cheer peculiar to people who spend too long behind a desk.
Amak laughed stiltedly. Tenzin laughed even more so. Tarrlok joined in to be polite.
Over Amak's shoulder, Tarrlok could see Nook giving him a look half perplexed, half amused.
Tarrlok stopped pretending to laugh and said, a touch too loudly, “Should I walk Councilman Tenzin out and take him over the plan, sir?”
Both Councilmen looked deeply relieved. Tarrlok felt a moment's contempt that they were so free with their emotions, so open with their expressions.
“Oh, yes, please do, Tarrlok,” said Amak.
Tarrlok smiled at Tenzin, gesturing to the door and his own desk just outside it. "If you'd follow me, please, sir." He led the way outside--trying to ignore the way Tenzin's cape swished against his ankles as the airbender walked far too close--and rooted through his desk drawer.
Tenzin was staring again. Tarrlok pretended not to notice. On some level, he supposed it was flattering, but he'd appreciate it more if the Councilman didn't do it when he was trying to work.
"The itinerary," he said, shoving the paper at Tenzin who finally seemed to realise that he was, in fact, present in a professional capacity.
"Right!" he sputtered, snatching the itinerary. "Yes!"
"The bits underlined in red," Tarrlok said, leaning close to point, and maybe that was a little uncalled for, but the Councilman was turning a fetching shade of pink, "that's where we'd like to see Master Katara, but it is of course optional."
Tenzin was nodding, staring very hard at the paper and clearly not reading it.
"However," Tarrlok continued, "if she only feels like she can handle one event, we would like to see her at the ritual for the Ascension of Yue. It’s both the most important part, and, well," he laughed briefly, "she was present at the real event.
“I know,” Tenzin stammered. “I am half Watertribe myself.”
Tarrlok glanced at the pale, gangly, linen-clad airbender for a moment and said, "So you are, sir. Pardon my forgetfulness." He turned back to the paper before anything judgemental came out and continued, "I’ve tried to confine her suggested appearances to the evenings-- you’ll excuse my assumption, I hope, that as a waterbender, she feels stronger in the evening?”
“She-- yes, she does,” Tenzin said.
"Wonderful," said Tarrlok and drew away from him again. He was amused to notice that Tenzin leaned towards him before catching himself. “I hope you can convince her, sir; she’s a hero to so many of us.”
"I will-- yes, she-- I will certainly try!" Tenzin said, and this time he seemed to mean it.
Tarrlok bowed, short and precise. "Good day, then, Councilman."
"And you, uh," Tenzin floundered before, very hesitantly, venturing, "Tarrlok...?"
Well, he got my name right, Tarrlok thought a little uncharitably. "Thank you, sir," he said and turned on his heel, slipping back into the office before Tenzin offered to show his collection of bison-wool capes or whatever airbenders collected for fun.
"Well?" said Amak, hands wringing.
"He'll try, sir," Tarrlok assured him.
“Did he ask for your braids?” Arnaq answered, her voice carefully innocent.
“No, but he definitely wants them,” Tarrlok said.
“What?” said Amak, looking somehow more frazzled in his confusion. “Your braids? But… those are cultural, he can’t--”
“It’s a joke, sir,” Tarrlok assured him.
"He shouldn't be joking about our culture," Amak continued, looking more and more concerned as if he'd inadvertently invited a bigot into the celebrations.
"No, sir, not-- Arnaq is joking," Tarrlok assured him.
Arnaq emphatically mouthed 'asshole' at him, but Amak deflated with relief.
"Oh, well," said the Councilman, "I don't see how that's funny at all, young lady."
"It's a reference to a song, sir," she said. She was a truly terrible liar, but lucky for her Amak was completely incapable of seeing that.
Tarrlok saw his out and took it, sending Arnaq a cheeky wink and getting a flustered glare in return as she attempted to make up a song wholesale.