Measure Each Step to Infinity

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/5703577.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: F/F
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Relationship: Azula/Katara (Avatar)
Character: Ursa (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), The Gaang,
Ozai (Avatar)
Additional Tags: Azula's POV
Stats: Published: 2016-01-12 Completed: 2016-01-16 Chapters: 22/22 Words:
200908

Measure Each Step to Infinity

by paxbanana

Summary

Azula's growth from defeat to victory, one little step at a time.

 Prologue

It was infuriating that after all these years of wondering where his mother was that Zuko's men
finally tracked her to Ba Sing Se. It had taken months even after Ozai revealed her location to trace
her from where she'd moved after her banishment. Now Zuko, with his heart pounding and a cold
sweat on his neck, stood not three blocks away from his uncle's teashop in Ba Sing Se in front of a
small clothier.

He'd been so close all along.

He took a deep breath that did nothing to compose his jittered nerves and stepped inside the shop.

As his eyes adjusted to the shadowed interior, the heavy smell of dyed fabric was not quite enough
to overpower the soft, floral scent that immediately put him at ease—his mother's scent.

A voice, her voice, called from the back of the shop. "If you'll give me one moment, please, I'll be
happy to help you."

"Mom." His voice cracked, and he had to repeat himself to be heard.

There was a thud and the sound of cracking pottery. Zuko stood frozen as a woman threw back the
curtain that hid the back of the shop from customers. She burst from the back, started at the sight of
his scarred face, and reached out to him with tears rising in her eyes. "Zuko?"

It was his mother. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, eight years old once
again.

Only an hour later, they sat in Iroh's teashop. Ursa studied the interior, her tired face twisted into a
rueful smile. It was strange to see her wearing rough linen instead of red silk and strange that her
hair was streaked with gray. "I walk by this teashop at least once a week, but I never considered
coming inside."

Iroh sat down at the table with them, glancing across the empty shop. He'd closed up early for the
day. "I'm offended, Ursa."

Once again, Ursa reached out to touch Zuko's scar. He flinched from the touch. He wasn't
ashamed, but the nerveless flesh transmitted disconcerting pressure. Ursa blinked back tears, but
she looked angry, not sad. "Ozai did this to you. I can't believe… Is he still alive?"

"Yeah. He's locked up though."

"I hope you've done the same with Azula," Iroh said gravely.

Ursa turned a stunned look to Iroh, glancing back to Zuko. "Why would Azula be locked up?"

"She backed Dad in the war. She almost killed the Avatar."

"She's only fifteen," Ursa exclaimed.

"She's still a war criminal," Iroh replied.

It was strange to Zuko hear his uncle speak about Azula like that. He wasn't as sure as Iroh about
Azula's…well, not her guilt. She'd done everything and probably would admit it and be proud of it.
It was her culpability that Zuko sometimes wondered about. Even though he knew what she did
was wrong, she'd done exactly what Ozai and probably most of the Fire Nation elite thought was
right.

Not that he'd had much time to think about her at all while trying to restructure the Fire Nation
government.

The fact she was crazy helped make his decision for him: she had to be restrained for her safety
and everyone else's. Approaching six months after the end of the Hundred Year War, he wasn't
sure what could be done about her in the long term.

"She's a child!" Ursa's face was tight with emotion. "She's my daughter, and your baby sister," she
told Zuko, provoking a sting of shame. "If a coup has occurred, as you said, I don't understand why
she isn't being reintegrated."

Iroh's voice was quiet. He was grave, despite his words. "She cannot be saved."

Ursa gave a soft cry. She put her hand on his arm beseechingly. "How can you say that, Iroh?"

Iroh stood so that he could round the table and press his hand over Ursa's. They shared a long
unhappy look. "Ursa, if you saw her you would understand. Azula isn't going to be rehabilitated.
Everything that she's done—"

"She's your daughter!"

Stunned silence crashed over them after Ursa's deafening words. Zuko finally gave a small moan.
He couldn't process it, but he knew it was sick, it was wrong, and he would give anything for it to
be a lie.

"No," Iroh said, backing up. His face had gone white. "No, no. It can't be."

"You know it's true," Ursa gasped, her voice choked by anger and tears.

"She was born early—"

"I lied, Iroh. Azula was born exactly when she was supposed to be. She weighed a full half-stone."

Iroh sank down into his seat. "No. She's Ozai's."

"She's yours," Ursa said firmly.

"My child," Iroh murmured. When he lifted his head, there were tears in his eyes. "My daughter?
And you didn't tell me?"

"There was never a safe time. Ozai would have killed her, then he would have killed us; you know
that."

Iroh pressed his large hand over his mouth. He looked at Ursa almost blindly; now his tears fell.
Zuko got up from the table and walked away, unsure whether he wanted to throw a tantrum or
throw up.

Azula always spoiled everything. Everything. Even finding his mother again and having tea with
her and his uncle—the two people he loved most in the world. He found hatred in himself and
couldn't snuff it. Not right now, not about this.

Once again, Azula had stolen something precious from him. She'd stolen his Uncle Iroh away. He
could see it now: Iroh, who had been dead set against returning to the Fire Nation, would come
with them posthaste to see his…his daughter. Zuko put his head in his hands. Even the feeling of
Ursa's arm around his shoulders didn't dampen his sorrow.

With every step closer to the asylum and to Azula's cell there, Iroh's dread sat heavier in his gut.
This was not where he wanted to be, yet he knew he would stay. It was his responsibility now—
one he'd unknowingly shirked for years. If he had known…things would have turned out much
differently.

"Go away." The voice that emerged from the dark cell was low and hoarse.

Iroh was stunned at these living conditions. It was no better than the prison he'd been kept at for
months. No bed, only a mat of straw; no privy suitable for a young woman, only a bucket in the
corner. The room smelled like a stale body. Azula's clothes were a stained mess of what had once
been fine silk; it looked like the soft tunic and trousers worn underneath bone armor. In all the
months that she'd been here, had they never given her clean clothing?

Even had he not known that Azula was…was his…he would have been upset to see these
conditions. He thought he'd raised Zuko to treat his family better than this.

His child. His daughter. The result of a beautiful mistake shared with Ursa. At that point in his life,
he had loved her more than his late wife. He had loved her more than Ozai was ever capable. And
Azula was the result of that love. This girl… This girl who had done nothing but obey Ozai,
commit acts of war without thought of conscience. This girl who would never accept him as her
father.

"Azula."

Those shoulders twitched. The dark head fell slightly. She shifted; chains rattled. Was she in irons?
He saw that her hair was shorn uneven, and that it was tangled and greasy. Had she not bathed?

"What do you want, Uncle?" There was no acid in her tone, only defeat. He heard nothing of the
madness Zuko had described.

Iroh hesitated, then he sat on the cold rusty floor. His knees popped as he settled and crossed his
legs. "Your mother has returned."

Azula's shoulders flinched. "No," she said quietly.

"Ursa is here, Azula. In the Fire Nation. She wishes to see you."

"No," Azula repeated.

For the moment, he was completely at a loss for what to say or how to say it. He wished he had tea
to calm himself and to center his thoughts. "Guard," he called. When the man came, he requested,
"Tea, please. Two cups."

The man shot Azula a guarded look. "The prisoner is not to have utensils, my Lord."

"Two cups." It was a command, this time. He paused, then forged ahead. "Bath water and a tub,
warmed. Soap and scent. Fresh clothing fit for the Fire Nation Princess." He remembered Azula as
a little girl and her childish pleasure with the sweet coconut teacakes that were popular among the
lower class. He couldn't remember what proteins she enjoyed. "Soymeat with rice as well. And
coconut cakes."
The guard hesitated. "To be served with chopsticks." He was surprised to hear royal command in
his voice. It had been decades since he considered himself a Prince of the Fire Nation, but some
things simply were not forgettable.

"The Fire Lord commanded—"

"I can handle whatever attack a weakened young woman may level at me," Iroh replied, his voice
like iron. The guard no longer hesitated. He bowed and retreated from the room.

"I want to remove you from this place, Azula."

Azula's back was motionless. Iroh waited; there was no doubt the silence would coax her to speak.
Finally, she said, "Why?"

"Because you're my—" Niece, he was going to say. The word caught in his throat. "You're family,
Azula."

She gave a harsh laugh. "You don't understand, old man. I lost. I lost to a waterbender. I lost the
throne. I deserve to be in here. I deserve to die."

Iroh leaned back, allowing himself a rueful smile. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think things are quite
that bad. No one died. Your brother is the Fire Lord—not a rebelling noble—and the world is at
peace. You're alive; you can train and grow stronger and learn new things. See new lands. Taste
new teas." He chuckled. "And, well, Azula, losing is a victory in itself."

"I suppose you would know," she replied. The echo of those words was sharp in his head: the old
Azula would have said them with acerbic glee. This defeated girl in front of him had spoken with
nothing but bitterness. She was far too young to know how to produce that tone.

Three armed female guards escorted the bathwater into Azula's cell. They unlocked Azula's arms
and legs—chained in iron, Iroh was stunned to see—and he finally saw her state when she turned
around. Her face was dirty from sweat and dust, her hands—dear Agni, they'd torn her fingernails
off—were stained with old blood, and her ankles and wrists were raw and blistered from her iron
restraints. Her hair had been cropped as short as he'd feared; it was uneven and ragged, only several
inches long.

It was a practice he was angered to see occur in this situation: removing the hair and fingernails
from conquered generals, the latter usually reserved for women warriors bested in combat. Some
heads would roll from this ill treatment of the Royal Princess. How had Zuko allowed his sister to
be treated this way?

Iroh turned away as Azula removed her clothing. He sat and listened to the sound of water. The
warmth of the water carried the soft scent of lavender soap. Iroh fell into meditation, listening to
Azula bathe. She attended to herself for over half an hour. When she was dressed and the dirty
water carried away, Iroh was stunned at the change.

He hadn't seen her in almost a year. And now when he turned, she sat facing him, her hands flat
against her thighs. Azula's face and body were much too thin beneath the black silk robe they'd
given her. Her eyes were bright gold, but not the sharp intensity of the past; beneath them were
bruised shadows. Her cheekbones stood out against her face. Her dark hair was a mess, though now
clean.

Looking at her face, Iroh finally saw Ursa and Zuko. And, shockingly, he saw a little bit of
himself.
My daughter.

They both accepted tea, and Iroh watched Azula breathe it in, then drink it. She was savoring even
this weak cheap brew. Clearly she'd been given nothing but water and gruel for months. Iroh's
anger began to build, but he kept it to himself so he would not upset her. Finally, when a second pot
of tea was delivered with their food, he spoke. "Your mother would like to see you, Azula. I think
we would all prefer it that she not have to come to this place."

Half of the food was already gone. Azula ate quickly, though she was impeccable. How, Iroh
wondered, did I father this creature?

"What do you propose?" she asked, her eyes on the floor.

"With some promises of good behavior, you may return with me to Capital City."

"And I suppose my father is not being offered the same option," Azula sneered back.

It hurt—twisted and wrong and Iroh didn't know what he was feeling. "Ozai has not afforded us a
reason to offer it."

She seemed surprised—a fleeting emotion that she masked smoothly. Iroh realized that she hadn't
known Ozai was alive; he was fool for falling into that verbal trap.

"And I have?" Azula said.

"Despite how this will insult you: you are a child, a child raised by Ozai in an environment that did
not foster free thinking. I believe you may yet learn for yourself what is right and what is wrong."

"Go fuck yourself."

Iroh didn't show her the surprise he felt. He refilled his teacup and removed a wad of rice from his
bowl, placing the rice into the tea to soak its essence. Azula watched his action avidly. He could
almost guess she now wished to mirror him. Zuko had never cared for kanzai—rice in tea—but
Iroh had the sudden memory of Azula mimicking him as a child. She'd carefully placed her rice in
her teacup, sipped gently until the rice was soft, and then drank it down—just like Iroh did. Back
when Azula was a child, he'd not known what to make of her imitation. Would she break her pride
to mimic him now?

Azula ate her last bit of rice and set her empty teacup on the floor. She demolished her teacake in
one bite. Iroh smiled ruefully and offered her his cup of kanzai. "The choice is yours, Azula. Do
you plan to sit in this cell for the rest of your life?"

Her eyes darted from his face to the cup in his hand. They were both motionless for a long moment.
Then, slowly, she leaned forward on her knees and slid both hands in front of her in a low,
respectful bow. Iroh gently set his teacup into her upturned palms.
 There's always more to lose
Chapter Notes

Book 1: In the aftermath of the war, Azula must learn to live with losing: her country,
her father, and herself.

She gave up everything in that one gesture, sliding prostrate before her uncle. What was left of
Azula's pride stung bitterly, but she'd give up more to return to her nation. She'd give up
everything. And she did.

Iroh had always been an honest man, but she was still surprised when he fulfilled his promise. Not
fifteen minutes after he'd placed his teacup in her beggar hands, she stepped out into the open air
chainless and walked to a carriage that would take them to the capital. Or, for all she knew, to an
executioner's block.

The sun hurt her eyes and skin. She was dizzy from seeing so much openness around her in the
wide desert. Sounds and scents and sight burst forth like new life. Even if she were being led
straight to a hanging block, she would not regret accepting Iroh's offer. With every step from that
awful place, Azula felt weight both shift off of her and press back onto her shoulders: one step
away from one madness…one step towards another.

Ursa was back. Real tangible Ursa, likely indistinguishable from the nightmare vision that was
testament to Azula's insanity. She was afraid that the large, lonely palace would coax back the
madness that had left her weak and stupid that day of the most important battle of her life. The first
battle that she'd lost.

She sneered at her uncle when he tried to help her into the carriage, and he gave a rueful smile and
let her pull herself up. After she was settled on the bench, Iroh came up behind her. He knocked on
the carriage support, and they were on their way.

Iroh sat silent across from her. It was strange to see this man who was always stupidly relaxed so
ill at ease.

Azula's mind turned over and over, wondering what would be expected of her, what Zuko wished,
what gilded cage she would be chained to next.

What did it matter? Nothing did, not anymore. The only thing she'd ever cared about was gone, lost
from her certain grasp.

Soon enough, the carriage began its ascent up repetitious switchbacks along the outer edge of the
volcano that surrounded Capital City, mirrored by a shorter set of descending switchbacks along
the inner edge. Sounds of the city reached them inside the carriage. Azula finally turned her eyes
from the small spot of light she'd watched for the ride and considered the faint outlines she could
see beyond the linen curtains of the carriage. They were in Capital City.

She was frightened despite herself.

At last, the carriage rolled between the massive walls that protected the palace. They continued
past the buildings and grounds that she knew by heart. It used to be her home. Now she felt a
stranger to this foreboding place.

The carriage stopped, and Iroh got out. He reached out to her as she hovered at the lip of the
carriage. She eschewed his hand and stepped down herself—shamed by her own weak body but
refusing his condescending help.

"Azula!"

The cry made her flinch, as did the embrace. It was her mother, Ursa, arms wrapped tight around
her shoulders. Ursa squeezed her uncomfortably close and breathed against Azula's shoulder. Azula
closed her eyes, caught between being stunned by the emotional connection she felt in that moment
—her mother's scent: the smell of safety, of love, and of disapproval—and discomfort because of
the intrusion into her body space.

Ursa drew back to exclaim over her fingernails; they'd grown barely a centimeter since they'd been
taken from her months before. They were ugly, twisted, and the perfect symbol of everything Azula
deserved.

She stared at this Ursa who was standing there in front of her. The woman seemed real—not like
the apparition that had haunted her on the eve of Sozin's Comet. Azula reached out and placed her
hands on Ursa's cheeks. She considered the tangible feeling of this Ursa's body, the warmth of her
skin, the human shifts and breaths and stutters that the apparition hadn't displayed. Azula pondered
how easy it would be to snap Ursa's neck and end her life—her real life.

Ursa must have read the thought in her face; she stilled and her eyes widened in fear. It was that
emotion that clinched her reality. The apparition had known no fear in the face of Azula's rages.

She dropped her hands and walked away.

"Where are you going?"

She owed them no answers, not when she had no answers to give.

There was supposed to be peace in sleep, but Azula was plagued with dream after vivid dream for
hours. Finally, she found herself fading into dark rest—black and deep and blessedly empty. When
she awoke, Ursa was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her in silent study.

Azula stared back at her mother, her breath coming heavy in animal terror. Ursa broke their frozen
gazes and reached out with a strained smile to rub Azula's arm that rested over the sheets. "Good
morning, sweetie."

Azula flinched from the touch, drawing a wince from Ursa. She sat up and slid out of bed on the
opposite side. Her back ached from the soft mattress, and her joints cracked as she stood. Her
hipbones protruded through the thin silk of her sleeping robe. Her breasts were non-existent. This
body was the only one she'd ever known, but it was a stranger to her.

Ursa rose in a whisper of silk. She pulled Azula against her and pressed Azula's head to her
shoulder. The touch made fear skitter down her spine and tighten its grip around her neck. Yet...
Objectively, she could be perplexed that they were the same height. The apparition had been taller,
hadn't it?

"What's happened to you, Azula?"

So many things she could say to that. I am the rightful heir of the throne, and I lost it. I threw it
away. Dad abandoned me to launch a suicidal attack on the Earth Kingdom. I conquered the
unconquerable Ba Sing Se without killing a single soldier or civilian. I was the most powerful
firebender on the planet.

And yet, the only thing that mattered was:

"I'm crazy."

Ursa drew back. "What?"

Azula laughed in the face of her shock, continuing her thought. Ursa would flinch away, leave her
in peace, give her that look of disdainful disappointment she remembered so vividly from
childhood. "I'm out of my mind, insane, cracked, deranged, a fruitcake, tou—"

Ursa shook her. "Stop it! You're not crazy, Azula!"

Laughter continued, though now it took a bitter edge. "The only way you could make that claim is
if you were there, Mother, and if you were there on the eve of the comet, it's confirmation enough
that I'm right."

Ursa's grip tightened on her shoulders. "If you opened your history books a little more, Azula, you
would have read that Sozin's Comet causes hallucinations along with enhanced firebending in
some people. You and your brother—I hope you were both suffering the effects to agree to Agni
Kai against each other!"

Everything that had been screaming inside her stopped. Azula pulled away, placed her hand on the
bedpost, and halted. "Sozin's Comet," she heard herself say from far away.

"Or maybe I just know because Roku warned my family of what would come."

"Roku," Azula parroted, uncomprehending. She turned on one heel. "Avatar Roku?"

Ursa cocked her head, watching her with concern. "My grandfather."

It was strange. The world tilted on its head. Azula sat down on the bed and put her head in her
hands, unable to carry even that weight without support. "I saw you. I spoke to you. But you
weren't there. Every time I tried to sleep, you prattled incessantly. I was insane."

Ursa's weight shifted the bed. Azula looked at her mother, for a moment daring to believe that she
was not broken. Ursa's expression was rueful but loving. "I'm working at a disadvantage, aren't I,
sweetie? Not only did I abandon you, I drove you mad." Her hand gently rubbed up and down
Azula's back. Azula stiffened, unused to intimate touches. "I love you, Azula."

"You never loved me," she muttered bitterly. "The only person you had room for in your heart was
Zuko."

"That isn't true."

"I was the little monster, remember? No matter how much I excelled, I earned none of your love or
praise. Only Zuko, who always failed…" She was shamed her voice had grown thick with tears and
stopped speaking. Who had she become to be so weak?

Ursa squeezed the back of Azula's neck. It was a gentle touch, but Azula read possession and
dominance in it. "I have always loved you; don't you dare suggest otherwise. But your brother
needed me more. He always did."

Azula gave a quiet laugh. "I suppose I never did need. Save yourself the trouble now. I'll be fine
without you. Go and be with Zuzu."

Ursa's fingernails gently scratched at the nape of Azula's neck. "His scar, Azula. Your father did
that to him because I wasn't here to protect him."

No doubt Zuko had waxed lyrical about how awful it had been for him, how surprised he was that
their father had stood against him. "He deserved it." Ursa jerked and her grip tightened, but Azula
continued on before she could interject. "I told him to fight. I told him he had to."

"You told Zuko to fight?" Ursa's voice was tinged with concern and disbelief. "You knew your
father would stand in that Agni Kai?"

"I guessed," Azula said definitively. "I told Zuko that he had to fight no matter what happened
during the Agni Kai. Father commanded it of him, and he disobeyed. If he'd defended his honor,
then Father would have defeated him and let him stay. Zuko needed to fight. He did nothing; he
didn't take his classes seriously, he avoided war meetings, he neglected his bending. And then he
shamed Father by not standing in honorable combat."

"He was just a boy, Azula."

"No." Azula's anger at her brother bubbled up into a slew of words—more words than she'd spoken
in months. "Not just a boy. He was the prince, heir apparent to the throne of the Fire Nation and
that birthright means responsibility for the nation he would rule. Father gave him ample
opportunity to prove himself by fighting back, and he never did.

"He only faced Father during the Black Sun, refused to stand and take what was his by right. He
squandered everything! 'Father doesn't love me, he doesn't want me, I'm not worth it, I'll fail so I
won't even try'," she imitated. She unclenched her fists in an exercise of self-control. "What kills
me is that he has it all now after everything. And now he'll destroy the very nation he's supposed to
protect."

"Azula, nothing excuses a man from fighting and disfiguring his own son—"

Azula interjected. "That's the way Father is, and for Zuko not to know is a testament to his
oblivious stupidity. I sparred with Father every day. If I won, he had to hurt me to keep me
humble. If I lost, I wasn't fighting well enough and that has serious consequences. Father may have
marked Zuko the worst, but Zuko needed it to learn his station and his duties. I've been learning
that lesson day by day since I was old enough to fight Father."

Ursa's head dropped to her shoulder, and Azula was stunned to hear her sob. Incensed, she snapped,
"Don't cry! Not when you were part of the reason why! I'm better for it; it's shaped me to be who I
am, so don't you dare pity me!"

"I am your mother!" Ursa shook her shoulders, anguished. "I never wanted you hurt; I never
thought he would do that—"

Azula's rage was sharp, and she sat up so she could meet Ursa's gaze. Her face felt like stone from
her cold anger. She felt no satisfaction when Ursa looked at her like a stranger. She said clearly,
"You knew exactly what would happen. You knew Zuko would be treated the same if not worse,
but you chose that he live over our safety and comfort. A moral dilemma. The choice has been
made; it's worthless to regret it."
"Then why tell me?"

"Because I want you to know both sides. Don't pity Zuko any more than you blame him. He made
his choices, just like I did. Whatever failures we suffered are our own. They shouldn't affect how
easily you rest at night."

Ursa's hand fell to her face, gently cupping her cheek. "You're fifteen. You're a child. How are you
so cold?"

Her face was hard. "Practice."

She thought of the reality of her situation and her own certainty of her insanity, and everything
boiled up in a melange of chaotic emotion she could no more control than the sun. She began to
laugh, frantic and terrified. The noise bubbled up from her belly and burst out in gusty hiccoughs.
Ursa held her as her laughter broke into sobs that wracked her frail body. By the time she'd finished
crying, she was weak with a migraine and Ursa's own face was wet with tears.

All that hatred and frustration and pain…and yet somehow putting it all into words stripped the
power of those emotions over her. When she awoke the next time, she felt a dark weight had lifted
from her mind. It was one part relief and one part frustration that she couldn't even hold onto her
righteous rage anymore.

Azula had told herself in prison that she didn't deserve her bending. She'd done nothing there—
chained though she was—to continue her training, not even the simple breathing meditation she'd
completed every day since she was a young child. For half a year she hadn't touched her flame or
felt for her chi.

She imagined the months it would take her to return to her full strength and felt a rush of abrupt,
familiar despair. She nearly turned around to walk back into the palace after standing on the
training circle she'd used for many years. It was the perfect time: the light of the sun was strong but
not direct enough to add heat to the day. But, as had always been, there would be tomorrow. It
would be easy to put off.

This was the first step to the rest of her life, whatever that would be. She had no plans and no
hopes. The reality that Ozai was alive was tempered with the realization that he would not be open
to her now, not after she squandered the throne. She needed to work back to her previous power to
explore what she could do…and make nice in the meantime.

As afraid as she was to learn the extent of her decline, Azula thirsted for fire. She deserved to feel it
now; she wasn't broken past the point of repair. She took a deep breath and sank down. Lotus
position hurt her for the first time in her life, but she settled into it and relaxed by degrees. The sun
warmed her skin, and Azula took her first meditative breath.

She felt nothing.

For the next quarter hour, her breaths became shallow in her growing panic. Nothing. No fire, no
heat, no chi.

Her hands were open, palm up, fingertips curled so she could see the nailless tips. She couldn't feel
them. She gasped, unable to find enough breath to sob. Was this her curse for losing her rightful
place as Fire Lord to a foreigner? Was it a consequence of her bowing and giving in to Iroh?

Losing her fire meant losing everything.

She still remembered her first fire: waking from a dream to see her bed canopy burning. She
remembered the first time she'd bent fire at will. She remembered the terrified triumph she'd felt
when she manipulated the intensity of her flame, producing searing blue fire. She remembered the
screaming pain and pride she'd felt tearing her poles apart to release lightning for the first time.
What was she now that she couldn't find fire in her soul?

The answer was clear:

Nothing.

"You will dine with us." Ursa stood above her bed. Her voice was a sharp break to the monotony
of silence. Azula stared at her mother's shadow on the wall. She'd been unable to do much else.

"Get up, Azula. We're eating dinner."

After standing there for a minute without getting a response, Ursa sat on the edge of her bed and
touched her forehead. "The servants tell me you haven't gotten out of bed in over a day. This will
stop now."

Azula stared past her mother, ignored her until she got up and left. She wished they'd left her in that
prison cell. She wished they'd taken her to an executioner's block. She wished she were dead.

A shock of cold water splashed down on her face, burning as it went up her nose and down her
throat. Azula sat up, sputtering, stunned by indignity of it. She coughed uncontrollably for a
moment. As soon as she gained control over her lungs, she jerked her head around and met her
mother's unsympathetic eyes. An empty water pitcher dangled from one of her hands.

Ursa spoke firmly. "Get up. Bathe. Get dressed. And meet your family for dinner. I will stand and
watch if I need to."

In the end, it was Azula's anger that made her obey. The stupidity of it wasn't lost on her, especially
as she sat down at a table with three people she wouldn't have deigned to share rice with a year
before.

Iroh, acting consistently strange since he'd seen her at the prison, gave her a small, uncomfortable
smile. "Good evening, Azula."

She ignored him.

Her eyes turned to her brother, whom she hadn't spoken to since their Agni Kai. He was wearing
the official robes and crest of the Fire Lord. The sight of him wearing the mantle of the ruler of this
great country was twined bitter in her gut. He didn't deign to look at her.

The unspoken aggression at the table was palpable even to the servants, who walked as though on
needles.

Ursa looked around the table and smiled brightly. "It's lovely to eat as a family again."

Azula accepted the bowl of rice and plate of spiced meat and vegetables that a servant placed at her
elbow. She ignored the mood as she ate. She flicked her fingers for another serving before she
realized she didn't want it. The food materialized just as she finished her tea—as she often planned
her meals—and the servant refilled that as he replaced her food.

She had finished eating in less than ten minutes. Azula stood to excuse herself—silencing her
mother's certain protest with a glare—and walked away from the table.

Bed beckoned, with it thoughtless oblivion. But now that she was up, Azula grasped at her mother's
claim about Sozin's Comet and its psychological effects. Maybe it also had an impact on bending
after the fact. It was a small hope, but it could be a reason, and more importantly, it could give her
a way to fix herself. That small hope caused her to walk to the palace archives—and return every
day for the next few days—to find answers.

Not a single scroll and book in the archives on Sozin's Comet mentioned insanity or hallucinations.
Only one very old tome used the words "bad dreams" to describe negative effects the comet had on
affected firebenders.

Perhaps it was no great surprise that historians were unwilling to mention the royal family could go
out of its figurative mind during the event. Maybe a Fire Lord of the past had ordered such
accounts destroyed. She would never know the difference.

When Azula was four, a historian had written about her father's blundering campaign to take a few
trade cities nestled into the mountains of the west coast of the Earth Kingdom. Ozai was not a
tactician. He'd never led a successful campaign. He'd managed to stage a miserable defeat in part
because he'd not factored in the tides that had destroyed half of his naval fleet.

The historian had most likely written truth in his accounts, but Azulon gave his blessings to Ozai to
challenge the historian to Agni Kai. Ozai had brought Azula along to the palace to watch him
disintegrate the old scholar. It had taken weeks for the smell of charred human flesh to clear from
the palace. It had taken longer for Azula to stop dreaming about the man's animal screams of pain.

She might have more luck with personal accounts. Azula used the family tree to pick out
firebenders that likely lived around the time of the passing of the comet, particularly ladies of the
court. It was common for noblewomen to write daily accounts of their lives, often with hidden
innuendo and secrets. Noble families made it common practice to donate all of these accounts to
the royal archives for their family's posterity.

When she made her request, the archive head, a pleasant portly man named Yanu, begged her
forgiveness. "These accounts are delicate. We will have to copy out passages for you to read,
Princess."

"Then what are you waiting around for?" she asked him sharply.

The archivers were quick. She was reading through inches of copied diaries the next day. It was
under the pen of Lady Lina—a cousin to the Fire Lord during the twelfth recorded pass of Sozin's
comet—that Azula found confirmation of Ursa's claims.

The woman had written in the ancient, dead Fire Nation language. If not for her use of the phonetic
script that many noblewomen had adopted to the universal language and still used today, Azula
would not have been able to read the copied passages.

There was great excitement over the Comet. My family has left for the festivities at the royal
palace. I could not go. There is a man sitting in the corner who commands me to stay. So I stay.
And I sit under his gaze. This man died twelve years ago at the hands of my husband. He was my
lover. I sit here, writing in agonized terror, and wait for this visage to leave me in peace. Why is he
here?

A second, older account existed from the pass prior.

Whatever fool that says firebenders become invincible with the comet should be fed to the dragons.
Insanity is not invincible. I am currently carrying on a conversation with my great-grandfather
and my father. My father is halfway across the world on a campaign. My great-grandfather is
dead. And yet here we sit, chatting about this damn comet. I've locked myself into this room, yet I
can hear the servants whispering about their mistress talking to herself. I fear they will turn on me.
So I sit here and wait for this insanity to be over.

Two accounts, much like Azula's own experiences. She would need to dig deeper to discover if
these women had lost their bending like she had. At least she knew she wasn't alone in her
weakness. There might be hope.

Despite her fear that she wouldn't regain her fire, Azula found herself meditating and performing
her katas day in and day out. It was fruitless, but she fell into a mentality of inevitability that was
not quite hopelessness. Her katas were comfortable but empty with no bending to complete them.
But the physical actions of controlling her breathing and performing the stances were enough to
increase her strength.

She retrained her muscles and eventually called in servants to spar with her. It would be months
before her muscle tone and endurance returned, but Azula already felt physically better for taking
these steps.

When she got her bending back, she would flow into it easily.

She refused to think of the alternative.

Training certainly trumped most other mundane activities she could perform in the palace. Agni
knew her mother requested she do the silliest things: flower arranging, tea ceremony, poetry
writing. She'd had some reprieve by being purposefully awful at them all, but even in that, Azula
would rather kick a hornet's nest and brave a swarm of five centimeter long insects than any of
those useless things.

Putting up with her mother at first was 'until I regain my bending'. Then it turned into: 'for today'.
Then she made no excuses at all.

Her days were filled despite herself. She regained some of her palace staff—who were loyal to her
only because she was the sister of the Fire Lord—and once again had access to the rumors that
circulated among the servants. They were the most informed people in the Fire Nation, which was
a valuable lesson imparted by Lo and Li. She trained and poured over the royal archives, and
occasionally, she entertained her mother's whims to see a play or listen to a musical performance.

She stopped avoiding Zuko after a few months of her pointless existence in the palace only to find
that he was certainly avoiding her. They were never alone together, and he never spoke to her. It
was just as well, she supposed. Let him take all the responsibility and see how it felt to carry the
weight of a nation on his shoulders.

Azula's life was empty, full of meaningless nothings. She was aimless, like a leaf in the wind,
desperately unhappy. The only difference between the palace and her jail cell was that she had a
comfortable bed, ate good food, and had a working lavatory. She didn't know why she kept going.
Inertia, perhaps.

Training, which used to be her one true pleasure in a day, was now just the reminder of her failures.
But she continued every day out of pure habit.
One day Iroh sat down next to her in the training circle. Azula knew from the quiet murmurs
among palace staff that reached her servants' ears that he meditated daily too—and that Ursa and
Zuko occasionally joined him. This was the first time he'd deigned to sit with her.

"What do you want, Uncle?" She opened her eyes and regarded him with unveiled disgust.

Iroh's face went through a shocking range of emotion. Azula couldn't apprehend what this man's
problem with her was; it was easier when he thought she was a blight on the world. Now he seemed
to want to like her and was surprised at himself for that. Was it possible he pitied her that much?

"Would you like to learn how to redirect lightning, Azula?" He asked it like a man offering candy
to a child.

She laughed and was pleased when Iroh's face stilled in shock. "Do you think I don't know, Uncle?
I sparred with a talented lightningbender every day, and I'm still alive to talk about it. Do you think
I'd have managed a day under him if I hadn't learned for myself?"

Iroh paled visibly. His voice stalled as he spoke like he tasted the words for the first time. "Ozai
bent lightning when he trained with you."

"How else would I learn how to protect myself from it in real battle?" She didn't understand his
shock; the only way to prepare for the pain of battle was to feel it first.

"It saddens me," he finally said, his ridiculous face folded into a frown of disappointment. He
looked like the play-mask for grief used in children's theater. His expression paired with those
words prompted her careless laugh. "Don't pretend you ever cared about me."

Iroh winced. "That's unfair, Azula."

"You never cared to know me in the first place. Even your presents were insulting. A doll from
Earth Kingdom? When Zuko's gift was General Tao's dagger of surrender?" How odd that that was
what she thought of first. Maybe because it was the first insult she remembered. Her jealousy over
Zuko's gift was still sharp in her mind. How stupid.

"You remember his name?"

Azula lost all patience, and Iroh read that, abandoning his patronizing shock that she would know
the details of a Fire Nation war campaign. His surprise melted to disappointment. "I never had a
daughter. I assumed that was what all little girls wanted."

"As I said."

Iroh remained seated when she stood and walked away. She could feel his gaze on her back.

A week later, he sat down with her as she completed her cool-down breathing exercises. He
removed a bundle from his robes and unwound the silk scarf that surrounded it. The item clicked
as he set it on the stone next to Azula.

She continued her breathing exercises until her heart rate had returned to normal. Azula wiped
sweaty strands of hair from her face—far too short to pull back still—and readjusted her clothing.
Then she reached out without looking, and the knife settled into her hand.

As she walked away from the training grounds, she studied it. The sheath was hardened black
komodo rhino leather, lined with golden stitching in the pattern of a dragon. The slender guard of
the dagger was carved into two stylized dragon heads. Its blade was double-edged polished steel,
about the length of her palm. It was balanced for throwing, but it fitted into her palm well enough
that she knew she could use it traditionally.

Azula turned the knife over, slid it back into the sheath, and slipped it into her robes. She was
irritated by her own satisfaction.

What one hemisphere of the planet considered winter was simply rainy season in the Fire Nation.
At least one hurricane would hit Capital Island, gaining strength in the warm still waters of the sea
that centered Fire Nation territories. Likely the entire week would be sunless with heavy rains and
powerful winds.

Azula woke that morning knowing she wouldn't have the sun to bolster her training. She wandered
down to the indoor dining room of the residential wing of the palace to take her breakfast. There
Iroh consumed his morning gruel as he read a scroll. His bites were tempered by each line of script
he read.

He smiled and bade her good morning. Possibly he meant it. They'd reached an impasse in the last
few months. Azula didn't consider his presence insufferable anymore so long as he didn't speak to
her. Breakfast was a silent—and because of that—comfortable affair.

As Azula finished her own breakfast, Ursa swept into the room and settled down to take her meal.
"How did you sleep, sweetie?"

"Fine," Azula replied dourly.

"I was thinking we'd bring in an actor's troupe to perform Flight of the Dragons. How does that
sound?"

"Perfectly dreadful." Azula got up in the attempt to escape any more questions.

"Sweetie, you know I hate it when you tie your sleeves up. It's just so masculine."

The familiar nag raised Azula's hackles. Never in her life had she not tied her sleeves. "I don't care
if it makes me grow a cock, Mother. Tying my sleeves is practical."

Ursa gasped in shock that would likely turn to anger on short notice. Azula beat her retreat then
before her mother could draw the argument out, but she wasn't fast enough to miss Iroh's resulting
guffaws.

The royal archives were in a different wing of the palace. Azula concentrated on her breathing:
decreasing her breathing rate from every step to every other to every third and so on until she
stepped through the massive double doors into the palace archives. It was usually bright with
filtered sunlight, but today heavy water-treated curtains were closed against the storm.

It was a bit like a dungeon, reminding her of hiding behind the throne room curtains when she was
small.

"Princess Azula, good morning." Yanu, the head of the order of the archivers, bowed his bald head
to Azula. As always he smiled at her presence for some reason. "We've laid out scrolls pertaining
to your research yesterday about the beginning skirmishes of the Hundred Year War. Is there
another topic you would like to read about?"

"Something lighter this morning, Yanu. My mother wishes me to learn more of the arts. Perhaps
something about the history of dragon painting."
Yanu's lips twitched but he made no comment. Dragon painting in all its history was bloody and
brutal. The Fire Nation elite of old often fed foreign slaves and criminals to their dragons and
captured the scenes in paintings to further immortalize their dragons' ferocious nature and the Fire
Nation's domination of other peoples. There was always blood, often pain, and usually innards
splashed across each famous painting.

Maybe she would try her hand at an imaginary scene and gift the scroll to her mother. Ursa would
love it.

Azula decided on a table by the heavy drapes, enjoying the sound of the storm raging outside. Her
bodyservant, Kota, swept forward and arranged the chair and lantern. Yanu laid a scroll and two
books across the neighboring table. "I suggest starting with the scroll, Princess. It documents how
the tradition of dragon painting began and has several examples copied within to illustrate it."

She accepted his suggestion. Yanu and his workers had always served her well from the start of her
trips into the archives. She'd spent much of her life after Ozai took the throne split between the
training grounds and this place, reading about military tactics, firebending strategies, and the
enemies of the Fire Nation.

To what end is it now, she asked herself and could find no answer. Personal expansion was always
a worthy pursuit, but she had nothing to show for it, no responsibilities. Zuko wouldn't let her touch
her nation; that much was clear. Not that she deserved it. No fire, no rule. And without fire, she
could do nothing for Ozai and had no hope of managing a coup, no matter how unstable the
government currently was.

Sometime later, her servant interrupted her reading.

"Princess."

She lifted her eyes from the second book and regarded her bodyservant. Kota bowed respectfully.
"It's midmorning, Princess."

Azula stood, motioning to Yanu to leave the texts as they were. She would return to them later that
day.

Midmorning katas and meditation would last until lunch. As had become custom, Iroh settled—
grunting, his knees popping—next to Azula in the indoor training room. "Quite the weather we're
having. Do you think we'll get another hurricane this season?"

The weather was a safe topic.

"Likely." She paused to reply. "It's only the beginning of rainy season, and western Earth Kingdom
has seen unseasonably warm weather. With the ocean currents, I would be surprised if it doesn't
propagate another storm."

She realized, for one stunned moment, that she'd returned to the palace at least a year ago. The
rainy season of last year had started not long after Iroh had removed her from prison, hadn't it?
She'd been here a year, doing nothing. Azula opened her eyes and looked down at the rounded
crescents of the tips of the fingernails that had finally grown back.

A year.

Iroh cleared his throat uncomfortably.

A year that this man had been skirting around her like a squirrel monkey, begging for scraps, too
scared to get too close. "What is your problem with me, Uncle?"

Iroh started, turning his head. His mouth opened and closed. He cleared his throat. "I should tell
you," he said quietly. He cleared his throat again. "It is surprisingly difficult to put into words."

"That's odd to hear from someone who has verbal diarrhea," she sneered.

His smile was rueful. "Then, I suppose I should just get this over with." He took a deep breath.
"Azula, Ozai is not your father."

She cocked her head, unable to process those words. Why would Iroh make up such a lie? Azula
laughed sharply. "Is this some sort of tactic to make me a good little girl?"

"I know who you are, child, and I'm only telling you this because it is the truth. Azula, your mother
and I had an affair before your birth. You are my daughter."

Outside, the heavy winds of the hurricane battered the drapes. From somewhere in the room, a
clock—newly invented by a Fire Nation engineer—ticked. Azula was only vaguely aware that her
own breaths were coming sharp and shallow. She stared at Iroh, saw his apologetic expression, and
she hated him.

She got up and took two strides away. "No!" She'd screamed. She whirled around to face him with
her accusation. "Liar!"

"I'm not lying, Azula. I'm your father."

The sound that came from her was sharp: a scream of rage that should have spouted hot flames and
tears. But there was nothing but pain.
 If it's not one thing, it's another

"Princess Azula, your mother will be arriving soon."

"How soon?"

"Within the half hour."

Azula drew her body off the dais on the porch and accepted the robe her servant draped around her
shoulders. She reached up and removed the tie that most of her fine hair had already slipped out of.
It was hardly any use putting it up; her hair was still too short to stay where she wanted it.

The sound of the ocean contrasted with the tenseness that settled over her shoulders.

"Why am I just learning of this?" Her voice was sharp. It was over a week early for Ursa's monthly
visit.

"I'm sorry, Princess. We didn't hear of any plans for an early visit."

Azula couldn't temper her scowl. She put her hand on the porch railing and looked over the thick
vegetation to the sandy beach beyond. She'd been letting the jungle grow to give more privacy to
this old family home on Ember Island. A sigh escaped her. She would have to tolerate her mother
for at least a few days. If Iroh came…

She didn't want to think about seeing that man again.

Every time she thought of his claim, she seethed in greater anger. Her birth was the result of her
mother's infidelity with her husband's brother. She was a bastard, the natural born daughter of a
rambling buffoon.

If she had been able to firebend when Iroh told her, she would have killed him. The rage had
lessened only slightly in the few months since his confession and Ursa's confirmation.

"Prepare tea and the master guestroom."

"Yes, Princess."

Azula folded her arms and tried to gather her patience. She entered the house and dressed in a silk
robe and loose trousers. Kota dutifully tied her sleeves above the elbow. Azula remained barefoot.
For the second time that day, Kota drew the hair above Azula's ears back into a short ponytail.
Azula watched the process in the mirror.

Her face had filled out and the seemingly ever-present circles under her eyes were gone. She
looked healthy, if not happy. She certainly wasn't happy. Azula waved off Kota's attempt to put
makeup on her face and slide a pin in her hair. "Send an invitation to Lo and Li for lunch."

Her original plan for the day was to nap through the afternoon and wander down to the beach in
the evening. She was tired. She'd pushed herself hard that morning while she trained, and she'd
swum a full lap around the bay. Instead of a relaxing day, she would have to put up with her
mother's questions. In the very least, she could amuse herself with the presence of two women Ursa
hated.

Azula walked into the courtyard and waited. Soon enough, Ursa stepped through the open gates of
the beach house and reached out to Azula. Azula suffered the hug, despite herself relaxing at the
scent and presence of her mother. Forgiving her mother was much easier than it should have been.

"I wasn't aware you were coming for a visit."

"Zuko needs me back at the capital next week so I thought I'd come see you a little early. You look
so good, Azula! You've been taking such good care of yourself recently." Ursa gently squeezed her
arm, and Azula wondered if her mother was testing her muscle tone. Before she could react, Ursa
loosened the ties at her elbows. Azula's robe sleeves flapped out unchecked, a mass of unrestrained
silk that now slid past her fingertips.

Azula glared at the two silk strings that Ursa slid into the pocket of her robe. She ground out,
"Would you like tea, Mother?"

Ursa's lips pinched, and Azula knew she'd struck a nerve. Her mother had asked on more than one
occasion for Azula to refer to her as babyish 'Mom'. It felt too strange on Azula's tongue. She
paused in the hallway, and Kota set her sleeves to right, cinching them above her elbows once
again. Azula's irritation was mollified somewhat when Ursa's expression soured.

As they sat down together on the same balcony Azula had planned to take her nap on, she dutifully
asked, "How was your trip?"

"Terrible, as always. I wish overland was faster than sea travel." Ursa sipped her tea and sighed,
fanning herself despite the cool breeze that carried from the ocean. "At least it takes long enough to
traipse across the island to this house for me to recover from my seasickness."

"Perhaps Zuko could designate an airship for you."

Ursa pointedly ignored Azula's facetiousness. "That would probably be far worse." She sighed into
her cup. "What are the Ember Island Players showing now?"

Azula glanced over at Kota, who waited at the doorway to serve them. She bowed, answering the
question. "I believe it is a production of the romance Ali and His Bride, my Lady."

"Well, doesn't that sound delightful?"

Of course it sounded delightful…and Ozai liked to wear pink ribbons in his beard. Azula laid her
head on the table. Ursa laughed at her. "You could at least pretend you want to see it."

"I could also be a giant purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings," Azula muttered
irritably.

"I don't understand."

Azula lifted her head. "Old joke. The point is, I'm a very good liar, but certain things aren't worth
the effort."

"Are the Ember Island productions really that bad now?"

For the sake of brevity, she ignored the 'now' in that question. "In the grand scheme of things,
they're not horrible. But personally, I'd rather spar with Dad on one of his bad days than go see that
group of maudlin people who couldn't act their way out of a rice-paper bag."

She'd meant it as a joke, but Ursa's expression darkened. "What do you mean, spar with Ozai on
one of his 'bad days'?"
Azula couldn't mask the frustration in her voice. "How many times must I repeat myself? He
prepared me for the battlefield. He's the reason I'm not dead on the end of some Kyoshi Warrior's
sword or crushed by an earthbending maniac." Azula waved her hand casually.

"I… I can't believe Ozai sent you on your own to do these things!"

Azula got up and walked to the edge of the veranda to gather herself and even her anger. She didn't
miss that Ursa was careful to not call Ozai Azula's father—an anger on top of everything else.
There was nothing she could say to explain to her mother in terms she would understand. Ursa
thought of things like love, happiness, and gentleness. Ozai thought of usefulness, responsibility,
and power. One did not translate to another.

Ursa set down her teacup with an audible clack. "Your brother tells me that you've been petitioning
to have Ozai moved."

In one way, Iroh's confession had jump-started her. She knew her limitations now, and while a
coup would never happen and the throne would never be hers, she could at least help the man
who'd raised her, no matter if he wanted her help or not. What was facing Ozai's anger in
comparison to everything else that had gone wrong in her life?

"No doubt he's been living in the same conditions I suffered."

"He doesn't deserve any better."

"He was the Fire Lord of this nation. He's my father—"

"Azula!"

"I don't care if you fucked Iroh, Mother!" She snarled as she turned. "Ozai is the man who raised
me, who cared about me. Iroh never cared, and neither did you."

Ursa lurched to her feet and slammed her fists into the table. The tea set rattled, and twin orange
flames flicked from her nostrils. "Ozai never loved you, Azula! He used you like a soldier!" She
took a calming breath and pressed her palms into the table, as if soothing it after her strike. "I
wasn't there, and Iroh wasn't either. That's true. But we love you. We're here now. That's something
Ozai can't give you."

"And whose fault is that?" Azula gesticulated with a broad sweep on her arm. "He's locked up in
prison, and I've been denied visitation rights over and over again."

"Azula, it's not in your best interests to see him."

"I'm an adult. I can decide for myself what my bests interests are."

"You're only sixteen."

"I'm an adult," Azula reiterated. "I can join the army, vote, drink, and marry."

"Iroh wants to see you."

A bitter laugh escaped her. Of course Ursa would bring it back to Iroh. "I don't want to see him.
He's not welcome in this household."

"He owns this house."

"I own this house," Azula snapped. "Everything that was in my father's possession at his
imprisonment was given to me, through his enacted will. This house is mine, and I dictate who is
allowed here."

"Your brother was the first in line for succession—"

"Dad disinherited him—"

"Ozai is not your father!"

Azula was so angry that her sight went red. She turned away so she didn't have to look at Ursa.
Azula wished she could use bending as an outlet for the white-hot rage that roared through her. She
heard Ursa walk up behind her and allowed her mother's arms to wrap around her shoulders.

Ursa said, "I don't want to fight."

"You certainly fooled me." She wanted to be away, alone, somewhere distant. "Don't you dare
touch my sleeves!"

Ursa laughed softly. "I won't. I know you love Ozai. And you respect him. But Iroh is a good man,
and he wants to be here for you."

Azula swallowed, angry with herself for the tears that rose to her eyes. "I can't. I can't see him."

"Think about it, sweetie. I'll talk to Zuko about moving Ozai and your visitation rights."

That meant it would happen; her brother wouldn't say no to their mother. She found it in herself to
say, "Thank you."

"Shall we go down to the beach before lunch?" Ursa punctuated that question with a kiss to Azula's
cheek.

Her mother had offered her a hand of peace. Azula was obligated to respond civilly. "As you wish."

They wandered down to the beach and walked along the tide. The lines of stress on Ursa's face
melted away when she turned her face into the breeze. Good for her; Azula still struggled to calm
herself. They didn't speak, which made it a little easier. After perhaps an hour wandering along the
ocean, Ursa suggested they take lunch.

Azula's lunch guests had arrived in their absence.

"Good afternoon, Lo and Li." Azula greeted the women who sat waiting in her dining room with a
formal nod. She ignored Ursa's sharp glare of accusation. Lo and Li both bowed back, echoing,
"Thank you for the lovely invitation for lunch, Princess."

Ursa was pointedly silent, and her expression had taken a thunderous cast.

"We noticed your workout this morning, Princess," Lo said. Her lips curved into a long grin.
"You've been working very hard. Perhaps it's time to reintroduce fire into your impeccable katas."

Azula stiffened, and Li continued, "Or perhaps it's that you've forgotten how, Princess."

"Such a thing is not uncommon after a devastating defeat," said Lo.

"But you're great enough to rise above it," continued Li.

"Both of you shut up before I have your tongues cut out," she commanded, her voice low in
warning. Ursa was watching her, and she sent her glare across the table, warning all three from
continuing the conversation. Lo and Li widened their eyes and peeked at each other.

"But of course, Princess."

"Forgive our mistake."

Azula feigned relaxation. She slumped sideways in her chair and rotated her wrist, her eyes off
towards the ocean. "Mother tells me that she would like to see the Ember Island Players. Have you
two been to the theater for the newest play?"

"Rather silly."

"But harmless fun."

"Perhaps you two would like to take her."

Ursa interjected. Her mouth was drawn into a stiff smile. "Azula, sweetie, there's no point in me
going without you. I'm here to spend time with you."

"Of course," Lo said. "Indeed," Li replied. "Children do grow up fast."

Azula was disappointed in the cordiality that Ursa and Lo and Li pretended to have for each other.
Ursa usually lost her patience with the women—partly because they'd done such a good job
training Azula at such deadly skills. That particularly past discussion had been shockingly enraged
on Ursa's side. Azula remembered her mother's temper, but she'd forgotten how hot it was. Now it
was fun to prick at that anger.

After a lazy lunch, Lo and Li left the house. They bowed to Azula and Ursa and stated they must
have Azula over for dinner at some point. She declined, still smarting from their inference that she
had lost her bending. Whatever hope she'd had that Ursa would sense her mood and leave it alone
was wasted.

"Have you lost your bending, Azula?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Ursa snatched her arm. "Did the Avatar see you when you were in prison?"

She was startled by the anger in her mother's voice. "No."

Ursa's grip tightened. "Don't lie about this, Azula. If he took away your bending, I need to know."

She didn't like to think about the Avatar's egomaniacal handling of her father; part of her still didn't
want to believe it. Reaching into a man's soul to strip him of his bending was too horrifying to
believe. Yet it had happened, and it had happened to the one person who loved bending more than
Azula did.

"The Avatar didn't touch me. If he had, I would have given him another scar to match the one I put
on his back."

Ursa released her, exhaling. "I'm sorry. Your brother… I worried that he might have asked for your
firebending stripped."

Azula had never considered Zuko might do that to her. He knew how important bending was to
her. He knew it was her life. He was her big brother. Azula was stunned to realize she'd taken that
for granted.

Ursa read her reaction. "I wish you two would forgive each other. I wish our family was whole
again."

"We were never whole."

Ursa brushed her fingertips through Azula's hair and pulled her into a hug. "Do you remember
when we vacationed here, when you turned four? We had a party and brought a petting zoo in.
That zebra rhino bit Ozai. You and Zuko stayed up late that night and snuck out. I was frantic. We
found you down by that old shack on the beach. Zuko was crying because you'd cut your back
crawling inside. Do you remember?"

The memories flitted in, and Azula slowly relaxed into her mother's shoulder, fighting tears but not
knowing why.

She hated herself and the rapid fluctuation of her feelings from rage to sorrow, her self-pity, her
frozen inability to act. This was not who she was, not who she was meant to be. But it still felt good
to be in her mother's arms again. She hated that too.

After half an hour of ignoring her, Ozai finally spoke. His voice was sharp. "Why are you here?"

Azula glanced up from her teacup. "The same reason I came last time, Dad. I'm checking on you."

Ozai glowered at Azula from across the room. She sipped her tea at the table and refused to be
intimidated. She'd sparred with this man daily and had beaten him as often as he beat her. The fact
she could no longer bend was matched with his ultimate loss. If he wanted to kill her, he'd have to
use his bare hands like last time.

Not that Ozai had tried very hard two months ago. She'd certainly expected the blow and the grip
he'd taken on her neck. It had been simple, really, to bring him to his knees by breaking his pinky
finger. After that, they'd drunk tea together in malevolent silence as his eyes flickered around his
new abode. This time, the visit had started with the malevolent silence. Progress, perhaps.

Ozai's lip curled in a familiar sneer. "I'm stunned you would dare show your face to me, Azula. My
wayward daughter. I hear you're enjoying yourself down at Ember Island, wasting your days away
while your worthless brother sits on the throne that is mine. And here I had thought you'd spent the
last two years constructively."

Nevermind she'd been in prison for half a year too.

"Are you comfortable here?" she asked.

Ozai paced. He wore a silk robe and slippers. His bed was made in the corner, and a gated window
opened into a quiet garden. His staff—and guards—lived in the compound with him. The entire
place was surrounded by a tall, heavy wall topped with razor wire. Beyond that, miles of desert.

But it was better than a two meter by two meter cell with a straw mat in one corner.

He'd gained weight in the two months he'd been here. It was odd to see a round belly over his belt.
He'd shaved his beard short and cropped his hair close to his head. He looked old. At her question,
he waved his hand dismissively. That meant he appreciated the change. "They overcook my food
day in and day out."
"I'll speak to the chef."

"You should be working to free me and to usurp your brother! Have you no pride in this nation?!
It's bad enough that you lost to him, and now you let him control you."

What would he think of her if he knew the truth? Would he rage more about Iroh's blood in her
veins or that she'd lost her firebending? In any case, it was time to leave. Azula stood, and Kota—
who refused to leave her side in place of one of Ozai's wardens—gathered the tea set. Ozai wasn't
allowed anything breakable in his chambers. "I'll see you in eight weeks, Dad."

"Don't you dare come back, you pathetic excuse for a daughter! A true daughter of mine would
have killed Zuko and protected her country! She would have protected her father from the
megalomaniac Avatar! You're not my daughter!" His shouts burned her back as she strode through
the door. It closed heavily behind her, locks snapped in place, but she could still hear his muffled
shouts behind it.

Perhaps her conflicting emotions were too close to the surface. Kota ventured to say, "This was a
better visit, Princess."

She sent her servant a warning look and put every bit of sarcasm she knew into her words: "Yes, he
didn't try to kill me this time."

As she stepped out into the hot day, she considered her options: visit Capital City to see Ursa or be
besieged by her mother in a week at her home on Ember Island. It would be the first time she'd
returned to the palace since she'd left for Ember Island months ago…and probably worth the
trouble in this case. They stepped past the bowing guards and towards her waiting carriage. She
spoke to the carriage driver, "To the Royal Palace."

"Yes, Princess."

Azula motioned for Kota to join her in the carriage impatiently. She was irritated that her servant
had overstepped, but she wasn't about to leave her standing there outside of Ozai's prison. She
could hardly trust one of Zuko's servants to attend to her.

It was an hour's ride to the volcano city. They would probably reach the palace in time for dinner.
Azula considered that sour thought as she adjusted her sleeves and settled into the seat more
comfortably.

"Anything of note going on in the capital?" She hadn't asked in a few days so there was probably
more information to glean.

Kota spoke quietly with her head down, still cowed by her earlier familiarity. "Fire Lord Zuko has
officially announced Lady Mai as his consort."

"Oh dear, oh dear. When do they plan to get married?"

"A date hasn't been set yet."

Azula shuddered, thinking of them procreating. What sort of maudlin whiny beasts would they
produce?

"Lady Ursa has officially broken her marriage to Ozai."

"Don't tell me she's been carrying on an affair with Iroh," she muttered.
Kota pressed her lips together. Azula stared, stunned. "She has?"

"The servants of the palace confirm it, Princess."

Azula pressed her hand to her face in disgust. "Has everyone lost their minds? Don't tell me they
plan to marry!"

"There's been no word of such a thing."

"Thank the dragon for small favors."

That particular bit of information was enough to completely blacken her mood for the rest of the
journey to Capital City. No one was in the palace courtyard to greet her when they arrived aside
from royal staff who attended to the carriage and ostrich horse that had drawn it. Kota murmured
briefly with one of them, then caught up to Azula. "Your rooms are ready. The royal family is
supping on the east balcony."

What a terrible way to end a frustrating day: family dinner. She swept down the hallway,
wondering how interesting she could make this get-together. As she stepped past the silk curtains
onto the balcony, Ursa rose and rounded the table. "Azula! I had no idea you'd be visiting."

"I was making sure Father's care had continued." She accepted Ursa's hug despite herself and tried
not to think about the fact that this woman had opened her bed up to Iroh. She seized Ursa's hand
before her mother could reach her sleeve ties. Ursa gave her an affectionate smile and gave up on
that venture.

"Hi, Azula," Mai said dryly, blatantly dropping Azula's title just to show she could.

She still wasn't sure how to act towards Mai. Cordiality implied Mai was forgiven, which implied
she was right for what she did… But what was the use in acting like a child? Mai had won by
choosing Zuko. Wasn't that just the smart choice? Surely it had never been personal, not for
pragmatic Mai. "Good evening, Mai. Congratulations on your engagement to my brother."

Mai's eyebrows lifted just slightly. Her cheeks compressed somewhat, indicating a smile—likely
sarcastic to match the tone of Azula's words. "Thanks."

"Azula, you look well," Iroh said as she sat down. She didn't look at him.

Zuko snorted. "Enjoying farting around at Ember Island?" he asked. He looked tired and stressed,
no doubt from the growing unrest among the noble class.

"I do not 'fart around', Zuzu. I languish. But I am enjoying it; thank you for asking." She took the
bowl that a servant placed beside her. Grilled white fish with fruit dipping sauce. Not her favorite.
"I hear the nobles are unhappy with their heavier tax burden."

He scowled. "I don't know how else we're supposed to rebuild this country. Ozai spent almost
everything on war machines."

"You're right, of course. But you can't apologize to them. You have to tell them."

"What the hell do you know about it? You were never Fire Lord!"

Azula set her bowl down as Ursa snapped, "Zuko, don't start!"

"I never bore the title, Zuzu, but I was the royal princess and heir apparent every year you were
prancing around with Uncle Iroh—" Iroh winced at her title for him. "—wasting your time finding
the Avatar. Dad was usually too busy for trade and commerce, so I had to sit in those meetings in
his place. It was boring, but I know how it works."

"By all means." Zuko gestured wildly, nearly knocking his drink off the table. "If you want to do it,
then do it!"

"I don't."

He stood up and gave a wordless snarl of anger. She should feel smug. He'd chosen this life for
himself when he'd accepted her Agni Kai challenge. Instead, Azula almost pitied for him. His
entire life, he'd never wanted this responsibility. And now it fell on him like a burden. She was in
no position to help him, even if she'd wished to. She couldn't firebend. She was worthless to the
throne.

For the first time since the end of the war, Azula sought out her brother. She'd carried a question in
the back of her mind since Ursa had revealed her heritage. It seemed as good a time as any to speak
him one on one; she was tired of carrying the question around with her. She found him in his study,
asleep on his desk.

"Brother."

He lurched up and looked around like he had no idea where he was. Stress had lined his face, and
he had bags under his eyes. His disorientation shifted into distrust when he saw that she'd been the
one to wake him. "What do you want?"

"How long have you known we are of Roku's blood?"

He slowly sat down. His look of distrust and anger didn't change. She wasn't intimidated; Ozai
managed that expression when he had a little headache. She waited.

"I'm busy."

"Which is why you were napping on…" She leaned over his desk and spun the scroll around with
her finger. "On a financial edict." She frowned as she studied it in more detail. "You shouldn't sign
this. The Zan family would scalp you blind; they own most of the refineries in that district."

His mouth tightened, his hands clenched, and then he gave his tension up with a sigh. "I wasn't
going to." He sat silent for a moment. "I knew about Roku because I read Sozin's memoirs. He
talked about Roku. And I asked Iroh."

Of course. Of course he asked Uncle Iroh. She'd sometimes wondered what had caused him to turn
traitor to his own family. Zuko had always loved Iroh more than anyone else. "And you had a
crisis of faith."

"I had a crisis of faith when I agreed to help you in Ba Sing Se."

Azula laughed at his petty retort, provoking more anger. "Don't go all guilty on my account. I
would have won with or without your help."

"Then why ask?!"

"Because I wanted you home."

"You've always treated me like shit! Don't pretend you care about me."

"I don't like you. I've had to watch my entire life as you, the heir apparent of the Fire Nation,
squandered your birthright. There is nothing to like about that. I thought this would be a way for
you to finally fulfill your role as Prince." She'd wanted him home again, even if it meant she
wouldn't take the throne. Taking the throne for herself was a wish she'd entertained since Ozai's
appointment, but not one she'd ever seriously thought would be fulfilled.

"I was just a kid! If you hadn't forgotten, Ozai did this to me!" He pointed at his scar.

"If he'd marked your chest, would you be less dramatic about it?" She rolled her eyes.

"Fuck you! You never loved me."

She was conflicted in that moment, upset he felt that way and angry with herself that he could hurt
her at all. Her words fell abruptly flat. "You're my big brother."

"No, I'm not. All my life, you've taken everything away from me. And now you've stolen Uncle
too."

Of course he would be jealous of something Azula had never wanted. She couldn't stop her bitter
laugh. "If you think I'm happy about that fuddy-duddy clown providing his seed for my
conception, you're a greater fool than he is. And you're still my brother no matter how much you
don't want it to be true."

Zuko put his face in his hand. His voice was thick, not with anger but—she was stunned to hear—
with guilt. "I was supposed to protect you."

He was bouncing between emotions so quickly she could barely keep up. "I don't need your
protection."

"Uncle told me about the asylum. They ripped your fingernails off."

"How did you think they would treat Ozai's favorite in the wake of his deposition…and my own?
Admittedly, my manner during the comet's pass probably didn't dissuade them from handling me
as they did," she conceded.

Zuko slammed his fists on the table. "I didn't know! No one said anything to me! I should have
visited you. I would have fixed it!"

Azula couldn't contain her sharp laugh. "You feel guilty? Don't bother. I deserved to rot in that cell
for the rest of my life for my failures. The shame is my own."

Zuko's shoulders sagged, perhaps in relief. "All I ever wanted was a family."

"You have one," Azula pointed out. "You may not like me, but I'm here. I always have been."

She watched his understanding slowly dawn. With it came acceptance, if not happiness. They
would survive this.

Azula wasn't surprised when Iroh settled next to her during her meditations the next day. While her
home on Ember Island was her sanctuary, apparently he thought conversation with her was fair
game in the royal palace. He cleared his throat and asked, "How are you, Azula?"

Instead of ignoring him like she wanted to, she found herself saying, "You haven't told him."
"I beg your pardon."

"You haven't told Da—" She stopped, startled by the incongruity of her coming statement. "You
didn't tell Ozai that he's not my father."

"There is no reason for him to know."

"Then why tell me?"

"Because I'm a selfish old man. I lost my son long ago, Azula, and finding out that you're my
daughter… It was like a second chance. I told you because I wanted you to know."

"Me? I would think you'd wish Zuko was yours."

Iroh's voice was quiet. "I love Zuko very much. But having a child with Ursa… Azula, I regret
every moment that I didn't know. I regret never trying to learn who you are. But there's still time."

"You ruined my life. On top of everything else that's gone wrong, you tell me that I'm not who I
think I am."

"Are you so defined by your connection to Ozai?"

"You just told me that finding out I was your daughter changed your life. Was it not supposed to
affect me the same way?"

Iroh lowered his head. "I'm sorry, deeply so. It wasn't the right time to tell you. But it may never
have been. I want to get to know you, Azula. May I visit you on Ember Island?"

Ursa would nag her to death if she didn't give him this. She sighed sharply, tired of her wavering
feelings towards everything. "Come if you wish, but don't expect a warm welcome."

By his expression, it was like she'd welcomed him as her father with a kiss and embrace. He smiled
through his tears. "That's all I can ask for."

Four days later, Azula finally stepped into the courtyard of her home on Ember Island. She'd
suffered a play, daily family dinners, Iroh's hesitant conversation, and her mother's nagging for the
entire visit. She'd lost at least eight sleeve ties to her mother too. Now Azula was looking forward
to the beach and the sun and her bed and most of all: quiet.

Which made it all the more vexing when her majordomo rushed out into the courtyard and began
to bow profusely. He was not an excitable man. Something must have happened.

"Forgive me, Princess. But a young lady by the name of Katara has taken up residence in your
absence. I was unable to remove her from the household before your arrival. We aren't certain as to
the reason for her presence, but she claims Fire Lord Zuko has given her express permission to stay
here."

Katara. And Zuko knew the entire time of her visit that this girl had taken her home?!

Azula flushed in rage. She strode into the house, down a hallway, and threw open the one closed
door. From inside, the waterbender lurched to her feet with a scream of shock.

"Why, pray tell, are you encroaching upon my privacy?!" Azula snarled.

"Azula?" Katara's eyes rounded. She looked around herself before taking a defensive stance and
snapping off the cover of her water skin.

"This is my home, peasant. I demand to know why you're here!"

Katara's jaw dropped. "Your home?! Zuko told me I could stay down here. He never told me
you're living here or believe me, I wouldn't have come."

"Then get out!"

"Where am I supposed to go?"

"Do I look like I care?!"

"Zuko told me I could be here, so you're the one who's encroaching!"

"I own this house!"

"I don't care if you think you own this entire island! Zuko's the Fire Lord, and he gave me
permission!"

Azula wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the next thing she was aware of, they were wrestling
on the floor, snarling against each other as they tried to get the other in a submission hold. Katara
put an elbow in Azula's eye socket, but Azula managed to drag her into an elbow lock.

Kota, her bodyservant, stood in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the undignified scene.
They both froze at the sight of a third person, and Azula took advantage of that to tighten her grip
on Katara's arm. "I'll break your arm if I have to. I'll let you go if you agree to talk about this
civilly."

"Like you know how to compromise!"

"I've been doing a shocking amount since the end of the war, Katara."

Katara stilled at the sound of her name. She relaxed and said, "Okay. We can talk."

When Azula let go of her arm, Katara rubbed her elbow. She rolled over and paused when she
looked into Azula's face. Azula blinked blood from her eye and got to her feet, refusing to show
how much her eyelid ached from the blow. Doubtlessly her eye would swell closed.

She vaguely wondered why Katara hadn't used waterbending to subdue her.

A few minutes later, Katara walked out to the balcony to join Azula, and they took tea. Azula
breathed in the scent of her tea and realized that it did go a long way to calming the nerves.
Imagine that: she agreed with Iroh about something. "This house is big. If you wish to stay here,
you may have one wing."

Katara eyed her suspiciously.

Azula tightened her jaw and offered the rest of her suggestion with more generosity than Katara
deserved. "And you may make use of one of my servants to attend to your needs."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Trust a commoner to need clarification on a servant's duties. "Bring you bathwater, clean up your
quarters, make sure there's food on your table at the appropriate times. Et cetera."
"I'm not sure I trust one of your people to give me food. What if you poison me?"

"If I wanted to kill you, waterbender, I'd use a knife."

"Oh, that's sweet of you," Katara muttered.

Azula curled her lip in wordless reply to Katara's sarcasm. "If you don't want to stay here after all,
I'm sure you can find suitable housing elsewhere."

"I'll stay here, thanks," Katara snapped. She hesitated. "You really mean that about your servants?"

"So long as my needs are met, you're welcome to what you require. My supplies are billed to the
royal coffers, so whatever you need here will be funded by them." That might provide a bit of guilt.
Azula sipped her tea, irritated that her split eyebrow had begun to bleed again. "Now tell me: why
are you here?"

"I told you—"

"I mean to what purpose are you here?"

Katara paused, as if she hadn't considered that for herself yet. Her face hardened. "That's none of
your business."

"Fine, keep your drab secrets." Azula could appreciate the honesty in that response, as much as it
irritated her. She got up, ready to go to bed and be done with the day. Katara got to her feet as well.

"Wait."

Azula flinched as Katara opened her water skin and bent water into her hand. "Let me heal that."
Her water-covered fingertips glowed as they approached Azula's eye. There was soothing coolness
and an itching shock on her eyebrow, and when Katara withdrew, Azula could open her eye fully.
The swelling had disappeared. She touched her eyebrow and felt tender skin over what used to be
an open cut.

A peace gesture, perhaps. Azula gave Katara a nod in recognition as she stepped into her bedroom.
Instead of going to bed, she changed into casual wear and walked out to the beach. She wandered
along the surf, watching the sun set and the waxing moonlight dance off of the waves. The scent
and sound of the ocean always settled her nerves.

Likely she would need a lot of settling in the days ahead.

She was surprised she wasn't bitterer about the identity of the person who had stepped into her life.
She should hate Katara. But there was a dichotomy in her mind: hating Katara would mean she had
no reason to hate herself. Blaming Katara meant that she was exempt of blame herself. And in it
all, Azula knew her loss was her own fault. Had she not done what she'd done, weakened herself in
every way that she had, she would have defeated her brother and Katara.

So why hate and blame the girl who had simply performed her best to save her own life? Ozai had
taught Azula many things, even when he himself didn't understand his own lessons: the existence
of blame casts its shadow on the accuser.

As much as she wanted to blame Katara, she couldn't.

It took three days for Katara to approach her again. When she did, she did so with condescension.
"What exactly do you do here?"

Azula looked up in irritation as Katara took a seat at her study desk midafternoon. She'd been
reading about trade laws and was, despite herself, incredibly grateful for an interruption, rude or
not. "I don't have time to deal with your curiosity."

Katara scoffed, nibbling on a teacake. "All you seem to have is time."

It stung. Her tone was appropriately caustic. "Why ask a question if you've already decided on the
answer for yourself? You still haven't answered my question as to why you're here."

Katara hesitated, settling down in her seat. "Look, I need a vacation, but I'm starting to think this
place isn't all that relaxing."

"It was quite relaxing before you barged in on my home."

"I don't know why you don't just blame Zuko for that, since you hate him anyway."

"You know nothing."

"Oh, enlighten me. Because I remember you trying to kill him more than once."

"Maybe you should remember him doing the same to me." Azula's mouth tightened. "He stood in
the way of what was best for the Fire Nation. No matter my feelings about Zuko, he had to be
pushed aside."

"He's your brother."

"I'm well aware." Her half-brother, a thought that had surprising hurt attached to it. Azula sighed as
she sipped her drink. "You have a brother, right? The stupid one with the ponytail."

Katara scowled. "What of it?"

"If he set out to do something you knew would destroy the Water Tribe, would you stop him?"

"Sokka wouldn't do that—"

"This is clearly a hypothetical situation. If Sokka went mad—"

"Like you did," Katara muttered.

Azula ignored her with great effort and continued, "—and decided he had to destroy your people,
would you kill him if you had to?"

"No!"

"How can you be so sure? Is your brother more important than an entire nation of people?"

"I beat you without killing you, didn't I?"

Azula rocked back in her seat, speechless. She wasn't sure what was stronger in her: rage or shame.
She walked off the veranda of her study and onto the beach, unable to stomach staying in a room
with that—that bitch, that peasant, that ignorant little girl who clearly knew nothing of the
responsibilities of a royal family.

She beat you, you stupid, worthless girl. Azula wanted fire so badly she ached. She wanted to
scream it out, melt flesh from bone, and torch the world. Nothing would stand in the way of her
anger if only she could find her flames again. Azula opened her hand and exhaled, and what should
have been there, so easy, warm and powerful in her, was cold and empty. No flame. Nothing.

Katara followed her onto the beach. She said, "Maybe we should finish what we started."

"A fight to the death?" Azula replied, her heart thumping louder than her dry words.

"No, I mean our fight the other day."

She laughed. "We did finish it. I put you in an elbow lock. Unless you prefer I break your arm
now."

"We could use our bending."

"It would be unworthy."

Azula turned on one heel and walked away.

She heard Katara's running footsteps behind her and grinned in anticipation. Azula dodged
sideways, leaving her ankle out. Katara tripped and went down, and Azula was on her. She tried to
get an arm around Katara's neck, but Katara jerked her hips, and they rolled.

She was stronger physically than Azula had assumed. It was exhilarating to find that out for
reasons she couldn't fathom. Her enemy was strong, graceful, and a very good fighter even without
bending. This would be a challenge, especially when the purpose wasn't to kill or maim.

Katara's knee found Azula's gut, and she had to roll away to catch her breath. Katara got to her feet
as well and came at Azula with a swift punch. It clipped her jaw, and she countered with a neat jab
to Katara's stomach. Katara was at the advantage, and though she grunted, she'd stiffened in
preparation for the blow. Azula blocked her counter and this time landed a solid punch to Katara's
jaw.

Katara threw herself at Azula's stomach, and they went down again and began to wrestle like
peons. They probably looked like fools, but it was exhilarating. Azula slipped Katara's hold and got
to her feet again. The next round of blows they traded left Azula's cheek smarting and Katara's
right nostril bleeding.

They went down in the sand again, each attempting to gain the advantage. They fought long
enough that both of them were winded from the effort. In their final bout, Katara landed a blow that
made Azula double over. But she retaliated with a head-butt that left Katara reeling.

They both fell into the sand, gasping for breath. As soon as Azula could draw air into her lungs,
she shocked herself by letting out a peal of laughter. "We're a couple of fools!" she gasped. She let
out another round of hearty guffaws before she rocked into silent laughter.

When she looked up, she was surprised to see Katara watching her in shock. Her blue eyes seemed
especially sharp in this light. The sight of Katara with her hair down and wild and sandy, her nose
bleeding and a bruise coming up on her cheek, added to the hilarity of the situation. Azula wiped
tears from her eyes. "I think I have several pounds of sand in my clothing. Next time, let's take our
little battle up past the dunes, shall we?"

"I didn't think you could laugh," Katara said at last. She was incredulous. "I can't believe it… Did
you have fun doing that?"
"Didn't you?"

Katara hesitated, but Azula could see she was considering it. "You're out of your mind."

"That was Sozin's Comet," Azula countered, still grinning fiercely despite herself. She felt almost
drunk from the adrenaline of that fight. It was so obvious she'd been missing that. She got to her
feet, shook sand out of her silk trousers, and offered, "If you want, I can fight you again."

"Who are you?"

That sobered Azula immediately. A few years ago, she would have spoken with fierce pride: I'm
the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. Now, she looked past Katara into the gray waves of the
ocean and admitted, "I wish I knew."
 Promise of compromise

It would go to figure that Ursa would come for a visit anyway instead of postponing because Azula
had visited the capital. She brought Iroh with her too, joy of all joys. Ursa was surprised by
Katara's presence, but Iroh seemed pleased. He asked after the blind earthbender, Toph Bei Fong,
and they carried on a long, pleasant conversation that set Azula's teeth on edge. At least it saved her
from having to exchange words with him.

"I think we should see the new Ember Island production," Ursa proclaimed over a late lunch. Iroh
hesitated, and Azula dared think she had an ally in him. Then he replied, "That sounds lovely,
Ursa."

"You would say that," Azula accused sharply, "since you're sleeping with her."

Katara gasped, and Ursa's expression shifted from surprise to anger—as if for a minute Azula
wouldn't know they shared a suite now. Iroh, however, gave a great laugh. "You will learn with
time, Azula, that sometimes it's best just to go along with those you love."

She wanted to finish his statement with: 'Or be nagged to death?' but she didn't dare with Ursa
glowering at her like that.

Perhaps because of Iroh's reaction, Ursa didn't actually scold Azula for her accusation. Maybe she
knew Azula's attendance that night was punishment enough. Iroh also insisted Katara attend; Azula
wasn't sure what to feel about that. All four of them were bound for the theater that evening despite
figurative heel dragging on Azula's part.

Given the stage props and laughably illustrated play poster, entertainment would be a long time
coming. What was her mother thinking, wanting to attend the theater here of all places? Capital
City's finest plays were bad enough, and they were considered high quality.

Once upon a time, the Ember Island Players had been the Royal Productions. It was a highly
prestigious acting company that had traveled the lands of the Fire Nation. When here on Ember
Island, the director of the troupe discovered the affair between his wife and an actor. He had left
this island with half of the funding, actors, props, and all of the troupe's reputation. And so the oh
so cleverly renamed Ember Island Players was formed. It had never recovered from its ill
beginnings, but the ill beginnings were likely why it was still around. Nobles adored a good
scandal, even a century after the fact.

When they stepped into the box, Azula motioned for Iroh and Ursa to take the front row. Ursa
smiled at her polite gesture; apparently she hadn't realized that it would be easier for Azula to sleep
away the evening in the back of the box. Katara sat down next to Azula and rolled her eyes at the
play leaflet in her hands. Azula would have thought she'd be impressed by the theater. She was
pleasantly surprised when Katara muttered, "This is going to be awful."

It was enough to coax Azula to say, "I wasn't aware you knew of the absurdity of this acting
troupe."

Katara glanced at her; her expression thawed a little. "I saw The Boy in the Iceberg. It was horrible.
They didn't even put Zuko's scar on the right side of his face. And Toph was played by a man."

Azula allowed herself a laugh as she pictured it. "Imagine that, I would have actually enjoyed it."

"Probably not since you were in it," Katara muttered. She hesitated, then continued, "Anyway,
when you—your actress, I mean—killed Zuko, his dying shout was 'Honor!'"

Azula couldn't stop her laugh. She asked, "When was this put on?"

Before Katara could answer, Ursa turned around and hushed them both sharply. Azula rolled her
eyes at the back of Ursa's head. The lights fell and the curtains opened.

As the play progressed, Azula amused herself by watching the audience below. The man down in
the front corner seemed happy to pick his nose in public, and a couple in the shadows near the side
balcony was definitely engaged in illicit activities. There was a woman crying down in center but
her husband was sound asleep next to her. He had the right idea.

At least it was dark enough that Azula could lean her head back and doze. She's finally dropped off
to an off-tune variant of the national anthem when Katara elbowed her sharply. Azula jerked out of
a bizarre, song-filled dream and woke with a snarl.

"If I can't sleep, you can't sleep." Katara whispered behind her hand. She explained, "They're
singing now."

Azula was distracted from her outrage by the performance. "Is that singing? I was dreaming about
komodo rhinos rutting."

"Ew! Why would you—" Katara shook her head. "Nevermind. Do you think if I iced up the stage
they'd quit?"

"At least I would be entertained."

"Girls!" Ursa turned around and shot them both angry looks. "Be. Quiet."

Katara's eyes went wide at Ursa's glare, but she shared a conspiratorial look with Azula when Ursa
turned back around. Azula realized what had just happened: they'd talked like two people who
didn't consider each other enemies. Katara seemed to realize it too because she quickly turned
away and said nothing else to Azula.

The second time Azula woke up, it was by Ursa's pamphlet smacking her on the face after the end
of the play. "I should have known," her mother muttered darkly. "You and your brother are exactly
alike. No appreciation for the arts."

When they arrived home, it was still early enough that her nightly walk was feasible. Azula
changed into loose trousers and a sleeveless tunic and walked down to the beach barefoot. She was
surprised to see Iroh waiting for her and consigned herself to the interaction.

"How are you, Azula?"

How mundane. "Fine, I'm sure."

"May I walk with you?"

What would he do if she actually said no? Azula considered it for a moment before she shrugged.
Iroh smiled and walked alongside her, his outline dark against the inky ocean waves. "How is it
working out with Katara?" He hesitated. "I notice your faces are bruised."

"We fought. It was the most fun I've had in months."

She sneered at him, prepared to hear his condemnation of their violence. To her surprise, Iroh
chuckled. "I can understand that. Peace can get quite…boring."

"I'm shocked you say that, old man."

"I'm a firebender. Of course I enjoy a few good fights every once in a while. I'd always hoped I'd
outgrow the feeling, but that has yet to happen. I fear now it is unlikely."

They were silent as they walked in time to the soft rush and thunder of the small waves that broke
along the shore in high tide. Azula slowed her steps and stopped just before they reached
distinctive twin beach houses on stilts about two kilometers from her private beach. The buildings
marked the end of her normal walk.

Iroh looked up at them. "Who lives there?"

"The Bouli family owns both, but they rent out one of the homes to other noble families. The Lam
family is currently residing." Old Lam's granddaughter had been married promptly after her
sixteenth birthday to a distant Bouli cousin. The marriage had earned the right for Lam to pay
money to stay at that house. Azula didn't understand nobles and their fascination for forging
marriage alliances; they were a breed of their own.

Azula ignored the hesitant wave the man standing on the candle-lit porch sent their way. Iroh,
however, returned the wave. "Bouli and his kin have supported your brother staunchly since the
end of the war."

"Do you think I don't know that?" she asked Iroh drolly. What was this, a lesson on noble families
and their ever shifting loyalties?

Iroh turned back to her. His face was lit in part by the moon and in part by the faint light from the
houses at the beach. "Does it upset you that your mother and I are in a romantic relationship?"

"Is it romantic? All I know is that you two fuck."

Iroh slapped her.

Azula was startled for a moment before her surprise shifted to humor. Finally, something about
him she could respect! She laughed. Her cheek stung, but the blow had been halfhearted at best.
She lifted her hands to applaud. "Bravo! I didn't think you had it in you, old man."

Iroh stared down at his hand as if he'd never seen it before. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm so
sorry."

"Why?" she asked as she turned back down the beach. "I said something that deserved a slap. If
you do love my mother, that is."

It ignited his anger again. "Do not reduce what I feel for your mother to a physical relationship.
Don't you dare say those words to your mother. Even then I'm not excused from striking you."

Azula ignored his apparent crisis of guilt. All over a little tap to the face. She was glad this man
hadn't raised her; she wouldn't have survived long in battle if that warranted an apology. Ozai had
burned, he's punched, and he'd kicked. Each blow landed was a lesson: don't get hit.

She stepped onto the non-stinging bulb of a beached jellyfish and enjoyed the squish of it between
her toes; if it hadn't been dead before, it was now. She quickly diverted her path along the sand to
wash her foot off in the surf. "Did you start before she officially divorced Ozai? Or did you carry
on like you did when you conceived me?"
"Ozai was never a husband to your mother, Azula."

"Does it make what you did right?"

"I loved her. I do now. That trumps everything else." He reached out to gently squeeze her
shoulder. She pulled herself from his grip, and his voice took on a regretful cast. "You'll
understand that someday."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I wouldn't dishonor myself."

"When I look at you, all I see is honor. That is what you are, Azula, honor and dignity and so much
pain." He sighed. "You and your brother, so much alike in that way."

She turned away. His words stung far more than his hand had. "You don't know me."

"I'm beginning to understand. I wish you'd let me help you."

The implication of his last statement shamed her.

"She told you."

"Ursa shared her concerns," he confirmed. "She said you can no longer firebend. I'd assumed
before it was by choice; I should have asked you."

Again with the pity. "It's temporary. I'll figure out how to fix it."

"I would like to help you."

"No." She lost her fire herself; she would regain it herself.

Instead of pressing her, Iroh acquiesced. "Please tell me if you change your mind."

Blessedly, he fell silent for the rest of their walk. She by far preferred him like this. As they
approached the familiar patch of beach that sat in front of the estate, the sight ahead coaxed them to
stillness: water and moonlight, and a figure spinning in graceful circles, seeming to command them
both.

Katara swirled seawater around her, froze droplets, and twisted in the center of a mass of moving
water that shone in the bright moonlight. Her grace and pure ability were breathtaking. Azula was
reminded once again that this girl had beaten her and that she had held her own in combat in more
than one fight. Perhaps she was the most talented waterbender on the planet.

In an odd way, it stroked Azula's ego to think so.

"Katara, how lovely. Do you often practice at night?"

Azula wished Iroh hadn't interrupted the scene.

Katara released her water back into the waves with a twist of her hips. "It's the full moon so I just
felt like it." Her hair was down and wild and her feet were bare. Instead of a peasant, Azula
suddenly saw her as a foreign princess, master of her own element. She wished she could meet her
as a worthy equal. It would be exhilarating to have another bending duel. Katara might be the only
person on this planet worthy of meeting Azula's flames in battle.

"What are you two doing out here?" Katara asked as she approached them.
"Just a pleasant walk. It's been many years since I've been able to visit Ember Island. I remember it
being just this peaceful. Alas, I'm an old man now, and it's past my bedtime." He stunned Azula
when his whiskered face drew close and gently kissed the cheek he'd struck. "Goodnight."

She stared after his retreating figure. Katara stared too and summed it up by pronouncing, "That
was really weird."

Azula opened her mouth, then closed it. Never in her life had a male relative kissed her before.
Then she remembered Lu Ten used to tickle her and kiss her so long ago. Lu Ten, who had been
her brother…

Katara laughed. "Wow. Did Iroh just kill you with shock?"

Azula's eyes filled with tears. Immediately, Katara lurched towards her, all her humor gone.
"What's wrong? Did Iroh hurt you?"

Azula thought of the family she might have had and the one she'd lost. Her shoulders shook as she
tried to hold in a sob, but Katara's arms came around her shoulders and she couldn't contain herself.
Katara's arms rounded her body, holding her close until Azula stopped struggling against the
embrace. She cried hard, shuddering sobs into Katara's shoulder. One hand cupped her neck and
the other rubbed her lower back. Katara hushed her as if she were a child.

When her sobs finally died down into empty gasps against the wet silk on Katara's shoulder,
Katara's arms remained around her. Azula heaved a shaky sigh as she conceptualized how pathetic
she was. Ozai had made it clear early in her life that crying in sight or sound of anyone—servants
or otherwise—was unacceptable. Was it irony or karma that she was so weak with someone she
couldn't simply command respect from?

"I guess you don't hate me," Azula said dryly, reflecting she hated herself enough for the both of
them.

"Are you okay? Is Iroh being inappropriate?"

Azula laughed, her voice nasal and weak. "Iroh wouldn't know how."

"Why are you crying then?"

Why? Because she was weak and foolish and had lost all self-respect. Azula shoved Katara from
her and walked away.

"Azula!"

"Go away," she managed to say, though her voice wavered with more unshed tears. It wasn't the
royal snarl she'd wanted to use, but it had the same result.

Katara kicked sand and shouted after her, "Fine! Whatever. It's not like I care."

Azula enjoyed a single hour of peace the next morning before Ursa found her on the beach. Her
mother stood silent for a moment. When Azula didn't acknowledge her, she asked, "Why do you
train every day?"

Azula took a deep breath in the lotus position, reaching in to find the echo of chi within her body.
She didn't feel it, but her lungs were strong and full and her heart was powerful, pumping slowly.
Her diaphragm warmed in liquid heat with each exhalation. It was as close to heatbending that
she'd managed so far.

"I've never seen anyone stretch like that."

Azula almost wished that Iroh had come down to sit with her during her workout, not Ursa. At least
he wouldn't wax lyrical about simple training exercises.

"Did you make up those katas?"

She drew in another heavy breath. She'd been adapting the strange form that Zuko had used when
he'd faced her in Agni Kai. It was centered and steady, unlike any other firebending form she'd
used before. She wanted to employ it, bend fire with it, but for now she worked on the movements
and breaths to go along with it.

One day she would use it, and she would be better than Zuko could ever hope to be.

"How much of your life have you wasted on these arts?"

Azula's meditation was finally broken when she shouted out her incredulous laughter. "Arts? This
is life, Mother!"

Ursa looked down at her in surprise that turned to disapproval. Her arms folded into her sleeves.
"Firebending isn't that important. There are far more important things in life."

"Peace, love, and tranquility?" she asked snidely.

"Family." Ursa's glare warned against Azula's disrespectful tone. Her mother hesitated and
arranged her skirts to sit primly in the sand across from Azula. "Iroh said... Did you really bend
lightning, Azula?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe that Ozai would put you in that kind of danger."

"I love it. It's exhilarating and powerful, and I thank Ozai every day for giving me the tools to learn
how."

Ursa's tone went sharp. "Did he appoint those two old women to you? Lo and Li, who taught a
little girl how to bend an element that could easily kill her."

Lo and Li hadn't actually taught her how to bend lightning. She'd done it herself the first time…
with disastrous effects. She'd ripped her poles apart correctly, but she hadn't known how to release
the lightning she'd coaxed. It had gone straight through her soles into the earth, practically melting
her feet to the ground. It was her most painful training accident to date. Ozai had forced her to bend
lightning correctly before he'd let the royal physician tend to her wounds. She was thankful for it;
she might never have bent lightning again if he hadn't.

Ozai had also appointed Lo and Li to chaperone her bending training sessions thereafter to avoid
those embarrassing and inconvenient accidents. She considered trying to explain that Lo and Li
were there for her protection and realized she'd probably have to reveal the circumstances of their
appointment. It wasn't worth the effort.

"I surpassed all my tutors. They were the only ones who knew enough to teach me."

"My prodigal daughter."

Azula's mouth tightened. "You mean prodigy. Precocious would work too, while you're at it."

Ursa's expression shifted to tender pity, a sharp insult. "I said what I meant, sweetie. You're so
intelligent and strong and you're squandering that. Maybe your training is one way for you to
stay…focused, but I don't think it's healthy or productive. I wish you would consider coming back
to Capital City and helping your brother or at least resuming your lessons."

Hadn't she already said she'd surpassed all her tutors? "I can't live in that palace with you people.
You'd drive me mad."

Ursa sighed. "Think about it."

Azula, still stinging from the 'prodigal' comment, resolved to do no such thing.

She was paralyzed, lying in bed, staring up at the Avatar who loomed over her. His black silhouette
was inhumanly large and horribly malignant. He reached out and placed his hand against her
forehead. Her breaths came in sharp gasps and she tried to raise her head, tried to lift her hand, and
tried to breathe fire.

She couldn't.

His eyes glowed white, and his mouth opened in a wide grin as he reached into her soul.

"Azula!"

She awoke with a gulp of air and a clumsy swing of her arm. Someone seized her wrist to halt the
blow. Azula dropped her arm and stared with wide eyes at Katara, who looked back at her in
surprise. She took in her surroundings and grounded herself in reality. Shivering from her cold
sweat, Azula rolled into half-lotus and gasped steadying breaths into her hands.

"Hey, it's okay." Katara sat down on her bed and went so far as to wrap an arm around Azula's
shoulders. Azula accepted the touch out of pure relief. It took her a few vulnerable minutes to
gather herself.

"What time is it?" she asked. Her voice sounded fragile to her own ears.

"Late. I went to the kitchen for a drink and I heard you crying. Are you okay?"

Azula nodded wordlessly. She rubbed her face vigorously, trying to erase the tightness of fear from
her skin.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

Azula spoke through her hands. "If you promise not to talk to me."

To her surprise, Katara didn't take offense. She laughed quietly instead and gave Azula a gentle
squeeze, prompting a flinch. Katara quickly released Azula, and her voice went quiet. "I promise I
won't talk to you."

A few minutes later, Azula enjoyed cool, wet sand rising between her toes. The warm surf swept
up around her ankles. She looked out to the black ocean and its small white breakers that managed
to produce such a heavy roar. The sound soothed the last of her fears away. What was left was
embarrassment…for being so scared of a little boy. And wonder that Katara had acted the way she
had.
Katara plopped down in the surf gracelessly. She didn't seem to care about the sand or salt that was
currently ruining her clothing. Katara looked up at her and patted the wet sand beside her in
invitation. Azula watched her for a moment before she sat down with her. Water rolled up against
her thighs, and she cupped it in her hand. Since her childhood she'd always found it odd that this
water could sit clear in her hand but become opaque when less than a meter deep.

Katara took her hand, replacing the water. She squeezed. Maybe that she didn't speak made it easier
to accept the touch.

Azula took a deep breath of the salty scent of the ocean and stretched out on her back, her fingers
threaded in Katara's. Sand swept up with the water, settling beneath the arch of her back and under
her arms. It was warm and comfortable. And safe with Katara sitting next to her.

"Hey."

Azula jerked out of her doze and looked around in shock.

"I didn't think I should let you drown." Katara still held her hand, and she gave it another squeeze.
"Come on."

Katara led her back to the house; Azula didn't protest. When she slept this time, she didn't dream.

Her mood was dramatically improved when she awoke that morning. She felt well-rested and had a
good morning workout, and she swam an extra kilometer to her usual circuit. She could almost be
something other than resigned about her three guests. Over lunch, Azula even found it in herself to
ask her parents about her brother. "Have Zuko and Mai set a date yet?"

"A date for what?" Katara interjected.

"Mai is still a little young yet for that station," Ursa answered Azula. Her tone suggested irritation.
Oh, did Ursa not approve of grumpy, tired Mai? Azula imagined the two of them fighting verbally,
and her vision ended with fire and sai. Life must be interesting at the royal palace now with those
two vying for Zuko's attention.

"To get married," Ursa continued, addressing Katara.

Katara lowered her utensils back to her plate. She looked incredulous. "Zuko and Mai are getting
married?!"

"Is that so shocking?" Ursa asked.

"No. It's more that… Well, they're both so…"

"Maudlin," Azula supplied dryly, sensing Katara was trying to be polite.

Katara shot her a surprised glance and said, "Well, yeah."

"I'm glad someone else thinks so. I was starting to question my own judgment since apparently
everyone thinks they belong together."

Of course Iroh would chime in with his own sage advice...with a long shared look with Ursa.
"Sometimes it takes someone you don't expect to bring out your best traits."

"If you take Mom's hand and you two smile at each other, I will vomit on you both," Azula
warned. She balked at the two bright smiles her words provoked. That was unexpected.
"So what, you think my opinion is actually worth something when I agree with you?" Katara asked
haughtily. Her blue eyes flashed in irritation, and she raised her chin to look down on Azula like
royalty.

For once Azula had not purposefully given insult. The pettiness—and prettiness—of that pose
warded off any irritation it might have caused in the first place. She really was in a good mood,
though she had to point out, "Opinions are rarely worth anything no matter who they come from."

"I'm the 'filthy peasant', remember?"

Azula raised an eyebrow, trying to sense where this conversation was headed. "I can't be judged for
the things I say in the heat of battle."

"Well, I am a peasant!"

Why was she getting angry about this? "If you insist. I was led to believe your father was the chief
of the Southern Water Tribe."

Katara looked at her like she was crazy. "I grew up in a sealskin tent with my grandmother and my
brother. My dad might be the chief, but I'm not royalty or anything."

"No?" She seemed proud of the fact.

"No more than you're a purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings." No doubt one of
her friends had relayed what had happened during the Black Sun. Katara had spoken sharply, like
she'd won the argument. Azula was still having trouble figuring out what exactly they were arguing
about.

Ursa glanced at Iroh. "What does that mean?" she asked him. He shook his head. "I have no idea."

Azula ignored them; she plunged ahead with the hope of provoking an argument about something
more concrete. She leaned back and flicked her fingers, adopting a casual tone. "You're just angry I
can outwit your little lie-detector."

"Toph kicked your ass."

"How petty. She managed to restrain me during the solar eclipse when I clearly wanted her to do
so. And your brother so willingly took the bait."

"That's not the way I hear it. Apparently you had a few Dai Li agents helping you out."

Azula cocked her head and offered a smile. "Having powerful servants demonstrates prowess.
Certainly I can't be blamed for making use of them."

"That's—"

"Cheating? Like launching an attack on the Fire Nation on the day when all firebending is
snuffed?"

Katara folded her arms and scowled. "I guess it hurts more that we did the same thing on the day of
Sozin's Comet and won."

"With several defected firebenders." Azula flicked her eyes to Iroh, but he didn't appear to take her
words as an insult. Instead, he said, "It had to be done, Azula."

This time she addressed him. "What had to be done? Forcing Ba Sing Se back under its flawed
trickledown policy and a halfwit king who consults his pet bear for advice on ruling the people? Or
possibly returning to power a megalomaniac madman who regularly brainwashed citizens that
mentioned the words 'fire' or 'war'? Or doing it all by killing Fire Nation soldiers and Earth
Kingdom civilians?"

Iroh frowned. "We have no place dictating what is best for other nations."

"I disagree. As the sovereign ruler of a nation, was I not supposed to protect everyone that I
could?"

"But think of the costs of changing that system, Azula!"

"I don't know if you remember, you buffoon, but I deposed the king and Long Feng in a full coup
without killing a single person."

Katara jumped on that. "You almost killed Aang!"

"Forgive me, Katara." Azula's tone was sharp with sarcasm. She was enjoying herself immensely.
"I was attempting to stop the Avatar from entering a state that killed hundreds of soldiers at the
North Pole."

"You hit him with lightning in the back!"

"What use is the all-powerful Avatar state if he isn't paying attention to his surroundings? I only
hoped to interrupt his meditation. What a happy coincidence that he was a floating glowing idiot."

Katara continued to glower. "Then why do it? What if he'd turned around and killed you?"

"Then I would have died honorably in combat."

Katara looked at Azula like she was beyond comprehension. She shook her head and offered no
more argument.

In the wake of their silence, Ursa cleared her throat and spoke with her teeth clenched. "Yes, well,
obviously someone failed to mention quite a few important details of the war, like you being the
person responsible for the fall of Ba Sing Se. Azula, you and I are going to have a chat about a few
of these exploits." She turned her accusing look on Iroh, who winced.

"Why should we talk about something that only makes you angry?"

Ursa's nostrils flared and her jaw clenched. Azula prepared herself for a berating, but Iroh put a
hand on Ursa's arm. "Why don't we all have another round of tea? We can talk about the play the
other night."

"Or the weather," Azula intoned dourly. Yet just like that, Ursa's temper had been warded off.

The ocean waves were higher than usual as a result of an early southern hurricane. The possibility
of the storm had hastened Ursa and Iroh's return to Capital Island. Heavier waves, undertow, some
wind, and rain would probably be all they saw from it, but it was still enough to make sea travel
unsafe. Ember Island itself was too far north to feel the effect of most of the bad weather that swept
through the Fire Nation seas.

The breeze coming from the ocean was hot, adding to the natural warmth of the setting sun.

"Well, that was fun."

Azula flicked her eyes to Katara, who sat down beside her. They watched the surf in silence for a
while.

"Your mother's a lot different than I imagined."

"I suppose Zuko waxed lyrical about his mommy."

Katara lowered her head onto her arms. "He talked about her. He said she hated you. And that she
was sweet and…gentle. He didn't say she had a bad temper."

Azula gave a soft laugh at that. Azula had always remembered Ursa's temper more keenly than she
remembered soft mothering; Zuko had gotten all of that gentle care. "Who do you think we got it
from? Zuko would say anything to justify his feelings. But it's true that she loves him more." The
truth of it wasn't as bitter as it had been in the past.

"At least she's here."

Azula wanted to snipe at that comment, but it stuck in her throat. It was true, after all. She darted a
quick look at Katara. The other girl sat with her face turned to Azula, but her eyes were on the
ocean. They were very blue that evening, contrasting with the wavy brown hair that cascaded over
her shoulders. She was pretty, framed in the golden sunlight like that.

"Was it a Fire Nation soldier?"

Katara nodded wordlessly.

"Do you know who?"

Another nod. Then she spoke. "Zuko took me to him. But I couldn't do it. Killing him wouldn't
have brought my mother back. And my mother wouldn't have wanted that. She died to protect me."

Azula had never entirely parroted her father's…Ozai's beliefs that other benders were a threat and
they had to be exterminated. Other benders were clearly only a threat if they weren't on her side.
The usefulness of the Dai Li certainly wasn't to be taken for granted, no matter how much Ozai had
sneered at her for bringing them with her to the Fire Nation. He'd called them her weakness.
Conveniently, her weakness had saved him from the Avatar during the eclipse.

And Katara…

"How old were you?"

"Eight. Her name was Kya." Katara's fingers traced the emblem on her necklace.

"Was she a waterbender?"

"No. She said she was…to protect me. That was why she was killed." Katara looked like she was
fighting tears. She lifted her head and glared at Azula. "Aren't you going to apologize?"

People did what they must, but perhaps what they must do wasn't right. It was one thing to consider
a possible error in thinking of her ancestors. It was another to apologize for them. "Why should I?"

"Don't you take any responsibility for what your family's done to this world?!"

"I've always done what I thought was best for my nation. I won't apologize for that." Azula didn't
know what made her continue, "But you needn't worry about the Fire Nation waging war on
another country. Zuko wouldn't allow it."
"But not you," Katara snapped in accusation.

"There would be no point," she said, a concession in itself.

Katara snatched at that admission. "Then you do think it was wrong."

"With the current state of affairs, extermination of benders—of whatever element—is foolish. And
as a country, we're practically bankrupt. There's no money for war and apparently no glory in
waging it anymore." Azula scooped some sand and dripped it over the air hole a tiny clam had
made in the wet sand. Five seconds passed before the air hole appeared again.

"Do you feel anything?" Katara's voice was tainted by disgust.

Azula glanced over at her in question.

"I keep thinking you've changed, and then you say something that's so…you. Do you do anything
just because it feels right? Or do you not do something because it feels wrong?"

An odd question. Emotions were unavoidable and gut instinct had its place on the battlefield. But
being a sovereign ruler of a nation meant one had to think about every decision, not just feel it.
Maybe Katara had never had to make a decision that would impact every person within a nation.
Iroh, the fool, would have made a horrible Fire Lord for all his moral dilemmas. Not that Ozai had
been any better. Not that she had been in the brief time the throne room was lit with blue flames.
She wondered who she'd inherited her failure from.

Azula dropped her head to her knees, mirroring Katara's posture. Her voice came from far away,
and her words were a surprise to herself. "Iroh is my father."

Katara jerked back as if slapped. "What?"

"Exactly." Azula gave a bitter laugh.

"But how do you know?! I mean, it makes no sense."

"Thankfully I wasn't conscious during the moment of my conception," Azula said sarcastically.
"But my mother is certain it was a moment shared with Iroh, not Ozai. It was such a wonderful
thing to hear: 'It's so good to see you again, sweetie. By the way, I had an affair with Iroh when
Ozai was away at war, and you're his bastard.'"

Katara leaned back slowly with her eyes glued to Azula. "I'm surprised you didn't kill both of
them."

"Contrary of your assumptions of me, my first instinct is not to kill my family members." She tried
to smile and twist the conversation away from her uncomfortable truth in pure self-defense.
"Discounting Zuko."

There was a long moment of silence. "He's your older brother," Katara finally mumbled, not
pressing. "I usually want to kill Sokka at least twice a week."

She would never have guessed that those words of support—of camaraderie—would comfort her
as much as they did. If she'd been able to speak past the thickness in her throat, she might have
thanked Katara. The compulsion passed.

"Does Ozai know?"

She swallowed before she could speak; she couldn't meet Katara's pitying gaze. "No. No doubt it
would just bolster his oh so high opinion of me."

"I guess he took you losing to Zuko and me pretty hard."

Azula scoffed bitterly. "He took having his bending ripped from his soul harder. Instead of an
honorable death in battle, my father is going to be a non-bending prisoner of the crown for the rest
of his life."

"Would you rather him be dead?"

She knew what Ozai felt like, even free as she was. "Sometimes I'd rather be dead."

Katara seemed to take particular offense to that. "Well, excuse me for thinking it'd be better for
you to have a second chance!"

"How magnanimous of you." She'd lost everything that mattered to her and she was supposed to be
thankful for not losing her life too? "You didn't end my life just so I can waste away on this island,
doing nothing, knowing I'm the daughter of a foolish old man. Is that a second chance?"

Pity was plain on Katara's face. "We're only kids."

"So I have this to look forward to for the rest of my life."

Katara actually laughed. "And I thought I was being a whiny kid."

If the laughter hadn't been enough to provoke Azula's anger, her words certainly had been. "Excuse
me?"

"You asked me why I'm here. Well, here's your answer: I'm here to take a break from Aang. He
asked me to marry him, and I don't even think I want to be with him anymore. So I'm here, feeling
sorry for myself because I don't feel the way I should about a guy who's perfect for me. We're
perfect company for each other." Katara rolled her eyes. "And we were criticizing Zuko and Mai."

And just like that, Azula was more confused than angry. "I'm not a lovesick fool."

"I'm not lovesick!" Katara proclaimed with a gasping laugh. She picked up a broken shell and
lobbed it at the ocean. "That's the problem." There was another moment of silence. "Have you ever
liked a boy?"

Azula's control was slipping; she wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream at the odd direction their
discussion had taken. "We're carrying on two different conversations."

"I guess that's a 'no'." Katara hesitated and traced her finger through the sand. Her next question
was shy. "Well, what about a girl?"

Laughter or a scream still wouldn't come; she was too startled. "What are you implying?"

"Well, Ty Lee is pretty clingy. My brother says she's been burning through the Kyoshi Warriors."

"Is that what she's doing?" Azula pictured Ty Lee as one person in a set of Kyoshi warriors. "All
her life, all she's wanted is to distinguish herself as an individual, and she joins the Kyoshi
Warriors."

"Well?"
"Well what?"

"Were you two girlfriends?"

"No," Azula replied dryly, watching a blue crab raise its claws to threaten a seagull. She tried to
imagine having sex with Ty Lee and couldn't get Ty Lee's phony smile out of her head. "She's been
having sexual relations with the Kyoshi Warrior troupe?" Good riddance. "Well, I'd never have
guessed that. She was always boy-crazy."

"She's still boy-crazy. Suki almost kicked her out because she tried to seduce my brother."

"I can't imagine why."

"Hey!" Then Katara grinned in concession. "Okay, I can't figure it out either. But apparently girls
really like Sokka." She pressed on. "You never liked anyone?"

"No one worth mentioning." Azula didn't know what fit of insanity made her say, "I tried before,
but I've never felt it."

"Well, maybe you will."

The firmness of the statement made it almost prophetic, enough to send a chill down Azula's spine.
She never wanted to experience the indignity that love seemed to bring out in people. She'd already
lost so much of herself she wasn't sure she had anything left to give.
 Between Earth and Moon
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Azula considered the Ember Island Player tickets in her hand. Then she considered the girl who'd
put them there. Though Katara had been less than enthusiastic about the last play they'd been
forced to attend, she seemed pleased by her purchase.

"Why exactly would we subject ourselves to this?"

"It's just us this time so we can make fun of them! It's the opening night of the new play so there's
got to be a lot of stupid mistakes."

What Katara didn't say—and what Azula guessed easily—was that she wanted to get out of the
house, and she wanted to take Azula with her. It was probably out of pity; no doubt Katara had
sensed her recent visit with Ozai hadn't gone well. Katara had been overt in her attempts to interact
with Azula recently, who put up with it for the sake of peace in her household. Or so she told
herself. In any case, their interactions had thawed considerably in recent weeks.

Azula rolled her eyes. "You're the only person I've met who's willingly stepped into torture
claiming 'it'll be fun'."

Katara's mouth stretched in a grin. "This is going to be awesome."

Several hours later, they met in the courtyard of the house to go to the theater. Azula experienced
an uncomfortable jolt when she realized Katara was wearing one of her robes. There was
something disconcerting about the embarrassment and pleasure it gave her that Katara could look
so pretty wearing her clothes.

Katara fingered the silk ties on her arms with a frown. "I don't know how you stand these things."
She untied her own sleeves, and the cuffs swept past her fingertips in the fashion of most
noblewomen.

"You and my mother should join a club." Azula held out her hands for the sleeve ties and slipped
them into her pocket. She lost enough of them to Ursa.

"Why do you wear them?"

"I'd rather my hands be free," Azula explained. She shook her arm to draw attention to the fact her
cuffs ended above her knuckles. "Firebending through the loose silk that happens to be attached to
your body is a recipe for disaster."

An old reason, an old excuse, yet it still fell naturally from her lips.

They were quiet in the carriage that took them into the city. Azula led Katara through the private
entrance of the theater reserved for the highest nobles. She refused to sit in the seats inscribed on
the tickets, and the theater employee took one look at her and scrambled to offer the royal box.
They settled soon after in a plush private box, much to the anger of the family that had reserved it
for the night.

"Did we just take their seats?" Katara asked in apparent dismay.

"I consider it a generous favor that they don't have to sit through this drivel."

Katara kept looking at her. Azula heaved a sigh. She didn't understand why this was a problem. "I
suppose I'll send reimbursement and a gift basket. Will that do to quiet your fluttering conscience?"

"Yes."

With that stupid problem solved, Azula flipped through the rice-paper pamphlet, detailing the
'actors' and the plot of the play. "A romance," she deadpanned. "About a Fire Nation noble in love
with his Water Tribe slave."

"What?!" Katara snatched the paper from her, her mouth open in incredulity. "No way! That's
outrageous."

"Apparently it's an outrageous classic. Quite fitting that you wanted to come to this one, don't you
think?" Azula cocked her head. "You don't suppose the lead actress was you for that play you
talked about?" She wasn't entirely sure Katara had been portrayed in The Boy in the Iceberg, but
Katara responded with a huff. "If she's fat and ugly, then yeah, it was her."

Azula didn't hide her smirk.

"Oh, shut up." Katara sat back in her seat with her arms folded, but her lips twitched into a faint
smile after a moment of feigned anger.

"Did I say something?"

"You were thinking it."

The curtain opened and the play began on the wrong note, literally; someone in the orchestra
apparently missed rehearsals. Azula and Katara watched as the two protagonists fell in love in one
contrived scene. "Oh, that's realistic," Azula muttered, watching the woman throw herself into the
noble's arms.

"It definitely takes more time than that! And a noble would never help his slave."

"She might swoon to earn a better position in the household."

"Not for that guy. What is up with all the long pointy beards of this country?"

"I can't fathom why men decide their facial hair is attractive."

"You never asked Ozai about his pointy beard?" Katara glanced over at her.

"Once. I accidentally set it on fire when we were sparring." She wasn't sure if her question or the
act itself had caused his rage. He'd beaten her so soundly she'd taken two days off of training to
recover. It was a lesson well learned: the beard was off-limits and disrespect was not tolerated.

Katara's laugh tapered off as she judged Azula's expression. "What did he do to you?"

"Spare me your pity." Azula's voice was sharp in warning.

Katara's soft expression didn't change, but at least she didn't say anything else. She tried to take
Azula's hand, but Azula wanted nothing to do with that. Katara sighed and turned her attention
back to the stage. After the first song shifted to a second, she leaned forward and gasped, "Ew!
What're they doing?!"
Azula watched the actors moving in a terribly mimed rut. She pulled herself out of her sulk to
answer. "Obviously they're in the act of consummating their five minute long relationship. I hope
for her sake that the consummation lasts longer than their relationship thus far."

Katara flushed in apparent embarrassment. "Why the heck is it in the play?"

"They aren't really having sex," she replied snidely. "You'd have to go down the street for that."

Now Katara looked disgusted. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Obvious not, as it's commercialized."

"What's wrong with this country?"

Azula tried to consider it from Katara's angle as she justified the practice. "Because it is legal, we
can protect our sex workers and gain a healthy tax from their business. You wouldn't believe how
much the bored noble class will pay for a prostitute. There's an entire district in the capital devoted
to pleasure houses. Muma District, if you're ever curious."

"You people are weird."

Azula took some offense to that statement. "I certainly don't employ them."

Katara's attention was firmly away from the play now; she faced Azula in their box. "Don't you
think it's immoral for women to sell their bodies?"

The thought had never occurred to her. "Men do too," she pointed out first. "Who am I to judge a
man or woman for making money in the service field? They hurt no one doing it. Even if it were
morally wrong, the government has nothing to do with that."

"Isn't that the point of the law?"

Because Katara's question was so honestly asked, Azula held back her automatic sneer and gave
her an honest answer in turn. This was a lesson drilled into her brain by tutors before she'd even
understood the concept of morality. Azula practically recited: "Laws exist to protect the rights of
citizens: to freedom, life, health, personal growth, et cetera, ad nauseam; not to chaperone their
morals."

Katara pondered that for a moment. Maybe such matters weren't part of the education of a Southern
Water Tribe citizen. In any case, a silly philosophical argument was better than the pity on Katara's
face a few minutes ago.

"You said the right to health, right? How is it healthy to be a prostitute?"

Azula considered what she could remember about the precautionary laws of prostitution, and their
conversation continued until intermission. Katara had never balked at arguing with Azula before,
and she didn't now. Azula wondered what the Ember Island Players would think about the fact that
they'd sparked a debate about the legality and commercialization of prostitution in the Fire Nation.

After intermission, the play once again reopened slightly off key. It matched the laughable scene
of the slave woman giving birth to the noble's child. The actress was trying to sing her pain out in a
screeching note that made Azula grind her teeth.

"Okay, no way," Katara said after the note petered out. Her gaze was riveted to the stage. "Have
any of these people actually delivered a baby?"
"Have you?"

Katara lifted her chin with the utmost dignity. "Five!"

Well, someone had to do it. Azula shuddered at the thought. She'd seen one komodo rhino live
birth, and that was enough to know she'd never want to see a human in the process. Much less be
said human.

At the end of the apparently inaccurate scene, the baby's head—it was a badly constructed doll—
popped off and rolled across the stage. The entire theater exploded into laughter. The actors did
their best as they continued to sing out their promise to create a good future for a beheaded doll.

"Are they being racist?"

"You're giving them too much credit," Azula pointed out. "It's probably more a matter of
incompetence."

"At least it's not a real baby."

"On that we agree."

When it came to the climactic fight between the noble and a generic Fire Lord, the Fire Lord
swung across the stage on rope with fluttering paper fire beneath his feet. The rope broke and sent
him tumbling offstage with a yelp. The noble gaped at the audience, inciting another round of
laughter. To punctuate that, the iceberg background fell with a massive crash.

The play was over at this point; there was no salvaging this situation. Azula made a private pact
that if the troupe ever went under financially she'd give them just enough funding to keep going.
No more than just enough or things like this wouldn't happen. This spectacular example of
incompetence should be rewarded appropriately.

After they left the theater, Katara pulled Azula away from their waiting carriage to wander down
the cobbled streets on foot instead. Katara said she wanted dinner, but why they couldn't just go
home to eat, Azula didn't know. Azula had never deigned to patronize a restaurant. This seemed
like a venture that would end with a stomach illness.

Katara laughed off her concerns. "They'll take one look at you and be too scared to do anything
wrong."

"Am I still that intimidating?" Azula asked.

"What do you mean still? Your intimidation is inherent."

Azula smirked, pleased enough by the compliment to ignore Katara's obvious attempt to mimic her
speech pattern. Katara ruined the effect when she mocked a shudder. "Just like that. Absolutely
terrifying."

They continued to wander the streets, Katara suggesting food and Azula vetoing it. She was
surprised that something this simple had turned out to be so pleasant. Azula realized she'd reached
a certain level of relaxation despite being in public. And then she was reminded why that was
never a good idea.

"There she is! There's that crazy bitch who trashed our house, Dad! I know that's her!"

It took a moment for Azula to realize the shout had been directed at her. "And that is why I avoid
going out in public," she informed Katara, who looked back at her owlishly.

Azula took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and adopted her royal face. She turned on one
heel and watched handsome, vapid Chan stride across the street. His finger was pointed at her in
accusation. On another day, she would have ordered it removed. Today, the abhorrent breach in
etiquette was hilarious as Chan's father, elder Chan, looked into her eyes and recognized her. The
Admiral's face went white in pure animal terror. He seized his son by the shoulders and yanked
them both down to the ground in the middle of the busy street, drawing curious stares.

"Honored Princess Azula!" Admiral Chan all but shouted. "My humblest and deepest apologies for
my son's words. He clearly is mistaken! We are forever in your debt and service!"

A cart jerked to a halt to avoid running over the two men. Several more pedestrians paused on their
walk to watch the scene unfold until a small crowd had formed.

Chan's entire body stiffened, and if anything, his head sank closer to the ground. She could almost
sense his imagination running through a list of horrible punishments she could legally enact to
right the wrong of his words and actions. Why had she ever thought this stupid boy was attractive?

Azula stepped close enough that her boots were in sight of the prostrate men. She looked down her
nose at them and smiled sharply purely for the watching crowd. "Admiral Chan, how are you? I
would expect a man as decorated as you to be out at sea, protecting our trade vessels from the
pirates that are determined to take a bite out of our export profits."

"Thank you for your kind words, Princess. I've recently retired from the navy."

"Probably for the best," Azula gave a wistful sigh. "Your soldiers did report you have terrible
communication skills." The Admiral's shoulders flinched. "Well, good day, Admiral. Chan, tell
your nana that I said hi."

Her thinly veiled threat hit home. Younger Chan whimpered.

She turned and swept by the watching nobles. They bowed almost in unison as she walked by.
Katara fell into step beside her a moment later. Azula prepared herself for Katara's chastisement
about being rude or whatever other pettiness she would latch onto. She was surprised when Katara
began to giggle. "Did you really trash that guy's house?"

"He insulted my brother and me."

"Overkill," Katara pronounced. "Did he not know who you were?"

"I don't have much occasion to mingle with people my own age. At the Royal Academy, I shared
classes with the older girls. After I graduated, I attended war meetings, not parties; hence the
Admiral recognized me but his son didn't."

Katara was silent, and Azula glanced over, expecting a sarcastic comment. Katara was giving her a
gentle look that shifted into a slow smile. She said, "I bet you'll get more party invitations now."
Her voice was soft, and she took Azula's hand just to give it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll see." Azula's reply lacked vigor. She was strangely shy...too much so to protest the touch.

One morning several weeks later, Azula searched through the growing vegetation that would one
day block the shore's view of her house. It was a hot day with humidity heavy in the air. She
looked forward to the cooling thunderstorm that was sure to sweep through in the evening.
There was something chirping in the woods. It had driven her to distraction that morning. She'd
awoken to it and hadn't been able to focus on her meditation because of the noise, and still it
continued. She searched now for the source to silence it. She suspected a booby had fallen from its
nest and was starving because its parents were too stupid to bring it food on the forest floor. The
cheeping sounded very close to her, and Azula turned to her right, drawing up a leaf of heavy
vegetation.

Instead of a booby, there cowered a tiny bearded kitten. It trembled and gave that loud chirping cry.
She reached out to pick it up and take it down to the sea to drown it—the greater mercy, certainly.
Then, in the circle of her arms, it sighed and snuggled against her body.

It was a pitiful worthless little creature covered in fleas and doubtless filled with worms. Yet
somehow Azula found herself carrying it up to the house.

Ozai had never allowed her a pet. He proclaimed they were too much trouble and a distraction. At
the time, she'd wanted to point out servants existed to ensure there would be no trouble or
distraction, but the argument was worthless when the only animal she'd wanted was a mongoose
dragon. He'd allowed her that because she'd broken it herself. If she could break a mongoose
dragon, surely she could deal with a stupid animal like this.

Her staff gaped at her before their self-preservation instincts kicked in and they busied themselves.
Then her capable bodyservant took control. Kota ordered the chef to warm milk and meat-meal and
sent for a veterinarian. Azula watched her servant mix the milk and meal together into a slop of
disgusting looking mush. The bearded cat fell on it and ate it with relish. It snorted like a piglamb
with each mouthful.

"It will need to be bathed," Azula mused. "And wormed."

"I'll see to it, Princess."

"No." Azula ignored Kota's evident surprise. "Bring me warm water and soap. I could hardly trust
anyone else to deal with this little beast."

Azula had lost her mind. She knew she had; her servants knew she had. It didn't help when Katara
wandered into the study to gape at her. No doubt she'd approve once she'd gotten over her shock.

"Is that a kitten?"

"No. It's a mongoose dragon hatchling."

Katara sat down next to her as Azula scruffed the little beast and rubbed soap into its fur, then
splashed water on it. A fat flea crawled onto the kitten's face to escape the water. Azula crushed it
between her fingers with relish.

As she bathed it, she explained, "Several hundred years ago these animals were considered evil in a
southern Earth Kingdom port city. They were hunted and killed to release their so-called evil
spirits. In the years that followed this frenzy, the majority of the citizens who lived at the port died
from sickness. It enabled the Fire Nation to capture the city, but it was pointless. No ship would
sail there anymore. Earth Kingdom citizens stupidly believed the die-off was evil spirits inhabiting
their people. In truth, without the cats to eat the vermin from the docking ships, the vermin plague
swept through the city. So, bearded cats are fairly useful creatures."

She looked up; Katara stared back at her expressionlessly. Her bright eyes drew Azula's notice.
"Interesting history lesson." Katara's tone suggested she felt the opposite. Azula shook herself from
the strange trance she'd fallen into when Katara continued, "Where did you get this fairly useful
bearded cat?"

Azula framed her sarcastic reply: 'Excuse me for informing your ignorance.' She wasn't sure why
she didn't say it. Instead, she told the truth: "It woke me up this morning, crying in the brush."

"And you're going to take care of it?"

"It's true, the greater mercy would be to drown the poor thing. But Mother's been complaining
about the lack of animals here. I might as well give her a mangy, wormy little beast to sleep in her
bed during her visits." Azula lifted the kitten by its scruff and considered it. It shivered and gave a
little cry with its tiny paws swinging at the air. It was shockingly ugly when wet.

Katara raised one eyebrow, clearly not buying Azula's excuse. Azula sighed and rolled her eyes as
she began to dry the mewling kitten in a thick towel. The beast was shivering rather dramatically
from the water. "Or pretend this is evidence that I have a soul if that makes you feel better."

Katara held out her hands. "Let me."

Azula handed the kitten over and watched as Katara bent the water from its fur. Almost
instantaneously, the kitten's fur puffed out. Katara cooed and smooched at it like an idiot.

Kota stepped into the room, and she brought with her a thin, scruffy man. "Princess, this is a
veterinarian, Koh Lee."

"Princess, it's an honor." He bowed twice and then remained bent at the waist appropriately as he
waited for her to acknowledge him.

Wordlessly, Azula took the kitten from Katara and handed it to the veterinarian. He straightened
for his examination. The man looked in its ears—"No mites"—checked its teeth—"Five weeks, a
little thin of blood"—pulled up its tail—"female"—listened to its heart—"sounds good"—and
rubbed its belly—"who's a pretty girl?". He set the kitten on the ground, and it staggered around a
little unsteadily.

Azula had already decided this man was a moron, but he gave her a more intelligent report. "She's
malnourished and probably has a heavy worm load. They seem to get them from nursing from their
mother, which is a good sign in this case. She's weaned at this age so solid foods are best—at least
four times a day until she gains weight. You don't need to worry about stimulating her voiding
behavior."

She must have looked as disgusted as she felt because the man paused and gave another bow. "As I
said, you needn't worry."

"Then why did you mention it?" she asked darkly.

He bowed again; a tremble had set in on his shoulders. Katara elbowed Azula sharply. She shot
Katara her harshest glare and turned back to the man. "Continue."

Still bowed, he set down his bag and withdrew a thick paste. He slathered a small amount on his
fingertip and rubbed it against the top of the kitten's mouth, invoking a few lip-curling licks.

After he left, Katara rounded on Azula. "Why were you so mean to him?"

"I'm a mean and horrible person," Azula replied dryly. She picked up the kitten, turned it over, and
rubbed a finger over its fat belly, provoking a few pitiful chirps of protest. "Naturally, since I'm a
monster."

Katara heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I'd take you more seriously if you didn't say that while you
were playing with a kitten."

"I'm not playing," Azula sniffed with utmost dignity. "I'm estimating how many worms are
parasitizing this animal."

"Uh huh."

There was no doubt that Katara could and would believe what she wanted. If she took it into her
head that Azula had a conscience, who was Azula to dissuade her?

That night, the kitten mewled from within the basket that Kota had set up for it in Azula's room.
Azula got up, angry that her sleep was interrupted. The kitten quieted when she picked it up, and
before she could think better of it, she carried it to her bed. Beneath the silk sheet, it stretched out
full-length against her body, heaved a sigh, and fell asleep.

Go figure. The thing was cold.

It took Ursa the entirety of breakfast the first morning of her visit before she noticed the kitten. It
currently rolled on the floor—its belly fat now from food, not worms—and batted at the cuff of
Azula's trousers.

"What in the world…"

Azula reached down, plucked up the bearded cat, and held it out to her mother. Ursa set down her
teacup and reached out to cradle its chest in her hands. The kitten's hind end hung towards the floor
awkwardly. She stared at the kitten like it was a figment of her imagination. "Do you have a cat
now?" she finally asked.

"Do you want it?"

Ursa blinked down at the cat. It reached out a clawed paw to bat at her hair. "When I suggested
you adopt an animal, I was thinking something more…clean. Like a dog."

"It's remarkably clean. It spends several hours a day licking itself, including its anus."

Ursa's lip curled in disgust. Azula barely managed to contain her laugh. Katara wandered out on the
veranda and butt in with her own opinion. "Hi, Lady Ursa. They're actually cleaner than dogs. And
she's just the cutest little kitten. Look at all her colors!"

Azula rolled her eyes. Ursa put the bearded cat down on the floor. It began to chirp as it pounced
on Azula's feet to lick her bare toe vigorously. Azula picked it up and settled it under her arm. The
little beast settled down and began to purr. "Would you like it to sleep on your bed tonight, Mom?"

Ursa's lips twitched again in distaste.

Katara rolled her eyes and gave an untimely diversion. "That would mean you'd give her up." She
turned to Ursa. "Azula hogs her all to herself."

"I cannot help that the animal innately understands what the superior bed in this household is."

"She loves you." Katara folded her arms and smiled softly. Azula hesitated and had to forge past
the shyness Katara's expression stirred in her. She said, "It's a beast. It has no concept of love. It
simply knows that I provide food and shelter."

"She loves you, and you eat it up." The look was more pointed now.

"I suppose I could eat it," Azula replied, giving the kitten a judging glance.

Katara rolled her eyes with that affectionate smile still on her face. The expression made Azula's
stomach flip in a not entirely unpleasant way. When she turned back to her mother, Ursa's smile
surprised her. She said, "I'm glad you two have become friends."

Katara didn't seem as surprised as Azula had expected. Instead, she met Azula's gaze evenly. Azula
looked back at her, unable to formulate an expression that was appropriate. A friend? Katara
frightened her too much to be a friend. She had no reason to be with Azula except by her own
whims. If she couldn't demand Katara to remain here, how could she keep her close?

Only a few hours later, Ursa managed to repay Azula for the scene that morning. She hovered in
front of Azula's desk until Azula looked up. Ursa handed her several leaves from a book. "I'm
concerned," she pronounced. "I learned last week that your lessons never included music, despite
your assurances to me that the opposite was true."

In Ursa-speak, it meant, 'You lied to me.' Azula set down her book and picked up Ursa's papers,
which were music sheets. She recognized the music as a woman's range of the Fire Nation
Anthem. She could sing this in her sleep. "I didn't lie. I know how to read music. I also know how
to sing. These things, however, will not help win a war."

"Music is a key part of a young woman's educational curriculum."

Her teeth ached from the force of her jaw clenching. She'd gone out of her way as a student at the
Royal Academy to avoid as many useless music classes as possible. Once she'd graduated, she had
thought that would be the end of it forever. "What do you want me to do with this, Mother?"

Ursa folded her arms. "Practice."

She could argue; she could refuse. And then Ursa would nag at her for the entire visit. Azula
exhaled tightly. She stood up, held the leaves in one hand, and pressed her other hand to her
diaphragm. She inhaled sharply with her diaphragm as she'd been trained. She warmed up with a
scale and immediately began the anthem. As if any firebender couldn't sing. As if the Princess of
the Fire Nation hadn't been trained to death to sing the Fire Nation Anthem.

After the last note, she looked up from the music and asked, "Will that suffice?"

Ursa's eyes were wet with tears, and Katara was partly in the doorframe, watching Azula with wide
eyes. She was spooked by their reactions. "What?"

"Your voice… You have my mother's voice," Ursa whispered.

Azula's maternal grandmother had died before she was born. She had no emotional connection to
the woman, but if she didn't say something soon, Ursa was going to break down. She went with
something that might provoke anger. "Aren't we all thankful I didn't take after Iroh then?"

Iroh, who had been loitering the hallway, stepped into the room just to say, "I resent that!" He was
smiling.

Ursa's apparent emotional crisis passed. She wiped her eyes and asked, "What instruments do you
play?"

Azula slapped the papers against her leg irritably. She thought of a thousand other more interesting
things she could be doing right then—which would be anything. Royal lessons had included
learning an instrument, but she'd played around on a pipa purely because it was unladylike. Maybe
the 'masculine' instrument would be a good diversion. "I learned on a pipa."

Ursa's eyes flashed. To Azula's shock, she gave no statement towards the type of instrument and
said, "I'll have one delivered immediately."

Well, that was a miscalculation on her part. "No."

"It'll be fun." Katara had interjected before Ursa's thunderous expression could become sharp
words. After Katara's pronouncement, Ursa's expression softened. She nodded in agreement. "Yes,
fun. Sweetie, music would be a lovely addition to the household."

"If I wanted music, I would hire a musician," Azula pointed out. "There is no reason to do so
myself."

"Music stimulates the mind," Iroh chimed in.

It nearly stimulated Azula's middle finger, but she didn't dare even imagine her mother's reaction to
that rude gesture. "I'm going to mediate." She stepped off the study's veranda and dropped into the
sand for a timely escape, at least for a few hours. It wasn't much of an escape. Iroh settled down
next to her, and she shared her meditation and exercises with him. At least he didn't make her sing.

Ursa had the instrument delivered that afternoon, and the household seemed to think it was an
excuse for a gathering. Azula was herded onto the settee in the study and handed the pipa. She
glowered at the three people who sat across from her. She had no doubt there were servants
listening in the hallway as well.

"Go on," Ursa commanded.

Perhaps she could make this worth her while, given her audience. The best defense she had against
these silly trials with the arts was being so bad Ursa gave up on her. Azula strummed the opening
cords of an old folk song, and Ursa smiled in response. "Oh, The Earthbending Man. I like this
one."

Maybe she liked the original. Azula was going to perform the ribald version that was a particular
favorite of Fire Nation soldiers.

"Gather 'round and hear my story

About an Earth Kingdom tory.
He was a man of greatness and glory
Who made any woman whorey!"

Ursa's smile fell away as Iroh's widened. Katara's eyebrows climbed her forehead. Iroh apparently
knew this one, and he began to laugh.

"The girls of all nations did flock

To fondle his glorious rocks
And sit on his massive thick co—"

"Stop!" Ursa cried. "Stop, please."

Azula adopted an innocent tone. "But, Mom, there are four more verses."

Ursa's glare was sharp, but she turned it on Iroh, who was roaring with laughter at this point. "You
aren't helping!" She turned her anger back to Azula. "I know what you're doing, missy, and I don't
appreciate it."

Iroh wiped tears from his eyes and cleared his throat. "Ursa, perhaps it's time to concede defeat
about this matter."

Still chuckling, he patted Ursa's shoulder and reached out for the pipa. Azula counted this a victory
and gratefully gave it up. The rest of the day, he monopolized it. He plucked strings and strummed
cords into silly little songs. They were pleasant, not that she would ever admit it. At least she didn't
have to waste her time providing the musical entertainment.

After dinner, Azula finally glimpsed escape and walked down to the ocean in the soft grayness of
coming night. Footsteps hissed behind her. The entire day she had not had a moment to herself, and
now this…

"What do you want now?"

"I'm going for a walk."

Azula was surprised by Katara's voice. She'd expected Iroh or Ursa. "I didn't ask you to join me."

"I'm not joining you," Katara said, belying the fact that she now walked alongside Azula. On that
very same breath, she continued, "It's a nice night. Iroh's playing is pretty. A lot prettier than your
song turned out to be."

"It was a nice night, or it would be if you weren't here. Subjunctive is the correct tense, as the
niceness of this night is hypothetical and no longer reality."

"You're such a dork."

Azula drew up short, as stunned by the insult as Katara's laughing tone. "What did you call me?"

Katara grinned at her. She had a nice set of straight white teeth, and she used them to full effect
with that wide smile. She giggled. Katara was giggling at her. Azula took a steadying breath and
clenched and unclenched her fists. What had happened to the fear that she used to measure in this
girl's eyes? Had she lost whatever respect she'd held by being dangerous? Azula tried to ignore the
part of her that was so pleased to provoke this response.

"You have a nice singing voice."

"Dear Agni," Azula whispered under her breath.

"I mean it. It's…rich," Katara said. She took a few quick strides to catch up to Azula, who
attempted in vain to outpace her. "Do you like to dance?"

Dancing, as the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation? Commoners danced because they knew nothing
better. Nobles of other countries danced because they had no dignity. "Have you lost your mind,
waterbender?"

"My name is Katara," she said.

Azula stopped so that the full effect of her eyes rolling was not lost. "No, I had forgotten it in the
few hours I haven't spoken it. And here I thought it was clear I didn't use it to provoke your anger."

"And distract me from my question. Which didn't work. Do you like to dance?"

"I have never danced, nor will I. It is unbefitting for a person of my station to do something so…
undignified."

"I think you'd like it. It's just like fighting." Katara moved slowly, her feet shuffling to the gentle
twang of Iroh's pipa.

Azula folded her arms. "You look ridiculous."

Abruptly, Katara lurched forward, and Azula instinctively twisted sideways to avoid the hit. Katara
didn't follow through; she attacked with another slow, simple maneuver, and Azula shifted away.
Once, twice, three times, and suddenly she felt the flow and shift of it, in time with Iroh's steady
pipa notes.

Azula stepped into the next movement, sliding into an attack as Katara shifted back to start her
own, and it was suddenly graceful and strong, and as interesting as sparring. The point now was
novel: not to touch or parry but to mirror and compliment. It was like spontaneous katas.

What use did she have for dignity anyway? She'd thrown it away the day she bowed to Iroh.

Katara reached out and caught her hands, and their movements connected until Katara stepped into
Azula and their ankles tangled. They fell in an undignified heap in the sand. Azula was highly
cognizant of the fact that this was as close to an embrace as they'd come in weeks; it was a peculiar
feeling.

Katara's face was a silhouette against the night sky, lit slightly on one side by the lamps set out on
the house's veranda. She'd worn her hair down that day, and some of it brushed across Azula's face,
bringing with it an earthy fragrance she'd begun to recognize as Katara's. Azula's hand moved of its
own accord, and she touched Katara's face. Their skin met in sharp contrast even in this light.
Katara's cheek was soft and warm under her fingers.

Azula looked into Katara's eyes, and Katara looked back at her.

It was a fragile moment.

Katara's smile softened dramatically and her eyes flickered from Azula's eyes to her mouth. "I don't
think I've seen you smile like that before."

Azula quickly pulled her hand back and schooled her expression. She couldn't imagine what sort of
emotion she'd betrayed. She didn't like what she felt in that moment: vulnerable. Her voice's
normality surprised her after such an intense moment. "That's because you often annoy me."

Something about the set of Katara's mouth betrayed disappointment though she was still smiling.
"So I don't annoy you all the time, huh?"

"Take advantage of my generous mood, Katara." She sat up and shook some sand out of her hair in
sudden irritation. She felt like she'd missed some subtle cue in the last few moments.

"I like you."

That pronouncement was enough to draw a startled glance from Azula.

"I never expected that I could like you, but I do." Katara stood up, brushed off her trousers, and
held out her hand to Azula.

Azula only hesitated a moment before she reached up and accepted Katara's hand. She was once
again struck with uncharacteristic shyness. This seemed like the time to return the sentiment or…
just something. But she couldn't form any words.

What would she say? 'You caused everything to go so wrong in my life, but somehow you're the one
thing that seems to be going right for me now.' She couldn't say that. She just couldn't.

Katara squeezed her hand, and Azula realized maybe Katara didn't need the words at all.

Time seemed to move more quickly with a housemate. Before Azula realized it, Katara would be
living with her to see four full moons pass over Ember Island in a few nights. She'd found some
sort of happiness despite her ennui, and Azula wasn't self-delusional enough to pretend Katara
hadn't in part caused it. Who would have thought?

Of course they still argued. Of course Katara still thought she was 'rude' and 'mean' and didn't mind
pointing it out. But in equal parts Katara seemed to enjoy their interactions. Azula enjoyed the
arguments and being called petty names as much as she liked when they got along, something
she'd never expected. It scared her and excited her in equal parts, and she tried hard not to think
about why.

She knew that Katara would leave at some point, but nothing prevented her from enjoying her
company while she was there. Azula stretched in the sun and wondered vaguely how she could
convince Katara to stay a little longer.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Katara's shadow blocked Azula's sunlight momentarily. Then she
shook out her towel and lay down next to Azula, briefly startling the bearded cat lying against her
side.

"Are you ever going to name the cat?"

It was a horribly obnoxious beast now that it had recovered from its weaknesses. It was fat,
energetic, and followed Azula everywhere. At night, it slept on her bed no matter what pains she
took to keep it off. Her majordomo probably had already suffered a nervous breakdown trying to
keep cat hair off of the furniture. The worst insult though was that it had a fixation on licking her
toes. Even now, lying on the beach, she'd had to keep it from settling on her for a nap. Instead of
wandering off, it stretched out against her side and blinked lazily up towards her.

"It's an animal. Why name it?"

"I bet you named your ugly, scary mongoose dragon."

"How else would we keep track of their breeding lines?" Azula asked. She rolled the bearded cat
over and tickled its belly. She wondered if Katara knew the name of her mount in the royal stables
in Capital City, likely fertilizing quite a few clutches and bringing coin to her coffers. She hoped
not; a twelve year old had no business naming a prestigious mount with a lifespan of thirty years.

Katara rescued the growling kitten and snuggled it to her chest. She kissed its head, and Azula
couldn't temper her laugh as she watched its inquisitive head poke out from under Katara's chin. It
looked like its pride had been stepped on...at least until its gaze focused on Katara's hair loop. Soon
after, the little beast was dropped to the sand.
"What about tonk-kara?" Katara asked darkly as she finger-combed the hair that had been pulled
loose from her loop by kitten claws.

Tonk-kara, little devil. Azula liked it. "Rather fitting. I would have thought you'd prefer a cuter
name." When her words garnered no verbal response, she glanced over to see Katara gaping at her.
"What?"

"You know what that means?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You know the old Water Tribe language? Some Water Tribe people don't even know it."

Azula raised her eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I?" She reiterated, "I am Princess; my lessons included
all the significant languages of the peoples of this world. Of course everyone knows the universal
language now, but it wouldn't do for me to be unable to understand the old languages of each
country." She left out that her education was to ensure she would understand any war
communications sent in the old languages.

Katara cocked her head; her expression softened into a smile. "I learn something new about you
every day."

"I am a deep and interesting person," Azula muttered, lying back down. The cat pounced on her
foot, and she pushed it away gently. Katara giggled and mirrored Azula. They enjoyed the sunlight
in silence. Finally, Azula said, "It's been four months."

"Shooing me off?" Katara asked her lightly. From the sound of her groan and sigh, she'd just
stretched.

Azula didn't like to talk about the Avatar. Katara still obviously cared about him, as disgusting as it
was. The thought of them together… It was hard to reconcile someone she'd come to respect…and
like, with someone she had no respect for. Her heart began to beat harder as she asked the question
that had gnawed at her for several weeks. "How long is this break you plan to take from the
Avatar?"

"Probably permanent."

Azula opened her eyes, blinking past the shining brightness of the sun. She sat up slowly. "You
don't love him?"

"I do, but it's not…romantic." Katara winced. "I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse. What
do you think I should do?"

Azula's mouth opened and closed soundlessly before she managed a reply. "You're asking me for
advice on what to do with your boyfriend who is the Avatar and did the most despicable thing that
can be done to any bender to my father?" Not her father, damn it. And someone who coveted
Katara's time… If Katara returned to the Avatar, she would no longer be here with Azula. That was
completely unacceptable.

"First of all, he's not my boyfriend anymore. And yes, I am asking you."

Azula lowered herself back onto her towel, closing her eyes and watching the shifting redness of
her eyelids. She told herself that her next words were from truth and not selfishness. "Tell him the
truth."
"If I like someone else, what should I do?"

Who? Why did that make her so angry to think of? "Try it out."

"You really think so?"

"How else can you be sure the Avatar isn't right for you? If you can find what you couldn't with
him with someone else, then you know."

Katara shifted, and Azula opened her eyes to see her hugging her knees. "I have a little more
respect for Aang now. It's scary thinking about telling someone you like them. He did it several
times."

"Desperation shouldn't be confused with bravery."

Katara hit Azula's arm, but her smile was soft. "I guess if I'm desperate, I'll know it's serious." She
laughed and spoke almost to herself. "I guess it's not a big surprise. I've always been attracted to the
broody tortured types."

Azula wanted to ask 'who' but the words died in her throat. She didn't want to know, didn't want to
think of what she might do if she knew. She hoped… She hoped despite herself. Azula nearly
betrayed herself when she blurted, "What you must think of me."

"What do you mean?" Katara was obviously surprised by her words.

Of all the things she could say then, the only words Azula needed were: "You've seen me at my
worst."

"Your worst? Azula, you're only human. As it turns out, I like Azula the human a lot better than
Azula the Princess."

Azula understood her meaning despite herself, and Katara's words eased some of the heaviness in
her shoulders. Katara met and held her gaze. There was a long pregnant moment shared between
them. She hesitated, then smiled and stood up. "Lunch sounds good. You coming?"

Azula hadn't planned on it, but it was hard to refuse Katara's outstretched hand.

A few days later, Azula walked down to the beach in the late evening. As she'd predicted, Katara
was already there. She forged past her own irritating shyness and asked, "What is it about the full
moon?"

Katara turned from her dance with her element. Her silk robe was wet, and her hair was damp. She
looked sleek and powerful in the moonlight. Azula stared for a moment. In this light, Katara was
sensual too.

"I feel it more, the water." Katara laughed almost wildly. "I feel it in you too."

A shiver skittered down her spine; Azula was caught off guard by her own sudden intimidation.
She spoke before she could think better of it. "I'm here."

Katara smiled, and the salt water rained down on them both as she released it from her hold. "Yes,
you are. Come with me." She reached out and took Azula's hand, and she pulled Azula into the sea.

Azula had once swum at night when she was little, and she'd been scared by the visibly endless
inky blackness of the waves that crested silently over her head. It was blindness and utter loss of
 control. She was uneasy now even with Katara's strong hand anchoring her.

They staggered against the breakers and finally pushed into the calm rolls of the ocean. Katara was
only a black silhouette against the reflection of the moon. She raised her hand and pointed out to
sea. Azula looked past her own fear.

As they were swept up to the peak of one big roller, she saw something beautiful: a wide bright
pathway across the waves towards the full moon. Its perfection was only marred by the fluidity of
its borders, ripples that lent it a pattern of liquid silver.

Katara's grip on her hand tightened, and they were buoyed up to the surface to stand on the water.
It was chilly on her feet as it solidified, but Katara swept the water out of their shoes before they
could freeze to her path of ice. They walked together along that path of moonlight. Their heavy
silence was only broken by the gentle crackling of the ice bridge Katara extended beneath their
feet.

Katara squeezed her hand. "Do you think we'll ever reach it?"

Azula thought of an old parable about a man trying to touch the sun and surprised herself by
laughing. "Even if a man flies as high as the dragon, he'll never reach the sun. But it's a worthy
venture."

"Why?"

Azula pondered it. "To mark each step towards infinity."

Katara cocked her head, watching Azula. Her eyes were bright in the moonlight. The shadow of her
mouth curved into a smile. She was beautiful. "You really are a gentle spirit."

Azula couldn't scoff in denial or form a snide reply. She couldn't do anything but stand there and
shiver in anticipation as Katara cupped her cheek and kissed her. Katara's lips were full, her breath
sweet, and Azula's mouth tingled from just the soft touch. She was startled by her own gasp.

Katara drew back. "How close have you been?"

"What?" Azula asked, her mind foggy. She couldn't quite believe it. She hadn't dared to hope for
this, and it had happened anyway. Katara had chosen her.

"How close have you been?"

The laugh that bubbled up from her belly was almost wild with happiness. "Kiss me again and I'll
tell you."

Katara did just that.

Chapter End Notes

This is the last chapter of book 1, with a short epilogue to follow.

 Epilogue: One Step Closer

Ursa found out. That was the obvious course of events when Katara seemed to like nothing better
than to fall on Azula on the beach and kiss her stupid in full view of the few neighbors she had.

Stupid was the word. Azula's awareness of her surroundings went to nothing, focused on Katara's
mouth and her body in those situations. She'd read about sex and understood the definition of
pleasure, but nothing had prepared her for finding out the truth. She'd been in her own body all her
life, but Katara could make it disobey her. Azula's hips would move; her hands would clench; and
her mouth would allow noises and even words she'd never betrayed before.

She would have been afraid if she were the only one affected, but Katara had already proven she
felt it too. Even that first night, shy kisses had caused Katara to lapse in her waterbending
concentration, and they'd both been spilled into the ocean after the ice bridge melted and cracked.
Azula had been angry; Katara had laughed in delight and drawn her in for more kisses.

That had been about a month ago. Tonight would be a good night, she was sure. It had better be,
after Azula dealt with Ursa's quiet disapproval for several days. Iroh might have been a respite to
Ursa's simmering mood, but he hadn't come with her this time. It felt like a set up.

When they'd finally had the conversation Azula avoided the entire visit, her mother's voice was
quiet and her expression sober. It was disconcerting to see Ursa not angry so much as disappointed.
"She's a waterbender," Ursa pointed out so gravely. "Think of your reputation."

"You were so happy we'd become friends," Azula had reminded her mother. "I'm seventeen and
already I have no reputation to speak of after my conduct during Sozin's Comet. Even if that
weren't the case, why should I care about noble rumors? I'm sure they've been chattering about
Katara sharing my home for almost half a year." Katara was worth more than all of them
combined.

"Before it wasn't the truth."

"I don't care what they think, and I never have. I never will."

Ursa's jaw tightened. "I worry about you fixating on one person. Are you sure you can trust her
with your heart?"

"Katara isn't up for discussion."

Whatever Ursa had heard in her tone had dissuaded her from continuing her protests. She'd soon
after packed up and returned to Capital City. The Ember Island estate was their own after almost a
week of avoiding touches and kisses, and Katara looked at her now with dark hunger.

Azula was surprised to feel fear as she let Katara push her onto her bed.

Of course Azula knew about sex. She'd seen komodo rhinos rut before. She'd watched mongoose
dragons mate. She'd read about sex both as clinical descriptions in medical texts and lewd
illustrated scrolls that described different sexual positions. It had been nothing but curiosity that
had caused her reading. Yet she'd learned a thousand times more about her body with Katara so far
than she'd gleaned from all those books and scrolls combined.

Katara broke their kiss to shut and lock her bedroom door. Azula wasn't sure why; the servants
knew better than to interrupt. They weren't suicidal.
The bed smelled like Katara, and Azula relaxed for the moment as she enjoyed that. When Katara
came back, she pushed Azula firmly into the pillows and straddled her. She tried to pull off Azula's
tunic, but it was caught on her sleeve ties.

After a minute of frustrating fumbling, Katara said, "I can't get them off."

Azula couldn't stop her nervous laughter. "How hard can it be? They're just square knots."

Katara snapped the silk.

She nearly said Katara was worse than her mother and managed to hold those awkward words
back. "I've heard about bodice rippers before, but I never—"

Katara interrupted her. "Shut up, Azula. I want to see your breasts."

That silenced all of Azula's protests. Katara pushed her tunic from her shoulders and unclasped her
breast support with a little help, leaving Azula naked from the waist up. She was vulnerable in this
position, but Katara took that fear away when she looked her fill and whispered, "You're so
beautiful." Azula heard those words all her life, but they were very different from Katara.

"You too," Azula said. Her voice had less demand than she liked. "I want to see you too."

Katara nodded and got off the bed to shuck her clothes. Azula pushed her trousers and
undergarment off as well. Before Azula could get a good look at Katara, Katara clambered onto
her and practically smothered her with a heady kiss.

It was deep, wet, and so much. Katara's hands fell to Azula's breasts, and she cried out, shocked by
how full and tender they felt. Katara's touch almost hurt her, but it was too good to be pain. Her
hips thrashed on the bed; she was wet and hollow and desperate. Was this pleasure? It felt more
like pure need.

Katara kept kissing her, even as she pressed her palm where Azula needed it. Azula thrust her hips,
and Katara squeezed, and they were out of synch, but it didn't matter. Azula's legs thrashed, and
she bucked as her body wrung itself out. This was pleasure, she realized.

The pressure of Katara's hand was too much, suddenly. She sank back into the bed and moaned in
protest when Katara kept touching her. "I can't; Katara, I can't, I…"

Katara's finger slipped inside her, and Katara made a muted noise of pleasure. Her mouth was on
Azula's again, and Azula suddenly could. Whether it was the peculiar sensation of Katara sliding in
and out of her so gently or Katara's evident enjoyment, she could a second time. She'd had no idea,
none, and oh… Azula cried out as a second orgasm ripped through her.

Katara's eyes were wide. She whispered fiercely, "I felt that."

Azula was gasping like she'd just fought an Agni Kai and couldn't manage a response in words.
She looked at this girl—her lover—and thought of all those texts she'd perused. She might as well
put her scholarly curiosity to good use.

Katara yielded to her back with no protest. Azula sat back to study her for the first time in detail.
She was beautiful, softer in body than Azula, who was more muscle than anything. Azula ran her
hand between Katara's breasts and palmed the transition between tight abdominal muscle and the
soft curve of her lower belly. Azula studied where her pale hand contrasted with dark, warm skin.
This was the perfect embodiment of Katara: hard muscle and soft flesh meeting to create something
beautiful.
"Azula," Katara whispered.

Azula went lightheaded at the pleading note in Katara's voice. She was powerless to do anything
but obey that whisper. Azula bent her head to kiss one of Katara's breasts.

Katara jolted beneath her with a muted cry.

Azula gave the other breast attention until Katara was gasping to the rhythm of her tongue. It was a
heady power, and she knew exactly what she wanted now. She pulled back on the bed and pushed
Katara's thighs apart to look at her.

All the sketches and diagrams Azula had seen were so clinical. Katara was not. She was wet; she
smelled of musk; she was very beautiful.

Azula lowered her head to take a taste.

"What are you—oh, wow," Katara gasped, her fingers tightening in Azula's hair almost painfully.
Katara lifted her head from the pillows then dropped it back with a groan.

Her pubic bone knocked Azula's nose hard enough to warrant attention. She dropped an arm over
Katara's belly and held her down to avoid a broken nose. Then she returned her attention to
Katara's pleasure, exploring her taste and texture. Azula hadn't expected to feel such pleasure doing
this. She'd so stupidly assumed it was only give and take.

Azula had no idea what she was doing, but that didn't seem to matter, not when Katara grabbed
hold of her head, overpowered her arm, and ground down against Azula's mouth. Katara's hips
jerked, and she gasped harshly.

"Too much!" Abruptly Katara shoved Azula's face away. She wasn't gentle.

Azula didn't know why she was surprised that Katara was a little rough when it came to this. On
the contrary, it fit Katara perfectly to know what she wanted and not be ashamed of taking it. Azula
was smug that she'd coaxed such a response. She darted back for another long kiss to Katara's sex,
garnering a gasp and shiver.

Azula pushed herself up the bed to lie down beside Katara. Katara pulled her close and kissed her
in a wet, sloppy way that made Azula shiver. Katara paused in consideration. "Is that what I taste
like?"

"Mmhm." Azula heaved a pleased sigh, too happy to hide her satisfaction.

"How did you know to do that?"

"I read about it."

For some reason, the words triggered laughter. After a moment, Katara sobered. She touched
Azula's cheek and shook her head in wonder. "I had no idea it could be like that. You are so full of
surprises."

Had Katara slept with the Avatar? It wouldn't entirely surprise Azula. If so, she was pleased at the
thought that she was apparently much better in bed. It was to be expected, certainly. But still… She
felt like she needed to make sure.

"You felt good then?" Her question was more vulnerable than she'd meant it to be.
Katara nodded just as shyly. "Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

She did, feeling as vulnerable as she did now. Somehow she'd given a bit of herself away tonight.
She didn't want to be alone.

They dressed shyly and settled back onto Katara's bed. Katara quickly dropped off to sleep. Azula
studied her features until her own eyes grew heavy. She'd thought sleeping next to someone else
would be a bother, but the quiet sounds of sleep Katara made—shifting her head, smacking her
lips, giving a little sigh—soothed Azula to sleep.

She awoke sometime before dawn, hot and uncomfortable. Katara had wrapped around her body
like a vine, and there was a bearded cat asleep on her belly.

It was sort of a family, wasn't it?

She traced her fingers through Tonkara's fur and gently ran her touch over Katara's hand.

Maybe this was just another step in her life. Azula vowed right then that she wanted to take many
more, specifically with Katara. She would play for keeps. Katara was worth that. Katara would be
leaving in a few weeks to return to the Southern Water Tribe, and Azula would figure out a way to
make her want to come back to her again.
 Into a nest of fools
Chapter Summary

-5 years later-

Book 2 summary: Azula is called back to Capital City for a plot against the throne and
must juggle obligations to her nation, her family, and her lover. Choosing one may
mean losing another. Onwards to plot!

"Princess, forgive me."

Azula lifted her head off of her pillow, snapping awake sharply. She focused momentarily on the
bearded cat that lay on the coverlet next to her. Tonkara stretched and trilled as she wrapped two
paws around her eyes in response to the intrusion. Kota, her bodyservant, stood next to her bed, a
dark silhouette against the light of the hallway. As Azula sat up, she noted Kota was in her sleeping
robe as well.

"Is there an emergency?" she asked sharply.

Kota held out a scroll. "It may be, Princess. This was delivered by a hooded man. He had the looks
of being a servant of an affluent family."

The wax was black, marked with a generic seal of the Fire Nation war: a snarling dragon head. It
was rather melodramatic; she'd never actually seen black wax used in anything but tawdry drama
plays. Most people up to no good knew better than to mark their messages with the color that
designated subterfuge. Azula stared at it for a moment as she tried to guess what this could be
about; a joke perhaps? She broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.

"Light," she said.

Kota didn't bother to light a lamp. She bent fire, producing a steady bright flame that flickered only
slightly from the soft draft that blew through the drapes.

Most Prodigious and Rightful Firelord:

We of a private order wish to restore you to your rightful place on the throne of the Firenation. The
current and undeserving man who sits on your throne must be deposed. We are willing to meet and
discuss a plan to enact for these measures in the Firenation Capital. Arrange a visit to the Capital,
and we will send further messages to communicate the time and place.

It was unsigned.

She was awake. Azula handed the strip of paper to Kota. "Read it and carry it. No one else is to see
these words. Prepare the household for my departure tomorrow morning."

"To Capital Island?"

It was a subtle question: to the usurpers or to the Fire Lord? Her first instinct was usually the right
one, and in this case there was no question where her loyalties lay now. Her answer was, "To the
Royal Palace."

Kota's fire winked out in an instant, leaving only blackness behind. As Azula's eyes adjusted to the
silver moonlight softened by the drapes, Kota bowed. "Yes, Princess."

The bearded cat rolled over and stretched before she curled up and nestled in the crook of Azula's
body. Tonkara's deep purrs soothed Azula's rising emotions, but it was a long time spent listening
to the soft roar of the ocean before she managed to fall asleep.

As her carriage rolled down the switchbacks into the capital, the citizens of the city began lighting
lanterns to ward of the darkness of night. It made for a pretty sight, a speckled tapestry of light in
the darkness that reflected the starry sky. Azula parted the drapes of the carriage to watch the city
come alive. Beside her, Kota sighed at the sight.

"Do you miss living here?"

"Are you asking me, Princess?"

Azula lifted her eyebrows, irritated by such a useless question. "Do you see anyone else around that
I could be talking to?"

Kota lowered her head. "My parents live here; I grew up here."

Azula's eyes tracked the line of streets; her mind was only half engaged. "Do you see them often?"

"There's rarely time. But they understand the importance of my work, and they're busy with their
own jobs. We correspond regularly."

"Arrange a day for one of the juniors to serve me."

Kota stilled; her breath caught. Azula glanced over, realizing what her servant had assumed. "Don't
be an idiot. You're competent, and I don't plan to replace you. Take the time to visit your family."

Kota lowered her head, this time in gratefulness. "Thank you, Princess."

She flicked her wrist dismissively. She trusted Kota to appoint someone of a specific capacity to
replace her: just good enough to be adequate but not outshine her. Azula was no fool to the pecking
order of servants. She paid hers well. Being the Princess of the Fire Nation meant a place in her
household was coveted…no matter the temperament of said princess.

"We should catch the end of the family supper, Princess. Or would you prefer to dine in your
quarters?"

She'd never hear the end of it if she didn't drop in on her family. "I suppose I'll have to suffer the
company."

A quarter of an hour later—in time for full darkness to blanket the city—they stepped out of the
carriage and onto the palace grounds.

In the few months since Azula's last visit, Mai's cultivation of the empty grounds around the palace
had continued with a new row of palm trees along the central path. It was a little rural for Azula's
tastes, but it cooled what was usually a baking hot cobblestone road. Light flickered from the
balconies and windows, lighting up various tapestries and mosaics, and the scent of flowers was
soft on the breeze. Mai had certainly brightened the palace décor inside and out in the years she'd
been living there.

Kota murmured with a palace servant—one who was loyal to Azula and kept her rooms ready—
and quickly caught up to Azula as she made her way to the balcony where her family customarily
supped.

"Are there any letters for me here?" She was hoping for news from Katara; letters always came to
the palace before being forwarded to Ember Island. Katara would likely be gone another month,
but she was definitely going to be here for Zuko and Mai's wedding. Kota replied that there was no
waiting letter.

There was a touch of disappointment but no surprise. Katara usually didn't write when she knew
she'd be returning to the Fire Nation soon. "Have my writing desk ready."

"Yes, Princess."

Kota stopped and bowed as Azula motioned her away. Azula continued at a quick pace down the
hallway towards her family. They were informed of her arrival, no doubt.

When she swept through the thin curtains onto the balcony, fewer people awaited her than she
expected. Zuko was quick to speak; he wasn't exactly welcoming. "Why are you here?"

"It's lovely to see you too, Brother. But I do need to speak with you privately, preferably tonight."

His expression softened. He brushed his loose hair off of his shoulder and stood, drawing her into a
stiff hug that they both only tolerated for a few moments. They performed these gestures now even
outside of Ursa's presence; their mother had trained them that well. He even ventured to say, "You
look good, Azula."

He was trimmer than he'd been the last time she'd seen him. "You've begun training again."

"I was tired of tailors taking out the waists of my clothes, and Mom will kill me if I'm not fit for the
wedding." He motioned for her to sit down at the table. Mai reclined there, looking shockingly
mellow. She gave Azula a little wave and sipped at her wine. Azula would have worried about
sitting down during a doubtlessly inane romantic dinner, but the table was still set for four people.
Iroh and Ursa had already retired for the evening.

A servant cleared off a place at lightning speed, and a new plate appeared, heaped with soft
cabbage rolls and a dipping dish of sweet-legume sauce. Azula waved away the wine she was
offered and accepted cold tea instead. The meal was a little heavy for so late in the day, but it was
too good to decline.

"Are you ready to be useful again?" Zuko asked her.

Azula pointedly ignored that jab as she tucked into her meal. Ursa and Mai had been corralling her
into their letter writing campaign urging nobles to part with their money for social programs for
several years. That was enough of a headache. She refused to do Zuko's job for him in any capacity.

"Oh, shut up, Zuko. You volunteered for this job," Mai muttered. "I don't care how many nobles
you have to suck up to, it can't be as bad as planning a wedding with your mother." The last two
words had as much deep, ugly frustration as Mai was capable. Azula smirked into her cup as Mai
continued. "You'd think she was the one getting married."

"We can't have pink drapes and a white wedding robe, can we?" Azula snipped.
Mai calmly raised her middle finger.

"Ugh. Why can't we just…" Zuko trailed off. Mai rolled her eyes and finished, "Elope? I already
asked you that."

Azula took pleasure in snidely reciting: "One of the responsibilities of being Fire Lord and Fire
Lady is having a very public wedding and offering a massive feast with an open table. But I think
any bride has to survive her mother-in-law's controlling nature."

"I heard that." Ursa stepped out onto the balcony. Her hair was down—more gray than black now
—and she wore no makeup. Her robe was unadorned, doubtless for sleeping, and she was barefoot.
Azula imagined Ursa and Iroh's majordomo chasing her down the hallway with slippers. The
Honored Mother's blessed feet should never touch the ground!

Like this, Ursa looked both younger and older than usual to Azula.

"I didn't know you were planning to visit, Azula," Ursa said. Azula suffered a kiss to her hair and
Ursa's arms around her shoulders in a gentle hug. Before she could react, Ursa had untied both of
her sleeves. She'd gotten proficient at it. "It's so good to see my baby girl."

"You'd think I'm not over twenty," Azula muttered, irritated as the elbows of her robes fell open
and her sleeves went heavy and long. "Give those back."

Ursa gave her another squeeze and then landed a loud smacking kiss to her temple. As she rose, she
swatted Azula's shoulder and set her sleeve ties on the table. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, sweetie.
Sleep well. Please stop wearing those ridiculous ties."

"Tell Iroh goodnight. And I refuse."

Ursa paused at the drapes, cocking her head. She smiled. "I will. Goodnight, Zuko, Mai."

"That was sickening," Mai muttered after Ursa was gone. "For someone who claims to hate her
family, you sure go all sweet with your mother."

Azula supposed that to someone who was used to ignoring her mother's existence, putting up with
Ursa qualified as going 'all sweet'. She managed to tie one sleeve off one-handed, and Kota
appeared out of thin air to quickly attend to the other. "Maybe if you did the same you'd have less
trouble planning your wedding."

Mai smirked, leaning her head on her hand. "You're going to be my main cohort, just so you know.
I'm thinking bright pink would be great for you."

Azula didn't believe for a second that her robes for the ceremony weren't already made; she'd been
measured time and time again throughout the year. "Unless that color is going to be on Ty Lee, I
disagree."

Mai reached out and intertwined her fingers with Zuko's, conceding the point. "I suppose I
shouldn't underestimate your ability to make me miserable. What color do you want?"

"Really? You're asking me about clothing?" Azula accepted the thick coca-bean tea a servant set
beside her. She poured milk into it and stirred it. It was rich and pleasant, and she sipped it as she
considered. "Red."

"Told you," Zuko muttered.

"Or black."

"Told you," Mai said.

They smirked at each other and kissed.

Once, she would have been disgusted. Now she was resigned…and a little envious. She made a
rude noise anyway and said, "I think that's my cue to remind you, Zuko, that we need to talk."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"No."

He sobered and got to his feet. "I guess that means you want to talk in private."

"Your analytic powers astound me, as always, Brother."

Azula waited while he kissed Mai and told her he'd be in bed soon. Then they walked side-by-side
down the airy hallway out of the east wing. Water Tribe tapestries decorated these walls. Azula
couldn't imagine what kind of rage Ozai might go into seeing that. All in all, it did have a pretty
effect. Whether or not decorations could help soften the tenuous relationship between Zuko and
either Water Tribe still remained to be seen.

Her brother looked like a man; he was tall and broad, and he took more after Ozai than probably
anyone in the family wanted to dignify. At least Zuko avoided facial hair. Azula had once had a
private fear about her own height—especially after she'd learned Iroh was her father—but she'd
grown even in her late teens. She stood to Zuko's ear, tall in her own right. If not for Zuko's scar,
they might pass as twins.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

He swept aside an old tapestry—one they'd improved as children with a curly mustache and thick
eyebrows—and she ducked behind it, familiar with this old passage. They used to spend hours as
children exploring the palace, finding rooms and servant halls that often led to dead-ends created
by endless palace renovations. They stepped into one such dead-end now: an anteroom that used to
be dusty and covered in cobwebs. When Zuko lit a lamp, Azula saw it had been cleaned up
moderately. There were two chairs and a desk with a few oil lamps scattered around. Scrolls, ink,
and writing brushes littered the desktop.

Azula drew her finger along a small serving table in one corner and wiped up a trail of dust. She
continued with the gesture, drawing the character for 'dust'. Glancing over Azula's shoulder, Zuko
snorted. "It's not really a secret room if I ask the servants to clean it."

She dusted her hands off. "You're a fool if you think any room in this palace isn't known by staff."

"You don't know my majordomo," Zuko replied, reclining in his writing chair. "He'd have a
conniption fit if he knew there was any place in this palace that doesn't shine bright enough to see
his reflection in it." His eyes sharpened as he focused on her. "What's the problem?"

Azula reached into her robe and handed him the scroll.

Zuko blinked at the broken black wax seal. As he read the message his face remained
expressionless. He looked up at her, and they studied each other for a moment. He smoothed the
paper out with a long breath. "Do you want the job?"
No flames, no rule. "No, Zuko. And I hope you know by now that I don't want you dead either."

"I love you too," he said dryly. The sigh he gave was heavy, and Azula watched the weight of the
nation fall on his shoulders. Zuko shook the heavy hair from his face and brushed it over his
shoulder.

"What do you want me to do about this?" she asked.

"What were you thinking?"

"Drawing out the trap. If they've gone as far as contacting me, either they're incredibly stupid or
they have an elaborate plan in place. Given the black wax and misspellings, I'm inclined towards
the former. I should hope that it goes without saying that this needs to remain between us."

He nodded slowly, considering it. "Might be dangerous."

She raised her eyebrows.

Zuko slowly grinned. "I guess you're betting on that."

Azula nearly skipped the letter she planned to write. It was late for her, but if she slept
immediately, she'd suffer from heartburn. She would be better off getting some work done in the
meantime. Kota set a soft lamp next to Azula on the desk and slipped away.

Azula dipped her brush in ink and carefully drafted her characters. The proper straight-backed
technique of writing had been drilled into her by her calligraphy teachers at the academy, and she
was grateful for their constant derision. If they'd given her any slack she knew she would have
handwriting as sloppy as her brother's. For this correspondence, the phonetic noblewoman script
would not be appropriate so she carefully formed each morpheme symbol with her writing brush.
By the time she'd signed the letter, her eyes were heavy.

"Read this."

Kota drew forward, and her eyes flicked over the characters and words. "You sound assertive,
Princess."

Azula rolled up the scroll, and Kota melted red wax with her bending. Into it went Azula's personal
seal. Kota immediately left to find a trusted messenger. A fire hawk wouldn't do. It would have to
cross the Great Sea.

Then she could rest.

The sheets were cool and comfortable against her skin. It was more humid in Capital City than on
Ember Island, and the breeze from the balcony wasn't as strong as she liked. Despite herself, she
missed her cat. Azula sighed and shifted, trying to find sleep even as her mind ran through all she
would need to arrange for the coming days.

At least the first step was out of her hands. Maybe she'd go see Ozai tomorrow…

Sometime in the night, Azula awakened with a gasp of shock when someone clambered into bed
with her. She relaxed as soon as she recognized the scent and sound of the intruder—who began to
kiss her neck and shoulder and fumble with her robe.

"Katara. When did…?" she murmured. She was too sleepy to be embarrassed by the breathy
quality of her voice. This was a surprise… A pleasant one. Her mind had trouble believing this was
real and not a dream.

"Just got here," Katara whispered in her ear. Her fingers opened Azula's robes and traced
maddening patterns across her skin. Her hand finally settled between Azula's legs, and oh…

She lasted only a few minutes. That wasn't long enough for Katara. She pulled Azula's robe off,
breathed into her ear, and whispered how beautiful she was, how much she missed Azula and her
body. Katara continued her caresses until Azula shuddered in completion once more.

Azula felt liquid and sinful and so relaxed, all things said and done. Or just done. Katara shifted to
straddle one of Azula's thighs and rocked against her for only a moment before she came. Katara's
gasp of pleasure and her wet heat were sinfully decadent. After that, Katara snuggled against her
and was apparently satisfied for the night. Azula had the presence of mind to ask, "What time is
it?"

"Late. Sleep," Katara whispered. "I'll be here in the morning."

It was too easy to obey.

It took Azula a few moments to recognize her surroundings when she woke that morning. She was
hot; there seemed to be three layers of sheets on her body. Azula lifted her head and saw the source
of the extra insulation: Katara had thrown all the sheets on her side of the bed over Azula sometime
in the night.

Azula took a private, vulnerable moment to study the shape of Katara's sleeping face. She looked
happy and relaxed. Her brown hair fell across her face in a gentle sweep of waves. One arm was
crossed over her breasts, and she shifted in her sleep in an achingly familiar way. Azula had to stop
herself from waking her lover. She wanted to pull Katara into her arms and hold her close.

It was undignified to feel something so soft. She escaped her compulsion with the thought that
Katara undoubtedly had been traveling for some time and gotten in to the capital late last night.
She would be tired.

The floor offered soothing coolness against her hot feet as she walked naked into the bathing
chamber adjoined to her bedroom. Kota appeared only moments later, offering cold water to drink.
Azula washed her mouth while her servant arranged her soaps. She bathed herself over the drain,
and Kota dumped a bucket of clean, tepid water over her head to rinse her and began to work at
Azula's hair, which was as long as Azula had ever worn it and too much for her to handle alone.
Then Azula settled into the sunken pool to soak.

Only a few minutes later, the door to Azula's rooms opened, and Katara padded down the steps.
She wore Azula's sleeping robe. Her hair tumbled wildly over her shoulders, giving her a rumpled
look. Azula appreciated the bare length of Katara's legs and the elegant line of her ankles.

"I do love it when you wear my clothes," Azula said.

Katara cracked a sleepy yawn, but she wasn't sleepy enough to completely ignore Kota's presence.
It was so odd to Azula—who had grown up with servants seeing everything—to be self-conscious
over the presence of a woman who was paid to be discreet and most of all not to notice. But, for
Katara to be free and relaxed, it was an easy matter to dismiss Kota with a flick of her wrist.

As soon as they were alone, Katara shucked the robe and slid into the water without bathing. It was
a breach of etiquette that Azula would have protested a few years ago, but she'd learned anywhere
that involved water was fair game for a waterbender lover. It didn't really matter in the Royal
Palace, where the servants changed the water in the soaking tub daily.

They kissed, heavy and wet, luxuriating in each other. Three months was too long. Katara pushed
her away and sat on the edge of the bath. She opened her legs, and Azula understood the unspoken
command. Azula pushed between her legs and set to her task with a hunger that had been building
in the months of Katara's absence.

Training would not happen that morning. Azula had more important things to attend to.

After they'd been in the bath long enough to prune, Katara settled in her lap and fiddled with
Azula's fingertips. She traced the edges of them in a slow caress. Azula doubted she would have
guessed the significance she placed on a woman's hands if she weren't in this relationship. One of
the first things she'd looked at on a woman now was her hands. It was a language of itself, another
complex layer to judging a person.

Katara echoed the thoughts she'd provoked. "I'm so glad you got rid of those scary nails."

"They would make certain activities difficult," Azula admitted. She supposed Katara had never
learned that Azula hadn't 'gotten rid' of her nails by choice. She'd never had the patience to grow
them out again—she'd developed the disgusting habit of biting them when they got long—and
eventually she'd grown to prefer them short.

"Dangerous, more like. How did you masturbate with them?"

Azula scoffed, attempting humor. "What do you think a bodyservant is for, Katara?"

"You should have tried that joke a few years ago. I might have believed you then." By Katara's
tone, it was clear she was humoring Azula. She sighed against Azula's neck sweetly. "Poor Kota.
She'd be so embarrassed to hear you say that."

Azula nuzzled Katara's hair, appreciating her scent. "I never even thought about pleasuring myself
until after I was with you for the first time."

"I corrupted you."

"I certainly wasn't protesting."

The small clock in the bathing chamber showed midmorning. Azula withdrew regretfully. "Go
back to sleep. I have a few errands this morning."

"You could always come back to bed with me."

"Tempting me away from my duties, are you?" Azula clucked in mock disapproval. "We'll have
plenty of time tonight." Azula smirked over her shoulder at Katara as she stepped out of the bath.
"You should take the time to build up your strength."

"Is that so, Princess?" Katara rolled her eyes and smiled as she clambered out of the bath after
Azula. Despite the bravado in her voice, she was an unmoving lump under the sheets by the time
Azula was dressed. Azula paused on her way out to kiss Katara's shoulder and only provoked a
sleepy mumble.

On the way to the family breakfast that had become customary since the war, Azula motioned for
Kota to walk with her. "Arrange for an armorer to take my measurements this morning."
"Something in the modern fashion?"

"Something serviceable and fashionable, yes. Have both of my swords out for when I return."

"Yes, Princess." Her bodyservant bowed and turned away to see to it.

As she stepped onto the balcony, Azula was surprised to see so many people at the table: eight.
Apparently Katara had come in with a party. She managed to keep her lip from curling at the sight
of the Avatar taking breakfast next to Zuko.

Their interactions had been limited since the end of the war. She held a great disdain for his
naivety in how he defeated Ozai and with his childish pacifist views. Azula had never been very
good at hiding her negative emotions, and he was quick to catch onto her emotion. He clearly didn't
approve of her in turn, probably particularly because of Katara.

Apparently he was trying to grow facial hair; all he'd managed so far was a pitiful wispy mustache.
Azula looked at him, at his mustache, and felt a deep, awful pulse of fear—at his power and his
naivety in one—and she hated herself and him for that fear.

She’d been afraid of Ozai once, until she’d beaten him in battle. There was not that option with the
Avatar. She was powerless and he was powerful, and she hated him for it. He lifted her eyes and
met her gaze almost accidentally, and she sneered in her mélange of dark emotion. The Avatar lost
his smile immediately and looked away.

Before she could find her seat, Iroh rose from the table and reached out to press her hands. He
smiled around his thick white beard. "You look well, Azula. It's nice to see you here again."

She suffered a reply. "I trust you're well, Iroh."

"Quite well, thank you." He motioned for her to take the vacant seat next to him. Azula dutifully
said her 'good mornings' to her family as she sat. She was irritated to be stuck between Iroh and
ever-smiling Ty Lee. She'd not guessed that morning that Ty Lee would be here. She must have
volunteered to help Mai make final preparations for the wedding.

"Princess Azula!" Ty Lee's voice had deepened slightly with age, but she hadn't lost any chipper
enthusiasm.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen Ty Lee since her betrayal, but Azula was just as uncomfortable
with her presence as before. She wasn't sure how to act; so she simply ignored the source of her
discomfiture past acknowledging her. "Good morning, Ty Lee."

Ty Lee beamed and pronounced, "Your aura looks so lovely and vibrant this morning. It's a
wonderful purple of satisfaction." It wasn't surprising to hear the faintest touch of salaciousness in
her tone.

Across the table, Katara's brother, Sokka, snorted into his bowl. Unlike the Avatar, he'd managed
to grow a respectable beard. "Probably because Katara screw—" He quickly stopped when he
glanced at Ursa and cleared his throat. "—er, you enjoyed Katara being here last night, Azula. As
soon as Katara found out you were here, she was gone like—" He snapped his fingers.

Azula watched the Avatar's still boyish face tighten in anger. He got up and left the table without a
word. She wondered if he'd ever get over Katara. Not that she could blame him. Katara was
singular. Let him stew in her victory. Azula spoke to Sokka. "I wasn't aware we had such a large
visiting party now."
With the exception of Toph Bei Fong—who treated everyone with the same careless disrespect—
he was the most tolerant of Katara's social circle towards her. Azula couldn't take for granted
Sokka's seemingly open acceptance. He smiled at her now genially. "Well, since Suki and I were
never able to have a honeymoon, we figured we could come on out early to Zuko and Mai's
wedding and have a nice vacation."

Azula remembered the scroll sealed by black wax in her chambers and all its implications. What an
unfortunate time for an extended visit. Not that she could say anything but a polite nicety for
Katara's sake. "I hope your stay is enjoyable."

From beside Sokka, Suki scoffed disdainfully. "Don't even give me that. You don't give a crap
about anyone but yourself."

"Excuse me," Ursa gasped from across the table.

Azula raised her hand. She determined to enjoy this interaction while Katara was absent. "It's
alright. Obviously this Kyoshi Warrior—Suki, was it?—still smarts over the fact that I so easily
captured her quaint little band of warrior sisters." She plucked up some grapefruit and orangefruit
and stirred them into her boiled oats. "And that I stole her clothing, impersonated her, and
conquered Ba Sing Se."

Ty Lee apparently had no sense of self-preservation…or Suki had no authority to discipline one of
her soldiers. Ty Lee grinned as she said, "That was awfully fun."

Across the table, Mai smirked in agreement. "Kind of makes me nostalgic."

Well, that was a nice little puff of nostalgia for Azula as well.

Azula continued, watching Suki's face harden with each word. "Because of you, Suki, I was able to
lead a bloodless coup of an unconquerable city. I freed the civilians from the rule of a half-wit king,
and I released them from the brainwashing tyranny of a megalomaniac. You should thank me for
putting your equipment to such efficient use." She finished her statement by raising her teacup in a
wordless toast.

Suki slammed her fists down onto the table. "Fuck your imperialism! You killed one of my girls
when you captured us! Or did you forget about her blood?!"

"She stepped into my flame," Azula replied. "It was war. Don't pretend you didn't swing your
sword at my neck with the intention of taking off my head."

"You can't justify everything with war!"

"No?"

Suki glared at her, but Azula kept her expression placid as she ate a tart bite of orangefruit. She had
nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to fear from this woman. After a moment, Sokka placed a
hand on Suki's arm with an awkward smile, but she shrugged him off and knocked over her chair in
her haste to leave the table. A servant rushed forward to right it.

Two guests she'd managed to piss off in a manner of minutes. How delightful.

"Well, I never," Ursa said irritably.

"Perhaps, Azula, it would be easier to get along with others if you simply ignored their
complaints." Iroh's voice expressed mild reproach. Ursa directed her frown to him as he spoke. Iroh
had obviously missed the point: that Azula thought getting along with Suki wasn't nearly as fun as
making her angry.

"I don't think you did anything wrong, Princess!" Ty Lee chimed in. Predictable. Sometimes she
wondered who exactly Ty Lee was loyal to, and how it was so easy for her to seamlessly switch.

If this was a taste of what the rest of the day would be like, she wanted to go back to bed and enjoy
Katara until this storm was weathered.

The tailor was already in the sitting room of her quarters when she arrived after breakfast. His
assistant—a young, pretty woman who looked to be from the Earth Kingdom—began to take her
measurements as the tailor asked her questions about how she wanted the armor styled.

Azula knew that the traditional black bone-armor that had been in style during the war would look
very good on her, but she doubted she could stomach putting it back on after what happened the
last time she'd worn it. It was also quite out of style. Thankfully.

The new style had arisen, in part thanks to Zuko's tastes. It consisted of a thinner and lighter armor
that was supposedly as strong as the heavy armor of the past. The main tunic was reinforced by
woven silk and thin sheets of tough komodo rhino hide, and it was covered by a few other layers of
reinforced silk tunics.

More and lighter layers would decrease the friction of the armor on skin, and it supposedly offered
greater protection by the very fact that the material would give with the thrust of a blade or the
burst of flame. A hard belt secured the layers and was wide enough to protect the vulnerable belly.

The tailor asked her at length—though he did not waste any words—about what colors, styles, and
emblems she wished to have sewn into her clothing. Eventually, he asked about her weapons.

"Princess, your servant has informed me that you would like two shoulder harnesses for swords.
Worn crossed on the back?"

"Yes."

"Might I ask what kind and how long these swords are?"

Kota stepped forward with one of the blades. The armorer glanced at them. "Seventy centimeter
jians?"

"Yes. I would also like a harness for a dagger." She withdrew the dagger Iroh had given her all
those years ago from her robes, and the tailor held it gently in his hands. He rolled the sheath over
in his fingers—his eyebrows rising at the craftsmanship on the stitching of the leather—and
quickly measured the diameter without drawing the blade. The man bowed and handed the dagger
back, blade towards him appropriately.

"Worn at the right hip?"

"Yes."

The assistant backed away with the measuring tape folded in her hands.

"I will need this finished by nightfall." She wanted to be ready to look the part when the rebels
called on her, and who knew when that would be.
His expression stuttered only a moment before he bowed. Azula had enough idea of the scope of
this task to appreciate the enormous burden she'd just placed on his shoulders. She made it worth
his while. "If this project is completed on time and to my satisfaction, I will recommend your
services and come to you first for any needs I may have in the future."

Endorsement by royalty would line this man's pockets with gold and set him for life. The tailor
knew it; he bowed low in respect. "It shall be done, Princess."

"Dismissed."

After he left, she spent long moments in deep meditation as she routinely oiled her swords.
Through her childhood, Ozai forbade her carrying a weapon; he thought it was demeaning to use
something other than bending in battle. She'd always been interested in sword work and had spent
the last few years learning how to wield them. There was something so satisfying about caring for
her weapons.

She would have traded it all in a second for the chance to regain her bending or just feel her chi
again. All these years, she'd continued with her meditations and katas, and still not one puff of
flame. Had she known back during the war that this would happen, she would have appreciated her
fire a great deal more.

Azula folded the heavy oiled cloth over her sword blade and exhaled as she drew the blade along
it. With that breath and gesture, she also pushed those bitter thoughts away. Each stroke relaxed her
more until she was settled and comfortable in her own skin again.

Her next task was far less peaceful, but Mai and Ursa had asked her to do it. If she didn't, she'd
have both of them to contend with, which wasn't a pretty scenario. Kota arranged her writing desk,
and Azula settled down at it. At least the first letter she wrote was gleefully fun.

To the esteemed Lord Tong,

I, Princess Azula of the bloodlines of Sozin and Roku, am writing on the behalf of the future Fire
Lady Mai and the Honored Mother Ursa to request financial aid for the Nationalized School
Initiative. I am certain you will be most accommodating towards funding our needs, as you are
such an unfailing patron of the Muma District businesses. As I'm sure you know, half of the
prostitution tax is used to fund the current public schools of the Fire Nation. Because of your
generous weekly contributions towards this tax, I would like to reward you and your family with a
party and a citywide announcement of the sum of your contribution. Of course, if you match the
taxes you've thus far paid with a private donation to the crown, I will have to announce the
donation instead of your prostitution tax contribution.

I look forward to hearing your reply.

Blackmail was ridiculously fun. She wished she could watch the nobleman squirm as he read her
letter. She had no doubt they would receive a large donation to the Nationalized School Initiative
because Tong was terrified his wife would find out exactly how much he spent per week on sexual
purchases.

The next missives weren't as fun, unfortunately, and she had to write them as a request, not a threat.
She was deep into the drafting of the third letter when warm arms wrapped around her shoulders.
Katara kissed her neck. "What're you working on?"

"Boring, petty, stupid posturing."

"Sounds boring, petty, and stupid. Want to come to bed?"

Yes.

It had been too long. She felt slovenly, lazy, and like she was shirking her duties, but it didn't stop
her from making love with Katara and enjoying every minute of it.

A while later, Azula lifted her head off a pillow, fascinated by the contrast between her black hair
and Katara's soft brown spread across the sheets. "In bed all afternoon… Whatever will the
servants think?"

"Kota's probably glad someone else is around to do her job for her."

Azula laughed as she imagined her prim bodyservant's reaction to that joke. "Working hard, are
you?"

"Not really. You're pretty easy." Katara's smile was soft. She bit Azula gently on the hip, giving
her a jolt.

"That happens when I have to attend to myself for several months at a time."

"I should have stayed longer in the South Pole, but I missed you, and Sokka came by on his way
in." Katara laid her head on the arch of Azula's back and sighed, her fingers brushing gently along
the line of Azula's shoulders. "I like watching you attend to your own need," she murmured
sensually, caressing Azula's back. Katara's words and touch weren't enough to distract Azula from
the memory of the uncomfortable breakfast that morning.

"Why did you have to bring all of them with you?"

"They're my family."

Azula heeded the sharp defensiveness of Katara's answer. She wished that Katara didn't think
everything she said was meant as an insult. She rolled over to meet Katara's eyes. "Your brother is
fine. It's the rest of them I'd prefer to stay well away."

Katara's expression relaxed. She held Azula's eyes—her eyes were so blue—as she laid her head
back down on Azula's belly. "Did Aang make a scene?"

"On the contrary, all he does is get up and leave whenever I enter a room."

Katara arched her back as she stretched, and Azula smoothed her hand down her soft breasts, the
sharp outline of her arched ribcage, and the gentle roundness of her belly. It was only natural to
follow the flow of that body and slide her fingertips into the tangled hair between Katara's legs.
Katara batted her hand away with a laugh. "I need a little more time. Some of us don't have an
endless supply of orgasms."

"What can I say? I have stamina." Her statement drew a giggle. Azula gave herself a moment to lie
there and enjoy the peace. She studied the tapestry that formed the canopy of the bed—woven
blues of water and reds of fire that swirled into a combined violet burst. Mai had outdone herself
with that find. Every time Azula looked at it, she remembered the heart-racing excitement of her
bender battles with Katara and the pleasure of making love with her.

"I should get up."

Katara scowled at her, but Azula could tell it was a ruse. "So you can only stay in bed when I'm
pliable and willing?"

"I said I should. I doubt I will."

"Why are you here, anyway? Not that I'm unhappy about it. I just didn't think you'd be in Capital
City until right before the wedding."

"Zuzu needed a little help with something."

"Since when do you help your brother willingly?"

Azula stiffened at Katara's dismissive tone. Katara made it no secret that she didn't approve of
Azula's hands-off attitude towards her family. Azula made it no secret she thought her relationship
with her family was not Katara's business. Those arguments between them tended to degenerate
into screaming matches, and Azula warred between her pride and her unwillingness to upset the
good mood between them.

Katara quickly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound so…"

"Accusatory?"

Katara reached out to Azula's hand and threaded their fingers together. She tugged gently at Azula's
hand, and despite herself, Azula was already ready to forgive after the simple apology. Katara took
on a wheedling tone. "Don't be mad."

Azula couldn't stop her face from shifting into a slow smile. Katara's eyes flashed impishly, and her
free hand sneaked towards Azula's ribs. Azula seized it to stop the attack she knew was coming.
Katara freed her other hand and stabbed a finger into Azula's ribcage, and Azula gave a yelping
laugh despite herself. She managed to sit on Katara's free hand long enough to grab her wrist, and
Katara fell on her with a kiss.

Kota discretely entered the room, drawing Azula's attention. Katara saw the servant and stiffened.
She quickly pulled the sheets up over them both...as if Kota didn't see Azula naked every day.
Azula humored Katara's modesty.

"Forgive the intrusion, Princess, Lady Katara."

The scroll in Kota's hand was sealed with black wax.

Azula got out of bed, and Kota draped her robe around her shoulders. Katara was immediately alert.
"What is it?"

"Something I need to take care of." Azula pushed her arms through her sleeves and belted the robe
with a quick square knot. "Take a nap. You still look tired."

"What's that scroll about, Azula?"

"Let me read it first, and then I may be able to tell you." Azula couldn't temper her sardonic tone
and knew as soon as she said it she was tempting fate. Katara clamped her teeth in irritation, and
Azula retreated from the room before an argument could break out. She snapped the seal off of the
scroll and unrolled it.

Tonight at midnight on Fang Street and 4 th Lane of the Muma District

Azula's lips pinched. Of course they would choose Muma, the sex-trade district of the city. The
designated corner was no doubt a lower end area. She would have to wear a cloak to disguise her
clothing, but she would be damned if she met with the dissenters without her official armor on.

She could already guess that there would be no time to visit Ozai that day. What Azula really
wanted was to crawl back into bed with Katara and nap the afternoon away. She could, honestly,
and wait to make a move until she'd learned who wanted to usurp her brother.

The temptation was too great. She handed the scroll to Kota. "Keep it with the other. I don't want to
be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon."

Kota bowed in affirmation as Azula walked back into the bedroom.

Katara was still sitting up in bed. "Was that wax black?"

"Mmhm." Azula slid into bed. She wrapped her arms around Katara and settled against her,
refusing to give more information.

"So it wasn't an emergency?"

"No."

"What was it about? I've never seen black wax on a scroll before."

"Some silly noble drama. It's not important." Azula sighed, realizing she was still tired from the
late night last night. Her body relaxed in degrees, and Katara's curiosity seemed to bleed out of her
as they both faded into sleep. There was no doubt she'd be wheedling information out of Azula
soon enough.

The tailor arrived just before supper with her completed armor.

The tailor's assistant and Kota began to dress her: first the undershirt and trousers. Then a black
long-sleeved tunic with long tails that fell to her knees. Over that was the maroon tabard reinforced
with tough komodo rhino leather. The shoulders weren't the dramatic pointed ones of her youth;
they rounded down over her shoulders in double caps.

She shifted within the clothes, liking the way the heavy tabard apron fell over her legs. Already it
was more comfortable than seemed appropriate for armor.

Over the top of that went a sleeveless black silk tunic folded left-over-right across her chest. Its
tails fell on either side of her hips, held in place by the wide belt across her waist. Her arm guards
and boots were of the same material and pattern as the armored tabard. Her dagger sheath fit
comfortably in a leather thong at her hip, and she draped her swords across her back.

Azula regarded herself in the polished mirror. Kota had drawn her hair into a complete topknot,
and a golden triple flame hairpiece flashed there. She wore makeup for the first time in months.
Azula lifted her chin. Reflected back at her in that mirror was someone she hadn't seen in a very
long time: a competent warrior, a sure firebender, and the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. If
only one of those designations wasn't a lie.

If only she didn't look like a stranger.

"Very good," she said quietly. It almost surprised her to see the woman in the mirror speak when
she did. She took a deep breath and settled her dignity under her shoulders. She was a Royal
Princess of the Fire Nation. It was time to act like it again.
The tailor beamed and bowed so low his forehead nearly hit the floor.

"What do you think?" Azula asked her servant.

Kota walked around her, eyes flitting up and down. "It's a good fit, Princess."

Katara stepped through the door from Azula's bedchamber. She was dressed and bathed; she'd
drawn her hair back into a heavy braid. Azula studied the line of Katara's neck in appreciation.
Even without makeup, wearing a casual tunic, she was beautiful and so very welcome. Azula might
wonder if it was Katara's absence that made her such a fixation when she was here, but with every
new day that passed Katara became a little more desirable.

She gave a perplexed smile now as she took in Azula's armor. Her eyes flashed as they met Azula's,
and her smile softened into a tender expression that made Azula's chest feel light. How she could
garner such a look, she still didn't understand.

The tailor glanced away from Katara with distinct embarrassment. Was it such common knowledge
even in Capital City that Azula had a foreign female lover? Was this man embarrassed for her?
Katara was not a dirty little secret, and it insulted both of them to consider her so.

"What's up with the armor?"

Azula's mind jerked to the present, and she lifted her eyes from the tailor to Katara. "I want to
impress people," she said. She lifted her arms in a sweeping gesture. "Do I look impressive?"

"You'd look impressive wearing a potato sack, and you know it." Katara stepped close for a kiss.

Azula smirked as she reached out to wipe lip-stain she'd left on Katara's mouth. "Then I must look
absolutely extraordinary in this."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Conceited more like," she muttered quietly. The tailor gulped audibly; at
least he feared her. Katara continued, "Oh, you've got your swords. You should ask my brother if
he wants to spar with you. You just have to promise not to 'relieve him of any vital appendages'."
Katara had adopted the tone and cadence she used to mimic Azula's voice.

"I can think of a few appendages that aren't particularly vital."

Katara shook a finger at her. "I want to be an aunt so emasculating my brother is not allowed!"

Azula laughed and glanced at the tailor. "Your work is adequate. I'd like to commission another set
like this for formal wear—incorporating the design of my weapons into the trim."

"The dragons?"

"No, the black stitching," she said sharply. What a pointless question. " Yes, the dragons."

The tailor trembled. "W-when would you like the new set ready, Princess?"

"Several weeks will suffice for the full set. I want the outer tunic no later than the end of the
week."

He and his assistant bowed profusely as they left. Azula removed her swords and handed them to
her majordomo. She motioned to Katara. "Dinner?"

Katara shot her a look to indicate she didn't approve of Azula's attitude towards the tailor, but she
only said, "You're going to eat in that?"
Because it wasn't a denial, Azula resigned herself to supping with the visiting party. She offered
Katara her arm as they made their way down the hall. "Do you think I'd actually spill food on my
clothes?"

Katara teased her with a rude face, but she offered a smile and a squeeze after.

As it turned out, only Azula's family was at the table. Hopefully it meant this would be a quieter
meal than breakfast, but with Ursa and Mai sharing a table there was always a chance of family
drama. The four people at the table looked up at different times and studied her in curiosity.

Mai was the first to speak: "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Do you like it? This is what I'm going to wear to your wedding," Azula sniped. She traced her
fingers over the hilt of her dragon dagger and ignored Iroh's resulting smile.

Mai's expression shifted from slightly perplexed to slightly irritated. Ursa meanwhile looked more
than irritated, which didn't go unnoticed by Mai. It was probably why Mai replied, "Not the worst
ever, I guess. I'm not sure it's safe for you to be armed during a public event though."

Azula settled at the table beside Katara. She pushed her allotted fruit dipping sauce towards
Katara, who liked it a great deal more than Azula did. "I don't plan to kill Zuko, if that's what
you're worried about. Though it would probably be the greater mercy."

"Oh, fuck you," Mai said without any heat. Ursa cleared her throat loudly. They both ignored her.

"You are always so dreadfully polite," Azula sniped back.

"Up yours."

"And so mature."

"Anyway, I was more worried about the other guests," Mai continued dryly. "You wouldn't kill
Zuko; you don't want his job."

"True. But it would be amusing to watch the nobles squabble over the throne."

Ursa cleared her throat once again. Odd that she didn't chastise them for their 'inappropriate talk'.
Something about talking about the death of a Fire Lord had always made Ursa uncomfortable.
Azula doubted it was some long buried prick of conscience; Ursa's disapproval started long before
she murdered Azulon. Ursa asked, "Why exactly do you think you need armor, Azula?"

"Everyone needs armor." She smirked at her mother. "I like to look impressive."

"Is there something I need to know?" Ursa asked sharply.

"I think you should let Azula be as she is," Iroh replied with a sigh. "There's nothing wrong with
having a good set of armor in case it's needed. Though I'm uncertain as to why it's necessary to
wear it to the dinner table."

"Azula's being Azula," Zuko said distractedly; his nose was buried in a scroll. Azula wasn't sure if
it was a compliment or an insult. His words seemed to put Ursa at ease, and the comment drew a
smile from Iroh so she made no reply.

After a moment, Ursa turned a question to Katara. She wasn't particularly warm, but she wasn't
impolite. "Katara, I trust you slept well last night."
Under the table, Katara flicked Azula's leg. "Very well, thank you, Ursa."

Mai rolled her eyes.

"I missed you during my meditations this afternoon, Azula," Iroh said. He wiped his mustache and
set his chopsticks on the table.

"I was indolent instead."

"I wouldn't say that." This time Katara laid her hand on Azula's thigh and squeezed. Azula's face
went hot.

"Oh, gag me with a spoon," Mai muttered.

Zuko finally looked up from the scroll he'd been perusing. "And you complain about Mai and me."

Katara flushed and attempted to backtrack. "I meant that she was actually working this afternoon."

"Sure you did," Mai said dryly.

Azula took pity on her lover. "How unkind of you, Mai. All afternoon I slaved away drafting
pleading letters endorsing your public school plan. Would you like to read the letters before they're
sent?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Mai replied graciously. "Send them over whenever."

Zuko snorted. "Good luck getting the nobles to part with their money."

"If anyone can, Azula can. I've seen how persuasive she can be." Mai daintily sipped her tea. In her
sleeve, Azula spied the flash of a dagger. For the second time that day, she was struck with
nostalgia—an odd end to a rather satisfying day.

She would need to be in a much different mindset for the meeting later that night. This might be
her last peaceful moment for quite a while.
 Take pleasure where it's due

Azula sweltered beneath the heavy cloak that covered her head and her armor. If she could, she
would have bent the heat from beneath her robes. Instead, she had to sweat. Around her, the Muma
District pulsed in its own musky heat: sex and alcohol and debauchery. She stood in the shadows
behind the sign that designated the street as 4th and waited.

It was an interesting experience to loiter in the night as a stranger to everyone.

A prostitute brushed along the wall beside her. It was difficult to tell if she was attractive under all
that gaudy makeup. "My Lord." Her voice was as sultry as it could be for all the tobacco or opium
she undoubtedly inhaled to roughen it so much. "We could slip away somewhere quiet and enjoy
each other."

Very few prostitutes were in business for themselves. Azula guessed this woman was stiffing the
government of taxes as an unregistered business. No doubt she didn't take the proper precautions
with her clients. No doubt she was poor and desperate.

The woman drew closer. "Or I could give you a suck right here, under that cloak, my Lord." She
must have caught sight of the shape of Azula's face beneath her hood because the prostitute drew
back in surprise. "Oh, my Lady." Her grin stretched. At least she had all her teeth. "I could still
give you a good suck."

"You couldn't handle me," Azula replied disdainfully. "Go away. If I need such services, I don't
have to pay for them." Azula handed the woman three gold coins; it would be enough to feed her or
her addiction for several weeks. "I was never here."

The woman bowed clumsily and backed away, the coins clutched in her fingers.

A few minutes later, several prostitutes swept by; their faces were painted in the traditional style of
red on white. The tallest was lovely and doubtless expensive. Her head turned, and her bright
golden eyes remained on Azula as she walked by. Instead of soliciting business, she rolled her head
in an indolent bow and continued on unhurriedly. The others giggled amongst themselves, shooting
sultry looks towards Azula. Perhaps they were going to a party to entertain some rich, pathetic
noble.

Despite her general disdain for this district, Azula found it rather pretty. It was even more brightly
lit than the royal district, and most of the people here laughed freely and held each other as they
wandered through the streets. Her eyes followed a nobleman who was arm-in-arm with a laughing
woman, and she was surprised to realize that the woman was his wife. Perhaps there were houses
that catered to both sexes…or perhaps they preferred to share their sexual purchases.

She entertained the thought of bringing a willing Katara here, commanding the richest prostitute to
fall to her knees before Katara and feast on her as Azula watched. Better yet, one of the noble
daughters—prissy and entitled and racist—wide-eyed at her first lesbian encounter, kneeling
between the legs of a waterbender. She would love it and be so ashamed of that fact. Azula
clenched her fists and turned her thoughts away from that distraction. It would likely be fodder for
thought on a lonely night when Katara was away at the South Pole.

For now, Azula had to keep her mind on business.

Eventually, a pretentious double-seated carriage drew up to the corner. Was this supposed to be
surreptitious? The driver clambered off his seat and swept open the curtain on the back bench.
Azula took a breath, collected herself, and slipped inside.

She brushed her hood off to study the interior. It was well kept, lavishly decorated: dragons and
flames were carved into the wood, and the cushions were made from fine silk. There was a small
silk covered window that connected the two chambers within the carriage that were otherwise
divided by paper panels. Across the divide sat a man, judging by the hairless silhouette. The
carriage began to move before the faint outline in front of Azula spoke. "At last we meet, Fire
Lord."

She was not impressed, and she made sure he knew it. "This subterfuge is petty and childish. Do
you actually think this ridiculous chain of events is somehow less noticeable than my proper
visitation to a noble household?"

The silhouette flinched. When the man spoke, his voice trembled. "I can assure you, Princess, that
we've put in a great deal of effort to keep our plans discreet."

"Black wax?" Azula asked quietly. "Black wax, like we're in a drama play? You and whoever
you're planning with are pompous fools. I would be suicidal to accept your plan to oust my
brother."

"Princess!" he gasped. "Our plans are detailed and—"

Azula tore through the curtain and wrenched the man through it by his collar. Her violence
snapped several thin sections of wood and ripped half of the rice-paper divide. The man hung out
of the torn divide by his shoulders, and he gaped up at her in terror.

He was bald and sweating, thin and ferrety. Lord Tazu, a powerful nobleman by his own right,
though he preferred to invest his money in Earth Kingdom banks. He'd never served on a military
campaign, and his daughters were flighty creatures—she remembered them from the academy—
that were probably married off to the highest bidder as soon as they reached the minimum age.

"Tazu." She kept her voice silky and gentle but tightened her grip on his shoulder. "If everything
that has come to pass is the result of your 'careful planning', I hate to think of what sort of
assassination attempt you're planning for one of the most powerful firebenders on the planet."

He gaped. "My Lord!"

She was pleased by his shock and fear and that he'd reverted to a higher title for her by instinct. It
was the sign of a naturally submissive man. This one she would be able to read like an open book
and control with a twitch of her brow. She tightened her brow now, and his pupils dilated.

"I will meet you when I chose to do so, and it will be by invitation to tea. You will arrange
discreetly for the coconspirators to meet with me face-to-face when I call on you. No more black
wax. In fact, don't write me any more letters; if you send me one, I will forward it to the Fire Lord.
Look for my letter in two days' time."

She paused on the way out of the carriage. "Your youngest daughter is a beautiful specimen.
Present her to me during our next meeting."

His face flushed, and his nod looked like a seizure with the violence and speed at which he agreed.
Tazu offered no protest that his daughter was married. Was she? Azula couldn't remember now.
Either he was truly loyal or he simply didn't care about using his daughter like a pawn. She would
bet on the latter.
She lifted her hood and rapped sharply on the roof of the carriage. It rolled to a stop, and she
stepped out into the night.

Agni save her from these fools.

Katara rolled over in bed as Azula stepped into the bedchamber after a quick bath to wash the
streets from her skin.

"Where were you?" Her words were more demand than question.

"Running an errand."

Katara sat up, and her tone took a sharp turn. "Azula! What kind of errand could you be running in
the middle of the night in full armor?"

Azula belted her sleeping robe and sighed, sliding into bed. She reveled in Katara occupying her
suite, but she didn't appreciate the fact she no longer had privacy. "I'm tired."

"And it'll probably only take a minute to explain what you were doing and why you were doing it."

Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's warm body and fitted them close together. The curtains
stirred in the breeze, and the silk sheets were cool against her skin. She pressed her face into
Katara's hair and enjoyed her presence. Katara knew how to be discreet, and Azula wasn't willing
to sleep alone that night.

"Dissenters want to usurp Zuko. They contacted me, and I'm drawing out the trap. That's where I
was." She squeezed Katara's hand to emphasize her next words. "I hope I don't have to tell you how
important it is that this remains secret from everyone but Zuko and myself."

Katara's body stiffened. "That's dangerous. Do you need help?"

Azula ignored the question. "I have nothing to fear from silly nobles."

"Be careful." Katara's hand was tight against her own.

"You can be assured of that." Azula kissed her neck. "Can I sleep now?"

"Promise me, Azula."

She had to be careful not to sound patronizing. "I'll be careful."

Azula received an invitation from Iroh to take tea the following morning. He rarely sent her formal
invitations so he had piqued her curiosity enough to accept. She nearly turned on her heel and left
when she saw he had a Pai Sho board set up on the balcony of the suite he shared with Ursa.

It was one thing to attend tea with this man and converse about whatever whimsy philosophy he
wished. It was another to deal with him playing this ridiculous game. Before she could retreat, he
put his hand on her back and ushered her forward. "Come, come, sit down!"

She sat and grumbled, "I hate you."

Iroh poured her a cup of tea and grinned, laughing happily, no doubt at her. "I'd like to see your
skills. Maybe your patience has improved since the last time we played. Perhaps we can actually
finish this game."
"Pai Sho is a waste of time."

"Not a waste of time, child. It is a worthy venture, finding tranquility within oneself and turning it
into positive energy in the world." Iroh sipped his tea and moved his first piece.

Azula leaned slovenly on one elbow and flicked a piece across the board with her index finger. She
smarted at the term 'child'. "Blah blah blah blah blah."

Iroh hrmped, gently placing a piece. Azula considered the move briefly, trying to wrap her mind
around what it would take to win. There was no way. She placed her own piece. "Tell me, what
exactly ends a game that has no apparent way to win?"

"It's possible to win without actually beating your opponent," Iroh replied, placing a piece
decisively.

"There are no rules!"

"But there is harmony."

"I can't believe you're my father," Azula muttered. Iroh hid his smile behind his teacup as she
moved another piece randomly.

Iroh grunted. "As always, you prefer symmetry. There is a certain harmony to that, but it is too
logical to be natural, Azula."

She couldn't even begin to understand that statement. "What could possibly be wrong with logic?"

"It binds you, limits your potential."

Azula stared at the board in disgust. She pointed out, "Logic exists because it is logical; it doesn't
limit anything because all things fall within its rules. But by some crazy illogical chance that you're
right, how would that help me win this stupid game?"

"Ah, the fun is in figuring that out."

"It's so arbitrary I'm beginning to think you made this entire game up as an insidious torture
device." As she spoke, she reached out and sipped her tea for the first time. Azula swallowed it
before the taste registered. She retched and dropped the teacup back on the table. Why had she not
expected Iroh to use her as an experiment for a new tea? She stared into her teacup, stunned that
such an innocuous looking liquid tasted so disgusting. "What is this?!"

Iroh considered her reaction mildly. "It's a new brew a friend shipped in from an eastern Earth
Kingdom town. You don't like it?"

"It tastes like…" She considered the horrible aftertaste in her mouth. "Imagine the taste of the
bathwater from a Fire Nation warship at the end of a month at sea. That is the taste currently in my
mouth. People actually choose to drink this?"

Iroh frowned down at his cup. "How odd. Your mother described it as 'piss-tea'. I rather like the
taste myself. I'll have to get your brother to try it; maybe it's a gender difference." At his gesture, a
servant replaced Azula's teacup and filled it with a tea she actually enjoyed.

"Please wait until I'm present before you serve that vile drink to Zuko." She took a heavy swallow
of the brew to wash the bad taste from her mouth.
Iroh grinned mischievously. "I suppose I can arrange that."

They exchanged a few more pieces before he said, "I thought I should warn you that your mother
wants to have a private dinner with you and Katara."

Azula's teacup clattered onto the Pai Sho board; she was angry that she'd just betrayed herself with
that slip. A private dinner? That boded any number of things and most of them weren't good. Ursa
was tolerant at best of their relationship.

"Why?"

Iroh cleared his throat. "You've been together for several years now, have you not?"

"I have no idea why Mom has to have a private dinner to discuss what's common knowledge."

"Your mother wants to know if you're happy."

"It's a simple question; it doesn't require a long, drawn out dinner."

Iroh smiled at her gently. "Which is why I'm asking you: are you happy?"

"Yes." She was surprised by the answer that immediately sprang from her mouth. It felt like a self-
betrayal.

Iroh reached across the table and patted her hand. "That is all I ask, daughter of mine."

It was still so strange to look at this man and conceptualize him as her father, but the thought had
lost its sting. Whatever he saw in her face now made his smile soften. He cleared his throat and
glanced down at the board. "Your turn."

They continued their game through another pot of tea before Ursa swept onto the balcony, clearly
in distraction. She surveyed the Pai Sho table with raised eyebrows. "Oh, you poor girl," she told
Azula, bending to kiss her cheek. "Did he make you try that awful tea too?"

"Azula described it as the taste of old bathwater from a Fire Nation warship," Iroh replied.

Ursa kept her hand on Azula's shoulder and watched them place a few pieces. Azula waited for her
mother to snitch her sleeve ties, but the attack never came. Instead, Ursa asked, "Azula, can you do
me a favor?"

"If that favor involves wedding decorations, no." She didn't bother to look up as she said it.

Ursa sighed; surprisingly, she gave up without protest. "I suppose I wouldn't want a giant gory
dragon painting put up behind the wedding dais. Iroh, don't forget about your meeting with the
Earth Kingdom ambassador."

Iroh was frowning intently at the Pai Sho board. "He can wait."

"Have fun then." Ursa bent to give him a kiss on his bald pate.

"Obviously I'm having the time of my life." Azula said sarcastically.

Ursa laughed as she swept off of the balcony with as much energy as she'd entered it. No doubt she
heard Iroh place his last piece and say, "I win!"

At least Azula had come by her joy of winning honestly.

Several days later, Azula took a palanquin to Tazu's household for her first meeting with the self-
proclaimed rebels. The servants waiting in Tazu's courtyard bowed deeply to her as she stepped out
into the hot afternoon air. She wore slightly modified armor with an elegant silk over-tunic and
formal swords that were more decoration than combat weapons. With her current garb, it was easy
to take a breath of dignity and hold it within her to expand her presence.

Tazu stood in his courtyard, sweating in the afternoon sun. He was wearing his best silk,
embroidered with thread that was probably made from actual gold. It didn't make him look any less
like a ferret. He put one knee on the ground—covered with clean cloth in preparation for his
prostration—and lowered his head. "Princess Azula, your visit is an incredible honor for my
household."

"Get up," she muttered disdainfully, flicking her wrist. "Take me to them."

He wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and bowed twice more. "Forgive me for asking,
Princess…" He stuttered when he saw her baleful look. "What excuse should I use when I'm asked
why we meet?"

She curled her lip in disdain. "If you can't solve that problem without my input, I hardly have faith
in your ability to plan a coup."

He gulped and bowed twice more. He was going to make himself dizzy. "My apologies, Princess,
of course."

They walked through an elaborately decorated corridor and into a wide dining room that had been
cleared for this meeting. There were two low tables at which some dozen men knelt; they faced the
center of the room with their backs to the walls. Some men drank tea; some drank alcohol. It was a
spacious enough room that their conversation was muted. Curtains had been arranged around a
table at the head of the room—for her, no doubt.

"If we may eat first, Fire Lord," Tazu suggested, still pale from their last exchange.

Azula raised one eyebrow, glancing down at him. His throat bobbed. A servant rushed forward to
arrange her spot at the small table at the head of the room. She ignored the food and motioned for
the servant to taste her drink.

"You fear poison in this household, Princess?" one of the noblemen asked with a laugh.

He was young Lam, from a relatively new noble family that had seized its position in the wake of
Ozai's appointment as Fire Lord. He wore his hair in a short topknot and was clean shaven in the
newest fashion. This man was the eldest grandson of the Lam who had groveled in front of Ozai.
Azula actually remembered that meeting from her childhood: Old Lam, bowed so low his knees
pinched his wispy beard, shoulders trembling, gasping supplications in a musical, high tenor. And
Ozai, his exact opposite, lording down upon the man from his orange-fire throne, voice dark and
rough.

She lifted her eyes and met Lam's gaze dourly until he glanced away in discomfort.

After a few minutes, the servant had not died, and she deigned to sip her tea. Tazu cleared his
throat, his finger darted, and a door to the room slid open. As Azula had commanded, Tazu's
youngest daughter eased into the room. She wore a black silk dress with gold trim, and her black
hair was a straight glossy curtain down her back. The woman stood by Azula's table and bowed,
waiting.
Azula motioned.

Tazu's daughter gracefully took the seat next to Azula, her eyes downcast. The expression on her
face ruined whatever humility she tried to communicate with her posture. She was pretty,
surprisingly so coming from such a ferrety father. After seeing her face, Azula pinned down her
memory of this girl who had shared her classes at the Royal Academy for Girls. Tazu's daughter
was as vapid as she was silly.

"Laza, was it?"

"My Lord, I'm flattered you remember my name." She giggled behind her hand disgustingly. Her
nails were unfashionably short, but they were polished red. Interesting.

"What I remember is that you incorrectly recalled my great-grandfather's conquest of Air Nomad
forces during the twenty-third recorded pass of Sozin's Comet."

Laza's mouth closed, and she gave her first real expression: discomfiture. Azula had always taken
some pleasure in upsetting pretty, soft girls. She continued, "I also remember you were lazy and
unpracticed during your bending lessons at the academy, despite what seemed to be fair talent for
it." It was a great waste that Azula could hate so easily.

Laza gathered herself, batting her eyelashes coyly. "My Lord. If I had realized I might vie for a
place with you, I would have dedicated my life to those ventures you deem important." She
punctuated her statement with a silly giggle.

Azula stared down her nose at the woman sitting next to her. "I'm sure," she replied
contemptuously. She dismissed Laza from her mind and turned her thoughts to more important
matters. She stood up and walked to the center of the room, her hands clasped behind her back. The
men shifted to sit at attention.

"Whose idea was it to start this little rebellion?"

There was a quiet murmur. Tazu cleared his throat. "Fire Lord, it was a culmination of most of us
in this room."

She walked slowly down one table then back along the other. She met the eyes of every man
sitting in the room. As she did, she ticked off their names in her mind, tracing their histories. A few
were affluent in Ozai's reign, several prominent from Azulon, and one was an old family that was
at the height of their power during Sozin's reign. A few younger men were from trade families. She
was certain that not one of these men had ever fought in a single battle. In moments like these, she
wished Zuko hadn't abolished the law that had required men and women to serve in the military to
earn the right to vote on political matters.

"Who was in charge of sending me the letters?"

One of the youngest men stood up and spoke; his voice was loud, but he stuttered in nervousness.
"It was I, Princess."

She flicked her eyes up and down his body. He was the youngest Lam grandchild, she realized. He
was more handsome than his elder brother though he was also clean shaven with a short topknot.
Maybe he was easier to look at because he had a childish guilelessness about him instead of his
older brother's slimy condescension. He would serve her purposes well and maybe live to thank her
later.

"And you decided to use black wax?"

His amber eyes were wide with earnestness. "Yes, my Lord."

"This is my first lesson of the day."

Azula rocked forward on the ball of her left foot and hit him across the jaw. He went down, and
she stepped over the table to follow him to the floor, landing blow after blow until his face was a
mess of blood and he no longer raised his hands to protect himself.

If the boy had been as condescending as his older brother, she would have killed him instead.

He gave a low moan as she stood. She shook her hands. She'd cut one knuckle on his teeth, and
several others had lost skin. The entire room was eerily silent—the elder Lam brother was pale but
otherwise unaffected—as she walked over to the washbasin and dipped her hands in rose water. A
servant—his head level with his crotch—cowered in his bow, offering a towel. She wiped her
hands dry, frowning at the bruises on her knuckles and the streak of blood she left on the white
towel.

Her voice was calm. "Fire Nation is two words, not one; Fire Lord is also two words, not one. Get
him out of my sight. When he wakes up, tell him I don't want to see his face again."

Two servants quickly pulled the beaten boy out of the room.

She walked back to the middle of the room and turned on one heel, surveying the shock on the
faces of the men around her. They hadn't expected her violence; they hadn't expected her
dominance. Now they would know that her threats weren't empty.

"I should expose you to my brother and have you all hanged like thieves. Your incompetence so far
has me shocked you have not already been discovered.

"My second lesson, men: black wax on a sealed scroll sent to me by an anonymous noble servant.
Black wax sealing a scroll sent to me at the Royal Palace. Do you think no servants whispered to
each other about what an unsigned, black wax sealed letter was doing coming to me? Those
servants are my brother's. Do you think he doesn't know I received that scroll? Just when I gained
his trust, you may well have compromised what took years to achieve.

"Why did none of you incompetent fools consider it was far less likely to draw attention with an
invitation to take tea and meet your daughters or sisters? Why not ask your daughters or sisters—
who doubtlessly attended Royal Academy with me—to invite me for an afternoon meeting? How
stupid are you fools?"

Tazu quailed. "My Lord—"

"Not a word!" she commanded. "You asked me here, but make no mistake. I am here not by your
request. I am here because I decided I am ready to lead this coup. I am in charge. We will meet
discreetly, at a time I choose, and we will discuss what I deem is important. Is that clear?"

Tazu fell prostrate; beside him, his daughter gave a more graceful bow. The other men in the room
were more reserved, but they slid forward into full seated bows. Lam, however, snorted
disdainfully. He looked away from where the servants had pulled his groaning younger brother
from the room and met her eyes. "What can you do against us, Lady?"

Azula bared her teeth in a fierce smile. She crouched to face him and reached out to chuck his chin,
drawing an unconscious flinch then an outraged stare. She seized his jaw in her hand and yanked
his head up so he would look in her eyes.
"I'm glad you asked, Lam. Now that I know all of you, I can so easily give you to my brother and
advance my own place within his household. I will do that if I have one doubt about the viability of
the planned coup." She heaved a sigh and adopted a wistful tone, yanking Lam's head sideways
with her gesture. "Or I could just take your necks from your shoulders and present your heads to
him. Right now, I'm more inclined to the latter option."

She patted his cheek as his proud eyes lowered in submission. Slowly, Lam settled into a bow in
front of her. Azula smiled wickedly. "So I would suggest you do everything in your power to make
sure this plot works. Good day, noblemen."

It was a lovely evening. Rare soft clouds overshadowed the bright evening sun, and a cool breeze
swept up from the far bay to flow over her private balcony. Azula considered the line of buildings
that radiated out from the palace walls. This was her capital; this was her kingdom. Yet she couldn't
protect it.

No flames. No rule.

Katara's fingertips brushed her ear. Azula turned her head, but Katara only met her eyes with a soft
smile. Katara asked her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose that's what's wrong. I'm inherently
confused by the lack of melodramatic conflict in my life."

"That…thing you're doing sounds like conflict."

She appreciated that Katara was discreet. "Internal conflict," Azula specified, serious despite
herself. "I just wish…"

She stopped herself from what she'd been about to say.

"Just wish what?"

Azula shook her head, vaguely imagining the ocean that existed beyond the great crater of the city
and the lands beyond that. She imagined Katara without obligations outside of the Fire Nation, a
child begot between them. She imagined herself commanding blue flames again, sitting on the
throne. And with a mental scoff, she pictured a great blue dragon flying about with a purple
platypus bear perched on its back.

She was disgustingly maudlin, dreaming about impossibilities. She explained it with a common
idiom: "I'm only chasing dragons." She studied Katara for a moment, trying to etch into her
memory the curve of her cheek and the line of her brow. Katara had just arrived, and already Azula
worried about when she would leave again. "How long can you stay?"

"Six more weeks. Maybe a few more."

She'd be gone far longer than she would be here, with Azula. Her thoughts must have shown on her
face because Katara looked at her in evident disappointment. It wasn't the first time this had been a
conflict between them. Her voice reflected that when she said, "I have to go back, Azula. You
know that."

Azula got up with the intention of walking away. She couldn't have this discussion again, not when
it was like talking to a wall...not when she knew she risked losing Katara if she demanded her to
stay.
Katara snatched at her hand and gasped in alarm. "What happened to you?" She was staring at
Azula's bruised and cut knuckles.

"Subterfuge isn't all fun and games."

"Did you hurt someone?"

The sharp accusation in Katara's blue eyes startled Azula. She supposed she should have been
complimented that Katara would assume she would be the one to bring pain, not take it. Instead,
she was defensive. "Life isn't black and white, Katara. I may have saved a boy's life today with the
violence you so disdain."

"There are always other ways!"

"Save me your morality lesson," Azula snapped, turning away.

"Where are you going?!"

"The archives."

Katara got to her feet and stomped after Azula. "You can't just run away whenever something
happens that you don't like! I'm different from you. I have a life at the South Pole. I teach there; I
have friends there. My family's there. They need me! You're the only reason I'm here at all!"

Azula stopped within their suite, surprised the argument had gone back on its first thread. If Katara
insisted on a fight, she would be damned if they would go out in the hallway for all the servants to
hear.

She still smarted over the insult she'd taken from Katara's condescending view of her morality, and
her voice reflected that. "If it's such a burden, then go back to your Avatar or find some nice
pacifist Water Tribe girl to make a life with on that frozen iceberg."

Katara reeled back as if she'd been slapped. "Is that what you want?"

"You don't seem to particularly care about what I want."

Now came the anger. Katara's eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and she was absolutely beautiful
even as she stirred up Azula's temper like no one else could. Katara's voice raised into a shout. "I
don't care?! How dare you! I take time out of my life to be with you, and when I do, I have to put
up with people acting like I'm some dirty little secret. Like I'm some kind of whore!"

And just like that Azula was stunned into a full stop. Her anger bled from her when she processed
what Katara had said. This she hadn't expected, not at all. "When have you ever given a thought to
the ignorance of other people?"

The line of Katara's shoulders softened at Azula's tone, but her voice was still flavored by anger. "I
know it's not true, but they don't. I can't keep doing this. I feel like I'm doing something wrong
every time someone sees us together. It makes me feel like a slave." She shook her head and
repeated, "I can't keep doing this."

Those words sapped every bit of anger Azula had drawn around herself in self-defense. This was an
ultimatum, wasn't it? Her next question slipped out without thought, and her voice was flat on
delivery. "Are you leaving me then?"

"I just want people to stop thinking I'm something you're ashamed of." Katara's expression
softened yet she looked stricken.

Azula didn't know how to interpret that look. Her legs turned to water, and she sat down on the bed
and tried to grasp a way to right this wrong. "Then you want a consortium? I didn't think…"

"Didn't think what?" Katara asked as she sat down beside Azula.

"I didn't think you would want that." She'd assumed any gesture of possession would be taken as an
insult. A consortium was ownership in a way, and Katara had peculiar pride. She said, "I can do
that…if it's something that you want."

"What do you want?"

It made her angry that Katara had to ask. "I want you!"

Katara studied her soberly and then offered up her tender smile and soothing touch. "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean that to sound like I was going to break up with you. It just... It bothers me a lot even
thought I know it shouldn't." She took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry about what I said about…
violence."

Azula gave a half-shrug, knowing that halfhearted attempt was the only apology she would get.
Katara still thought she was right in every situation. It was a part of her that Azula put up with
because she would never have wanted it to change. Though she wasn't ready to forgive the insult,
she was too busy fighting her relief to focus on it. "I was high-handed myself."

"You're always high-handed," Katara said not unkindly. She sighed and rubbed Azula's shoulder.
"Azula, I can't live here. I just can't. Even if I'm your consort…whatever that is."

Azula put her face in her hand, vacillating between wanting to be sick and feeling immense relief.
She had to be sure: "You're not leaving me?"

Katara's grip on her shoulder tightened. "No. I love you. I want to be with you." Her voice
sharpened. "But I don't ever want to hear you accuse me of wanting to be with someone else
because I can't live here."

"I was angry," Azula said in apology. She looked at Katara now and wondered how this woman
could ever think she was less in any way. "You're better than any of them, Katara. They aren't
worth your notice or a single thought."

"I'm not like you, Azula. I can't just turn off my feelings about things."

Azula looked down at the split knuckles that had started this whole argument. "I can arrange the
documentation tomorrow morning."

"Is there a ceremony to this consortium thing?"

"Thankfully not," Azula muttered, imagining how horrible Ursa would be in that situation.

Katara settled closer and took her hand; Azula threaded their fingers together. Katara's voice
seemed so soft after the anger that had colored it only minutes before. "Explain to me what exactly
a consortium is."

"It's a legality. Planning a marriage can take years in this country. In the meantime, the consorts we
of the royal family take will be protected. Any children born will be official heirs; if the Fire Lord
decides to take another wife, he will have to pay a minimum for his consort's living expenses for
her natural lifetime. If the Fire Lord dies before he can marry his consort—or if he never does—
she's owed a minimum from the will of the Fire Lord." As she spoke, her voice gained strength and
began to sound normal again.

"That's pretty progressive. But I don't need your money."

Azula ignored the last statement. "The second female Fire Lord, Yuza, put that into iron-law. It's
considered a human right and cannot be removed or amended from our constitution."

Katara raised her eyebrows. Azula smiled at her ruefully. "Yuza was considered the illegitimate
child of the Fire Lord even though she was his only child and also born from the only woman he
ever shared his bed with. A distant cousin ascended to the throne by law, and she was forced to
challenge him to Agni Kai and kill him to make her own bid.

"In her long rule, she managed to retake all the northeastern islands that were lost to the Northern
Water Tribe for over a century in a military victory enabled in part by her brilliant trade war, but all
anyone remembers her by is the consort-proclamation."

"Thanks for the history lesson," Katara said with a small teasing smile. "So a consortium is
basically a marriage."

"Without the giant feast and decorations and day-long ceremony." Why was she skirting the truth?
How ridiculous that this woman could make her so frightened. Azula took the figurative dragon by
the horns and spelled out the truth. "In the eyes of the law, a consort is a spouse. You would have
every legal right and status as my consort that you would have if we married."

"Do you want me to be your consort?"

"Yes." She gave away a little bit of herself with that word. She wondered if Katara knew that.

Katara sat still for a long moment and looked out the balcony; Azula waited for her answer. When
Katara finally nodded, she did so firmly. She met Azula's eyes and said, "Okay. Yes. I'll be your
consort."

Azula's chest shuddered with her uncontrollable sigh. She hadn't realized until then that she'd been
holding her breath. Katara cupped her cheek, smiled so softly, and kissed her gently. Azula
gathered herself after a moment and managed to swallow the betraying tears that had risen to her
eyes.

In times like these, she knew it was best to say: "I'm sorry we fought."

Katara's response surprised her; she smiled and shook her head. "No you aren't. I'm not either. I
like fighting with you. We seem to solve a lot of problems that way. Sometimes it's even fun."

"It wasn't fun this time."

"No, it wasn't." Katara stroked her cheek and kissed her again. Her eyes flashed in humor. "You
know, a fortune teller once told me I'd marry a powerful bender. I'm starting to think she was the
real thing."

It was a sharp, bitter pain. But Azula smiled through it and thought only of the woman she'd just
kept, not the bending she no longer commanded.

"I'm tired of being cooped up here," Katara complained the next afternoon. She said it even though
she'd been out that morning to check on the pregnancy of a noblewoman in the city. They shared
tea now on the communal balcony over Mai's garden, enjoying the sound of the lavish fountain
there.

"There's a play on." Azula glanced up from her reading with an internal wince at how inane her
statement had been. Clearly this is what Katara was fishing for, but she still couldn't believe she'd
said something that sounded so like Ursa.

She still reveled in relief from the day before and was fiercely triumphant about their signatures on
the consortium license Kota was delivering to the Fire Sages now. In this moment, she was also
glad she'd had the foresight to reserve a box at the theater for the next few weeks in case Katara
wanted to go. They'd never attended a play in Capital City, but on Ember Island they went at least
once every few weeks.

"What is it?"

She hummed and flicked her fingernails against each other. "Unfortunately, it's actually a good
production. A traditional music-theater piece about a warrior who must choose between his
country and his family."

Katara's curiosity was piqued. "Tragedy?"

"A play about choosing family or the Fire Lord? You can expect buckets of tears, long tortured
soliloquies, and the death of every major protagonist."

That earned a smile. Katara leaned against her hand and directed that smile at Azula. Her wild hair
tumbled over her shoulders in a desperately pretty display. "Is it a formal thing?"

"It can be." Azula sipped her tea even though it had gone cool in the cup.

Katara gently nudged Azula's leg with her foot. "What should we wear?"

"Anything," Azula replied lightly. "You should realize by now that I can wear whatever I want and
no one will think it's wrong. I could show up to a nobleman's birthday celebration in funeral
clothes, and it would just become the next fashion."

Katara took a patented patronizing tone, warning irritation. "And you should know by now that I'm
actually asking what everyone else will be wearing."

"Formal evening wear."

"Then let's dress up."

She didn't have to sound so pleased at the thought. Not that Azula would pass up an opportunity to
see Katara in nice clothing. "Shall we do dinner before? I've never eaten at one of the commercial
kitchens in this district."

Katara raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you planned for this."

"Then I'm exceeding grateful that you know me so well."

Azula stood up and stretched, imaging their evening. She would take Katara out, as her consort.
Katara was Azula's consort. The possessiveness she felt at that self-satisfied thought would
probably anger her lover so Azula held it inside herself for her own comfort. No doubt it would be
an interesting outing.
Katara got up behind her and pulled her into a loose hug. They kissed, and Azula deepened their
kiss.

"Gross. I should not have to see your tongue down my sister's throat."

Katara pulled back from the kiss, but she kept her arms around Azula's shoulders. They both faced
Sokka, who thankfully was alone. Or rather, the Avatar was striding down the corridor in the
opposite direction. Sokka appeared unconcerned. He grinned as Katara retorted, "I've seen you
having sex with Suki. You want to talk about stuff you don't need to see your sibling do?"

He shrugged. "That's why you knock."

Katara faced Azula as she stroked her fingertips across the nape of Azula's neck and curled them
gently through her ponytail. Azula hoped that Sokka couldn't tell how much the touch was
affecting her. Katara spoke to her. "I don't know why I have to knock when I'm walking out of the
house."

Sokka replied with a grin and a big shrug. "What can I say? I'm a versatile man."

"At the South Pole?" Azula was startled at the thought.

Sokka and Katara burst into laughter. "No, Kyoshi Island, doofus," Katara finally gasped.

She didn't know when this had happened. Katara would be angry if Azula was jealous over the
time she spent visiting her brother. She took a breath and let it go. Azula patted Katara's hip and
released her, remembering Katara's earlier request. She spoke to Sokka. "Your sister tells me you're
a swordsman. Would you like to spar?"

Soka frowned. "Just so you know, if you maim me Katara will totally break up with you. And if
you kill me. You know that, right?"

"I'm quite aware. At least until you father a few children."

"That's not much incentive to have kids," Sokka muttered.

Katara was quick to retort, "Like you need incentive to fall into bed with Suki."

Sokka turned to Azula and spoke behind his hand in a faux whisper. "Aren't you lucky it runs in
the family? Yeow!" He stepped away from Katara before she could smack him again. "Just let me
know when you want me to give you a few pointers about thrusting a sword—Ow! Okay, I swear I
didn't mean that like it sounded."

Katara raised a threatening fist, and Sokka took off down the hall at a run. Azula sighed as she
watched her lover…consort race after him. Their laughter echoed down a corridor that had seen
precious little of any kind of happiness in the years of Azula's childhood. She liked it better now.

Katara refused to let Azula see her before she'd dressed. Silly, but Azula didn't mind humoring her
wishes.

Azula's servants dressed her in a new fashion she'd in part started: trousers and an embroidered silk
tabard tunic. There was no heavy shouldered cloak of the older style, making it lighter and far
more comfortable. She'd worn such a thing at Ember Island for years and was surprised when it
became fashionable throughout Capital Island. Of course, the nobles added embroidery on fine silk
to dress it up.
Azula accepted the hairpiece in her half topknot and slipped her feet into her pointed-toed boots
and waited. "The restaurant knows we're coming?"

"Yes, Princess."

Azula glanced over at Kota. "We're to have a private room."

"It's been arranged."

"And a carriage."

"No carriage. I want to walk." After her demand, Katara stepped into the room. Azula turned to
retort and stilled. Katara wore a red silk dress, and her hair was up in a full topknot with a
traditional woman's hairpiece. Azula wasn't sure how she'd tamed her wavy hair so well. Somehow
the Fire Nation style only enhanced her exoticism, especially with her ever-present Water Tribe
betrothal necklace. She looked lovely.

Katara cocked her head. "Do I pass?"

Azula reached out and took her arm. There was no use in being coy. "You look exquisite."

Her compliment coaxed a blush and shy smile. Azula drew her close and kissed her, delighted she
could still evoke that response. She couldn't wait until they came back tonight and she could strip
Katara out of these clothes, that hairpiece, and find the woman she knew was underneath. Katara
pulled away a laugh. "Don't ruin my makeup! Come on. Let's go before you change your mind."

The restaurant and theater were only a few blocks away from the palace. The walk was pleasant
despite the heat. There were few pedestrians on the road that flanked the royal palace. Curtains
stirred on the palanquins and carriages that went by, hiding curious eyes. Even with the more lax
formalities of Zuko's reign, it was rare that a member of the royal family walked anywhere in
public.

"I feel like we're being stared at," Katara said after a moment.

"We are."

"I don't know how you stand it all the time."

"I don't know anything else. This is why I generally prefer the palanquin or carriage to travel."

Katara squeezed her hand. "Thanks for humoring me. I didn't realize it would be that much
different here than on Ember Island."

"It's a short walk," Azula replied lightly. She changed the subject, watching an alley cat run across
the street. "Tonk brought me the back end of an elephant rat a few weeks ago. She only left a pile
of feathers from a booby for Mom to see during her visit, unfortunately. It's such a fascinating
process watching her consume a rodent whole, bit by bit, and Mom missed out."

"I'm surprised she hunts at all. You keep food down all the time."

"She's turned out to be a vicious little hunter. Lethal and self-sufficient."

"Who sleeps on your bed and sits in your lap and licks your toes."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about her unfortunate licking habit."
Katara giggled. "I never said I wouldn't talk about it. I don't know if it's funnier that she licks your
toes or that you let her do it."

"Hush." Azula gently squeezed Katara's arm.

Katara cocked her head and shot Azula an insolent look. "Make me."

"It wouldn't do to be seen beating my consort in public on our first outing," Azula replied lightly.
Katara laughed and twined their arms together, bumping hips with Azula. Azula had never quite
figured out how her dry sarcasm was so amusing; nevertheless, she was pleased by Katara's
merriment.

The restaurant interior was softly lit, and the scent of food drafted through the air. It was odd to
Azula; it smelled like the royal kitchens, yet it was a formal dining room. There were also many
different self-contained groups of people arranged around tables in various stages of their meals.

Eyes turned towards them as they were led across the dining room to a private hallway by staff.
Azula heard a quiet venomous whisper as they passed one particular table: "I didn't expect the
Princess to bring her concubine out in public."

They settled next to each other at the table in their private room, and the server poured them a
sample of wine. Azula watched Katara taste it, and at Katara's surprised smile, she signaled for a
bottle and reached for her own tea cup.

She wondered if Katara had heard that noblewoman. It was doubtful; Katara was always ready and
willing to respond to racism in any form under any circumstance. By now she would know the
word 'concubine' was the same as 'whore' in the noble world. The noblewoman's words shouldn't
have mattered now, especially not if Katara hadn't heard them, but the smugness of that whisper
itched at the back of Azula's neck, exacerbating the low burn in her chest. So much for Katara's
claim that Azula could turn off her emotions.

After they finished the first dish, Azula placed a kiss to Katara's neck. "I need to use the facilities."

"I'm a little surprised you'd pee in someone else's lavatory," Katara said snidely, her softly painted
lips turned up in a grin.

Azula adopted a dignified tone. "I do not 'pee'. I 'relieve myself'. And do you think there were
lavatories in the Earth Kingdom wilds? If the facilities here are worse than wild brush, then I will
personally shut down this restaurant."

"Go." Katara waved her away with a laugh.

Azula slipped out of the room and down the short hallway into the dining room. Her eyes found
the table that the offending statement had been hissed from. Azula knew each of the three women
sitting there from Royal Academy. They'd shared several classes because Azula had sat in
advanced classes usually reserved for older students.

She walked to the low table where that recognizable voice now spoke. Fala was this woman's
given name; she was married to a well-to-do nobleman. No children had resulted as of yet. She and
her husband were politically ambitious—and she'd just committed political suicide.

Azula sat down next to the woman and slid so close their hips touched. Fala turned, her expression
outraged. She froze when she saw who was sitting beside her. Azula dropped one arm over the
woman's shoulder and drew her close. She cupped the front of Fala's neck in gentle warning, then
met and held Fala's gaze in an expressionless stare.
"I've always found it so fascinating that you nobles whisper just loud enough for everyone to hear
your insults. Maybe because you feel you're above reproach?"

Fala swallowed thickly against her hand. Azula tightened her grip and gave her a sinister smile
even as she kept her voice sweet. "You seem to have forgotten who I am so here's a lesson.

"I am and always will be above you. My consort is and always will be above you." She lowered her
head to meet the noblewoman's eyes again. Fala's expression stretched in horror when Azula used
the word 'consort'. The legality of her claim was deliciously satisfying.

"If I ever hear another disrespectful word from you, Fala, daughter of Jin, I will take your tongue,
which is a gentle punishment when I can legally take your life. Do you understand me?"

Fala nodded weakly, shaking under Azula's arm. Azula flicked her eyes up at the other women,
both of whom were white in the face. They immediately lowered their heads in submissive bows. "I
know you, Tani and Kaila, and I will remember this slight on my honor. I suggest you find a better
friend in the future."

Azula stood, flicking her eyes around the deathly silent dining room. Those who dined didn't
disguise their eavesdropping. They all lowered their faces in seated bows as Azula swept between
them and stepped down the hallway to her private room.

Katara glanced up at her when she sat down in their private room again. "How were the facilities?"

"Passable."

The rest of dinner was pleasant. Private dining was conducive to a few activities—rather extensive
necking—that would not have been permissible during a family dinner. Azula wondered what she
might get away with during the play, especially when Katara polished off the entire bottle of wine
by herself.

Because of that, they took a carriage to the theater. Katara wasn't unsteady, but she didn't protest as
Azula helped her up into the carriage. Katara swept open the curtains to watch the lights of the city
as she settled against Azula's side.

The theater had a private entrance for nobles and royalty, but it was mostly patronized by
commoners—who could and did own homes in Capital City now—who purchased the relatively
cheap floor seats. They'd been to enough of these on Ember Island that Azula knew Katara would
want to walk into the common entrance.

Eyes followed them. The few nobles in the crowded entrance knew better than to stare outright, but
the lower class didn't disguise their curiosity. At least they knew enough to fear her. Immediately,
two theater employees flanked Azula and Katara and led them through the throng of people
loitering before the start of the play.

Once they were seated in their private box, a server brought them bubbly white wine and a platter
of small sweets. Azula declined the alcohol and requested fruit juice. Katara giggled at her fizzing
drink; she watched the bubbles ascend the side of the clear glass of her cup. "How do they get the
bubbles in it?"

Azula wondered if Katara was imagining how to bend them in. She wrapped her fingers around
Katara's hand, gently rubbed Katara's thumb with her own, and tilted the glass just slightly to look
at it. She drew into memory what she'd read about the process once. "The grapes are fermented
twice. The second fermentation is the addition of yeast and rock sugar, which release and dissolve
the gas into the wine. When the cork is opened, the gas is released in bubbles."

"How long does that take?"

Azula recalled the scroll she had read on the process and tried to remember any numbers written.
"A few years, but I'm not certain."

"How do you know so many random things?" Katara pulled her hand free to sip her drink.

"I read."

"I know you read, dork." Katara kissed her cheek. "But how do you remember it all?"

Azula cocked her head, uncertain what Katara was asking and distracted by the scent of her lover.
She shifted her arm across Katara's back and fingered the cloth at Katara's hip. "I read it."

"You remember everything you read?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

Katara laughed for some reason. Azula swept her fingers in a slightly larger caress, but Katara
wiggled. "Stop," she whispered, without any vitriol in her voice. On the contrary, she sounded
pleased.

Azula turned her head and spoke in Katara's ear. "You don't think it's exciting? The thought of
public sex? No one will hear you or see you up here. Even if they did, they wouldn't dare say a
word."

"You're bad," Katara whispered. She let go of her stilling grip on Azula's fingers and continued, "I
want to actually watch this play."

"It won't be nearly as entertaining."

She abruptly realized teasing Katara like this might not be a good idea after the subject of their
argument the day before. Katara didn't seem to draw the connection, but Azula wasn't going to risk
upsetting what had been a lovely evening so far. She dropped a kiss to Katara's neck and returned
her hand to an appropriate place. She did quietly say, "I can't wait to fuck you tonight."

Katara leaned back; her expression indicated she was humoring Azula. "Sure you will, baby. Right
after I fuck you." Katara furrowed her brow and gave a curious smile. "What's got you all worked
up?"

"I was down at Muma District the other day, and I had the most delicious thought of hiring one of
those prostitutes to service you. Can you imagine it?" She turned her head so she could speak
directly into Katara's ear. "I'd order her to devour you, to fuck you, and she would do it. And I
would watch her doing it to you."

"We are not hiring a prostitute," Katara said, though she'd shivered at Azula's suggestion. "I like
the ordering part of it. But I'm going to be the one doing it, Princess. I'll be commanding you."

Azula felt her face heat at the tempting scenario. She'd been in a sexual relationship with Katara
long enough to know what they both enjoyed in bed without being embarrassed by it. Katara batted
her eyelashes innocently even as her fingers traced along the inside of Azula's thigh. "You'll just
have to think about that until we get back."
Despite Katara's words, their mood degenerated into silliness quickly. Katara was tipsy, and Azula
was amused enough to humor that. The musical was in the traditional but extinct Fire Nation
language, and Katara asked Azula to translate.

She could have made it sexy or romantic—or been accurate about the tragic melodramatic lines—
but with Katara as giggly as she was, Azula flat out lied, creating a scenario that the main conflict
of the play involved the particular flatulent habits of the protagonist's family. Of course, the Fire
Lord had much more impressive farts, said when the Fire Lord on stage bent fire in a pretty
display.

Katara was laughing when most of the other women in the audience were crying. "You're better
than the Ember Island Players."

"The indignity of that suggestion!" Azula gasped. "I resent those horrible words."

"You," Katara said with a smile, "Are being very melodramatic."

Azula shared her laughter.

When the server offered another glass of wine, Katara declined. She turned her face into Azula's
neck and kissed her there. "I want to be able to perform tonight."

"You're already drunk, darling," Azula replied lightly.

Katara offered a shy smile at her endearment. "Do you mind? You never drink."

"I don't mind." Azula pulled her closer. "Enjoy yourself."

By the time they returned to the palace, Katara was clearly sleepy. She didn't even protest when
the servants stripped their clothes off. Katara was pliable and relaxed as she slid into bed, and she
beckoned Azula softly. Azula settled over her lover, kissing her gently. "You talk a big game," she
whispered into Katara's ear, her fingers already finding exactly what she wanted.

Katara had no reply in words, but she responded with her body and her low moan. She was rarely
this pliant in bed, and Azula was determined to enjoy her in full. It was going to be a good end to
the night.
 All actions must have opposing reactions

"Have a good night last night?"

Azula reclined in a dusty chair and put her feet on Zuko's desk. She pinched her lips and glared at
the heel of her shoe, which she'd set in a still-wet ink spill. That stain was never going to come out.
"You're such a pig, Zuzu."

"Not my fault you decided to put your feet up on my desk," he retorted. He was in his official Fire
Lord robes, and his hair was neatly arranged. He ruined the powerful effect of his attire when he
slumped into a chair in their 'secret' room and proceeded to put his feet on his desk too. "What's
going on with the rebels?"

Azula scoffed at the thought, remembering ferrety Tazu, entitled Lam, and Tazu's equally stupid
daughter Laza. "'Rebels'? They're a bunch of whining children. Not one of them has ever seen the
battlefield."

"So you've met them." Zuko glanced at her knuckles, which were still scabbed and bruised. Katara
had pointedly not offered to heal them. "And hit someone pretty hard."

"One of the idiot Lam grandsons...whose life I probably saved."

"If he was planning—"

"He's younger than I am and an absolute moron—which stretches my imagination because he's
entitled to a high level of stupidity just for being a nobleman. He was likely drawn into this by his
older brother. If he doesn't make another appearance, I suggest you not pursue him. His family will
support you to save face when you execute one son for treason. If you execute both sons, they will
turn against you."

Zuko frowned, his arms folded. "Fine. If he's out I won't pursue it. But I want you to make sure he
stays loyal."

"Me?" Like she had time to babysit.

"You heard me. It's not like you're going to be doing anything else."

"Aside from putting down a rebellion."

Zuko rolled his eyes and flicked an old writing brush at her. She batted it down with a sneer as he
said, "It's not like it would kill you to sit in on a trade meeting. Or take my place in meetings with
the Water Tribe ambassador."

Azula fingered the name Zuko had carved into the arm of her chair. How childish. She reached out
and for the carving knife on Zuko's desk. "No. How far do you want me to draw this rebellion out?
I know all of them; I'll forward my notes once I've organized them."

Zuko's mouth tightened. "I could have them arrested now."

"Yet you don't seem to want to."

"What would you do if you were me?"

As she considered her answer, she carved two strokes through the 'ko' symbol in the arm of her
chair, rendering it a 'zu'. She gestured with the knife. "With the current political climate…your
nobles need a reminder that you're their Fire Lord. I'd let these dissenters come. I'd make them do it
at a public event. And then I'd crush them in view of the entire nation."

Zuko slowly nodded. "Maybe my wedding."

It was gutsy. Azula liked it. Zuko judged her reaction, and he grinned slowly, mirroring Azula's
expression. He leaned back and changed the subject. "Speaking of weddings… I hear I should
congratulate you."

"News travels quickly."

"You said the word 'consort' in public and couldn't keep your hands off of Katara all night.
Obviously there's going to be some rumors flying around after that." Zuko shook his head. "I would
have never guessed it during the war."

"Imagine my surprise," Azula replied.

"Mom's not too happy."

"And that certainly doesn't surprise me."

Zuko's smile was sympathetic; he'd been dealing with Ursa's disapproval of his consort and soon-
to-be wife for years. "Are you going to start planning a wedding?"

The very idea provoked a shudder. "Absolutely not. Katara's welcome to it, if she wants to deal
with the giant headache otherwise known as our mother."

"You love her," Zuko accused her.

Azula shrugged and stood. She stretched lazily. "I'm going to arrange a meeting with the 'rebels'
and begin hatching our plans for murdering you at your very public wedding. No doubt they'll
think it's an excellent idea."

"Have fun."

There was no doubt about that.

The letter arranging said meeting with Tazu and his cohorts was in Kota's hands by the late
afternoon. As soon as her servant had left the room, Azula turned towards the man who lurked
silently behind the heavy drapes in the corner of her study. She had known he was there since she
sat down several hours before, and she guessed his identity with a rush of heady pleasure.

Now she commanded, "Announce yourself."

The man brushed the drapes aside, looked her in the eye for a long moment, then went on one
proud knee. "As you have commanded, I am here, Princess."

"Alone?"

"No, Princess. I command twenty-two men who are yours, here to serve your wishes."

If it was true, it pleased her immensely. She leaned back in her chair and studied the dust on his
cloak, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sturdiness of his stance. Kota stepped back into the
room and started at the sight of him. She looked to Azula in alarm but was composed enough not to
cry out.

"This is my bodyservant, Kota. Her eyes and ears are mine."

His eyes flicked up to study Kota's face; Kota looked back at him sharply. He intoned, "Yes,
Princess."

Azula motioned to Kota. "A chair for my guest." She addressed the man as he stood. "You've come
just in time. There's much to be done."

Sokka was half an hour late to Azula's summons for their sparring session. She used the time
waiting for him to complete deep breathing meditations. These exercises were the foundation of
firebending; fire was breath as much as it was chi. Her lungs were as full and strong as they'd been
during the war, and her heart pumped in a slow steady beat that all master firebenders hoped to
attain. She was an empty vessel: primed but lacking fuel for her fires.

She took a breath and considered the cycle of techniques she would repeat again after her last futile
attempts: meditating on a lit candle as it burned down its wick; attempting to heatbend from the
natural warmth produced by her diaphragm; sitting in the sun all day and concentrating on its
energy, heat, and light as it arced across the sky.

She saw fire every day. Every flame in every room drew her attention. The flicker and flutter, the
hot burn…it was second nature to her. She knew fire better than she knew herself. Yet it remained
elusive.

She'd not lied to Iroh: she was happy with her life. She just wasn't happy with herself. Her failure to
firebend was insult to injury; it was a bitter, heady reminder of her conduct on the day of Sozin's
Comet. If she could regain her fire, she might finally be able to forgive herself for her deplorable
weakness that day.

Azula realized she'd lost track of her breathing. She'd been meditating on her bitter emotions
instead. She took a deep breath from her belly, gathered all her anger and disappointment, and she
pushed it out with her breath. She did it again, and the ball of nasty emotion was smaller and easier
to push away. Once more, and her emotions settled into something more comfortable. Her skin felt
like her own again, and she could appreciate the strength of her body without focusing on its lack
of chi.

A few minutes later, she heard Sokka approach and stop to stand in front of her. She didn't open
her eyes. He shifted in awkward silence. When she didn't acknowledge him, he said, "Dude, you're
marrying my sister?"

Azula didn't bother to open her eyes. "I am not a dude. You may address me as Azula or Princess."

"Okay then, 'Azula or Princess'. You're marrying my sister?"

It wasn't worth acknowledging his silly insult, especially after his childish snicker.

"A consortium is not a marriage."

"Close enough. This is the part where I threaten you if you break Katara's heart."

Azula opened her eyes to glare at Sokka, who stood in front of her with his arms folded. He
swallowed. "Okay, so obviously you aren't scared of me, but I swear I will figure out a way to be so
annoying you'll just wish I could beat you up."
She got to her feet and drew one of her swords. He stepped back with nervous laughter. "Yeah
right! I'd like to keep my limbs intact, thanks. And Katara would murder me if I hurt you.
Completely lose-lose for me. We're using practice swords. But we're talking about my sister first."
He grimaced. "I'm not really looking forward to it either, but I'm her big brother. It's my duty."

Azula rolled her eyes as she sheathed her sword and set it back on the floor. Thank all spirits in
existence that Zuko didn't share Sokka's belief about his 'duties' as an older brother. She settled
onto her shins in seiza. A family conversation, goodie. She might as well be truthful. "The only
reason I'm here is to make her happy."

Sokka frowned. "I'm not sure if that's sweet or manipulative. Nevermind, it's you so it's definitely
manipulative." He said it so genially that she couldn't take offense to his words. He sighed. "Look,
are you leading her on, or do you plan to stick with her long term?"

Azula glanced down at her hands as she decided if she wanted to answer that question truthfully.
The scab on the middle knuckle of her right hand had begun to peel off on the edge. "I have no
designs on leaving her."

"Well, that's good," Sokka said awkwardly. He was fidgeted for a moment before he sat facing her.
"I'm going to be honest here. I thought Katara was nuts when she first told me about you two. I still
think she's nuts. But she seems happy...a lot happier than when she was with Aang. You've been
together for a few years now."

Five years, but who was counting? "I'm surprised you're not arguing his case."

Sokka rocked back to settle on his backside. His movements were disarming. He still looked like a
gangly teenager, but he could be as graceful as his sister. "Aang's my best friend, but Katara's my
little sister. It's pretty clear they're never going to happen. I want her to be happy, and I know Aang
will get over her eventually." Sokka cleared his throat. "If you do plan to marry my sister, you need
to come to the South Pole, and you need to meet our dad and Gran Gran—er, our grandmother."

Azula studied her fingernails; she needed another coat of polish on them. She tried to adopt a lofty
tone, but her words came out flat. "What does your father think of me?"

"Do you want the truth?"

She fixed him with a disdainful glare. "If I didn't, I would have made up my own lie."

"Point taken. Dad's not exactly happy about you. But you gotta do it if you plan to be with her long
term."

Azula's mouth tightened. "I'll take that into consideration."

Sokka raised his eyebrows, and he nodded in apparent satisfaction. "Okay, big brother duty over.
You don't plan to beat me up now, do you?"

"No doubt Katara will be leaving after the wedding. I plan to enjoy my time with her until then,
which means you're off limits."

"Good. Glad to know my sister's feminine wiles work on you." Sokka got up and offered Azula his
hand. She nearly ignored it, but perhaps she owed him the gesture for being supportive. If she let
herself, she would be in danger of actually liking him.

She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.

And, to her surprise, he taught her a thing or two about sword work. They both came away from
their hour-long sparring session bruised and sweating and knowing a bit more than before. Sokka
proved himself to be as skilled a warrior as his sister was a waterbender. Azula was impressed
despite herself.

"You don't pull any punches," he said, rubbing a swollen bruise on his forearm. "Oof. I haven't
worked that hard since the last time Suki made me put on the Kyoshi uniform. Thanks for not
frying my ass with lightning or setting my hair on fire."

There were many things Azula could say to that as she pictured him in uniform and full makeup.
She went with something a little more politic: "I haven't taken for granted that you've been so
accepting of me."

Sokka glanced over in surprise at her admission. "Like I said, Katara's pretty crazy about you. I
trust her judgment. I doubt she'd be with you if she still thought you were a homicidal maniac." His
smile faded because of whatever he saw in her expression. "That was a terrible joke. Pretend I
didn't say that."

He went so far as to pat her hand. He jerked his hand back at her glare and heaved a sigh. "Even if
you weren't with my sister, what happened back during the war... I figure you were just doing what
you thought was best for the Fire Nation. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to be friends with
Zuko and not accept you. Suki may be hostile, but she's not me." They sat in awkward silence until
he began to laugh. "Oh, man. They got into a fistfight over you once."

That was a surprise. "Who did?"

Sokka grinned at her. His eyes flashed blue, and his teeth were the same straight line as Katara's.
"Katara and Suki got in a fistfight a few years ago. They were literally throwing punches at each
other."

Azula tried to imagine it. Her vision ended with Katara apologizing and healing every bruise and
scrape she'd given.

Sokka continued, "Like I said: she loves you. And I think you love her too." He didn't wait for a
reply, not that she would have given him one. He stood, stretched, and pointed from his eyes and
back at Azula with a mock glare. "My former threat still stands though. You hurt her, and I am so
annoying you to death."

Azula allowed herself to smile. Sokka was so surprised he tripped and fell headlong on his way out
of the training room.

The next day, she worked in her study through breakfast and then donned her armor and ordered a
palanquin ready. As she sat on the shoulders of her servants, Azula filled herself with the ordained
elitism she knew she would need to face Tazu and his cohorts. When she stepped onto the
nobleman's courtyard, she was ready to play her part. She almost anticipated it.

All the men were present and accounted for. Laza, Tazu's coy daughter, was there as well, but she
excused herself after meeting Azula's gaze with a long look. Azula didn't like that she had trouble
interpreting that look...not that it could be of any importance given the woman it had come from.

"We are concerned, Fire Lord."

Azula settled her arms behind her back and cocked her head as she paced along the two tables. She
gave Tazu a direct baleful stare. His eyes went wide, and he fell prostrate. At least the man had a
healthy fear for her.

A few of the seated noblemen regarded her openly, a blatant disrespect. She could guess the reason
why. Young Lam, grandson of Old Lam, was either appointed the dissenters' spokesman or he took
it upon himself. He said, "We think it's inappropriate to place a Fire Lord who has a foreign
consort."

Azula raised one eyebrow and studied the handsome condescending man. "Tell me, Lam, what are
your concerns?"

"She's a foreigner."

Lam was insolent with his response, reclined to one side, making and keeping eye contact. He'd
spoken as if she were a child. She replied in kind. "The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe's
chief. Do you think this country will survive a coup that is not in part supported by a foreign
power?"

If not for maintaining this charade, she would have considered beheading him. It was still a
tempting thought: his neck parting from his shoulders with his blood pumping in time to the dying
beats of his heart. The vision matched the anger that her heart pumped through her veins. How
dare they look down upon her lover, her legal consort?

She made sure they couldn't see the anger on her face. It was beneath her to allow them to stir any
sort of emotion in her, especially in this situation about this matter. The anger simmered in her gut.

Lam had no sense of the danger he had stepped into. He continued his objections. "The Southern
Water Tribe is minimal. They are nothing. And we worry about the legal responsibilities you hold
for this woman."

"My, but you are a foolish little man." Lam's face twisted in anger, but she continued on airily. "If I
must explain it, then I suppose I can. The Southern Water Tribe holds great sway over the
Northern Water Tribe. In combination with that fact and that my brother is still unpopular with
them, I will be more than welcomed in a deposition. It will be useful, as the Earth Kingdom still
smarts over the ease at which I conquered their greatest city." She adopted a supercilious tone to
mirror his. "Lam, tell me, do you fear this woman will bear me an heir?"

An embarrassed silence encased the room. Azula spun in a slow circle and met all of their eyes,
continuing on her patronizing note. "Am I wrong in assuming you men know the basic facts of
procreation?"

"That doesn't negate the fact that her children—"

"Her children are exempt from vying for the throne. My children will be my heirs and the heirs to
the throne." Azula could barely stomach what she'd just said. She took on the tone of Royal
Command. "This will not be discussed again. Do you understand?"

Ferrety Tazu nodded his head against the floor. For this entire conversation, he'd kept his head
down. He probably had an imprint of the floor on his polished forehead. His thin hands trembled.
"Yes, Fire Lord."

"I don't—"

"We will not discuss this again!" Tazu snapped, cutting off Lam's protest. That raised her respect
for him just slightly above negligible.
Azula chose a seat next to Tazu, enjoying his palpable discomfort. Her anger still simmered close
to the surface, and he seemed to sense that. She put her hand to his trembling shoulder and adopted
a lighter tone. "Now, on to business. What plans do you have right now to physically usurp my
brother?"

As it turned out, 'detailed plans' was an exaggeration. It was going to be a challenge to get this
group ready in time for Zuko's wedding. Simpler might be better, all things considered: hidden
daggers had always been classic. It would give her more time to make her own preparations. No
doubt they would trust all repercussions after Zuko's death to her.

Repercussions like the certain decline in their foreign investments, the need to retake the military
that was under control of the High General who was fiercely loyal to Zuko, the loss of the Earth
Kingdom's raw rice and grain trades… Et cetera. Ad nauseam. Nothing important.

After they'd laid out their miserable plot, she directed them to something more concrete. "My
brother's wedding is approaching."

"So soon?" Tazu was dismayed.

"Soon?" Azula sneered. He flinched. "Seven years I've been quietly biding my time. Do you think
seven years is 'too soon', Tazu?"

He trembled. "No, my Lord."

She patted his shoulder. "Think before you speak next time you have a silly objection."

There were no more objections from anyone, even condescending Lam. Perhaps they all sensed she
wouldn't take another insult lightly. She handled them sharply that day and cowed and angered
most of them by the time their meeting adjourned in the evening.

If she'd been in any less of a dark mood, she would have enjoyed the cleverness required to
carefully sniff out their every secret: what servants knew of the plot, which families might be
involved, the motivations and marriages and alliances therein. Azula carefully catalogued all of
these secrets; she would need to keep them straight to pass the information on to Zuko.

When Azula took her palanquin back to the palace, she felt no relief at leaving the nobles' oily
condescension. Instead her tension multiplied as she strode quickly down the long corridors of the
palace. She knew exactly where she would go and what she would do there. She wanted Katara.
She wanted to see her and touch her and erase every insult and condescension from her mind—
erase her own dismissive words during that meeting. Her need sat in an ugly, tight ball in her gut.

She strode into her suite, startling her majordomo enough to provoke a yelp. Katara was in their
sitting room as she'd promised. She'd taken one look at Azula leaving that afternoon in her armor
and said she'd wait for her—as if Azula was ever in any danger.

Azula glanced at the cards on the table and the servants sitting across from her lover. Usually she
felt vague discomfort that Katara treated them as friends, not staff. Now she had no spare emotional
energy to think of it. Her eyes focused on Katara. Whatever her expression was, it caused the
servants to quickly vacate the room.

Katara's eyes widened. She stood up as Azula approached, and Azula seized her and pulled her in
for a hard kiss that she dictated. She wanted this woman desperately, and she would have her here
and now. She would take what she wanted now.

Katara made a noise of surprise against Azula's lips, and Azula pushed her backwards until they
both hit the wall. She tore open the neck of Katara's tunic and bent to kiss her there.

"Not in the sitting room," Katara said with a laugh. Azula sneered in displeasure. She wasn't
willing to wait. She bit Katara's bare shoulder, provoking a yelp. Azula yanked Katara's trousers
down and palmed her sex roughly. Azula hissed in pleasure as Katara's hands tightened painfully in
her hair.

"Oh," Katara said, shivering at her touch.

Azula used her other arm to lift Katara against her body, and Katara wrapped her legs around
Azula's waist, finally caught up in the frenzy that had seized Azula. Azula wasted no time to push
inside her lover. She was rough, and she took what she wanted fiercely.

Katara gasped into her mouth—a sound of pleasure, not pain—and they rocked together frantically.
Each thrust provoked a loud keen from Katara, who was usually so cognizant of servants
overhearing. Azula swallowed some of those cries with a hard kiss. They strained together for long,
desperate minutes. Azula was savagely triumphant when Katara finally jerked against her and
came with a cry.

In the next few moments, they settled into stillness. Azula's gasps softened as she slowly came
back to herself. She realized she'd been grinning fiercely and felt the expression slide from her face.
She carefully withdrew her fingers from Katara's wet heat. Katara's legs released her hips, and
when her feet were back on the ground, Katara nearly fell. Azula held her close to keep her upright.
She hid her face in Katara's hair and replayed what had just happened with growing dismay.

What had she just done?

"Wow," Katara mumbled. "What got into you?"

There was no displeasure in Katara's voice. Azula swallowed before she could speak, and her voice
sounded odd to her own ears. "Did I hurt you?"

Katara shook her head in denial and refastened her trousers. When she pulled Azula into the
bedroom, she winced. "I'm just not used to that." She beckoned Azula to follow her and sat on their
bed. Katara patted the bed beside her. Azula sat. She couldn't bear to return the long kiss that
Katara gave her or respond to her caress.

Katara was surprised by her reluctance. "Baby, what's wrong?"

She tried to conceptualize the strange dark lust that had taken hold of her. All afternoon she'd been
an entitled princess that lorded over noblemen's fear—with all that anger and bitterness that had sat
in her gut since their dismissal of Katara. And then Azula had come back and treated Katara just as
those men assumed she did. She'd brought that princess to the figurative bedroom with Katara. It
was a bitter shame.

Katara was perplexed. She withdrew her intimate massage from Azula's thigh and stroked the
feathery hair of Azula's nape gently, coaxing Azula to meet her eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I lost control."

Katara cupped Azula's face and drew her in for a gentle kiss. "You make me lose control too. Why
in the world are you upset about this?"

Azula couldn't voice the truth: she was afraid she wouldn't have heeded Katara's denial if she'd
given it, not while she was treating her like something she could strip bare and possess wholly.
Somehow, Katara read her thoughts; she looked at Azula in disbelief. "Azula, come on. If I had
said 'no' you would have stopped in a heartbeat. I trust you. You should too."

She needed to be sure: "Did I hurt you?"

"I promise you you didn't. I'm not made of glass." She looked at Azula then with only love and
affection. "We're getting that armor bronzed if that's what caused all this." When her words didn't
provoke a response, she sighed softly. "The only thing you should be feeling guilty about is how
embarrassed I'm going to be about everyone in this apartment knowing exactly what we were
doing."

At that, Azula could only offer a tight smile.

She needed again, but in a very different way. Azula stood up and shucked her armor
unceremoniously. She touched Katara in question. Katara, still looking at her in tender perplexity,
nodded in acceptance; she allowed Azula to undress her and unbraid her hair. Katara breathed
quietly against her as Azula pushed her down onto the bed and gathered her close.

Azula brushed her fingers over the bruises she'd left on Katara's hips and kissed them gently. She
brushed her mouth against Katara's skin, breathing her essence, taking her in, and cataloguing her
every feature to memory.

Katara was water, fluidity and softness and graceful shifts and turns—in her soul and in her body.
Azula saw that in the curve of her hip and the sweep of her breasts and the arch of her collarbone;
she saw it every day in the graceful movements and shifting emotions Katara displayed to the
world so honestly. She was fire, all scorching temper and fierce pride; her desires were always hot,
simmering low and flaring bright in turn. She was earth, stubborn and set in her ways, rock solid in
her moralities, her loyalties, and her loves.

This woman was everything. She deserved to be worshiped. She deserved softness and gentleness
and every pleasure in the world.

Katara accepted Azula's touches and her kisses, and she gasped as Azula's fingers finally slipped
between her legs. This time, Azula was deliberately gentle...until Katara seized her wrist to force
more pressure. "Yes," she whispered, and Azula accepted the gift she was given. There would be
no more taking, not when Katara so freely offered everything she gave to Azula.

Afterwards, Azula quietly said, "I love you."

Katara touched her face. "I know that, doofus," she said gently. She brushed her fingers over
Azula's eyebrows and across her mouth. "Don't feel guilty for wanting me. There's no reason."

"You deserve better."

"I don't really care about what I deserve or not. I want you."

The morning was remarkably hot even as early in the day as it was. Azula sweated like a pig as she
trained in the hot, muggy air. There was some pleasure in it, despite how disgusting she was sure
she smelled. The sweat cooled on her face and soothed her as she settled for her breathing
meditation.

It was no surprise to her when she heard her mother's voice. "What's this I hear about you and
Katara forming a consortium?"
Azula exhaled her last breath; her training was done for the day by that statement. At least she was
cooling down. She opened her eyes, blinked past the stinging sweat that had rolled into one eye,
and looked up at her mother. It didn't surprise her that Ursa had sought her out. Azula had been
using the coup plot to keep herself busy so she could avoid this very conversation.

"It's true."

"And you didn't think to consult your mother about it?"

"I asked the only logical person to ask: my consort."

Ursa heaved an exasperated sigh; her uneasy look belied her words: "I'm happy for you, sweetie. I
had no idea you were serious."

"Why would I waste my time if I weren't?" Azula was stung by her mother's assumption.

Ursa held up her hands in a peace gesture. "You're young so I assumed you weren't ready to settle
down. Katara's the only person you've been with." She hesitated. "She's not here that often."

"It is surprising I'd get it right the first time?" Azula asked. She refused to touch on an issue that
she had yet to work out with Katara. She didn't want her mother to latch onto that unhappiness as
another reason Azula shouldn't be with Katara.

"Don't take that tone with me, missy," Ursa said sharply.

"You've never approved of her," Azula replied just as sharply. She'd let this go far too long.
"There's no one else for me. I've chosen her, and you will accept that. That's my ultimatum to give.
Treat Katara as family because she is."

Ursa's expression tightened in anger through her words. Abruptly, she lost that emotion. Her
shoulders drooped, and she frowned. "I only want you to be happy, Azula. Can you tell me that
she'll give up her life in the South Pole to be your wife?"

"I would never ask that." Because she knew Katara wouldn't choose her. "Just as she would never
ask me to do the same. Leave my relationship to me."

Ursa looked at Azula like she'd never seen her before. "You and your brother are far more alike
than you realize." What that meant, Azula could only guess. Had Zuzu put his foot down his
mommy's treatment of Mai? Ursa's lips pinched as she conceded, "I'll try to be more accepting. I
still want to have lunch with you and Katara. We'll go out and have a nice meal this afternoon."

"Do we have a choice in this matter?"

"No."

Azula got up with a sigh. Ursa held out her arms, and Azula dutifully stepped into them for a hug
and kiss. Ursa said, "I promise I'll try to be happy for you, but you can't ask me to stop worrying
about you. I love you, sweetie."

Dutifully, she recited, "I love you too, Mom."

Ursa untied her sleeves.

Azula broke the news about their forced dinner plans to Katara late that morning. It was the first
time they were alone together that day. "Okay," Katara said a little dubiously. "But I promised I'd
give private waterbending lessons to the ambassador's kids this afternoon."

"Come whatever time you can," Azula said. She was momentarily distracted as she watched Iroh
and Mai wander through Ursa's garden together. They were in conference. Azula had a hard time
imagining that conversation. Was Mai actually smiling? She shook herself and turned back to
Katara. "But take a palanquin."

"I can walk."

"As my consort, you need some measure of safety. It would look irresponsible of me not to provide
transportation for you." Azula saw that Katara didn't want to change her mind. She said a word she
hated to use outside of sex: "Please."

Katara hesitated, then she heaved a sigh. "Okay, fine. I want a carriage though, not a palanquin. I'd
feel weird getting carried around."

"That's acceptable."

Katara rolled her eyes and mimicked Azula. "'That's acceptable.' I'll show you acceptable." She
gave a threatening look only to clamber into Azula's lap. As if Azula would protest that. "By the
way, thanks for not killing my brother."

Azula sipped her tea. She slipped an arm around Katara's back to keep her where she was.
"Shockingly, he was helpful. If you tell him I said that, I'll deny it to my dying breath."

"Don't worry. He has a big enough head as it is." She hesitated. "Did he say anything about our,
um, consortium?"

"He said he would annoy me to death if I broke your heart," Azula replied lightly. "I believe he has
that ability."

Katara giggled at that.

"Katara…" Katara looked at her in question. "I'm sorry for yesterday."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Stop it with the angst." Katara kissed her gently. "Do you
really think I'd put up with you doing something I didn't want?" Katara raised an eyebrow as Azula
considered the chances. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

Katara left soon after, but Azula had plenty to keep herself occupied with before her mother would
find her for their dinner.

Ever dependable Kota provided her with a concise report about the families of all the men involved
in the coup. Predictably, most of them had been targeted by Zuko's raised taxation protocol. Many
of them sidestepped these taxes by putting more of their money in investments in the Earth
Kingdom—which offered a huge tax decrease in comparison to the Fire Nation.

They spent much of their time tracing the complicated intertwined relationships between all the
houses. Kota's neat script labeled family trees until they had a mess of family names on a long
sheet of parchment. It was all shockingly incestuous now that Azula saw it on paper.

"No wonder they're all fools. They've been inbreeding for ages."

There was one bit of information Azula couldn't gain from the meetings she'd had with the rebels
so far. She'd always arrived after they were all settled and ready. If these men had been having
secret meetings before her involvement, why had Zuko not realized it? Kota had the assignment of
watching for the arrival of Tazu's crew. "Did you see how they arrived at Tazu's estate?"

"There was no sign of the men entering or exiting the household."

"But they were seen out and about later in the day?"

"Yes, Princess."

It was something she would have to assign to another set of servants altogether to investigate. They
were otherwise occupied at the moment. It wasn't as of yet important; she would sit on it for a
while. Perhaps Tazu could be persuaded to give up his secret. "Underground passage, perhaps?"

"I checked the old architecture notes of the estate; if there is something like that, it was added in
secret."

Kota's foresight pleased her. It was a comfort to have an intelligent servant. Azula leaned back and
pursed her lips as she once again studied the complicated intertwining family trees on the desk.
They discussed the rumors floating around about each family before Kota stated Ursa would be
arriving within the half hour. Azula left her servant to clean up their notes so that the evidence of
their afternoon wouldn't be visible to Ursa.

Azula didn't worry about changing her clothes; Katara had been in her usual casual garb when she
left. Ursa frowned at Azula's trousers and tunic, but she didn't say anything. She did, however,
untie Azula's sleeves for the second time that day.

"It's a nice day. Let's walk."

Azula sighed, giving her sleeves up for a lost cause. They were wide and heavy and easily
exceeded the length of her fingers. "What is it with all this fascination for walking?"

"Is Katara coming?" Ursa asked with some shortness.

Azula gave her mother a warning glance. "She had a prior appointment. She'll arrive later."

They walked side-by-side in silence as they made their way out to the streets beyond the palace
towards the restaurant that Ursa had chosen. Azula had no doubt her servants would direct Katara
to the appropriate place.

It was quiet this time of day. One carriage rolled by them but the street was otherwise unoccupied.
Azula glanced down one alley and across the street, feeling vaguely cautious.

"It's a lovely day today." Ursa tried to fill their silence.

Azula swept her eyes down the empty street again. Something felt wrong. She'd never doubted her
instincts, and now she went on alert. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard the
faint sounds of running footsteps above. She reached for the dagger she kept at her waist.

Then came the smell of ozone and sulfur, of firebending. She realized the smell reminded her
sharply of Ozai; it invoked an emotional response that nearly made her freeze. Azula reached out
for her mother's arm.

"Azula, I said I'd try. Stop it with the silent treatm—"

Fire came at her from above, and she shoved Ursa into the road and rolled away in the other
direction. The attacker landed on the sweep of his own fire. A second assault blew down towards
Azula from a second firebender standing on the neighboring roof. She needed to get out to the
street, not stand by these flammable walls.

Azula rolled in a practiced move. The first man landed hard on his back when she swept his legs
out from under him. The second leapt towards Ursa, and Azula bounded to her feet. Was this an
attack on her mother?! The first was back on his feet and seized Azula from behind before she
could intervene. She lifted her dagger, but he disarmed her and it skittered away. She brought her
knee into his vulnerable gut and seized his hair to drive her thumb into his eye. He let her go with a
yelp.

She tackled the second man to stop his firebending attack on Ursa. They went down in a heap and
wrestled briefly. He managed to get her on her back. She lifted her hands to protect her face from
the blow she knew would come, but something distracted him from behind. The man shifted over
her—his knee twisted into her hip—and kicked behind him. Had Ursa attacked him? Azula threw
her hips and rolled to put her knee in his face. His nose broke beneath her kneecap. The swath of
fire he kicked out was broken by Ursa with a clumsy bending technique.

"Get away!" Azula snarled at her mother. Ursa was a distraction; she was a worry. Azula had never
had to protect someone during a fight before.

Azula keyed on her dagger and snatched it up. She tried to adjust her grip; her long sleeve had
caught up between her hand and her dagger. Both men were focused on her now, which was a
small victory. The first launched a novice fire attack before she managed to adjust her grip. She
rolled forward into close range. The flame missed her. She stepped into his body and pushed out of
her crouch to slice his neck with her dagger. It slipped out of the slick silk in her hand before she
could finish the blow. He flinched away and grabbed his throat, but she'd only clipped one side of
his neck.

She realized her mistake in using the dagger in the first place. She should have just used her fist
and broken his larynx.

The second man came at her immediately, bleeding from his now-crooked nose. She anticipated
his fire and spun sideways. She seized his wrist, wrenched him down into a weak stance, boxed his
ear, and executed a sharp kick to his extended knee. The cartilage and ligaments popped and he
crumpled. His nasal scream was cut off as she kicked him in the head and broke his neck.

The other man shouted, "Bitch!" behind her. She turned instinctively. He had her dagger, and he
scored a hit that sliced like fire between her ribs. She felt the blade grind against bone; the
sensation was disturbing.

He swung at her again, but he was careless now that he relied on a weapon instead of his bending
—as she had been too. His attack was haphazard, and she easily caught his wrist, changed the
momentum of his swing, and broke his arm. He gasped and his resulting exhalation was a burst of
red fire. Azula swept her arm up in pure instinct. She didn't break his fire or control it as her own,
but she saved her face from it. The flame set Azula's sleeve and arm alight. He took that
opportunity to spin and run.

As if she would stop to put out the fire before she killed him. Fool. Azula picked up her dagger,
ignored the fire that was peeling away the skin on her arm, and balanced the blade in her fingers.
She threw it.

It pithed him, and he crumpled like a doll.

Ursa was there, wrapping her outer robe around Azula's burning arm to snuff the flame. It was a
reprieve; with it came the pain of her injuries. Azula put a hand to her waist and confirmed the
stickiness of blood against her side. She wiped her hand quickly on her black tunic before her
mother could see.

Her ears rang as she asked her mother, "Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm not." Ursa's eyes were brilliant amber against her pale face. She looked like she was
going to faint. "Azula, oh, are you hurt?"

"I want my knife," she said. She flicked her eyes across the rooftops and walls along the road but
saw no other movement, aside from a few gawkers in the distance. This was not the time for her
mother to break down. Ursa seemed to realize it. She gathered herself and said, "I'll get it. I'll get it
for you. Sit down; don't move."

"This isn't the way I'd planned to skip dinner," Azula muttered. She stilled her mother. "I'll get it.
Don't bother with it."

"I've seen dead bodies before, Azula." As pale as she was, she still managed to look insulted. "Sit. I
see guards coming."

Guards… In all this, Azula had never once considered signaling for support. She wondered at that,
not sure if she felt foolish or prideful. As handicapped as she was—she so desperately hated
thinking of herself as that—she'd won.

Ursa was back a moment later with Azula's dagger wrapped delicately in a handkerchief. It was wet
with bright blood and flecks of pale tissue that looked like fat. Brain matter, perhaps. The blade
hadn't chipped on the man's spine or skull, thankfully.

It was a pretty bauble, wasn't it? But when it came down to a battle, Ozai had been right: there was
no better weapon than her own body. Azula had assumed that without firebending she would need
something else to fill the gap. She'd completely taken for granted her own body. Without the
dagger to take her attention away from the fight, she was certain she would have defeated both men
without injury to herself. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Please sit down!"

"I refuse to sit in the street," Azula replied evenly. She unwrapped Ursa's robe from her arm and
threw it over a patch of flame that had begun to spread across a wicker accent on the building
beside them. There was nothing she could do about the flame that was gradually spreading across
the roof of the building.

With the close proximity of all the buildings and the fact that the majority of them were made with
flammable construction materials, a fire could conceivably wipe out the entire district if
uncontrolled. She'd once read the theory of an Earth Kingdom scholar that the nobles of the Fire
Nation lived in a ring of 'tinder boxes' outside the Royal Palace because it would allow the Fire
Lord to wipe out his noble subjects with one powerful burst of flame. At the time, the thought had
amused her. It didn't amuse her now.

"I shouldn't have said we'd walk." Ursa looked at Azula's blackened sleeve and oozing skin as they
retreated from the burning building. "I untied your sleeves."

Azula scoffed as she wiped her dagger clean with the handkerchief. "And I should have asked for
an armed escort and worn my armor. Who would have guessed right outside the palace walls this
would happen?" She met and held her mother's gaze. "Please humor my whims on sleeve ties in the
future."

Ursa looked stricken. "I won't make that mistake again. Thank the dragon your father has been on
me to practice my basic fire-breaking katas. I was afraid to firebend out here. Why is everything
made of wood?"

The full escort of armed guards surrounded them, and a contingent of civilian fire-suppressors
quickly set to work on the patches of flame caused by Azula's attackers.

"It was just the two men," Azula told the guards, half her attention on the fire-suppressors. There
was a waterbender in their midst. Interesting. "Send out four men to do a quick sweep, but do not
enter any homes or shops. Use your resources to figure out who these men were and why they
attacked the Honored Mother." A chill passed through her. "Send someone for my consort."

The man in charge saluted. His name was Tomo; Azula remembered him from her childhood. He
was one of the most competent men she'd ever known, hence he'd been commander of the Royal
Guard for years. She'd banished him along with all of his men during Sozin's Comet, but he never
seemed to hold it against her. He took her command now seamlessly. "Yes, Princess. Someone was
sent to inform Lady Katara as soon as we learned of the attack; there has been no report of another
attack. I can arrange for a carriage to take you back to the Palace."

She didn't know why she'd even wasted a worry on Katara. Katara could easily fend off such
unskilled attacks.

"I'll walk." She was having no trouble breathing, which was her main worry. If the wound in her
side had scored deep enough to open her chest, she would already be feeling the effects in her lung.
"I'm sure there are many curious eyes on me right now. I would hate to make the nobles worry."

His lips twitched in a half-smile as he bowed. "As you wish, Princess."

Ursa was not so accommodating, but after only a moment, she reached out and took Azula's
unburned arm to walk back with her. She looked back over her shoulder and sighed in apparent
relief. "The fire's out."

Despite herself, Azula allowed her mother to take a little weight. She sensed the four royal guards
that loosely flanked them for their walk back to the palace gates. "We'll have to reimburse the
owner for his damaged property... What were we talking about before? The weather?"

Ursa's voice was low. "You're bleeding. I saw him cut you."

"It's not serious."

"You don't know that."

"I do," Azula retorted, "As I am still able to walk."

"When did you learn to throw your knife?"

"It's balanced as a throwing knife. I made Mai teach me how to throw during the war, but I relied
solely on my bending then. It's always better to know more in any case."

"Mai can throw knives," Ursa repeated slowly.

"Among her many deadly talents." Azula sighed a little wistfully. "She was such a useful servant."
Ursa shook her head, giving that subject up. "Who could have done this?"

"I have a few ideas."

...like conceited Lam and any one of the conspirators. Why they would attack Ursa she couldn't
guess. Perhaps it had to do with the public education edict that Ursa and Mai were campaigning
for. Or it could be any of the many nobles Azula had insulted and blackmailed in the last few
years. Azula had the humorous thought of stupid, handsome Chan finally deciding to pay her back
for destroying his nana's precious possessions.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of illogical thoughts commoners or nobles had about
the royal family.

Azula didn't know, and it was difficult to put her mind to much but each step past the palace gates.
She'd never been this affected by a fight before, aside from the obvious exception. She's survived
worse than this every day of her childhood. There was no reason to be so unsteady.

"Azula!"

It was Katara rushing through the palace gates, running full tilt towards her. Azula and her mother
turned towards her approach. The royal guards stepped aside in a coordinated move. Katara's eyes
took in her burned sleeve and immediately went towards Azula's bloody side. She drew water into
her hands, and it began to glow.

"Why don't we go inside first?" Azula asked. She raised her hand to stay Katara.

Katara looked at her sharply; her voice shifted into a tone that Azula had never heard her produce.
"Sit down."

Azula sat down on one of the benches that lined the cobblestone path in front of the palace.

"Where is she hurt?" Katara directed her question to Ursa.

"One of those men stabbed her in the chest."

Azula took offense to that. "That is a ludicrous exaggeration."

Katara abruptly placed her hands over Azula's side. Her flesh sealed with a sharp succession of
pinpricks. Azula jerked as Katara's fingers slipped into her tunic to probe the flesh she'd just partly
healed. "I'm sorry," Katara murmured distractedly. "I know you're ticklish; I just want to make
sure…"

"Her arm is burned as well," Ursa said uselessly. Her attention flickered from the glowing water
cradled in Katara's hands to Katara's face.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Mom." Azula's rude comment didn't distract Ursa in the
least.

Katara hissed as she examined Azula's forearm. "This will scar."

"If I had an issue with burn scars, I would have thrown myself off a cliff when I was ten."

"I'm glad you're taking all of this so seriously," Katara muttered. Her brow tightened in
concentration. She caressed Azula's arm with her healing waters and soothed the low-grade heat of
the burn. A new layer of shiny, tender skin covered her forearm after a few moments. Azula found
it within herself to say, "Thank you."

"Don't scare me like that again." Katara pulled her close, and Azula hid her wince in Katara's
shoulder. Though her main injuries were soothed, she was sore from the first real fight she'd had in
almost seven years. "They said you'd been attacked, and I came as fast as I could. What were you
thinking, walking back?!"

"I'd rather the nobles not know I'd been hurt," Azula replied. They might know anyway, with Azula
sitting here on a bench in front of the palace after a waterbender tended to her. "Am I allowed to
stand up and walk into the palace now?"

Thankfully, she was inside her quarters and seated on a comfortable cushion only a few minutes
later. Kota, flushed and nervous, handed her a cup of fruit juice. Azula didn't think anything of
drinking it. She'd finished it before she wondered why her servant still hovered anxiously beside
her.

The world tilted slightly, and her eyes went heavy. She managed to glare at Katara and Ursa and
say, "You made my servant drug me," before she wasn't able to do much more than be led to her
bed and slide into it.

When she woke up, her muscles unfroze all at once with her jolt. The sun was setting, and the bed
was empty next to her. She held in her groan as she sat up. Her side and arm were stiff, and her
muscles felt like iron and didn't want to cooperate. This was what she got for not stretching
appropriately after so much physical exercise.

Azula frowned down at herself. She didn't remember changing into a sleeping robe.

Of course she didn't remember. They'd drugged her. She'd wasted time and hadn't had the chance to
speak to Tomo or her own servants about the attack…and for what reason?

Azula glanced around, but Kota didn't magically materialize like she always did. It was strange to
be completely alone in her own quarters.

A bath was absolutely necessary; she couldn't believe they'd put her in her bed as sweaty and dusty
as she was. Her skin crawled as she imagined how disgusting she was. The bathing chambers were
dark, and she stared at the lamp next to her for a long moment. Once it was no matter to light it and
all the lamps in the room with a sigh. Now…

She turned around, unable to stomach using a match.

"You're awake."

Still irritated about being manhandled that afternoon, Azula brushed by Katara. "I need a bath and
dinner. Kota!"

Kota was immediately within reach.

"Lay my armor out."

"No. Don't do that," Katara interjected. She went so far as to put a staying hand on Kota's arm. Kota
shot a terrified look to Azula, caught between her mistress and the woman her mistress had
commanded her to obey.

Azula was too angry to respond to the desperation she saw in Katara's eyes. "She is my servant, and
she will obey me."
"You're not going anywhere tonight!"

"You have no authority over me."

Katara's eyes narrowed. "No?" she asked, her tone deathly quiet.

Azula refused to be cowed. "Bath, dinner, and my armor."

Kota bowed low, kept her head uncharacteristically ducked, and led Azula to her bathing chambers.
Katara clattered down the steps after them. "Azula! Listen to me!"

She shucked her robe and sat down at the small wooden bench, gingerly wiping away the blood at
her side. She only patted her arm; the skin was tender and paper-thin despite Katara's healing. She
stared for a moment at several heavy locks of hair that were singed short. Kota immediately
brought out her scissors and began to trim away to even the cut.

"Damn it, Azula!" Katara's angry voice was tainted by tears.

"I'm aware someone tried to kill my mother and me, Katara," Azula snapped. "That is why I need to
go out now."

She'd made a mistake in killing both of her attackers; there was no one to question. Now she had to
rule out the dissenters immediately. If they knew she was double-crossing them, they would scatter
to the wind and escape punishment. If not them…it could be any number of people who had a
reason to want Ursa or Azula dead. She would have to assign several men to look into it, a waste of
precious resources.

"Why not tomorrow? What's half a day going to do?"

Stupid question. "It will show I am strong and capable the day of an assassination attempt on my
mother, which I thwarted."

"So will going out tomorrow. What if you walk right into the people who tried to kill you?!"
Katara's voice broke. "I hate this! I hate this country! All this subterfuge and spying and plots and
posturing! Why do you have to be involved with it?!"

That tantrum didn't deserve a response.

"Please, Azula…"

She turned her head, startled by the tears she heard in Katara's voice. Katara slowly sank to her
knees, her face pressed into her hand. Her voice was weak. "Do you think it was because of me?"

Azula's mouth opened, but she had nothing to say for a long moment. "The thought never occurred
to me." Her anger bled away immediately. "No matter if people approve of our relationship or not,
it wouldn't be worth the risk of attacking the royal family."

"It was right after…"

"No, Katara. This has nothing to do with you."

"Please don't go. I need to sleep next to you tonight."

Despite everything—her anger, her determination, her stubbornness—Azula looked into Katara's
eyes and yielded.
Katara held her very close that night while they slept.
 Censure comes in many forms

Azula awoke before dawn to Kota's quiet presence. Katara was already awake beside her, and the
set of her mouth betrayed unhappiness. She said, "You're going."

"I've waited long enough," Azula replied. To her surprise, Katara didn't try to stop her. Maybe it
was a concession to match Azula's the night before.

At the first light of dawn, Azula strode into Tazu's courtyard in full armor. Azula wondered what
the noble chatter might be about her doing so; surely they would connect her armed arrival at their
neighbor's estate with the attack in the street the day before. Tazu would have to think of an
interesting excuse for her visit. Hopefully he would manage.

In her haste, she'd done exactly what she had hoped to do: arrive quickly enough that he was
unprepared to greet her. There was no servant with a sunshade, no clean cloth for his knees during
his supplication. It was a pleasure to watch ferrety Tazu rush out of his house, trip over his undone
robes, and throw himself to his knees in the dust.

"Close the gates."

Tazu's servants rushed to do her bidding without signal from him. Good.

He shook on the ground, his hands raised in fists of supplication as the gates groaned closed. When
Azula heard the heavy crossbeam drop, she used her right hand to draw one of the swords on her
back.

Tazu's head lurched up at the rasp of metal. His face was drawn and pale, and deep bruises showed
beneath his bloodshot eyes. He was close to hyperventilating. "F-F-Fire Lord!"

Azula lifted the blade.

Tazu fell prostrate, flattened to the ground, and began to heave great sobs. "I did not, Princess! I did
not! I've been trying to f-f-find out who did, but I cannot, but it was not one of us. I swear it by the
Spirit of All Fire!"

She believed him. He was too much of a coward to cover for any of his compatriots, and he was
too much of a self-centered weasel not to have checked their every move to be sure he wouldn't be
implicated by them. Of course, he could have made a mistake. She would be less sure if her own
servants hadn't confirmed what Tazu told her now: the conspirators had not ordered the attack.

Azula gently set the tip of her sword on the ground next to his head. She was careful to place it in
the direction that his eyes were turned. He froze at the sight of it. She kept her voice low and
authoritative and reveled in the rush of righteous power that she so rarely experienced anymore. A
small part in her whispered, Katara wouldn't like this. She ignored it.

"If you're lying—whether purposefully or by ignorance—I will have you falling on this sword.
Then I will relieve you of your head."

He began to blubber either at her warning or by the possible pardon in her statement. He drooled a
wet line in the dust of his courtyard. She was surprised and a little disappointed that he hadn't
pissed himself.

Azula tapped the blade gently on the ground just to see him flinch. When she sheathed it, she
settled into a crouch to speak to him intimately. She placed her hand on his bald head, and he
shrank from her touch. "I get the feeling, Tazu, that you expected a quiet, docile little girl when
you contacted me about usurping my brother."

Perhaps they'd heard whispers about her lack of bending, something she now knew was part of the
normal rumor-mill of the nobles. Perhaps they'd drawn their own conclusions about why she
remained so reclusive on Ember Island. She was beginning to realize these men had actually
thought she would be their puppet if they placed her on the throne. They'd made a mistake in more
ways than one.

Azula clucked gently. "I am not that, Tazu. I am a dragon."

He hissed a gasp of terror. Then he pissed himself. Azula gently patted him on his sweating pate
and softened her voice. She'd already made her point, but it bore repeating, "If you make that
mistake again, it will kill you."

She stood and surveyed his courtyard at her leisure, setting her thumbs in her belt. Laza, his coy
daughter, lurked in the back corner of the wooden porch; her painted lips were turned up in the
slightest smile. Azula met her eyes, and Laza lowered her head, not to bow but to sweep her glossy
hair over her face.

Azula glanced back down at the man in the dust. He didn't attempt to rise with her. "I'll be back in
three days. Have everyone here."

She turned and left, wondering if Tazu would pass her warning along or keep it to himself.

Zuko remained unconvinced of her dismissal of Tazu's involvement in the attack. "Aren't they the
most likely ones?"

Azula had anticipated that question. She sipped her tea and wished he'd waited to dismiss the
servants for absolute privacy. She wanted a second helping of rice. Kanzai, rice-in-tea, would have
been a nice finish to her meal.

"It wasn't them."

"Do you have a good reason for believing that?"

Azula set her tea cup down and glanced over the balcony, watching the late morning sunlight
glitter off the metallic plated shingles that many nobles used to accent their houses. She considered
how to answer. "Some of it is instinct. I confronted the man in charge, and he wasn't involved. He
couldn't lie even to save his life."

Zuko frowned across the table at her. "Maybe it was related to Katara then."

It irritated her that it was the automatic assumption. Maybe she was blinded by her involvement;
maybe she just wanted Katara not to have any reason to blame herself. Or maybe Azula's instincts
were right, as they usually were: the only people who would think to attack her over Katara were
the men she'd already excluded.

"As stupid as nobles can prove themselves to be, one wouldn't care enough that I've taken a consort
to risk his own life. It was also obvious to me that those men targeted Mom."

"The fact Katara's a prominent waterbender and the daughter of the Southern Water Tribe's chief
could anger people more than you want to believe," Zuko pointed out soberly. "And it could have
been an attempt on both you and Mom. Or they could have attacked Mom to get your guard down.
You don't know."

"I considered all that, dumb-dumb," Azula replied lightly. She studied the array of fruit on her plate
though she wasn't hungry anymore. "In the event that it was an attack on me, which it wasn't, I'm
not to take the throne nor can she give me half—" The term 'breed' sprang to her lips, but she
couldn't say it, not even about a child that could never exist. "Biracial children. Our heirs couldn't
vie for the throne—"

"There's no fine print of that. Nor any that you won't be Fire Lord. It's not like anyone cares that
Iroh is your dad." He said it without a trace of envy or bitterness. They'd both come a long way on
that front, hadn't they?

"If you'd let me finish," Azula said. Zuko raised his hands and leaned back, pointedly silent. "Our
heirs couldn't vie for the throne because I'm not Fire Lord, and the point at which I may be would
be when your children will be old enough to take the throne."

"Do you want kids?"

Azula stared at her brother, disgusted by his strange question. "Who are you?"

"What?" Zuko's face shifted into an uncharacteristic half-smile. "I was just curious about how that
would work. And Mom's going to want you to have kids so you should go ahead and get used to
fielding the question…and get used to fielding it a lot. Every day a lot."

"I do not want children. They're stupid, loud, destructive, and they take years to housebreak. That's
only the part after I would have to force a baby out of my uterus and vagina, which is the part after
I'd have to carry a parasite in my body for nine months."

Azula watched in morbid fascination as Zuko exhaled tea from his nose in an impressive display.
He coughed violently. When he'd caught his breath, he laughed so hard she thought he might
suffocate himself all over again.

When her brother had finally calmed down, Azula continued, "In the impossible event that I
change my mind, it would be a matter I would discuss with my consort, not my brother or my
mother." She took a dainty sip of tea. "You reminded me a great deal of Toph Bei Fong just then."

"For someone who doesn't want my job, you came pretty close to having to take over." He
pounded his chest with a fist and cleared his throat, still grinning. He sobered after a moment. "So
you don't think the assassination attempt has anything to do with Katara. Wouldn't the only other
possibility be because of the rebellion you're planning—which you also don't think is likely?"

"Once again, it was an attack—"

"You don't know that for sure."

Azula sighed. "For the matter of argument, I'll address that pointless question." Azula refilled her
teacup and poured Zuko the rest. "The attack was only by two men, who were novice firebenders.
They've been identified as street thugs. That suggests a petty displeasure, not that of someone who
has any wish to follow up. I'm sure you've noticed that I have the talent of igniting tempers. All of
these facts point to this being a petty attempt caused by petty anger. Obviously I want to determine
the source of the attack, but I refuse to batten down the hatches and become a recluse out of fear of
another attempt that will probably never come."

Zuko put on a more usual face and frowned at her. "It doesn't feel right. I don't care about your
stupid pride; I want you to tell me if you feel like this conspirator thing is putting you in danger. As
much as I'd like to show the rebels up in public, I'd rather arrest them than you get hurt again."

"But, Zuzu, I'm having far too much fun!" she responded coyly.

"Azula."

She sobered, aware of the sentiment in his request. "I'll keep that in mind, Brother. But I'm telling
you—"

"Sure, it may have been against Mom specifically, but you were there and you were the one who
got hurt."

"I'll be cautious." It was the second time she'd promised it. This time, she actually meant it.

"Let me look at it."

Azula started. She'd been enjoying the cool, rainy breeze that swept into her sitting room and had
accidentally fallen asleep on the settee only to awaken to Katara's command. Azula shifted the
scroll from her lap and blinked up at Katara, who hovered above her with her arms crossed. She
didn't know why Katara wanted her scroll, but in her frame of mine it was instinctual to obey. She
handed it to her lover.

Katara lost some of her apparent indignation as she took the scroll. "You're really cute when you're
just waking up."

What had she done to cause that insulting statement?

"I want to look at your wounds. Not…" Katara cocked her head and studied at the scroll. It was in
the old language of the Fire Nation so she couldn't read it. "What is this?"

Azula couldn't hide her yawn. "Rice cultivation techniques."

"I used to think you were a rebel. Now I know you're just a dork." Katara gave her a look of
exasperated affection.

Azula adopted her most righteous tone. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, reiterating a lie
doesn't make it truth."

"Stop! You're not going to distract me. Let me look at your side."

It had been a full day since the attack. Azula didn't know what else Katara could do. No amount of
good healing could erase the normal tenderness that came with a recent wound. "I'm fine. Your
healing is excellent."

In the next moment, Katara had wrestled Azula's tunic open and pushed it past her side. Katara's
warm hand felt over the vividly bruised flesh along her ribs, and Azula jerked at the sensation of
sharp coolness. Katara's healing gradually soothed what pain she'd caused, but the second healing
left her affected tissues stiff if not closer to a normal color.

"Please give me more warning before doing that." Azula winced as she rubbed her side. She
refused to admit Katara had made a difference; Katara would be insufferable.

"You are the worst patient I've ever treated," Katara mumbled as she untied Azula's sleeve and
dragged it off. Azula gave up and sat half naked, her only modesty her breast support. Katara's cool
healing felt wonderful on the still overheated burn on her arm. After the healing, Katara's fingers
barely stroked over the tender skin on Azula's arm.

Her eyes met and held Azula's in a long moment. She was sober and intent as she said, "Thank you
for staying last night."

It didn't hurt Azula's pride nearly as much as she expected to admit, "You were right. It was better
to leave it until this morning." She brushed a strand of Katara's hair over her ear. She didn't like the
lines of worry on her lover's face, and she could easily guess what was causing them. "It isn't your
fault, Katara."

Katara wouldn't meet her eyes. "I should have gone with you."

"There was no way to know—"

"I was just avoiding your mother—"

Azula framed Katara's honest face in her hands and pressed her thumbs to Katara's mouth. "I wasn't
hurt badly. And you have every reason in the world to want to avoid my mother. I do it all the
time."

The joke didn't garner a smile. "But you couldn't firebend in the district. I asked Zuko about it, and
he said with your flame the whole place would have gone up like tinder. If I had been there, you
wouldn't have been hurt."

Azula had clung so desperately to the secret that she couldn't bend. She didn't want Katara to think
her weak; she didn't want Katara to blame herself; she didn't want pity. What use was it for Katara
to know at all? Yet no matter how she rationalized it, she knew Katara should know. Azula just
couldn't stomach saying those words: 'I can't.'

In the past it had been no matter to lie. Excuses were easy, especially when Katara was gone more
than she was here, especially when Azula was careful not to perform her fireless katas when Katara
was visiting Ember Island.

For her part, Katara rarely asked her about her lack of bending; Azula didn't know if it was because
Katara was ignorant of firebending training or unwilling to talk about a subject that often made
Azula's temper short. She had always pretended her touchiness stemmed from a tangential
reminder of how she'd lost the war, and Katara, apparently guilty for the part she'd played in that,
had let the matter rest. That had been a hot prick of guilt for Azula, but not enough of one to coax
her to tell the truth. It was a lot easier to lie and much easier to lie by omission when there had been
no reason to bring up firebending in the first place.

Now Azula hesitated. "Katara—"

"I would have killed them; I wouldn't have hesitated." Katara's voice was like ice. The tears in her
eyes didn't quite mask her anger. "I wanted to kill them myself when I heard they'd attacked you.
And they hurt you." She shook her head. "It scares me. I've never felt so much anger, not even
about the man who killed my mother."

Azula was careful with her words. "I know you ascribe to a different moral system than I do, but if
a man attacks you or a loved one, his death by your hands is justified."

"It's not the killing, Azula." Katara shook her head. "I'm not a pacifist. It's the anger. I'm angry at
myself."
"You will not blame yourself."

Katara blinked, and her cool tears slipped between Azula's fingers. She offered a wan smile. "It's
just like you to command me to stop feeling something." She leaned close and accepted Azula's
kiss.

"No guilt," Azula said.

"No guilt," Katara affirmed with a shaky sigh.

Azula pulled her closer, and deepened the caress of her mouth. Katara carefully straddled her hips,
accepting her unspoken request. "What about the servants?" she whispered.

"They know not to interrupt."

"We should go to your bedroom."

"Our bedroom. This is our sitting room, and we can do as we like. This is our home." Azula drew
her closer, her hands sliding against the soft skin of Katara's backside. She squeezed, and Katara
softened against her immediately.

It was a soft though desperate union, and the depths of her emotions and her body's reactions
shocked her. They moved together for a long time, enjoying their embrace too much to hurry
towards completion. Azula's orgasm was almost inconsequential except for the fact that Katara
gasped in completion at the knowledge she'd brought Azula such pleasure.

After they'd stilled, Azula held Katara close until her lover relaxed and lay down on top of her. Her
body was a warm, welcome weight. Azula tucked her face into Katara's hair and breathed in her
earthy fragrance: the smell of love and warmth and so many soft emotions that she'd once vowed
never to feel…and here she was, reveling in them.

Katara asked her, "Did I hurt your wounds?"

"No, darling."

After she readjusted the throw over their bodies, Azula stroked her palm across Katara's back. She
wound a coarse curly lock of Katara's hair through her fingers. Lying here, Azula forgot her
obligations, her planning, and the many things she would need to complete in the coming days.
She'd planned for a busy day, but it was so easy to shift her priorities when she realized Katara was
in no hurry to get up either.

Lying naked in the sitting room, they talked quietly about nothing and everything. Azula spoke of
ancient myths of Agni and of dragons, and Katara drew parallels with the Water Tribe deities and
legends. There was no defensiveness about their differences, only quiet communion of their
people's beliefs.

She dozed off to the sound of Katara's voice and awoke with Katara settled on her elbow watching
her. Katara smiled softly and touched her face. The lines of worry were still there, but Katara's
quiet desperation was gone. She said, "I don't know what I would do without you."

Azula kissed her hand. "There's no reason to fear them."

"They, whoever they were, came close, Azula. As much as you don't want to admit it." Katara
hesitated. "Was it related to that thing that you're doing…that I'm not supposed to talk about?"
"I've ruled those suspects out."

"I'm worried, Azula."

She spoke a little more firmly to get her point across. "They're the equivalent of whining children,
and they deserve none of your thought or worry." Azula summed it up with: "They embody
nobility."

Katara frowned at her. It wasn't a judgmental expression but one of perplexity. "Why do you hate
the nobles so much?"

"I don't hate them. I just don't have any regard for them." Azula saw that Katara wanted her to
elaborate and considered her answer. "The citizens of this nation are proud and strong. Many risked
their lives during the war to bring glory to us—whether you agree with the actions of the military
or not. They are honest, hardworking people who dedicate their lives and a portion of their wages
to the continuation of the Fire Nation and the protection of their neighbors.

"Nobles are not those people. They may win glory in battle, but they do so far away from the front
lines. They build their legacies on the backs of common soldiers. They refuse to pay what they owe
as citizens of this nation, in battle or in wages. They believe they're entitled to profiting as a citizen
of the Fire Nation without paying back simply because of their noble blood. They don't realize that
noble blood is just as red as anyone else's."

"Entitlement?" Katara's blue eyes narrowed slightly in mild reproach. "Azula, you're the most
entitled person I've ever met. If Ozai hadn't taken the throne, wouldn't you just be a noble?"

Azula was too calm to take offense. In a way Katara was right. Ozai had been everything Azula had
learned to despise about the noble class: he had never won a battle yet he touted himself as a
warlord; he had believed brute strength made up for his lack of finesse as a firebender; he had held
everyone else up to a standard of excellence he himself never attempted to achieve. The only thing
he had done right was to teach Azula the burden she had to bear as a Princess of the Fire Nation.

"I'm entitled because I earned it. I forged my name by shedding my blood and fire in battle, as is
only fit for the Princess of the Fire Nation." She softened her tone to something far less serious.
"And since there is no war anymore, I uphold my status by paying my taxes in full, on time."

Katara was watching her now in soft surprise. She turned her eyes away to finger a lock of Azula's
hair. "They can't all be that bad."

"Oh, you can be assured exceptions exist. Zuko has snatched up most of those exceptions to serve
him in important posts, as they should. We have no choice with the elected council, unfortunately."

"What do you mean?"

Azula had taken for granted that Katara would inherently understand the government of the Fire
Nation. Even after all of her biyearly visits, she'd apparently never learned. But why should she
have? Katara hadn't even had the right to vote before she'd become Azula's consort. Azula tangled
her fingers gently in Katara's hair and studied the carved dragons along the balustrade bordering
the balcony as she framed her answer.

"The councilmen are elected in their district by adult citizens who exercise their right to vote.
Unfortunately, the officials are generally voted into their office because they have the money to
spread their names through their district, not because they're the best suited man or woman to take
the job. No doubt some of them illegally pay for votes towards their name. It's no surprise that
most of those people also don't seem to understand the oath they take in accepting their station: that
they sit on the council to represent the best interests of their district. Agni forbid Zuko will put his
foot down and put them in their places."

Katara shook her head. "I still don't understand how the government works in this country."

"Quite frankly, Katara, I don't either. Yet it chugs along year after year."

They settled into silence, and Azula closed her eyes. She dozed off again and awoke the next time
to Kota quietly entering the study. To Azula's amusement, Katara drew the throw more securely
around them. Kota kept her eyes turned away as she quietly informed them that Ursa wished to
have dinner with them.

"What do you think?" she asked Katara after Kota left. "We can decline."

"I think she needs to see you." She rubbed her cheek against Azula's shoulder and sighed. "Ursa
and I talked yesterday."

"Oh? What did you talk about while I was in a drugged stupor?" There was no anger in her voice.
Her worry hadn't come through either. She hoped that whatever their conversation, Ursa had made
good on her promise to be more supportive.

"She was being a good mother."

"Explain."

Katara lifted her head to kiss Azula softly. "She asked me if I was serious about you. If I had any
plans on living here—and why I couldn't year-around. She also asked me if I had a husband or wife
at the Southern Water Tribe. She asked me if I love you."

Azula already knew the answers to all those questions. "I suppose I'll have to suffer those same
questions when I meet your father."

Katara snuggled closer into a position where Azula couldn't see her face. It took her a moment to
reply. "Give me a little more time with him. I don't think he's ready to accept us together."

That was certainly not an invitation to travel to the South Pole; it was a vague disappointment that
Azula took no cares to evaluate. "No? We've been together for five years next full moon."

"Next full moon, hm?" Katara shifted against her. Her voice was colored by amusement for some
reason. "How many days is that?"

Azula considered. "Twenty six."

"Sometimes I really think you're romantic. But you're such a dork about it."

Azula lifted her head, surprised to hear that dig again.

"Anyway, I'm Dad's baby girl, and you're the princess of a nation that oppressed my tribe and killed
my mother. That's how he looks at it. I've been trying to change his mind. Sokka's even tried."

"Why does he think you're with me?"

Katara laughed and met her eyes. "I don't know. Brainwashing or something?"

Azula scoffed. "As if someone with a head as hard as yours is even susceptible."
"Thanks. I think."

"It was a compliment, darling."

"Thanks, dork."

Eventually, they got up and dressed to wait for Ursa on their private balcony. When Ursa arrived,
she drew Azula into a long hug. "Humor me, sweetie," she whispered, breathing into Azula's hair.
"There's nothing as terrible as seeing your child almost killed."

"I certainly wasn't almost killed," Azula protested.

"It's like going through childbirth again."

"What?" Azula's voice betrayed her confused disgust.

Ursa patted her cheek. "One day you'll understand."

Azula didn't deign to respond to that implication. Zuko was right. Apparently as soon as she and
Katara were legally bound, Ursa decided to start hinting towards children. Azula would put up with
it if it meant Ursa accepted Katara. She motioned for her mother to take a seat on the balcony. It
was a cool damp evening after the afternoon rain. The soft setting sun wasn't enough to light the
table so Kota lit several rose scented oil lamps.

When Azula sat down, Katara took her hand under the table. Azula remembered their joining
earlier and threaded their fingers together. They shared a quiet smile.

"Are you healing well?" Ursa asked.

"Quite," Azula replied, glancing over at her mother. She was in a good enough mood to add,
"Katara is an excellent healer."

Katara smiled at her. "Despite you being a terrible patient."

"The royal physician has always been polite enough not to mention it."

"I'm not the royal physician."

"For that I'm thankful. He has more hair in his nostrils than on his head."

Katara broke down into giggles. Azula was surprised to see Ursa's smile directed at Katara. Ursa
turned her eyes back to Azula, and her smile slipped away. "If you go out, Azula, please take
guards with you."

"Yes, Mom," Azula recited as she privately vowed to do no such thing.

Ursa accepted the tea Kota placed at her elbow and scented it with a smile. It was her favorite
brew, per Azula's request. "When will you start planning the wedding?"

Azula expected the question, but her sarcastic reply was stunted by the coughing fit Katara
abruptly had; apparently she'd partly inhaled her sip of tea. Azula swallowed her laugh and said, "I
think you can take that as an answer: we aren't."

"Planning should start soon, of course," Ursa said.

Katara was uneasy as she responded. "Ursa, I don't think at this point that's feasible. I won't be in
the Fire Nation long enough to start planning anything that intricate."

"And I refuse," Azula replied calmly. Unless Katara asked her, she supposed. Katara's hand once
again returned to her palm.

Ursa accepted the dish of breaded fish and rice and tore a steaming flake from it. Instead of
pressing the issue, she said, "You must at least have a portrait to commemorate your consortium."

Azula sensed that Ursa had just gambled down on purpose and shot her mother a glare. "I think all
royal painters are busy with this incumbent wedding."

"Actually," Ursa said. That single word sent a tremble of dread up Azula's spine. She hated sitting
for portraits. "We'll be posing for a family portrait—"

"Excluding Ozai, of course." She only said it to make her mother angry.

"Obviously," Ursa's tone betrayed a small amount of shortness; her sharp stare communicated she
knew exactly why Azula had said that. "Your father and I, your brother, and you. And you and
your brother will pose separately. Why not go ahead and have a painting done of you and Katara to
commemorate your joining?"

Katara snickered uncharacteristically. "I'm not sure that would be appropriate to hang in the royal
palace hallway."

"I thought you said you wouldn't entertain thoughts of a third presence," Azula teased wickedly.

Her lover's expression was dark as her cheeks flushed. "Actually, darling, I was referring to the
expression you'll probably be shooting the painter." Despite her tone, her fingers traced a gentle
pattern on Azula's palm.

Ursa cleared her throat. She was also flushed in clear embarrassment; that alone made what Azula
had said worth it. "That was something I didn't need to know."

"You have sex with Iroh," Azula shot back. "I'm not sure how you can be embarrassed or disgusted
by anything."

"Iroh is a very sexy man," Ursa replied daintily.

Katara burst into laughter. Azula mimed pushing away her plate.

"Actually, Azula, your father wanted me to let you know he wants to speak with you."

"About what?"

Ursa gave a half-shrug in reply. It was a lie that Azula had learned. She'd also learned never ever to
hint that she thought her mother was being untruthful. "I'll be by tomorrow, though it may be late."

"You've been out and about a lot recently," Ursa said primly. Her question was thinly disguised.

"Zuko asked me to help drum up some support for a few of his proposals." Azula was much better
at lying than her mother, and Ursa accepted her fib with a pleased smile. She wondered if she
would ever get used to the sting of guilt she felt lying to her mother—even about a matter such as
this. "By the way, what did you drug me with yesterday?"

By the time Azula had a moment to herself the next day, it was approaching evening. While Azula
preferred to meditate and train in the morning, Iroh preferred the evening sun. She sought him out
and found him in his meditation circle in the western palace grounds.

"Mom said you wanted to speak with me?"

Iroh opened his eyes and looked up at her. He didn't smile. At his gesture, she settled in lotus
position facing him.

"Ursa told me about the attack." He frowned unhappily. "She also told me you didn't firebend."

Despite that she'd partly expected the observation, it stung to have her failure pointed out. Azula
was ashamed that she'd not been able to protect her mother as well as she should have. "Yet I
defeated them anyway."

There was no blame in Iroh's voice when he said, "After a debilitating injury that required a
waterbender to heal you."

She could have said 'debilitating is a matter of opinion' or 'I could have healed naturally without a
waterbender's attention' or any number of snide brushoffs. Instead, she asked, "What do you want
me to say, old man?"

Iroh sighed. "Please let me help you."

"How will you help me? Meditate with me? Ask me to do katas? Make me sit in the sun and do
breathing exercises? I'm already doing all those things. I've read every single text on restoring
firebending that exists, and I've done everything logical that I can do." Her frustration sharpened
her words.

Iroh, of course, had a useless answer. "You need to find peace with yourself. You'll never find your
fire again if you can't find satisfaction with who you are."

"I'm al—"

"And with the losses you've suffered. Losing that final battle of the Hundred Year War wasn't a
weakness or deficit."

She hated him for pointing it out at all. She hated him for belittling it.

"It was a loss," Azula snapped, looking away. "I fail to see how it could be anything but a
weakness."

"It shaped you to be who you are now. You have a lover now. You're friends with your brother
now. You have a father and mother who love you. Family, Azula. These things would never have
come to pass if you'd killed your brother and Katara in that last battle and taken the mantle of Fire
Lord."

She was silent, taking his meaning and disagreeing with it in her core.

"Azula, after you were imprisoned, did those guards violate you?"

The change in subject was startling enough to draw her eyes to him again. He was watching her
sharply. On rare occasions, she saw a bit of Ozai in Iroh. This was one of them.

"Violate me? Other than taking my hair and fingernails? No. Why would it matter? Those men
were all executed." She'd only learned of it years after the fact. It still surprised her that Ursa had
demanded the fingernails and hair from those men for Azula's mistreatment. It shocked her even
more that Ursa had then demanded their heads.

"Because it would be better for you to tell someone than to keep it inside."

"I wasn't raped, Iroh. I wasn't touched inappropriately. I hardly think of it. I hardly thought at the
time it happened, actually," she said with vague bitterness. Azula didn't understand why he was
bringing it up now.

"They shouldn't have treated you that way."

"But they did, and none of your pointless anger is going to change that fact."

He seized on her statement. "As your anger—or whatever negative emotion you feel towards
yourself—won't change the fact that you lost on the day of Sozin's Comet. Nor will it change the
fact that you were affected as you were by the comet. You should feel no shame."

"You have a great deal to say about what I should and shouldn't feel." She couldn't temper the
bitterness in her voice.

"I want you to be happy, daughter. And I think some of that happiness will stem from you
regaining your bending." Iroh smiled ruefully. "As a firebender, I know the joy you felt wielding it.
I can empathize with the sorrow you feel without it now."

Azula spoke before she could think better of it. "It's a hole in my spirit."

Iroh held out his hand. Azula hesitantly placed her hand in his grip. His palm was rough and it
dwarfed her own. As he curled his fingers over hers, she realized she'd inherited his tall lunulas.

"You have to let it go."

"Tell me how." Her voice was thick with betraying emotion.

He smiled tightly. "You're like your mother. You care too much about too many things."

It was the most incongruent statement she'd heard in years. "Tell that to the people who claim I
don't care enough."

"Let me restate that. You care too much about too many of the wrong things. And caring about a
loss that happened seven years ago is the wrong thing." He squeezed her hand. "I wish I could tell
you how to let it go, Azula, but I can't. You must sort out your own priorities."

He sat there and smiled at her until she uncertainly returned his smile with one of her own. He
squeezed her hand again. "And right now, that priority is tea. Come, let's drink."

"No Pai Sho."

"No," Iroh agreed. "Not tonight."

At her next meeting with Tazu and his cohorts the following week, the first question posed to her
was: "When shall we strike during the wedding?"

Coordinating this coup was turning out to be more difficult than Azula had at first imagined. She
knew when the best time to strike was: in the middle of the ceremony, when likely everyone would
be asleep on their feet listening to the Fire Sage drone in the ancient language. But dragons forbid
they have to stand through the damn thing a second time. She wondered if any of the men knew
enough to think she'd be a fool if she asked them to strike at the end of the ceremony, after Zuko
and Mai were officially wed, when all the noble invitees would wake up in anticipation of the feast
and alcohol provided by the royal family.

"The final clause," one of the younger men said. "The one that asks for anyone who has a claim
against the Fire Lord."

"It has a certain poetic ring," Azula breathed wistfully, checking her fingernails. Why she bothered
trying to sound smart while posing stupid ideas she didn't know. They did that for her. "The
onlookers will be paying attention to see the glorious moment, and with all pieces in place, there
should be no repercussions from waiting."

Beside her, Tazu's daughter stilled. Azula shot her a sharp glance, and Laza lowered her head and
continued pouring Azula tea. She offered it with her stupid coy smile and a fluttering of her long,
dark lashes. The tea was sharp, almost bitter. Laza had let it steep too long.

Azula didn't know why she kept her voice low when she spoke. "This is disgusting."

"Tea ceremony was never my best class," Laza said with a fake giggle.

"Nor mine," Azula muttered irritably. "Go away."

Laza bowed her dark head and escorted herself out of the room.

"What of Zuko's guard?" Tazu posed the question as he watched his daughter leave the room; his
ferrety face was dark with anger. Daddy was disappointed by his daughter's performance,
apparently. Did he actually entertain the hope that Azula would choose his vapid daughter as her
lover? Disgusting and insulting. Tazu mopped at his sweaty brow, met her eyes, and flinched.

Azula sneered at him. "Zuko's guard doesn't exist. They're my guard now." The lie fell from her
lips easily. Another thing on the list of items she needed to discuss with Zuko. "It has been
discreetly done, and those who remain loyal I will have neutralized and replaced."

"Just like that?" arrogant Lam asked. He'd started to grow a mustache and looked all the more
pompous for it.

"I assure you, it hasn't been 'just like that'." Azula pinned him with a pointed glare. Lam lowered
his head in an impertinent bow. "I had hoped I wouldn't have to say the obvious. I've been working
in the shadows to facilitate a coup for years, pretending to make nice with my foolish family in the
meantime. They'll never suspect until Zuko's life blood spills upon the dais." She stretched her lips
in a wicked smile.

"What if the nobles decide to protect their Fire Lord?" another man asked.

"Unlikely," Lam replied with a wave of his hand. "Discontent is enough to stay even the loyal
hands."

"And if any hand is raised, I will cut it off," Azula said.

"Forgive me, my Lord."

Azula glanced over at Tazu, who was sweating even more. "What is your question, Tazu?"

"What of the Avatar?"

She grinned at him sharply, deep enough into her role to almost believe she could kill the little
pissant. Tazu went white in fear. She said, "Leave him to me."

"Princess, Lady Laza, daughter of Lord Tazu, has requested your audience." Kota hovered
nervously in front of the stall that housed Azula's prized mongoose dragon mount as she delivered
the news. She looked like she was a moment away from sprinting out of the royal stables.

From inside the stall, Azula considered her servant's words. Laza? How interesting. She'd been to a
fairly productive meeting with Tazu a few days before; surely this wasn't a message from him.
Azula's mongoose dragon hissed and snapped at her. She flicked her whip in warning, and he
turned his head, raising his third eyelid submissively.

First: "Kota, I believe my sleeve is untied. Would you see to it?"

Kota's eyes went so wide Azula wondered if they would pop out of her head. Azula glanced down
at her arm carelessly. "Oh, never mind. I was mistaken. You may bring Laza here and make
arrangements for a carriage to Ozai's compound."

Kota flinched when another mongoose dragon reared up in its stall nearby. Azula enjoyed the
discomfort of her usually unflappable servant and nearly laughed when Kota forwent the
appropriate bow and rushed out of the stables.

Azula spoke into the empty stables. "Listen and take note of what she says."

When Laza approached, she was alone. She wore beautifully embroidered red robes that
emphasized the blackness of her hair. The woman carried herself with an air of grace and coy
sultriness that grated on Azula's every nerve. Azula wasn't sure if her disgust stemmed from Laza's
apparent assumption that Azula would find her airs attractive or from the fact that part of Azula
did. She blamed all those young, beautiful instructors at the Royal Academy with their snide
condescension towards their students; those were formative years in her sexual development
apparently.

Azula had vaguely wondered a few times whether Laza could have been the origin of the attack in
the streets of the noble district. Her gut told her no—as had her servants—but her gut also told her
Laza was more than she seemed. Maybe the noblewoman would finally show her hand. Hopefully
she would do it without giggling and batting her eyelashes.

Laza's eyes flickered to Azula's mount. "What a beautiful creature. Is this Whip of Flame and
Lightning?"

Azula had been twelve when she'd broken Whip; her naming skills at that time left a little to be
desired. "Yes, it is my mount. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Azula dragged the appropriate
dressage over her mongoose dragon's body. "A proposition perhaps?"

Laza laughed as she leaned against the stall door. She looked beneath her stained black eyelashes
at Azula. "You're beautiful, Princess, but I'm not suicidal. I imagine if I entertained such a notion, a
certain Master Waterbender could easily strip me of my blood and leave me as dust."

The thought pleased Azula; perhaps Laza had gambled on that with her too familiar statement. It
would be interesting to see this snooty woman atop a mongoose dragon. "Join me."

She expected discomfort or fear, but Laza's eyes lit up. "If I may, Princess."

Azula motioned for Laza to take the smaller female across the barn stall. Before a ubiquitous
groom could rush forward to see to the mount, Laza had stripped out of her outer robe and entered
the stall with whip and dressage fearlessly.

A groom took Azula's prepared mongoose dragon out into the yard for her to mount. Before Azula
followed him, she paused to watch Laza snap the whip and pull the harness on her mount with little
difficulty. The little female was fairly docile as far as mongoose dragons went, but a docile
mongoose dragon was still fierce and violent with an independent mind.

Laza stepped aside as another groom entered the stall to lead her chosen animal out for her to
mount in the yard. Her bare arms were tanned by the sun and defined by slender muscle…a
complete surprise. The more Azula saw of this woman, the more she seemed an enigma instead of
an open book.

"Do you ride?"

"My…" Laza paused in a moment of consideration. "A close acquaintance of mine is a breeder. I've
been riding mongoose dragons for years because of that." She blinked in the sunlight, her coy
expression back in place. "These grounds are beautiful, Princess."

Azula ignored the worthless comment and quickly mounted her mongoose dragon. Whip spun in a
sharp circle, hissing in protest to her weight on his back, and she snapped her whip and wrestled
him back into submission. His body was a coil of tight muscles as he settled down, his tongue
flicking out to scent the air.

Laza mounted with ease and went through her own power match. She handled the reins easily and
the whip with discipline and soon proved to her mongoose dragon that she was in control.

Perhaps Azula's morning ride wasn't interrupted after all. She turned her mount around and let him
have some lead. He burst into a whip-like run. His feet only whispered across the grass even at a
full sprint. Whip scented the water of the lavish royal fountains—a long, rectangular body of water
only a meter deep and over one hundred meters long. She let him go there and gave him more
freedom to top out at full speed as his feet struck the water in soft steps. He carried her across the
top of the water as easily as on earth.

Some zoologists theorized mongoose dragons had innate waterbending ability that allowed their
mass to transverse on top of water, defying the principles of physics as scholars knew them. It was
not a theory Azula could dismiss offhand. Part of her liked the thought that a species evolved from
the Fire Nation islands could make use of a different element than fire.

She drew her mount up short and watched Laza's smaller, slower mount skitter across the royal
fountain. Laza was grinning, handling her mongoose dragon easily. She drew up next to Azula
breathlessly, looking around at the inner royal gardens with wide eyes. By her expression, she'd
never been this far into the palace grounds.

"Why are you here?"

Laza jerked her head around. The coy expression was back on her face as seamlessly as if she'd put
on a mask. "I'm not as stupid as you think, Princess. I just wished to let you know you have my
support."

How inane. "I am aware."

Laza continued, "You, whether or not that aligns with the plans of my father."

This caught Azula's attention. "What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing, Princess." Coy, too coy, even as her mount jerked beneath her and required a quick show
of the whip.

Azula supposed it made sense, from a noble-eat-noble standpoint. If Tazu was found a traitor or
died as one, Laza would have a bid to inherit his fortune; even splitting it evenly with her two
sisters would leave her wealthy for life. Tazu's money was perhaps enough to offset the tarnish to
his name in such an event. And Laza would be free to do exactly as she wished. What that was,
Azula didn't know nor could she guess. Azula didn't like that thought.

They continued their ride at a more sedate pace. "Then tell me, how do your father's friends enter
his house?"

"There's a cellar entrance."

One of the possibilities she'd considered, simplistic and still rather surprising to hear confirmed.
"Leading to where?"

"The cellar of an alchemist across the way. Who has another few tunnels, one to Lam's family and
one to the Ling estate."

"Who owns that establishment?" Azula cocked her head and regarded Laza. The other woman was
not coy; without that expression on her face, she looked almost intelligent.

"The Boulis."

Bouli, a family name that honestly surprised Azula. They were an old clan, distant cousins of the
royal family. The Bouli family had no particular scandal to them other than the normal who's-
sleeping-with-whom noble chatter. They were well-to-do, and they threw their lot in with Zuko
unreservedly after the coup. Well, perhaps with more reserve than anyone had believed.

"And they understand said use of said cellar passage?"

"I can't say with any knowledge, but it would shock me that such an affluent family would be so
careless with their properties. And happen to be connected with three families who are…up to no
good."

"Be careful, Laza. I might consider that statement impertinent on another day."

Laza batted her eyelashes. "Me, impertinent?"

Azula needed to put this woman in her place. For the moment, Azula considered the information
she'd just received. A shadow benefactor, the Bouli family, trusted allies who were not allies at all.
The thought added all the more danger to this little coup. And Laza, another unknown piece.

That was, if she was doing this independent of her father. Tazu didn't seem to be the type of man to
set up a faux double-cross to test Azula's loyalties. Stranger things had happened though.

"I can show you when you visit next," Laza offered.

Azula flicked her fingers in dismissal. For now she would consider the mystery solved. She turned
her mount around, and they returned to the royal stables in little time. Azula dismounted and left
her animal in the hands of the grooms, motioning for Laza to do the same. After she'd retrieved her
outer robes, Laza took Azula's offered arm.

They walked around the edge of the stables and along a stone pathway to Ursa's gardens. From
here, Azula glanced up towards the balcony of her own apartment. A servant was fussing with the
curtains. Katara wasn't in sight. That morning she'd mentioned delivering a noblewoman's baby,
surely an all-day affair. It was good; Katara would not approve of what Azula was about to do.

"Escorting me out so soon?" Laza asked when they approached the palace.

"I'm taking my own leave," Azula replied lightly. When they entered the cool, dark interior of the
palace, she placed her hand over Laza's firmly and asked, "Do you think your gender gives you a
measure of safety from my temper?"

Laza stiffened; her smile was abruptly brittle.

Azula slowly tightened her hand. Laza gasped and tried to pull back instinctually when Azula's grip
became painful. Azula squeezed until Laza's knuckles popped and the noblewoman couldn't
suppress a cry of pain. Azula ducked her head to catch and hold Laza's gaze. Laza looked back at
her, for the first time with a completely honest expression on her face: pain and fear.

"If you're lying to me, I'll take your head from your neck. Do you understand?"

"Yes!"

"I am your Royal Princess. Do you understand?"

"Yes!"

Azula released her grip, and Laza cupped her abused hand, gasping and blinking back tears. Azula
offered her arm again and was pleased that Laza hesitated before taking it. Azula placed her hand
back over Laza's, and her flinch was satisfying. They walked silently through the hallways and
stepped out into the sunlight. In front of the palace, Laza's palanquin waited beside Azula's
carriage. Azula saw her off, saying, "I enjoyed our little meeting, Laza daughter of Tazu."

Laza's pale face didn't shift in a smile. She bowed deeply in true respect. "Princess."

Azula drew aside the curtain on Laza's palanquin and lowered her head slightly to bid her goodbye
with personal satisfaction. She doubted Laza would be coy with her again…nor would she ever
believe she could get away with it. As far as the impact to her honesty, Azula couldn't guess one
way or another.

“What are you doing?”

Azula was startled by both the words and voice. Her surprise darkened the aggressive anger; she
wished she could physically strike to release it. Instead, Azula turned slowly and studied the Avatar
where he stood a combative five meters away. Had he been spying on her? What a childish
pastime.

“To what do I owe this uncharacteristic verbal exchange?” Azula asked him, adopting a droll tone.

The Avatar’s face tightened, and his voice trembled with naked anger. “What are you doing?”

She was too angry to roll her eyes; her voice was hard. “Apparently I’m standing here, wasting my
time talking to you. Rephrase your question so that I may answer and we can return to our
malevolent silence.”

“That woman,” he said. “What is she to you?”

Did he mean Laza? Had he really seen them innocently walking together and assumed Azula was
sleeping with her? What a low opinion. Nothing she said now would change his views of her, and
for some reason, that made her anger redouble. Her emotions were so sharp that she blurted her
first thought: “We fuck occasionally."

The lie almost startled her, but it ended up evoking satisfying righteous rage from him. Let him
believe she could keep Katara while sleeping with someone else; let him stew on that bitter root.

The Avatar’s hands were shaking. “How could you do this to Katara? She loves you! I knew she
couldn’t trust you, but she didn't believe me—”

Why not play into his preconceived ideas of her? Azula laughed. "Do you think she doesn't know?"

The Avatar paled further, stalled into silence.

"Does that hurt you?" she needled. "That she knows of my infidelity, is hurt by it, but stays with
me anyway? That she loves me that much more than she ever loved you?"

His eyes abruptly went glassy. His voice was quiet. "You're a horrible person. I just want her to be
happy."

"She is. Mostly. We are certainly very sexually compatible." She winked as she stepped into the
waiting carriage. "As stimulating as this conversation is, I have someplace to be. Good day,
Avatar."

“Wait!” he called, but the carriage was already moving.

Azula closed her eyes and took a deep breath, held it, and released it. Her heart’s heavy beat slowed
slightly. She might regret that exchange in the future, but his anger had been so satisfying.

Kota sat on the bench across from her. When Azula opened her eyes, her servant's gaze skittered
away nervously. Then Kota's stare centered on the large man in servant's clothing sitting next to
Azula on the back bench.

Azula didn't look at him. Her mind slipped back into business. "Is it as she says?"

"Yes, Princess. A crude tunnel to the alchemist. There is also a branch to the Lam family estate
cellar and a branch to the Ling mansion."

"Observe the Bouli estate. Begin observation of the other families involved." She'd erred in not
putting them on it earlier, especially given the Bouli involvement.

"Any other orders, Princess?"

"Are there any leads on the assassination attempt?" It was their main assignment.

His shoulders rounded down. "No, Princess. I deeply apologize for our failures. With your
permission, we can begin questioning possible suspect individuals that—"

"'Questioning'?" Azula asked quietly. Her anger spiked. She was in a foul mood. "As useful as
torture, I'm sure. Let it rest and concentrate on the traitors. You're dismissed."

He crouched, gave what bow he could in their tight quarters, and stepped out of the moving
carriage. Dust from their wheels seemed to multiply, and Azula didn't have to look to know he was
gone.
Sitting across from her, Kota had taken a defensive posture: she sat with her arms crossed and her
feet side by side.

"You don't like them. Why?"

Her servant was silent for a beat. "Cloak and dagger, Princess. Usually someone gets stabbed in
the back."

"Yes. But I will be doing the stabbing," Azula pointed out. "Tell me, why might Tazu's youngest
daughter seek to depose him?"

"To marry, Princess."

When Azula had asked the question, she'd expected a vague answer or theory. She hadn't expected
such a quick, certain statement. She gave her servant her full attention and commanded, "Explain."

Kota shifted unconsciously. "My cousin's husband works with her lover. They've been together
secretly for years, but Tazu keeps trying to marry Laza to noblemen. They're good matches, but
they fall through probably on purpose on her part."

"Her lover isn't a good match?"

"A commoner. Her family is rich, but they're tradespeople."

"A woman." Azula was surprised. And a little more at ease because she now understood Laza's
motivations. If Azula became Fire Lord, her word would overlay Tazu's own command; as a
lesbian, Azula might be more inclined to allow her to marry. If Tazu was deposed, Laza would be
able to decide for herself whom to marry. If Laza's coy sultriness had been purposefully
exaggerated to repel instead of attract, the woman was cleverer than she appeared.

Azula interpreted her conversation with Laza in a different light. "Is her lover a mongoose dragon
breeder?"

"Yes. I would have mentioned it, Princess, but I didn't connect them together until I saw Lady Laza
for myself today."

Azula waved her hand in dismissal. She knew now. That was good enough. No point in taking her
unrelated anger out on the best servant in Capital City.

And now… Now she would have to think of another matter altogether and not a happy one. She
had delayed visiting Ozai for weeks partly because there had been little time. Predictably, he had
responded by breaking a bauble she'd gifted him for his comfort and happiness in the attempt to
gain her attention. This time, the bauble he'd broken was a prostitute named Hazana who visited
him weekly.

Azula had learned of his behavior that morning when the prostitute had sent a polite request to
Azula's majordomo for the wages she would lose during the time her face healed from Ozai's
blows. At least he hadn't knocked any of her teeth out. That would have been much more expensive
to fix, and Azula was contracted to pay for any damage to Hazana's body caused by Ozai.

Azula didn't like to reward Ozai's childish behavior with her attention, but she needed to travel to
the asylum in person. She wasn't going to punish Ozai because there was little point. Azula was far
more irritated that Ozai's caretaker hadn't informed her of the incident. That matter required her
immediate personal attention.
The sun was at its hottest point by the time the carriage rolled in front of the small oasis that
housed Ozai. Long palms on the surrounding trees rustled in the wind. Her driver unhitched the
ostrich horse and led it to the trough of fresh water provided by the household. It was still gulping
greedily when Azula entered the compound.

When she strode into the front of the building to speak with Ozai's caretaker, she was greeted by
the sight of the warden snoring with his feet up on his desk. Kimo was a big brute of an old man
who'd served Azulon faithfully for years and had been demoted in Ozai's reign. Azula kicked his
desk sharply enough to send his heels crashing onto the floor. The warden awoke with a yelp. He
saw her and his eyes went wide.

She didn't wait for him to wake up fully to ask the sharp question: "Why was I not informed that
Ozai decided to assault his prostitute?"

Kimo blinked in dismay. "He did?"

Azula stared at him in slowly escalating anger. The warden was a loyal man, but he was as dumb
as a rock. Clearly it was time to fund his retirement and replace him with someone more intelligent.
She was angry enough in that moment to consider the man's retirement by her fist. "You are here to
monitor every aspect of Ozai's care. How exactly are you unaware of this matter?"

If he had told her that the prostitute was lying or that he had been protecting Ozai from her anger,
she might have believed him. However, the man only gaped at her. He looked caught.

Her anger escalated until her sight flicked to red as she realized the truth: this man hadn't been
here.

Azula's voice was clipped in her barely controlled temper. "Let me understand this correctly. You
are being paid a handsome sum to live at this compound and oversee every aspect of Ozai's care. It
is written into your contract that you may not leave this compound without permission and without
an approved second to take your place. Do you remember signing that?"

"It was only one afternoon!" he protested feebly.

"It was also in your contract that you forfeit your wages for the year if you broke those terms."
Azula looked at him sharply, too angry to take satisfaction with his sudden nauseated expression.
"If you had requested to leave this job, I would have donated funds to your retirement. Now you
will have nothing. Leave. Now." The warden hesitated. "Now!"

He tripped, went to his knees, and scrambled out of the building and out of her sight.

The warden's second, a man named Li, was in his hot cramped office in the corner of the front
building of the compound. Li was a younger man—perhaps in his late thirties—than the warden.
He was fairly plain looking but not unattractive perhaps only because he was well-groomed. He
was quiet and immediately proved he was far more intelligent than his superior. For one thing, he
was awake.

He received her in his office with wide eyes and scrambled to clear off the chair covered in scrolls
in front of his desk. Azula didn't deign to sit in that chair. She settled her arms behind her back and
asked him, "Why did you not inform your superior about Ozai's behavior with his prostitute?"

Li frowned at her. His gray eyes were soft in confusion. "Forgive me, Princess. To what behavior
are you referring?"

"Were you not here as well then?" Her simmering anger was almost too much to contain.
"I always visit my family in the capital on the days of the prostitute's visits," Li said; he lowered his
head in deference. "I wasn't informed of a problem."

He appeared to be telling the truth. She glanced at Kota, who gave a faint nod in confirmation of
the man's first claim.

"How long have you worked here, Li?"

"Three years, Princess."

"How would you like a promotion?" she asked him.

He didn't smile, but he bowed in thanks, flashing the thinning patch of hair on the crown of his
head. "It would be an honor, Princess."

This man had two thoughts to rub together and was the right mix of confidence and humility; he
would do at least for now. It was an extemporaneous decision on her part, but she didn't have time
to worry about juggling candidates for the post of Ozai's warden. They shared weak tea and
discussed his responsibilities and settled on the terms of his contract. When Azula finished with her
meeting with him, she was in a marginally better mood to face Ozai.

Li himself led her to the gated entrance and unlocked the two doors into Ozai's patio. He bowed as
he closed them behind her.

There on his patio sat Ozai in the sun. He was bare to his waist. His chest was covered in white
hair, his beard was bushy gray, and the hair on his head was black and white stubble. He'd gone to
fat; his belly hung over his belt. By his obvious odor, he was drunk. Ozai did not acknowledge
Azula's presence.

"How are you?" she asked him.

He was silent, gazing at the wall.

"Why did you decide to put your fist into Hazana's face?"

No answer.

"In any case, she will not be returning to you for six months. Use your fist on her one more time,
and the only sexual company you'll receive again is that fist."

That vulgar rudeness didn't even garner a response.

"Has someone cut out your tongue?"

That finally coaxed him to speak. "Why do you pretend to care about me? You're happy to let your
own father rot here while you enjoy freedom and watch your brother destroy this nation." His voice
was low and hoarse and very angry.

Azula curled her lip. "Oh, is that all?"

He didn't like her sarcasm. His lip curled as well; she'd learned that disdain from him. "And now
you've taken a savage as your consort."

Her anger was sharp, but she held it back. She didn't like—but wasn't too surprised after her
revelation about Ozai's recently retired caretaker—that Ozai was receiving news that she'd not
approved. "Katara has been my lover for years."
"Lover? It's shameful enough that she shares your bed, but at least she did so as your whore—"

She wasn't aware that she'd moved until she had Ozai's throat trapped between her forearm and the
building behind him. He gagged against her arm. Azula's voice was low and tightly controlled in
contrast to her raging emotions. "I am the only reason you're still alive. I'm the only reason you
didn't sit in that prison cell and rot in your own shit. Make no mistake. You're making it tempting
to throw you to the dragons, Father."

When she let him go, he put a hand to his throat and rasped, "You're not my daughter."

She almost told him the truth. She knew he didn't know that Iroh was her father, not when he still
spoke to her and behaved like a spoiled baby to gain her attention. It would be so easy and so
vindictive to tell Ozai to his face—'Iroh is my father.'—especially when he was looking at her in
such a wounded way.

Even after all this, she couldn't do that to the man who had raised her. Instead, she said, "Yet I'm
the only friend you have, old man."

She turned on her heel and left him there, knowing she would not be back. She would fund his
care, his alcohol and opium, and his sexual needs until he died, but she would not grace him with
her presence ever again. Some strange darkness slipped from her shoulders like a weighted cape
with every step away from Ozai. She'd finally burned that bridge.

The thought didn't dissipate the ball of tension that sat in her throat.
 All the best intentions

"What's wrong?"

Azula glanced up from the book in her hands, surprised to hear her consort's voice in the palace
archives. She hadn't seen Katara at all that day and was startled by how welcome this interruption
was. Katara had drawn her hair back in a high ponytail and wore one of Azula's silk tunics; as
casual as she was, she was beautiful. She frowned down at Azula with her arms crossed, but her
expression communicated worry, not anger.

"Nothing's wrong."

Katara raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. She sat down practically on top of Azula, so close that
her breasts pressed against the side of Azula's face. The distraction was pleasant but unwelcome.
This gesture and its public nature were uncharacteristic of her lover. Azula wasn't sure how exactly
to respond. She decided on a gentle dry comment, spoken into Katara's cleavage. "Your level of
clinginess has rapidly escalated since we've become consorts."

Katara pulled back to respond. "I feel like I haven't seen you in two days. You buried yourself in
these archives yesterday; you came to bed after I was asleep last night; and you left before I was
awake. Kota said you visited Ozai. What happened?"

Of course this was out of worry. She'd needed quiet and space, but Katara thought talking about
bad feelings would erase them. At this point, she was tired enough of her brooding anger that she
didn't resist. Azula considered telling Katara the whole truth and realized there was no reason to
hurt her feelings or coax her worry.

She simply said, "Ozai has denounced me as his daughter. I will no longer be visiting him."

"Good riddance."

Azula felt the sting of offense, but she refused to show it. Katara's gaze was a gentle caress, and her
fingers stroked though Azula's hair, which was down for the day. Her next words took away all
sting. "But I'm sorry if you're upset. Was it because of me?"

"It was because of me." Azula shifted; her left thigh had gone to sleep. "Have the other chairs
spontaneously combusted?"

Katara kissed her temple and got to her feet. Azula turned back to her book, which detailed grain
growth, trade, and processing. Zuko had complained time and time again that the Earth Kingdom
was scalping them on agriculture tariffs. Given the Fire Nation had little appropriate land or
climate for grain agriculture, they relied on imports from the Earth Kingdom.

Wheat couldn't be grown…but rice was another matter. Perhaps they could expand what farmland
they did have with water terraces that were used for—

Katara was back, this time tugging at her hair. "What are you doing?"

"Braiding your hair."

"Why are you—ow!"

"Hold still."
Azula's eyes watered, and she sneezed in reflex to the yank on her scalp. She dropped the book
with more energy than the old text warranted. Katara, like Ursa, had an inherent talent at nagging.
Katara just went about it a little differently.

"Stop torturing me. What do you want?"

Katara released her hair. "Stop reading and come with me. You need to eat."

Some things were worth arguing despite the possibility of creating tension between them. This was
not one of them. Azula resigned herself to her fate and replaced her book in the stack she'd already
read. She nodded to Yanu, archive head, as they left. He gave two polite bows, one to each of them.
It was only appropriate.

Their walk through the palace led them down the royal gallery that housed each of the Fire Lord
tapestries. Azula recited their names silently. The visages all posed with hands raised, caressed by
flame and carrying symbols related to their rule.

She'd dreamed of what her own portrait might look like as a girl. Her imaginary tapestry had been
framed by blue fire several years before she'd managed to change the heat and intensity of her
flame. It was only right; she'd been named for her blue flames. Her imagined symbols ranged from
the classic dragon for royalty to the scythe for war to the scroll for knowledge. After she'd
conquered Ba Sing Se, she'd added the great city's rings beneath her feet on her banner.

Her mental Fire Lord portrait was appropriately bare now. She was just beginning to realize it
didn't have to remain so, even if the tapestry never existed in physical form.

As they approached Zuko's visage, Katara asked, "Do you want to be on this wall?"

Yes. "No."

"Back during the war, wasn't that what you wanted most?" Katara asked the question without a hint
of judgment, only gentle curiosity. Behind it, Azula sensed sympathy. That was to be expected
from Katara, as much as Azula hated coaxing that emotion. She wanted Katara's pride, not her pity.

She didn't want to talk about this now. Every mention of the war further reminded her of the truth
of her failures. Iroh's advice sat in the forefront of her mind—'accept your loss'—but its
uselessness was more sting than balm. "I only wanted to bring glory to my nation."

It was not really an 'only'. There would never be an 'only' to the wishes she'd held then and now.
The Fire Nation was the most powerful country in the world; its citizens were the strongest,
proudest, and most stalwart people of all nations. She wanted to glorify that in a way that her
country deserved, and that would take a lifetime of achievements. She didn't know how she could
honor her country in these peaceful times and without the firebending touted by her people. But she
could still try.

Her bad mood softened somewhat when they stepped onto their apartment balcony. A light private
dinner awaited them there. Azula was surprised to see that the sun had set. She hadn't realized she'd
been in the archives that long. It explained her headache and thirst.

Katara sensed Azula's temper and understood her current mood, and she was quiet through the
short dinner. Azula felt some peace come to her, and along with it, tiredness. She hadn't slept well
the night before. She was sleepy by the time she'd eaten her fill, but Katara stood up and pulled
Azula to her feet.

"No nodding off allowed. You haven't danced with me at all this visit," Katara said quietly.
"I recall doing plenty of dancing in the last few weeks," Azula replied, her head comfortably tucked
against Katara's neck.

"I meant the vertical kind, doofus."

"You do like to verbally abuse me."

Katara pulled away. Azula precluded their usual faux-sparring dance with a query. She knew she'd
give away a little something with her question, but Katara was little risk, much gain. "The Earth
Kingdom has a formal dance. Have you seen it?"

"The box step?"

Azula nodded in confirmation and took a step forward. Katara folded her arms behind her back
with a knowing grin and took a step back. They mirrored each other on the step to Azula's left.
Then Azula stepped back and Katara forward. Finally, they completed the step to Azula's right.

After a few more completed box steps, Katara drew closer and pulled Azula into her arms. Azula
didn't miss a beat. She wound her arms around Katara's strong waist and pointed out, "I'm fairly
certain touching isn't custom."

"Music usually is, but we don't need it. You don't care about custom any more than I do."

"Touché." Azula rotated her hips, guiding Katara with her grip on her hips, and their box turned
into a rotating ellipse. Katara laughed and kept up with her, step for step until Azula took one turn
too sharp and Katara's foot came down on her own. "Whoops!" Katara gasped, laughing.

Azula seized her by the hips and lifted her, continuing her steps—though smaller now that she
supported Katara. Katara shrieked playfully and held on to her shoulders in a death grip. "Don't
drop me!"

"I'm just saving my own feet!" Azula was surprised by the laughter in her own voice. She gave
Katara's backside a healthy two-handed squeeze, prompting another shriek. Katara laughed,
wriggled, and swatted at Azula's head with one hand, and Azula retaliated by letting Katara slip
through her hands, prompting yet another cry.

She quickly encircled her arms to create a steady seat for Katara, and Katara wrapped her legs
around Azula's torso. She continued to step, setting her face against Katara's stomach with her back
flexed to keep them balanced. She was surprised that she felt so much better than she had only an
hour before.

Azula breathed in Katara's scent and said, "I love you."

Katara's fingers brushed through her hair, then tugged insistently on her ear. Azula drew her head
back, meeting her consort's eyes. "Put me down," Katara said quietly. "I'm taking you to bed."

It was a command Azula couldn't resist.

There was fire in Azula's veins, need and want tangled in one. She didn't protest when Katara
pulled off her clothes and pushed her onto her back in bed. Katara settled over her, still clothed, and
kissed Azula until she was desperate for Katara's touch and whispered her needs: "Please, please,
please…"

Katara's fingers teased her gently, and Azula lifted her hips with a gasp that Katara muffled with
her kisses.
"Inside me," she begged.

"Oh, you do want this," Katara murmured softly. As Azula had pleaded, she slipped inside. She
was gentle but firm, exactly what Azula needed.

She moaned when Katara began to rock against her in slow, steady thrusts. She needed this. She
needed Katara so much. Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's shoulders and tangled her fingers
in Katara's hair. Her hips rocked with the steady rhythm they shared. Katara's mouth—tongue and
teeth and lips—was desperate pleasurable distraction on her breasts for long minutes.

Katara drew her mouth away from Azula's body, and her breath settled over Azula's lips. Azula
moaned both from Katara's sure touch and with her want for Katara's kiss. Katara settled against
her, a welcome weight. The texture of her clothing against Azula's sensitive skin was heady. Her
pleasure was building up; she was so close to falling over the edge with the combination of all
these stimuli.

"Look at me."

Azula opened her eyes and reached out to cup Katara's face. She looked into Katara's eyes and felt
as though she existed on two planes at once: the love in Katara's eyes, and Katara's body giving her
pleasure.

"Come for me, baby," Katara whispered against her mouth.

Azula moaned, her hips rolling with Katara's firm touch and their shared fierce pleasure. It was too
much all at once. She was afraid of falling, afraid of what would happen when she crested. She
depended so much, so much… She needed in a way she'd never thought she would.

In her waking moments, she sometimes wondered when Katara would leave her. But not now.
Now, looking into Katara's eyes, seeing her gentle smile, feeling her powerful touch, Azula knew
that Katara would take care of her. Katara would be there for her always.

Katara kissed her gently. "Let go. Come for me, baby. I love you."

Azula came with an unconscious cry as her body jerked in deep pleasure. The tension in her chest
released, prompting a few gasping sobs into Katara's shoulder even as she shuddered from
aftershocks of pleasure. Katara held her close and hushed her gently until she calmed.

When Azula was aware of herself again, she tugged at Katara's tunic. "Quickly."

Katara nodded and rolled away to shuck her clothes unceremoniously. When Katara settled back
over her, Azula urged her to climb her body. Katara threw her head back and gasped as she settled
over Azula's mouth. Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's hips and reveled in her suppressed
cries—still so worried about being overheard by servants, after all this time…

Azula luxuriated in the feel of Katara against her, the shivers and grinds she stimulated as Katara
lost some of her control, her musky taste and wet heat, and the feel of Katara's soft breasts in her
hands. All too soon Katara shuddered and stilled, giving a soft gasp that Azula loved to hear. Azula
made a noise of complaint when Katara pulled away from her mouth a few moments later.

"Mmm…that was good," she murmured, licking her lips smugly.

Katara shakily settled against her side and snuggled close. "Very," Katara agreed with a sigh.
Azula turned her head to see Katara studying her intently. Katara met her eyes, and her voice was
quiet with truth. "I love you."
Azula ran a finger down Katara's nose, taking in the softness of her features and the gentleness of
her eyes. "Thank you for knowing what I need."

That earned a slow smile. Katara pulled Azula close. "Sleep," she said. Azula relaxed into the
sheets and her lover and complied.

"Zuzu, what are you holding in your hand?"

Zuko raised his eyebrow. He didn't retract his hand or the hairpiece in it. "A royal crest."

"The crest of the Fire Lord," Azula pointed out slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"Yeah," he said with a particular tone of condescension that Azula was fairly certain she'd taught
him. He pulled it off well, coiffed and dressed in full formal wear, wearing his own hairpiece with
dignity. Or pretending to.

"I am not the Fire Lord. Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because I'm Fire Lord, and I command you to put it on."

Azula folded her arms and remained silent. She was rapidly losing patience. The morning had been
a long one, especially with all the tugging and pulling and fussing and hair wrenching involved
with getting dressed and prepped for this damn portrait. She had two more to look forward to in the
near future, in a time when she needed to concentrate all her attention on the coming wedding.

"We aren't sitting for this painting until you put it on. If you don't, I'm going to tell Mom you
refused to cooperate."

"Really? You've fallen back to 'I'm telling Mommy'?"

Zuko gave her a pointed look. Yes, that was a stupid thing to say; 'I'm telling Mommy' still worked.
She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Zuko gave her the hairpiece, and Azula responded by
lifting her middle finger. "This doesn't mean I'm taking over your job."

He didn't even pretend that wasn't the whole point of this stupid little exercise. "All I'm asking is
that you sit in on a few trade meetings. I thought women would do anything for a hairpiece."

She didn't deign to respond to that worthless statement. She bent her head, and Kota swapped out
her hairpieces. The Fire Lord crest was surprisingly heavy. Wearing it now felt like cheating. "If
you hadn't realized, I'm a little busy."

"I said a few trade meetings, not a restitution negotiation."

Azula could hardly contain her disgust. She thankfully had never had to sit in one of those
meetings, but she knew they lasted days. Demands would creep higher and higher with every
concession, but the only chance of not expiring from old age in the meeting was to give
concessions. In other words, it was always lose-lose.

"Are we still doing those?"

"We aren't. I am."

"The war ended seven years ago."

"Yeah, well, tell that to all of the Earth Kingdom farmlands Ozai destroyed that still can't grow a
weed. Why the hell did you tell him to burn everything?"

Azula focused on her vague embarrassment at the memory instead of the anger Ozai's name
invoked in her. "I was speaking figuratively about what it would take to win a war of attrition. Ozai
was a little overzealous with his interpretation, but I certainly wasn't going to correct him. I do
wonder how he thought he could torch the entire country in half a day when it takes a solid week to
traverse the land in war blimps."

Zuko shook his head as he sat down on the waiting chair. "I can't believe I used to think he was
smart."

She stood at his shoulder to pose for the painter. Of course the Fire Lord got to sit. The Princess
had to stand. It was a symbolic pose that demonstrated Azula stood in support of Zuko and
protected his back from his enemies.

From her position, she studied where the shell of his ear was melted into his scalp. Once he'd
hidden it in his shaggy hair. Now that he was Fire Lord, he'd let his hair grow out as thick and long
as Azula's. It was pulled sharply away from his face, drawing attention to his mottled scar. He
wore his scar with pride now, and he had her respect for that.

"You should fire your minister of seas. He's overcharging on tariffs and pocketing the extra
money."

Zuko's shoulder twitched. "You know this for sure?"

"Yes." Her new servants were exceedingly useful.

He exhaled slowly. "Any suggestions to replace him?"

"That I can't help with. Perhaps Mai has a suggestion." She said it knowing Mai didn't give a
dragon shit about politics. Zuko made a rude noise, and Azula laughed before she could help
herself. The painter frowned at both of them. "My Lords, if you would remain still…"

They were quiet for a few minutes before Zuko said, "You and Katara put on a show last night."

She flicked her eyes to his shoulder in surprise. "Put on a show for whom?"

"Oh, basically the whole visiting party. We were having dinner in the gardens. I thought Aang's
head was going to pop off when Katara started screaming."

Azula heaved a sigh, only partly for Zuko's benefit. It was a tad embarrassing to realize they'd
apparently been visible to a party in Ursa's gardens. Usually no one supped out there; there was
little natural light in the evening. Oh well. If she'd provoked the Avatar's anger, it was worth it.

"I didn't know you danced." That was Zuko's dig, probably the only reason he'd brought the whole
thing up.

"Precious little else to do, wasting away on Ember Island," she replied dryly. She would not be
embarrassed by her stupid big brother. "Apparently it's a new fad among the nobles. There's a
dance instructor on Ember Island."

"Really?"

"He makes a living doing it." She left out that she'd helped him make a living. Zuko turned around
to give her an incredulous look. She said, "I know. Astounding."
The painter cleared his throat again. "My Lords…"

They resigned themselves to remaining still to get the portrait over with. Still but not silent. She
started humming an off-tune variant of a song Zuko hated. He retaliated by clicking his fingernails
in a way that made her teeth clench. She sucked her teeth, and Zuko tried to cover the noise by the
particularly annoying squeak of his foot in his boot. And so on. Through it all, they remained still
for two heavy bell tolls of the great clock in the antechamber.

At the end of it, the painter looked just as relieved as they were to finish with the sitting portion of
the portrait.

Afterwards, Zuko motioned to his waiting bodyservant. "Food on a platter for us both. Fruit juice to
drink. I will have wine."

"Where will you eat, Fire Lord?" the man asked.

"Bring it here so I may take it where I want to eat." There was some royal command in Zuko's
voice. He was finally getting it down after all these years.

A few minutes later, they slipped through the dark passages of the palace to share lunch in Zuko's
'secret' room. Zuko took a hearty bite out of his dumpling and leaned back in his chair. Whatever
royalty had been in his posture minutes earlier was gone with that plate of dumplings balanced on
his slouching stomach. "Is the coup attempt ready?"

"Yes. Quite. Finally." Azula allowed exasperation to color her voice. "I never expected to have to
do all the heavy lifting."

"Are they that stupid?" Zuko's expression abruptly soured when he saw she'd altered the name
carved into the arm of his chair to 'Zuzu'.

"Half of them are incompetent and eager. The other half are incompetent and cautious. They're all
incompetent and traitors." Azula nibbled at a dumpling to discover it was filled with shrimp. She
ate the rest of it in a bite and reached for another. "The plan is about as stupid of one as I've ever
heard of; I'm embarrassed to be a part of it. But they should be ready for your wedding."

"The public one, right? Mai doesn't give a crap about it, but she'll never let me touch her again if
we screw up the private one."

"Does she know?"

Zuko looked at her expressionlessly. "Does Katara know?"

"Yes, of course, you idi—" She cut herself off when she realized her own question had been
exceedingly stupid. She rolled her eyes in reply to his silly sneer. He asked again, "So, definitely
the public ceremony?"

Azula waved off his concerns. "Everything will be over and done with by the time you have your
private wedding… There is another matter." She motioned for the soy sauce, and she had her
brother's attention as he handed it to her. "I've found out about a shadow benefactor. You won't like
who it is."

"The Bouli family," Zuko said without missing a beat.

Azula raised an eyebrow, giving him a half-nod to communicate she was impressed. The soy sauce
was a sharp salty pleasure on her palate. "Did one of your spies overhear that conversation?"
Zuko was too guileless to lie believably so she trusted his look of surprise. "Conversation? No, my
aids found out they've been pumping a lot of money into Ba Sing Se—into a sect that's been pretty
adamant about dethroning me—and skimming more off of taxes. They just hid it well." He
frowned in vague disappointment. "I thought they were one of my allies. They're funding the coup
attempt?"

"I don't know if their money is involved, but they certainly know what's happening. They could be
hoping to hedge their bets." Azula cocked her head. "Any special requests as far as they're
concerned?"

"As much as I hate that kind of thing, I'd rather deal with them myself. Do you need anything from
me?"

"I have everything arranged," Azula replied. "So long as you trust me."

It was meant flippantly, but Zuko was serious in his reply. "Yes, I do."

"Then I must ask something else."

He nodded.

"Your guard should be present. But they should not intervene. Give them strict and quiet orders not
to protect you."

After a slight hesitation, Zuko nodded again. "Done."

He might be done, but she wasn't. There was still much to plan in the following week. She would
be ready though. She was anticipating it.

Azula kept hoping Katara would say she didn't actually want to sit for their painting. She hoped it
through sitting all morning squashed between Iroh and Zuko and Ursa, wanting to murder them all
by the end of it. She hoped it as she ate a distracted lunch with her servants, planning and double-
checking and making sure every detail was ready for the next day.

She hoped it until she saw Katara waiting for her in their sitting room wearing a beautiful silk robe.
It was sharp contrast of white on blue, of ocean and moon and…Katara was exquisite in it. She
smiled and blushed when Azula drew up short at the sight of her.

Azula was as surprised by Katara's robes as she was by the robes Katara had ordered for her. Hers
were blue as well, but contrasting sharp red on blue: fire and dragons sweeping in a pattern across
her body. Another reminder of her failure…another reminder of her maintained lie. At least it was a
pretty reminder.

"You may like to see me in your clothing, but I think I like to dress you," Katara said with a teasing
smile. She ran a hand along Azula's robed arm and kissed her. They were both careful of their
makeup. Katara promised, "I'll try to make this as painless as possible for you."

"My stupid brother won't be there so that's a marked improvement already."

Azula's blood pressure increased now as she remembered Zuko's toe kicking the back of her ankle
in rapid, gentle repetition for three hours on end. He always exaggerated what she'd gotten away
with as a child, but if there had been any imbalance in their karmas, it was erased by that morning
alone. Azula's head had been so hot by the end of it she was sure she might regain her bending just
to spontaneously combust.
Ursa viewed family portraits as a commemoration of love and happiness and all of those other silly
emotions she touted. What she seemed to forget was the family always came away from sitting for
them wanting to kill each other.

Katara wound her arm through Azula's, and they walked down to the airy sun room in the east
wing where the painter waited. The painter took one look at their robes and deflated. Azula had
absolutely no sympathy for the fact he would have to paint the intricate detail of their clothing; he'd
been frightfully slow with his sketches that morning while Zuko tapped out a rhythm on her ankle.

The man gathered himself in an admirable effort and motioned towards the chair he'd set up in the
sunlight.

One chair.

Azula's anger from that morning returned twofold.

"Why are there not two chairs?" Azula asked quietly before her temper exceeded her patience.
Because Katara was present, she had to give the benefit of the doubt. It was possible the painter
wanted one of them to pose at the other's shoulder in symbolic support of the seated individual.
That pose was unacceptable, but it didn't carry the same insult as Azula's first impression.

The painter was oblivious to her anger. "The consort shall kneel, of course."

Kneeling... He wanted Katara to kneel at her knees?! That pose was for children, slaves, and
concubines. It was not the place of Katara, who was Azula's equal in all things. She turned her
naked rage on the painter, and he visibly balked. "Another chair," she commanded quietly.

"Azula, what's so important about a chair?" Katara sounded more shocked than angry. The painter,
meanwhile, stood there with his mouth open like an idiot.

"Another chair!" Azula hadn't meant to shout, but her temper was too great to contain her anger.
Katara jumped, and the painter lurched away to the corner of the room. He tripped over himself,
caught his balance against a chair there, and dragged it with a screech over the wooden floor. He
staggered back two steps and bowed.

Azula touched the back of that chair and smoothed her hands over it to soothe herself. She took a
long breath to calm her racing heart. She shifted it so that she would sit with her knees against
Katara's and pointedly sat in the second chair, not the first.

She didn't release the painter from his bow. His shoulders had begun to tremble.

Katara sat down beside her. Instead of the anger Azula expected, she seemed perplexed. "Are you
alright?" she asked softly.

Azula smoothed her hands down her robes and held her left hand out. Katara took it and gave her a
gentle squeeze and a worried smile.

"It's been a long day," Azula said tightly.

She didn't release Katara's hand and didn't deign to turn her eyes to the painter as he backed away.
The man trembled unhappily behind his easel, vibrating with the question of whether he could
begin or not, but he was too frightened to ask. In the wake of her pointed silence, he began. He said
nothing about remaining still or keeping a straight face or their postures, and he was faster for it.

Looking at Katara soothed Azula's foul temper. She pushed the painter from her mind and rubbed
her thumb against Katara's hand, coaxing a smile. Azula was able to smile back, and she settled
into a much better mood, especially when she thought of the wedding the next day. If all went
well, no one would dare speak out against Katara again.

The intimate friends of the royal party gathered for an informal marriage rehearsal that evening.
Azula worked through dinner with her servants—everything had to be perfect for the morrow—and
sent Katara ahead of her with a promise to make it down at some point. Azula kept her promise,
but she arrived so late that she'd missed the actual rehearsal. Everyone was drinking in the gardens
in apparent relaxation.

Ursa wasn't pleased by Azula's tardiness or by her casual clothes. She met Azula as she stepped out
into the gardens and spoke in sharp disapproval. "You're late."

"My role in this ceremony is minimal. I process in, stand behind Mai, and twiddle my thumbs for
as long as it takes the Fire Sage to drone on about the sanctity of marriage. Et cetera ad nauseam."
Azula accepted fruit juice from a servant and glanced across the gardens to where Zuko and his
Avatar friends were laughing over food and alcohol. Her brother appeared to be miming a royal
toast.

Toasting was a pompous custom. Azula would give the final toast of the wedding party to Zuko,
and she was still ruminating over how she wanted to say what she needed to. She had other more
important things to worry about though.

"This is a party to celebrate Mai and Zuko, and you weren't here! Tell me you've gotten them an
appropriate gift."

"Yes, I have a gift prepared. Now that we've agreed I missed the 'celebration', may I go?"

Ursa's expression was dark; she seized Azula's arm. "Come and sit down. That is not a request."
She had the nerve to say it when Iroh was obviously dozing on his hand at the table.

"I sat for three paintings, Mom. Please be happy with that." She lowered her voice as she
remembered the insult of the afternoon. "Don't hire that painter again."

"What did he do?"

Azula watched Katara laugh at the table and traced the familiar curve of her face and line of her
neck with her gaze. "He wanted Katara to kneel."

Ursa's expression softened, and she sighed. She reached out and smoothed Azula's tunic across her
shoulders. "You have such fierce loyal pride, sweetie. Did she know what that meant?"

"Did you want me to tell her that he was suggesting she was my slave?" she snapped. Azula knew
as soon as she said it that her tone wouldn't be tolerated, but Ursa only said, "I won't hire him again
then."

Sokka caught sight of Azula and gesticulated towards the empty seat next to him. "Azula, sparring
buddy, come and sit next to me!" He slurred just enough to betray he'd had too much to drink. Over
his shoulder, Suki pulled a sour expression. Katara was watching so Azula resigned herself to it.
She extricated herself from her mother's grip and approached the table to sit next to him. Sokka
immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Let me go of me," she commanded sharply.

He squeezed her. "Aw, come on. We totally bonded."

"We attacked each other with wooden practice swords."

"Yep. And you didn't kill me. Bonding!"

"Azula, if you want to kill him now, you can." Katara giggled across the table. Apparently she'd
been drinking too, but she didn't seem as far gone as Sokka. Predictably, the Avatar had taken the
seat next to Katara. He was sitting closer than strictly necessary, but Katara leaned on her elbow
towards Zuko, who sat on her other side.

"You wound me!" Sokka gasped in sorrow. "That's all I get for being your wonderful protective big
brother, huh?"

Azula shrugged his grip off of her gently. "You're going to regret all that alcohol when you're
standing in the sun in front of hundreds of nobles tomorrow. Not that you'd be the first person to
vomit at the Fire Lord's wedding. There's an old tale about a Fire Lord that vomited on the dais. All
his noble subjects were so loyal they mimicked him. It took weeks to clean the temple grounds."

Sokka poked her in the shoulder with a dopey grin. To Azula's surprise, he didn't latch onto her
story. "I am totally getting you drunk one of these days. I owe you that since you're basically my
sister-in-law now."

"I do not drink," Azula sniffed with utmost dignity. She wasn't sure how to reply to the other aspect
of his pronouncement. Across the table, Katara smirked at her. The Avatar had predictably gone
still—probably in anger. He scowled down into his glass and then stood up and walked away
without a word.

"Who doesn't drink?" Sokka asked. "That makes no sense."

"You're talking to my little sister," Zuko said with a relaxed smile. "Azula doesn't make sense."

Azula sipped her drink and regarded him over the rim of her cup, remembering her annoyance from
earlier that day. Time to watch him squirm. "Be careful, Zuzu. I may decide to tell Mom about the
one time in your childhood you actually lied to her."

He actually looked alarmed for a moment, coaxing her to jeer at him. How predictable. Abruptly,
he scowled. "I got punished for so many things you did! Grandmother Ilah's tapestry—"

"You set it on fire."

"You dared me to!"

"And you were stupid enough to take the dare."

He didn't have anything to say to that. "Putting the garden snake in that minister's bed! You were
the one who did that, but I got punished for it."

Azula recalled the event and the minister. It was one of few times Zuko had been persuaded into
mischief after Ursa's banishment and Ozai's appointment as Fire Lord. He'd probably mainly gone
along with it because he hadn't liked the man in question. "You were there and guilty by
association."

"Oh, oh, I remember that guy!" Ty Lee leaned across the table eagerly. She clasped her hands in a
begging gesture. "Do your impression of him, Princess. Please!"
As a child, she'd loved imitating many of Azulon and then Ozai's ridiculous ministers and
councilmen. It was how she'd first learned to judge people's characters: how they spoke, held their
faces, gathered their presence, and so on.

After Zuko's banishment, Ozai had caught her at the act. He'd made it clear such silliness wasn't
appropriate for the heir apparent to the Fire Nation throne. Azula remembered Ozai's blows and
sharp words, and for once felt a rush of rebellious anger towards him. He was no longer a factor in
her life; she gave him a mental middle finger as she decided to humor Ty Lee's request. Everyone
was drunk anyway; they probably wouldn't remember it in the morning.

Azula rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. "Oh, well, I suppose."

There was a certain technique for a worthwhile impression. Azula rolled her neck, hunched
forward, and drew her shoulders tight. She drew her presence down into her crotch, where the
minister had carried his. She steepled her fingers—Ty Lee was giggling already—adopted a
deadpan expression, and pitched her voice into a nasal imitation of the minister's tones. "Young
Printhe Thuko." She cleared her throat gravely as she watched Zuko's face break into a grin. "You
thould to apply yourthelf more thudiouthly to your lethonth. Your thithter, the printheth, ith far
more theriouth than yourthelf."

This wasn't the first time they'd heard her impression, but Ty Lee and Zuko were laughing just as
much as they had as kids. Mai even smiled, though she tried to hide it. Everyone else at the table
was staring at Azula like she'd grown a second head—even Katara, who knew her better than
anyone else here.

Suki leaned around Sokka to goggle at her. "Okay, that was weird. I don't think I've had enough to
drink to start hallucinating. Was that really Azula?"

Azula glanced across the table to Katara, who began to giggle when their eyes met. She turned to
Suki and enjoyed Suki's horror as much as Katara's amusement. "Thuki, you muth thtretch your
awareneth to the truly experieth the realitieth of the univerthe."

Suki just stared at her. Sokka's gape turned into a broad grin and an exaggerated gasp. He seized
Azula and Suki in each of his arms and dragged them into an uncomfortable hug. To Azula's
horror, he kissed the top of each of their heads. "I love my family! Katara, why didn't you tell me
your girlfriend's so hilarious!"

"Laugh it up. I just used up my allotment of impressions for the next decade," Azula informed
Sokka as she pulled away from his grip. "And you've used up all the hugs you're allowed in my
lifetime. Kiss me again, and I will murder you."

Zuko wiped his eyes and heaved a few happy sighs as he calmed down. "I'd forgotten about his
lisp. He always spit all over us, didn't he? I don't know why Ozai kept him around."

That was simple. "During council meetings, Ozai would put him next to whoever had irritated him
last to brave his spit storm. Every councilman kept an extra handkerchief ready just in case."

"He screamed like a little girl when he got in bed with the snake." Zuko still turned his accusation
to her. "But that doesn't change the fact that I was the one punished for it."

"Ozai hit me too. Unlike you, I had the decency not to whine about it." Azula moved on before
Ursa could predictably divert the conversation to a discussion about how awful Ozai was. "But I
was referring to Mom's fire broach."
Ursa straightened, startling Iroh out of his doze momentarily. "My mother's fire broach?"

"I had nothing to do with its disappearance," Azula pronounced, watching with glee as Zuko
shrank into his seat. Was he really that scared of Ursa finding out the truth fifteen years after the
fact? "Despite my innocence, I was sent to bed without supper, took a healthy spanking, and lost
my right to play with my friends for weeks."

"I remember that!" Ty Lee said with a laugh. She draped herself across the table with a groan. "It
was so boring playing with just Mai. All she did was make eyes at Zuko the whole time."

Mai sighed and gave a vague eye roll.

Ursa turned to Zuko in apparent disbelief. "No. Zuko, did you really take my fire broach? What did
you do with it?"

"I may have accidentally…fed it to a komodo rhino." Zuko winced. A round of snickers resulted.

"It's funny, isn't it? That first whiff of the truth." Azula adopted an airy tone, addressing their
mother. "Obedient little Zuzu lied and blamed his poor, innocent little sister for a misdeed that he
performed."

"I felt guilty over that for years!" Zuko declared with a laugh.

"You should have. Don't you know lying is a horrible misdeed?"

"You're such a hypocrite! How can you say that with a straight face?"

"I'm a very good liar." Azula's deadpan expression broke into a smirk despite herself.

Zuko groaned in feigned frustration.

Ursa put her face in her hands and began to laugh. When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled
with tears. Both Azula and Zuko stilled in instinctual alarm. He gasped, "What's wrong, Mom?"

"I'm glad you two remember the good times together too," she said with a sniffle.

Azula relaxed now that that possible disaster had been diverted. She turned her feigned alarm to
Zuko, willing to let go enough to tease. She met his eyes and said, "Zuko, we need to retreat before
she demands a family hug."

Zuko played along. "Quick, Mai! Say something about fashion and distract Mom for us!"

"I don't know how it's possible, but you two only get stupider when you're together," Mai muttered.
Ursa was still sniffling at them, but she was smiling now.

"I think they're cute," Katara declared, watching Azula across the table with that tender look. Azula
gave a mock shudder but offered a smile. She stood. "At that horrifying statement, it's time for me
to retire. Good night. Please drink plenty of water and try not to vomit on the dais tomorrow."

"I'll come up in a little while," Katara said. Lurking in the shadows near the table, the Avatar
stiffened. Azula wondered if he was ever going to finally confront her in a physical altercation. It
couldn't be healthy to carry around that much passive aggression towards one person. Azula gave
him a little wave as she walked by.

On her way back to her rooms, Azula was surprised to see a familiar dusty figure walking down
the hallway with her fingertips on the wall. Azula knew Zuko had invited her—she'd written the
invitation herself—but she'd assumed the earthbender would spurn attending such a formal
wedding.

"Toph Bei Fong."

Toph had stopped and turned at the sound of her footsteps, and now she grinned at the sound of
Azula's voice. They exchanged metal letters every few months, but Azula hadn't seen her in person
in over a year. Toph had put on more weight in muscle and was the embodiment of an earthbender.

"Hey, Princess Snooty-pants. I thought that prim walk was you."

"I do not walk primly," Azula denied, irritated at the thought. "You're a little late for the rehearsal."

"It's a wedding. How hard could it be?"

"Tell that to my mother." Azula flicked her eyes down the hallway to be sure they were alone. She
lowered her voice. "Did you get my last letter?"

Toph's face split in a conspiratorial grin. "Yep. My lips are sealed. I'll pretend I'm blind."

"Hilarious," Azula muttered.

Toph punched her shoulder; Azula winced despite herself. "At least I'll have something to look
forward to while I suffer through the stupid ceremony." Toph swiveled her head around. "You and
Zuko promised me booze if I got here tonight. I demand my booze!"

Azula took hold of Toph's muscled shoulders and turned her around. "Straight down the
passageway. Make a left at the first hall, and straight out to the gardens. There you will find drink,
drunk, and drunker."

"Aye, aye, Captain Firebitch!"

Azula continued to her rooms and was pleased that her servants were waiting for her. She settled
down with them after Kota closed the study door. Sometime during the next few hours, Katara
opened the door to Azula's study. The man sitting across from Azula stiffened, then relaxed so that
his broad shoulders drooped. He lowered his head and settled back from the candle-lit table.

Katara spared him a curious glance before she turned her eyes to Azula. "Come to bed."

They had been wrapping up anyway. Azula got to her feet and followed her consort into the sitting
room and through to their bedroom. As they pulled on their sleeping robes, Katara asked, "Was
that a new servant?"

"Yes." Azula settled into bed, pulled her close, and kissed her softly. She was excited about the
following day, but her pent up energy faded away as Katara's hands rubbed a soothing pattern on
her back. Azula tucked her head against Katara's shoulder and relaxed. Sleep came quickly.

"How do I look?"

"You're beautiful."

"You haven't even looked at me."

Azula stared down at Kota's perfect part as her servant adjusted her black belt so the golden trim
was even across her waist. Her trousers were hidden beneath several layers of heavy silk, as was
appropriate for the Fire Lord's wedding.

It was a beautiful robe, black silk with gold and red trim detailed into tiny dragons. The dragons
were reproduced in great size to sweep across her back and over her shoulders. It fit perfectly, as it
should after months of being measured and re-measured by tailors Mai constantly sent down to
Ember Island. Azula still suspected most of those visits were purely to annoy her. Ursa would be so
pleased to see Azula wasn't tying her sleeves that day.

"Katara, I don't need to look at you to know it's true."

Kota's ears went pink. Interesting.

Azula turned her head to finally look at Katara. For this venue, Katara also wore formal black Fire
Nation robes, though the trim was blue and white and the design across her back was elaborate koi.
Her hair had been tamed back and up into a tight topknot with a noblewoman's hairpiece made of
white and purple gold. It was the perfect combination of Fire Nation and Water Tribe, a sight that
made Azula's chest tighten in emotion.

"You're beautiful. It made no difference whether I said it looking at you or not."

"I can't decide if you've flattered me or not." Katara crossed her arms, but her stern expression
melted into a smile. She paused when her eyes took in Azula from top to bottom and back again.
"Wow."

"I do dress up well," Azula replied as she examined her polished red fingernails.

Katara's expression of appreciation fell away. She rolled her eyes. "I was referring to the lack of
sleeve ties," she lied. Her eyes flicked back up to Azula's hairpiece. "How did they dye the gold?"

Azula's hairpiece was also specially made: a triple flame with melded yellow gold and red gold—
though it was closer to pink than red because of its purity. No one in the cohort group wore cheap
coated zinc hairpieces appropriate for everyday wear. Ursa had vetoed that. Apparently Mai's
demand for colored gold stemmed from her spite of Ursa's demands. What resulted was a hairpiece
with a pure yellow gold base that was so heavy it required special supports hidden in her hair.

Learning all of this drama in the last few weeks made Azula almost wish she'd been here to see it in
person.

"Copper is melded with gold, turning it red. Mai wanted blue gold for your headpiece, but indium
would have been outrageously expensive. Instead, they settled with aluminum for the purple
color."

"Outrageously expensive?" Katara echoed incredulously. "This outfit is already outrageously

expensive. How much more would a bit of gold be? Not that I care one way or another about a
hairpiece I'll never wear again."

"Ten grams of blue gold could feed all the mouths of Capital City for a week."

Katara's eyes rounded childishly. It was amusing that she could still be shocked by these things.

"The problem is the rarity of indium; it's only found in small flecks and rarely at that. Copper,
aluminum, and silver—which is used for green gold—are common and much cheaper."

"You know some of the stupidest things." Katara looked down at her sleeves in disgust. "I can't
believe the waste of money this is."
"Most of it is going to be auctioned after the ceremony and donated to relief funds for the lower
class, if that makes you feel better."

Katara actually did look relieved. Azula stepped away from her servant to brush a finger across
Katara's jaw and share a smile with her. She didn't lean in for the kiss she wanted; they were both
wearing makeup that had taken an hour to be applied and Azula was in no mood to sit through that
process again.

She took in Katara as a whole once more and wondered what Katara might wear on her own
wedding day—not that it would happen. Not stuffy Fire Nation robes. Azula felt a pang of irritation
at her own imagination. Katara wouldn't likely get married in the stuffy heat of the Fire Nation
either.

"How long is this going to take?"

If her conspirators did what they were supposed to, the ceremony would end after the vows were
complete to avoid requiring a repeat of the ceremony for Zuko and Mai. The ceremony would last
through late afternoon, and the feast would continue through the night. The royal party would
probably all retire by midnight; Azula planned to be back in bed by then at least. The nobles would
probably stay until dawn.

"A few hours for the ceremony, then a lot longer for the feast," Azula replied. She offered her
elbow, and Katara drew closer to her with a sigh. They stepped out of their rooms and began the
walk down the large corridor of the palace wing.

Katara admitted, "I can't say I'm looking forward to it. At least there's a good breeze today."

It was odd to have a compulsion to kiss Katara's hand. Azula stopped their progress so that she
could do so.

Down the corridor, someone made a rude noise. "Can we cut it out with these public displays of
affection? My poor eyes can't handle seeing my baby sister in these situations."

"What were they doing?" That was Toph's voice, always a pleasure.

"Tearing each other's clothes off."

Toph snorted. "I'm blind, not stupid, Sokka. Not only would Katara gut her, Azula's too prissy to do
that kind of thing in public."

"Shut up, Sokka and you too, Toph," Katara said. Her gaze didn't leave Azula's. Her lips twitched
into a smile for some reason. "Just because you two don't have a romantic bone in your bodies
doesn't mean my girlfriend isn't allowed to be romantic."

"Was I being romantic?" Azula asked, surprised at the thought. Consort, she wanted to correct, but
this was not the time.

Sokka gave a squawk of indignation. "See, Azula doesn't even know she's being romantic!"

Azula glanced at Sokka's companions. Like them, they wore black silk robes with trim and
hairpieces colored to designate their origins. The group had dressed up admirably, even Toph Bei
Fong, who usually disregarded things like personal hygiene. Suki looked like she was feeling the
effects of a hangover; Azula was kind enough not to point it out.

"Good day," she said to them all.

Toph grinned, an expression that clashed sharply with the full makeup she wore. "I got lost again
after the party last night. It's hard to navigate this stupid wooden palace, especially after a couple of
shots of good fire whiskey. I have to thank whoever it was that was screaming 'Katara, Katara,
Katara' last night for orienting me."

She would not blush at the blatant falsehood; Toph would hear it in her voice. "I am, as always,
happy to be of service."

The Avatar stiffened but didn't walk away for once. He looked at Katara, who sighed and tucked
her hand back into the crook of Azula's elbow. Katara ignored his beseeching look. Azula was
tempted to ask him if—Katara yanked pointedly on her arm. Well, it was a fun thought to almost
entertain. She supposed it was better to let the Avatar continue his silent treatment. She wondered
how many more years this would continue. Hopefully until he was dead and reincarnated into a
much more pleasant individual.

Toph turned her head to Azula; she was still grinning. "If you guys ever want some help with that,
I'm available. I learn by touch." She wiggled her callused fingers and waggled her eyebrows.

Azula humored the joke, despite Katara's slowly tightening grip on her arm. "If sleeping with you
didn't mean I would never sleep with Katara again, I might be tempted. After you were thoroughly
scrubbed down of course. I can't imagine what sort of horrible organisms make a home beneath
your grubby fingernails."

"I would totally rock your world."

Azula rolled her eyes and clucked sadly. "Toph, that was pathetic. I expected you to try something
a little more creative, like some implication that I'm a man. For example: 'I'll make you rock hard.'"

Katara pinched her. Laughing, Toph slung her arm over Azula and Katara's shoulders. Her bicep
bunched like iron against Azula's neck. "Stop pinching her, Katara."

Azula was surprised. "How did you know?"

"I heard the silk grind. And you took a little breath, Firebitch. Like this." Toph gave a soft little
sigh from her nose. "I'm assuming that was in pain."

"Toph," Katara said sharply.

Toph's sightless eyes widened; she turned a shit-eating grin to both of them. She slapped Katara
hard enough across the back that Azula had to hold on to her to keep her from falling. "Loosen up,
Katara. I was just fucking with you. Figuratively. I wasn't kidding though; I'm available to do it
literally too."

Azula could swear she heard Katara's teeth grind.

"So are there seriously no chairs for us?" Sokka asked quickly. His voice was overly loud and
provoked a wince from Suki. If he was trying to ward off Katara's temper, he managed. Azula was
almost disappointed. "Toph, can you fashion up some for us when we get out there? The temple
steps are made of stone, right?"

"I'm under strict orders not to earthbend. Sorry."

"Since when are you scared of Zuko?"

"I'm not scared of that pansy. Mai was the one who threatened me. I don't want to get on that
woman's bad side. She might behead a chicken skunk and put a curse on me."

As they walked down the wing, Azula noticed a servant loitering in the shadows. She extricated
herself from the happily chattering group and motioned them on. Katara gave her an odd look but
acquiesced without comment. Azula waited until they were out of sight to speak to the man. "I trust
you're prepared."

"We know everyone by sight, Princess. We are prepared."

Azula settled her arms behind her back and raised her chin to give her last orders. "No casualties."

"No, Princess. We will be discreet."

"I don't want discretion."

"We will be discreet until your signal."

She gave him a slight nod, and he bowed back. She saw the flash of his green eyes and the coil of
braid that slipped loose from his bun. She smiled.

Heat shimmered off of the packed earth and dry stone in clear waves. It was softened by the faint
breeze that was blowing in from the bay. Azula bore the brunt of the heat up on the stone dais of
the Fire Temple where she stood with the rest of Mai's numerous cohorts. It wouldn't be so
miserable for Azula if she could still bend the heat from beneath her robes.

Azula kept her eyes on the crowd and counted off the noblemen who were sworn to strike: thirteen
men. It was a fortuitously lucky number. Her own presence turned that lucky number into a very
unlucky one. It was only fitting.

The old sage droned on and on, reciting the marriage sacrament of the Fire Lord in the old
language. Clearly he wasn't elected to his post for his oration skills. Azula turned her attention to
her brother. He was apparently too busy staring into Mai's eyes to pay attention to the coup attempt
at his own wedding. His face broke into a half smile, and Mai's shoulders shifted just slightly.
They were cutting up. Juveniles.

Katara stood beside Azula, next in line of Mai's cohorts because of her consortium to Azula. To the
other side of Katara, Ty Lee fidgeted. If not for their recent union, Katara would be standing on the
other side of the dais as part of Zuko's cohorts. This was a better place; Katara would have a clearer
view of the event.

Azula turned her eyes back to the crowd. The nobles were growing restless: her traitors and the
multitude that attended the ceremony. Most of them were probably thinking of the lavish feast that
would follow the vows—and the barrels and barrels of wine, whiskey, and beer awaiting them. Her
nobles were thinking of blood.

Zuko's personal guards stood under the eaves of the surrounding temple wings, armed with bow
and arrow and spear. There were more guards at the edges of the crowd as well. There were also
full platoons from the navy that were posted around the walls of the temple and in the streets.

Citizens of the Fire Nation had arrived in droves to Capital City to celebrate the Fire Lord's
marriage. The troops had been placed to keep order especially with the masses of people who
waited at the temple walls to catch sight of the Fire Lord and his new bride. All pilgrims would be
fed by the crown today, and Mai had ordered thousands of small rice-paper cards with generic
thankful messages to be passed out to everyone who was in the royal district that day. The cards
were in part designed to allow poorer travelers to make some coin back for their journey, but they
could also be kept as household treasures. It was a nice gesture, one that hopefully would become
custom with Zuko's progeny.

It was no wonder this was the most expensive Fire Lord marriage in recorded history. Maybe the
money was a waste in one sense, but the people needed this as a symbol of hope after the shocking
depression and upheaval that had rocked the Fire Nation after the war ended.

This ceremony would mark several new beginnings: first a marriage. The second beginning would
be a failed coup. Azula shivered in anticipation and quickly calmed herself.

Another fifteen minutes of droning chants, then finally the Fire Sage murmured the age old
question—first in the ancient language, then in the universal one: "In all our fealties: man to
woman, woman to man, man to lord, and lord to Fire Lord, we must realize that Fire Lord is a title
bestowed by the old gods, but it may be taken away by mortals. Any such mortal here should
declare himself now and stand to take such a claim away from this Fire Lord."

Azula's heart thundered in her ears as she reached into her wide sleeve, curled her fingers around
the handle of her dagger, and drew it with a sweet rasp of metal. Beside her, Katara gave a muted
gasp.

Her nobles burst through the crowd, knives unsheathed and flaming, Lam at their head.

Maybe if Azula hadn't lied, if she could still bend, if she had taken Zuko's guard as her own, their
ploy would work. She would take two steps and plunge her fire-caressed dagger into Zuko's chest
and start a war. But in that scenario, it would have worked only because she made it work. These
men were fools to think for a moment that she would share a coup with them.

Azula opened her fingers, and her dagger clattered to the stone.

Twenty-two Dai Li agents, unmistakable in their garb, burst through the stone steps and seized the
usurpers before they'd gone more than three strides towards Zuko.

In that time, not one of Zuko's many powerful friends had moved to form a defense. It had
happened quickly enough that Azula had started and finished the action on her own terms. Exactly
as she'd hoped.

What a fierce victory. It was unfortunate that it had to all happen so quickly. The nobles were
murmuring in surprise, but they hadn't quite figured out what had happened. Her silly little traitors
were just realizing the truth of it themselves as Azula's Dai Li stripped them of their knives and
cuffed them in stone. Azula smiled sharply at Lam, who looked back at her in horror. Tazu
wouldn't meet her eyes; he was sobbing with his head hanging low. They knew they were defeated
and didn't struggle.

I am a dragon. Azula felt the truth of her claim then and let them see it in her face.

The leader of the Dai Li, her own Fung Tao, stepped before Azula, saluted her, and went on one
knee. He took her knife in his hand and presented it to her, handle first. As she'd commanded, he
ended the nobles' uncertainty with his loud report. "The usurpers are apprehended, Princess; their
coup has been crushed."

The dais was designed for voices to carry, and his words were audible to every noble there. The
crowd began to murmur furiously as they realized what had just happened. Azula imagined that
every set of eyes in the Fire Temple courtyard was focused on her. She smiled fiercely as she
accepted her dagger and slipped it back into her sleeve. She raised her voice so it could be heard as
well. "Thank you, Captain Tao. Escort these traitors of the Fire Nation to the dungeons where they
will await hanging."

The crowd's murmur raised to a din as Zuko pushed past Mai to stand next to her. "Dai Li?
Really?" His tone was sharp and lowered to prevent it from echoing; he made no attempt to hide
his exasperation from her even as he presented a calm face for the crowd.

On the dais, Toph Bei Fong had begun to laugh boisterously, and murmurs finally spread among
their powerful allies. Zuko's gaze flicked over his shoulder towards them; he realized he would
have to control the situation from both ends. He raised his hands to the crowd and adopted the
voice of royal command. "Noblemen, everything is under control. Please proceed to the feast!"

The nobles were abruptly unwilling to leave for the waiting feast and alcohol as they watched the
traitors escorted across the temple grounds by men clad in Earth Kingdom green. After all, scandal
was their favorite dish. Azula found it rather sweet as well.

Mai slipped between Zuko and Azula. Her expression was far from displeased. If Azula thought
she was actually capable of the emotion, she would have assumed Mai was happy. "You do have a
talent for making life more interesting, Azula." Her sharp nails caressed Azula's neck, and she
pressed a kiss to Azula's cheek, purely for the benefit of the watching nobles.

Azula couldn't stop the smirk that Mai began to mirror. "Your pleasure is my pleasure, Fire Lady."

"Did all of you know about this?" Ursa demanded in a hiss. From the look on Zuko's face, she'd
pinched his arm. Ursa's reaction was probably exactly what was causing Mai's smirk. Azula had
just completely overshadowed a ceremony Ursa spent almost a year planning. Iroh was less
transparent; he wore a serious expression. His eyes sought Azula's, but she didn't return his look.

Katara abruptly seized her hand. By her grip, she wasn't exactly pleased either. Azula had expected
Katara's irritation, but she hoped it would be a transient emotion. Azula turned her head to judge
Katara's expression when one of the traitors began to shout and struggle.

All but one of the traitors was quiet. They kept their heads down and faces turned away from the
crowd though they had no hope of remaining anonymous. All attempted some measure of dignity
except Lam—young, foolish, conceited Lam. He struggled against the stone bindings around his
arms and shouted over his shoulder. His words rang across the courtyard and silenced the crowd,
and he belched red fire with them.

"Coward! Fucking whore! Traitor! Azula!" The last shout was the rudest, in Azula's opinion. This
man had no right to use her name without title. She could kill him with a twitch of her fingers, but
he didn't deserve such an easy death.

Her Dai Li captain, Fung Tao, frowned. "Shall I have him gagged, Princess?"

She flicked her fingers in decline, anticipating the rage she could now provoke. She raised her
voice to address Lam. "You call me a traitor, Lam, grandson of Lam, when it is you who would so
attempt to murder my brother, on his wedding day."

His face twisted in rage. "I demand Agni Kai to right this wrong! You, Azula, betrayed us!"

Zuko's voice was strong as it boomed out along the dais. "You don't have that—"

Azula's voice was stronger. "I accept your challenge!"

 You win some...
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Zuko didn't waste any time cornering her in the quiet of the Fire Sage Temple after the ceremony.
The din of the feast outside could be heard. Zuko smelled of sweat and his face was tight in anger.
Azula motioned for him to follow her into an old, musty worship room that one of the sages had
guaranteed to be private. Fung Tao, her Dai Li captain, also followed at her gesture. Zuko declined
to sit, so she stood as well.

She was glad to be able to turn her mind from Katara's icy rage.

"How long have you had the Dai Li working for you?"

Azula sensed she would need to not only be truthful but act truthful as well. The big reveal hadn't
gone over well so far. She'd miscalculated in that, though probably her acceptance of Lam's Agni
Kai challenge had been the breaking point. She'd been so excited about this day and now all she
wanted was for it to end.

"As soon as I received your blessings to continue with the ploy, I wrote to Fung Tao for support.
He accepted and brought with him volunteers from his former numbers."

Zuko's jaw tightened. "How can you be sure they're still loyal to you?"

"If I may, Fire Lord," Tao interjected. His voice was as smooth and strong as it had been seven
years ago. His green eyes met and held Zuko's for a moment before he lowered them accordingly to
study the rim of the wide hat in his hands. "Princess Azula has had our loyalty since the coup of Ba
Sing Se. Some of our number slipped away, but the core of us remained ready to resume our duties.
It was a matter of waiting for her to recall us back."

"She was in prison for six months after the war. Apparently your loyalty didn't apply to that
situation." Zuko nearly snarled his accusation. He was much angrier than Azula had first guessed.

Tao gave Azula a quick glance. She nodded. He lowered his head in a bow. "Fire Lord Zuko. At
that time we made contact in secret to attempt to free Princess Azula. She declined our help."

Zuko's eyes fixed on her face; his face paled then flushed. His voice was quieter now. "Is that
true?"

"Yes, Zuko."

She barely remembered Fung Tao standing before her cell in the dark of night while her guard
snored in the hallway. The Dai Li agent had whispered of rescue and revolt. Revolt. Against the
Fire Nation. She would rather die than take up flame against her own people…and it was the only
way she would get out and stay out of that prison cell. Maybe she would have been able to accept
that situation, but with her ultimate, shameful loss to a waterbender and the certainty that she was
insane and her father was dead, Azula had nothing to offer them. She'd taken her inner rage out on
them in harsh screams until they fled before her guards arrived.

She'd sunk deep into depression at that point. Azula didn't like to think of how close she'd come to
taking her own life in that cell.
Zuko looked at her closely for an uncomfortable moment. Azula was for once afraid her thoughts
were written on her face. In all his anger, she still saw old guilt. After so many years, did he still
regret her treatment after the war? Finally, Zuko turned to Tao. "If you work for my sister, you
work for the Fire Nation."

"That is evident, Fire Lord. We will do what tasks Princess Azula assigns us."

"My Dai Li—" It tasted so sweet to say that. "—have gathered information on all the families
involved with the coup. You're welcome to it, and to all information gathered by chance."

"I won't tolerate shadow warfare," Zuko said sharply. "No influences, no overt spying. Absolutely
no hypnosis or brainwashing."

Tao answered for her. "Fire Lord, those were elements of Long Feng's leadership, not inherent to
the Dai Li. We will not be performing those…methods here."

Meaning they wouldn't do so unless it was at her order. An order she doubted she would ever give.
She'd never cared for the type of policing Long Feng had employed; too much was left to chance.
After all, she'd deposed him despite the Dai Li's power. And her people, whether nobility or not,
were guaranteed human rights against the tyranny of the Dai Li of Ba Sing Se.

"I want to talk to you alone." Zuko spoke to Azula with the same sharp command he'd given Tao. It
was a surprise to be on the receiving end of the Fire Lord's gaze and also strange to feel cowed, yet
that was exactly how she felt. It was ridiculous to feel this in the wake of the fierce victory she'd
just achieved for her brother and herself.

Azula nodded to Tao. As he turned to leave, Zuko exercised his implied power and commanded,
"Report to General Tso and Commander Tomo and send all the information you've gathered to my
secretary."

Tao glanced over his shoulder at Azula for confirmation; that he did so gratified her. She nodded,
and he lowered his head to acknowledge Zuko's order.

Silence followed Tao's exit. Then Zuko gave a heavy sigh in apparent frustration. "This was a lot
different than I'd hoped. The Earth Kingdom ambassador is going to shit boulders over this." His
voice went sharp, and he slammed his fist against the altar. A smoking incense stick rolled to the
floor. "Why the fuck did you accept Lam's Agni Kai challenge?"

She was carefully neutral in the face of his anger. "Neither you nor I can afford to look weak in the
wake of this attempt."

Zuko's lip curled. He looked shockingly like Ozai. "Don't tell me this was for me! This is about
your pride. Damn it, Azula." Now he sounded more exasperated than angry. "He could kill you.
Even if he doesn't and he just burns you, what am I supposed to do? Hang him anyway or let him
walk away?"

Was he worried about her? How odd. Her emotions warred between childish gratification that he
loved her and irritation that he didn't know her well enough to understand she could kill a fool like
Lam in her sleep.

"It's moot. He won't burn me. He won't kill me. I'll burn him and kill him."

"I wash my hands of it," he said, shaking his hands as if miming his pronouncement. He stalked out
of the room in a grand brooding sweep of black robes.
Azula leaned down to pick up the incense stick and broke it between her fingers. She'd made quite
a few people angry that day. Most of those people were her allies, her loved ones. She hadn't
anticipated that at all. She'd assumed they would celebrate her victory with her. She was
disappointed, for herself and for them.

An ache had set in her scalp, but she would need the pompous headpiece for tonight.

A few minutes later, one of her Dai Li men escorted Laza inside. She, like all nobles in Capital
City, wore lavish robes fitting for the Fire Lord's wedding ceremony. Her glossy dark hair was
swept up in an elaborate fashion. Below her black hair, Laza's face was especially pale. Despite her
palpable fear, she didn't balk at the sight of Azula. She must have inherited her late mother's
dignity because Tazu had none to speak of.

Azula dismissed her man with a glance. She fingered her dragon dagger as she regarded the other
woman in silence. She motioned for Laza to take a seat on the wooden bench and leaned back on
the altar so that the carved wooden dragon that swept along the wall snarled over her shoulder.
"You made a dangerous gamble, Laza, daughter of Tazu."

Laza didn't reply. Instead of the coy sultriness she seemed to wear like a mask, she kept a calm
face. Her eyes were sharp with intellect when she met Azula's gaze. She was abruptly very
beautiful. It was a startling change.

"Was it worth it?"

"Was what worth it, Princess?" Laza's voice was as quietly calm as her face. There was no giggle,
not eyelash batting, no sultry look. This woman was astoundingly clever. She'd been intelligent
enough to throw away what pride she had to act like a fool, all to hide her intellect. She had tricked
Azula into overlooking her. For that alone, Laza had Azula's respect.

Azula clarified, "Marrying the woman you love. Was it worth the risk?"

Laza's eyes widened and her jaw clenched, but she didn't seem overly surprised that Azula knew
about her situation. Her answer was firm. "Yes."

"You could have eloped. Your lover makes a respectable coin." The family made a very
respectable coin according to her servants' information, and the head of the family was close to
retirement age. He would certainly pass his business on to his eldest daughter, making that coin
hers.

"Tazu would have ruined her," Laza said. "And I would have lost my standing."

The first was doubtful. Mongoose dragons had become a status symbol instead of a war beast in
recent peacetime. Now they were ridden or kept as expensive pets by nobles. Perhaps Tazu could
have used his noble influences to blacklist and bankrupt Laza's lover. Most probably he could not.
Laza, however, would have certainly lost her standing as a noblewoman by eloping with a
tradeswoman.

Azula imagined there was also some temptation at the idea that Tazu would hang as a traitor, if
what she'd learned about all the matches he'd made for his daughter were true. Old men, cruel men,
men who liked to control their women… And Laza had put them all off in the hopes of marrying
the daughter of a tradesman with no noble blood. For love. Azula wouldn't have understood it ten
years ago, but she understood now. She also understood Laza wanting to have both a wife and her
nobility.
"So you gambled on me."

Laza met her eyes and said, "Yes."

"You knew about a coup attempt and you didn't raise warning to the crown. That offense is
punishable by death."

Laza took a long breath and released it. Her expression was fragile with fear, especially when she
focused on Azula fingering her dagger.

"I rarely do this." Azula folded her hands in front of her and heaved an exaggerated sigh. "But I
owe you an apology for my…heavy-handedness, shall we call it?" Laza's eyes went wide. Azula
continued, "I misjudged you, badly. I thought your disrespect was real." She laughed. "It's not often
that I'm fooled."

Azula studied the woman sitting in front of her, putting her together bit by bit in her mind. She
remembered that vapid, silly, flighty girl who had tried so hard to fit in with the other noble girls at
the academy and had been the outlier because of it. They'd treated her like the tag-along because
she had tried so hard to be one of them.

"You never quite fit in with our classmates at the academy. You never quite managed to adopt their
airs. I thought it was because you're stupid, that your want was that of desperation. I was wrong.
Do you know why, Laza?"

"I was never very good at being coy," she replied with a tight smile.

"Yes, but why?" In the wake of Laza's silence, Azula provided the answer. "Because you're too
clever for it. They can make themselves believe they're fulfilling the role of a gratefully prissy wife
and a birthing machine, but you knew all along you never would. You're a leader, not a follower.
Your only discredit is you never realized that."

Laza didn't hide her shock. Azula smiled. "In the wake of this attempted coup and your father's
execution, you'll be besieged with invitations for tea, inundated with rumors, invited to all the
greatest houses that wouldn't deign to interact with you before. You will accept what proposals you
deem fit. You will advance yourself in their eyes and advance the Fire Lord and his sister. You will
learn all their secrets. And you will report those secrets back to me."

Laza's jaw tightened and she folded her arms defensively. "If I wanted that life, Princess, I would
have married one of Tazu's matches."

"How many men did you put off?"

"Six."

Azula was still impressed by that fact. To have pretended to try and yet managed to put all those
men off—who certainly cared more about Laza's beauty, her womb, and her father's money than
her manner. "No more. You'll marry your lover, carry on what life you want with her, and expand
the influence you were so unwilling to lose by eloping. I only ask that you remain my ally as you
do it."

"And if I say no?"

"You won't," Azula responded. She held out her hand.

Laza's expression softened in surprise. She met and held Azula's gaze, as if trying to judge Azula's
truthfulness. Azula smiled. Laza's soft fingers slipped into Azula's palm, and she slowly reflected
Azula's smile. "You're right," Laza admitted.

An ally.

"And now," Azula said quietly, "It's time to face the nobles." And her angry family.

Azula held Laza's hand tucked into her arm as they walked unhurriedly out of the temple and back
out to the feast. Row after row of polished wooden tables sat along the plaza. Food and alcohol
were already flowing, which loosened tongues enough that the sound of the nobles' hubbub
changed blatantly when they saw Azula arm in arm with the daughter of one of the traitors she'd
just arrested.

Azula ignored the stares as she walked Laza to her place at her family's table. "Smile," Azula said
quietly, turning her eyes to Laza with a smile of her own. "We're friends now, discussing a subject
we both enjoy."

Laza laughed and drew closer with her voice also pitched too low to be overheard. "Princess, I get
the feeling we don't enjoy many of the same things."

"We both enjoy watching them make fools of themselves, don't we?"

"That's certainly true." Laza's smile went a little tight as she looked at something over Azula's
shoulder. "Our alliance won't last long if your royal consort decides to murder me."

Azula gave a true laugh at that statement though she had no doubt all of Katara's anger that day
was directed at her. They stopped in front of the Tazu family table. Laza's two sisters and their
husbands stood and bowed low to Azula. Laza released Azula's arm and bowed as well. Azula
afforded them all a half-nod in return. Petty posturing. It was fun.

Now for the not as fun part: Azula turned her feet towards the long raised table at the head of the
feast and walked to her place there. The occupants of the table—the royal party—were seated on
one side of the table to face the nobles. Several unhappy looks were directed to Azula, but she kept
her attention elsewhere.

She met the eyes of prominent noblemen on her long walk to the royal table, enjoying their
curiosity and discomfort in turn. Ozai would have immediately arrested every family member of
the traitors and carted them off for questioning. Zuko was much smarter; he let them worry
through the feast whether or not he would take legal action against them. Azula imagined they
would quickly throw every loyalty they had to the Fire Lord.

The head of the Bouli family, shadow benefactor to the failed coup, met her eyes long enough for
Azula to read the fear in them. She smiled at the man intimately, allowing him to see that she knew
him for what he was. He could judge for himself if she planned to publicly out his involvement in
the coup and ruin him. He would wonder all night if she'd already informed Zuko.

There was a vacant seat to Zuko's right waiting for her, and she settled there. He didn't look at her.
To her right, Katara was blatantly silent. She did look at Azula, but in fragile fear, not in anger.
What the fear was about, Azula couldn't guess. The Agni Kai Azula would fight the next day?

Beneath the table, Azula reached for her hand to offer some sort of comfort, but Katara pulled
away from her touch.

Azula hadn't wasted any thought by imagining her family's reaction to her victory, but whatever
expectation she'd had about this night wasn't this. Their table was as silent as the grave, and
everyone was balanced on feigned calmness as fragile and transparent as dragonglass.

It was the longest two hours of her life.

She had hoped her future announcement would come across as another joyous victory and now
realized it would fall flat.

When the sky was black and the tables lit with merry candlelight, Zuko and Mai were toasted. It
was a long, drawn-out affair. The marriage of the Fire Lord wasn't just a marriage; it was a chance
to lord over the nobles and show them how powerful the Fire Lord was. Traditionally, powerful
allies and elite families heaped praises upon the newly married Fire Lord, complementing him or
her for hours. The longest toasting in history had lasted three days; that Fire Lord had been deposed
a record three days later—by his own wife, actually. Historically, toasting the Fire Lord was
ridiculously overt posturing in front of the Fire Lord's noble subjects.

This time was much different.

The stiffness and unhappiness that Azula had created was broken when Iroh stood to give the first
toast. He was teary-eyed as he spoke of his bursting pride at seeing Zuko grow into the man he was
now. After him, Ursa was teary-eyed speaking of her love for her son and her happiness that they
were all together as she'd always once hoped.

Mai's parents were also teary-eyed...probably at the thought that their daughter—as distant as she
was towards them—had achieved the highest possible rank in the nation for her. Zuko's Avatar
friends were informal enough to break whatever pompous nature of the act remained with jokes
and embarrassing stories. Toph drew Azula out of her funk long enough to make her laugh at a few
of her ridiculous puns and bawdy jokes. Even Katara, whose voice was weak at the start, warmed
up and delivered a few words that made Zuko blush and grin.

They were all the perfect foil for Azula.

She gathered her dignity as she stood for her toast, the final one of the evening. The nobles began
to murmur in anticipation and then quieted into dead silence as she raised her glass. Her voice
carried across the courtyard of the temple easily, especially when they'd all gone so quiet to hear
her. There was not a set of noble eyes that wasn't focused on Azula in that moment.

"I want you to know, Zuko, that I was perplexed with what gift I could give you to commemorate
your marriage. What does one get a man who has everything: the highest title of the greatest nation
of this world, the blessed company of the great Avatar, the most beautiful woman of the Fire
Nation now as his wife?"

She smiled for the nobles, as Zuko and Mai both did as well—and the Avatar pointedly didn't. "But
I've gotten ahead of myself. Let me restart…

"We've tried to kill each other far more than is healthy for brother and sister. We spent much of our
lives as enemies, and much less of our lives as friends, and we've managed to be fairly successful at
both. Though we disagreed on where the Fire Nation should proceed, you've treated me kindly and
allowed me more freedom than I would have ever allowed you."

His expression tightened in a flash of old guilt again at the reminder of her imprisonment. She
hadn't meant to coax that emotion from him. Azula shifted her lips into a smile, and he relaxed.

"It's only fitting that my gift to you, Zuko, is that great wish you've begged from me for years and
years."
His brow twitched in question. Azula lifted her glass. "I give you…my presence in a trade
meeting!"

It was difficult to deliver a joke and keep her dignity, but she'd been drilled endlessly by her
teachers at the Royal Academy on diction and carriage, skills she'd learned as much from those
women as from Ozai. Now Azula managed to coax a rolling laugh from the watching nobles. Zuko
granted her the flash of his teeth in a grin. She continued more seriously.

"I also gift you thirteen traitors. I gift you my full political backing. I gift you myself in whatever
capacity you wish me to serve you—whether by writing letters—I know how you nobles enjoy my
missives!"

More laughter.

"Or by sitting on your council…though I would be more inclined to sit on your council."

Her careful emphasis coaxed another laugh, but Azula imagined the council members hadn't found
it particularly funny. She wiped her face of her fake smile, set down her glass, and spoke now
seriously. Zuko had given her his full attention.

"As I said… We were enemies; we are friends. Here's to hoping we are even more successful as
allies." She clapped her hands. "And, ending your ceremony off with such a bang, I could hardly
resist doing the same for your celebration feast!"

As she lifted her hands, a thunderous boom and whistle echoed across the temple grounds. Above
them, a brilliant splash of white and red shattered the sky, the first of many. It drew cries and
laughter from the watching nobles. Beside Azula, Katara jumped.

Capital City saw its greatest ever fireworks display that night.

It was as much a celebration of Azula's victory as it was of Zuko's wedding, but the former reason
had fallen flat.

As Azula sat down, she turned to judge Katara's expression. Katara was looking up at the brilliant
lights display with a tight smile. The smile meant unhappiness, and the tear tracks down her face
meant pain.

That turned every positive emotion within Azula to ash.

Azula looked down the length of her robed arm and across the expanse of her empty bed. Katara
was so very angry with her, more than she would have ever guessed. Her entire family was angry
with her. She wondered how long this would last. It wasn't something she'd anticipated at all.

This was what they'd all wanted from her: to return to the capital, to support her brother, to resume
her duties as the Princess of the Fire Nation. So why had they not shared in her victory as she'd so
erroneously assumed? Apparently she had disappointed them, and in that they had disappointed
her. What had she done so wrong?

The new moon provided no light, but there were candles burning on the balcony. Their gentle
flames lit everything within her room faintly. Kota had drawn the curtains back to let the breeze
blow through uninhibited. Azula studied the faint whorls she could see in the grain of the polished
wood of her floor.

At dusk of the following day, she would be in Agni Kai with a proficient firebender. Herself unable
to bend. She'd almost forgotten it, standing on the dais before her nation in victory over the
conspirators. Not that Azula was worried about the outcome of the battle on the morrow. She
would win. She just wished her family thought so too. She wished her family thought many things.

Azula turned her head and looked up at the bed's canopy. In the darkness, she couldn't make out
the swirling reds and blues. It was just a textured gray cloth. She stared at it and dreamed of gray.

A warm yellow beam of sunlight woke her. Azula lifted her head from the pillow. The bed was
empty next to her.

During her bath, she didn't ask Kota where Katara was. She didn't want to know. Kota, for her part,
was quiet and meek and very gentle while Azula bathed. Her servant was careful as she washed
and brushed Azula's hair.

"Cut it."

Kota's hands stilled in her hair.

"Cut it to an appropriate length for a full topknot."

Kota left and returned a moment later with a pair of scissors. She snipped and trimmed, and each
cut lifted some weight from Azula's head. The last time she'd felt that particular sensation was back
at the end of the war. At that time, she'd had each fiery rip of her lost fingernails to contemplate
too, and the men hadn't been gentle as they sheered her hair off. Kota brushed it out quickly once
more, and returned with the scissors for a few more snips. Her voice was soft as she asked, "Would
you like to look?"

Azula walked naked to the full length mirror of the bathing chamber. She studied herself in the
mirror, taking in the muscles and scars that defined the feminine curves of her body. With her hair
down at this length, she saw more of the princess who had cried to a hallucination the eve of
Sozin's Comet than she liked. And yet…and yet her face was so calm despite the rolling emotions
in her gut that made her skin feel so fragile.

"Good," she said purely for Kota's benefit.

Kota pulled Azula's bangs from her face in a loose tie and helped Azula into a comfortable robe
and trousers. There was no reason to dress today. She would eat simple food and meditate to
prepare herself for the battle that evening. After that, she would worry about how to right a wrong
she still didn't understand.

Iroh was waiting for her on her balcony, also clad in loose trousers and sleeping robe. He'd
regained some of the paunch that he'd lost during the war, but Ursa kept his beard and hair well
groomed. He usually looked younger than he had during the war, something she'd always
attributed to Ursa. He didn't look younger today with the worry he carried around his eyes.

Whatever Iroh saw in her face made him sigh. "I'm not here to scold you," he said quietly.

She would rather a scolding than the disapproval and disappointment she'd read in her family's
eyes and in his eyes now.

He looked at her in slowly dawning realization. "Oh, Azula." Iroh's hands covered hers, and he
squeezed. "All you had to do was tell us, and we would have been happy for you."

To her shame, she blinked out a few quiet tears before she managed to swallow them. Iroh held her
hand through it. His voice was gentle. "We aren't angry; we're worried."
That was a thread she could grasp. "Lam is nothing."

"Your mother and I in particular are worried. It would not be beyond the realm of possibility for
the Fire Lord to overrule this Agni Kai…or stand in your stead." Before she could interject to
express the anger his suggestion provoked, he quietly asked, "Can you kill him without your fire?"

Her anger turned to certainty. "Yes."

He nodded and gently gave her hand back. "Lam is a skilled firebender, but his flame is weak. He
relies on amount instead of quality, muscle instead of breath. His katas are flashy, and he's weak to
his left side. He pretends to be ambidextrous, but he's right handed."

Azula didn't tell Iroh that she already knew all of these things.

"Your family backs you, Azula. We're here, and we love you. Don't worry about us going into this
fight."

She nodded slowly, relief easing some heaviness from her shoulders.

"I am proud of you, though probably not for the reasons you wish." He patted her hand with a
gentle smile. "Your mother would be here, but I'm afraid she would make you upset. That would
not do today. She told me to tell you she loves you. Shall we have tea?"

They didn't speak again through the breakfast they shared. Despite herself, Azula took comfort in
his quiet presence. She was finally starting to realize that Iroh was a good man. She wouldn't have
traded her years as Ozai's daughter to have been Iroh's child, but a small part of her envied the
close bond that Iroh had always shared with Zuko. She was grateful for his support now.

As he stood to leave her, she asked the question that had been plaguing her since the night before.
"What if she won't forgive me?"

Iroh smiled at her gently. "I don't think that will happen. But if it does: beg forgiveness and make
every promise you must until she does. There is no dignity in the face of losing someone you love."

Katara returned to their apartment that afternoon. Azula was meditating in the sun on the balcony,
trying to push away her rolling emotions to find a calm center in preparation for the evening. She
sensed Katara standing behind her, watching her. It was an eternity waiting for her to move one
way or another. When Katara approached and wrapped her warm arms around Azula's shoulders, a
tight ball of tension in Azula's chest released.

With it came tears.

"You can make me so angry sometimes," Katara said quietly.

"Why? Why are you so angry over this?" Azula's frustration tempered her relief. She wiped her
tears away quickly. "All these years you've been on my back about helping my brother, and now
that I have you're angry with me for doing just that. Can I do nothing right when it comes to you?"

Katara rounded her to sit in front of Azula. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears, and they looked
all the bluer for it. She took Azula's hands in a tight grip. She reflected Azula's exasperation. "We
aren't nobles, Azula. I'm not a noble. Was I supposed to be impressed that you managed to recruit
your Dai Li or by your pretty fireworks or that you're going to fight Agni Kai against that man?"

Had this all stemmed from her acceptance of the Agni Kai challenge? Azula snatched at the one
thing she could address in Katara's observation. "It was his right to challenge me."

"It's your right to refuse too, isn't it? Why did you agree?"

"It's my responsibility," Azula replied, uncertain of the answer Katara wanted or the one she could
give.

"He could kill you."

"It's his right to demand Agni Kai and my responsibility to meet him," Azula said again. She
wouldn't apologize for this, but she needed to know how much damage it would do. "Are you
angry because of the risk or because I'm going to kill him?"

Katara's eyes filled with tears; she looked away. "I don't understand why you would do this when
you don't need to. He was going to be executed anyway, but you've decided you want to kill him
instead. It's barbaric. I don't know why Zuko hasn't outlawed Agni Kai yet."

"He never will. It's a custom that's as ingrained in our culture as fire. As Fire Lord, Zuko is a
warrior of the Fire Nation. As the Fire Nation's Princess, so am I. This is who I am. I never
pretended otherwise." Azula reached out to touch Katara's stricken face and was relieved when
Katara didn't pull away. "I won't let him hurt me."

"You decided all of this," Katara said, nuzzling her hand. She was crying now. "All of this,
Azula… To move to the capital, to serve Zuko, to be the Princess again…"

"Yes," Azula replied. She felt like she was navigating her way around in the pitch darkness.
"Things won't change between us, Katara. You know me—"

Katara's eyes were sharp when she met Azula's. "Not always. I don't always know you. I knew you
two nights ago when you were being silly and you put up with my brother and you teased Zuko and
your mother. But I didn't know you yesterday. Not when you drew your knife and looked like you
were thinking about putting it in Zuko's heart. Not when you accepted that man's challenge. Not
when you toasted Zuko. You were someone alien then, Azula."

"Katara, I have to put on a face for them—"

Katara cut her off again. Azula felt like she was losing control of this argument.

"But that wasn't just for them, was it? Or you would have told us about all of this. You would have
told me." Katara shook her head in evident disgust. "I'm your consort. I thought that meant I shared
part of your life, but you didn't tell me about any of this. You didn't ask me if I would be alright
with all the changes this is going to make in our lives. You didn't think of me at all, did you?"

That accusation provoked Azula's anger. "Of course I did! They'll respect me, and because of that
they'll respect you—"

"That doesn't even matter to me!"

"It did several weeks ago!" Azula snapped.

"And I would have sucked it up and dealt with it!" Katara shouted back. "I love you, and I want to
keep you, and I'm afraid I'm going to lose you to the Fire Nation again!"

Azula was stunned that Katara could ever think such a thing. "Don't you know that you're
everything?"
"No, I'm not. Because even with me standing beside you, holding your hand, you didn't think about
me at all when you said you were fine with risking your life for nothing! You can't tell me you
thought about how I would feel or what I would do if you got hurt fighting a man who's going to
die anyway. It was about posturing and about the nobles and about your damn pride. Azula, you
wanted him to challenge you!"

Azula looked at Katara and realized it was true. Katara was right. She hadn't thought for one
moment of asking Katara about her plans. She hadn't thought about Katara when she'd accepted the
challenge. She hadn't thought of her family either.

Katara looked back at her, but the steam she'd built up with her last speech dwindled with what she
saw in Azula's expression. She squeezed Azula's hands and looked away. Katara's anger abruptly
shifted to discomfort. "Who was that woman?"

Azula was flummoxed. She echoed, "Woman?"

"The woman you walked to the table?" Katara asked; she still wouldn't meet Azula's eyes as she
said it. "Aang told me—"

"Fuck your Avatar!" Azula snarled, her anger sharp once more. "He has no place in our relationship
or confounding whatever illogical fear—"

"How is it illogical?" Katara gasped. "You seemed to change so much in all of a second, and right
after the wedding you slipped away with her in private and came out laughing with her, and Aang
said he saw you two riding together. And this last month you've been so secret about everything
and I never knew where you were…"

"Katara." Azula wasn't angry anymore. She had no idea she'd be so overtly secretive. She hadn't
realized Katara had been worried about it and now felt a stab of guilt. "She's one of the traitor's
daughters. She double-crossed them. She's going to spy for me."

"Aang said you told him you were sleeping with her."

What a fool anger had made her to ever say that to him. Azula winced. "I was angry. I lied to him
to make him angry too."

Katara took a deep breath and asked directly, "Are you sleeping with her?"

"No!" Azula framed Katara's face in her hands, drawing her gaze. "Trust me. You are the only
person I could ever love. There's no one else and there never will be. How could I ever love
anyone else after I've had you?" She presented the other part of the truth. "Her name is Laza, and
she betrayed her father because he wouldn't allow her to marry her lover."

Katara looked into her eyes for a long moment. Her expression was still fragile. "I can't lose you,
not to her or to the man tonight or to the Fire Nation."

And suddenly Azula understood. She understood why her family and Katara were so upset about
this. She also understood why she'd done it.

She'd wanted her family to be proud of her and to share in her victory, but she had done this for
herself. She needed it for herself. Azula was no one if she wasn't the Princess of the Fire Nation.
She needed to be herself again. But, unlike what Katara feared, regaining her title in name and act
wasn't going to revert Azula back to the vicious girl she'd been during the war. It wouldn't undo all
the emotions and relationships she'd gained in the years since.
"I have to do this, Katara. For myself. But I won't stop loving you." Katara had so much power
over her. Azula knew if she exercised that power now, she would give everything up all over again.
"I can't lose you either," she said quietly, meeting Katara's gaze. She couldn't suppress the tears
that came to her eyes. "Am I going to?"

"You don't have the right to look at me like that." Katara seized Azula's robes and met her mouth in
a hard kiss. "I never expected it to be this difficult," she said against Azula's mouth. "Loving you is
so easy but being with you can be so hard."

"How can I make it easier?"

Katara shook her head, and her mouth shifted into a faint smile against Azula's. "It wouldn't be
fair." She nuzzled Azula's cheek. "I'm not leaving you. I love you. But we're going to talk about all
of this when we're both a little calmer." She settled with her face tucked against Azula's neck. "Are
you sure you can beat him, Azula?"

"Lam is nothing."

"I know you've let your bending go."

Azula stiffened.

"You haven't been practicing, maybe because you don't think you deserve it. You're wrong. You
need to start taking care of that part of yourself again."

Azula opened her mouth to tell Katara the truth and realized she couldn't, not when Katara thought
her victory would stem from her firebending alone. Katara's anger that Azula accepted the Agni
Kai challenge would be tenfold what it was now if she knew Azula had accepted without being
able to firebend.

"I can beat him, Katara."

Katara heaved a shaky sigh and held her for a few minutes of silence. Finally, she kissed Azula's
neck. "I need you. Is it going to distract you for the Agni Kai?"

Azula pushed Katara's shoulders back and offered a quiet smile. "On the contrary. Fire Lords of old
rarely fought Agni Kai without first spending their seed. If a child resulted, that child was
considered blessed by the spirits of war."

Katara touched her face. "My warrior," she said. Her voice was tight with grief, not love.

"Your lover," Azula corrected gently.

Katara offered a smile and then burst into tears. Azula held her close through them.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, and Katara coaxed Azula's pleasure gently. Katara fell
asleep in her arms, and Azula looked up at the swirling blue and red canopy of their bed, feeling so
surprisingly peaceful after the tumultuous night. It might take a thousand apologies, but she hadn't
lost Katara yet.

And now, she could finally think about what would happen that night with a clear mind.

She imagined walking to the Agni Kai chamber, but from there her thoughts slipped into a gentle
meditation about how it had all come to be. The past was important; it would always be important.
Agni Kai had come a long way since the dark ages. It had been fought as a basic duel then before it
had gained its name. After the age of enlightenment, Agni Kai was declared in attempts to dethrone
the Fire Lord. Lesser duels also carried the name, but they usually ended in a new scar for one of
the combatants. An Agni Kai declared against the Fire Lord always ended in death. At that time,
the Fire Lord didn't have the right to decline the challenges or he would lose his throne. Leading
the country was only possible by a powerful warrior, hence the title Fire Lord.

At some point in that time, a Fire Lord was challenged by five men on the same day. He lost his
last battle out of pure exhaustion. After that came a long succession of bloody conflict when Agni
Kai was fought all on the same day with similar results. There were a record twenty new Fire
Lords that year.

The Fire Sages had responded by declaring the setting sun was the holiest time of the day and that
Agni required her sacrifices then. Historians were of two minds about the move: that the current
Fire Lord had bribed the supposedly impartial Fire Sages or that the Sages knew the Fire Nation
would collapse without a long-ruling Fire Lord.

And so Agni Kai was fought in the setting sun.

The cloak came about later when a commoner challenged the Fire Lord and won to take the throne.
Fire Lord Li, the only Li ever to hold the throne, added it to his Agni Kai battles to symbolize that
any man who stepped into the Agni Kai chamber was equal in the eyes of fire and must shed his
titles to stand as a man first. Li ruled for thirty years and fought and won more Agni Kai duels than
any other Fire Lord.

And so the cloak was worn and shed before Agni Kai was fought.

The gong that signaled the start of the battle in the Agni Kai chamber of the palace was an ancient
instrument, left from the age of gender equality when the first female Fire Lord defeated her
younger brother in Agni Kai to take the throne. The gong was one of the oldest relics they had left
from those ages. Engraved into its rim were words that translated to: Flame is the great equalizer. I
was first struck to mark the age of equality for all people. Let every time I ring celebrate the
equality of fire.

And so the gong marked the beginning of the Agni Kai duel.

Everything in the Agni Kai chamber was a mark of the ages and customs of the Fire Nation: the
tiles, the tapestries, the curtains. Azula had never fought an Agni Kai—excluding the faux battle at
the end of the great war—and she'd never imagined doing so even though she'd known as a child it
would happen. She had only thought about the honor it would be to stand on the sparring platform
on which so many men and women had died: for glory, for pride, or for the betterment of their
nation.

Azula gathered her dignity and her confidence and knew she was the Princess of the Fire Nation.
She would do her country right; she would show her people that she was fit to regain her place in
the quiet seat of power of Princess. No more would she be a silent recluse willing to turn her eyes
away from the needs of her people and her Fire Lord.

She didn't need fire for that.

Katara held her close beneath the sheets. Her hands tightened on Azula's shoulder when Kota
slipped into the room. "Forgive me, Princess, Lady Katara, but it would be advisable to prepare."

Azula slipped out of bed, and Katara followed her. She pulled on a sleeping robe and sat at the
edge of the bed, watching Azula as Kota attended to her. Azula pushed her arms through her robe
and belted it loosely. She declined makeup.

"What will you wear, Princess?"

Azula responded to the unspoken question in Katara's eyes—'what does it matter?'—and explained
the meaning behind Kota's question while her servant tugged her hair up into a topknot.

"Before the age of gender equality, Agni Kai was only fought by women when they were accused
of adultery. They were forced to fight their husbands with their breasts bare in public confirmation
of their accused adultery. It was quite tawdry, actually, and the claims were usually false, made by
men who wanted to remarry or just get rid of their wives.

"In the fourth era, Fire Lord Zo abolished the custom by royal decree. His sister, Princess Olana,
was accused. He didn't bother declaring divorce legal. That edict came over a century later." Azula
smiled at the scandal of it. "In Olana's case, the adultery was true. The Fire Lord and his sister
shared each other's beds for their entire lives while Olana's noble husband rotted in the palace
dungeon."

Katara was distracted from her worry long enough to look disgusted. "They weren't your ancestors,
were they?"

"Thankfully not. Their line didn't propagate, but my ancestors didn't control the throne until eight
hundred years later. We are the only family to monopolize the throne for as long as we have."

Katara fixed her with an angry look. "You are not fighting Agni Kai half-naked."

Azula rolled her wrist, offering a gentle smile. She was pleased to have distracted Katara if only for
a few moments. "The age of gender equality started almost a millennium ago, but there are still
some foolish traditionalists who believe women should go bare-breasted in Agni Kai. I'm not one
of them."

She opted instead for a breast support that was suitable to be worn alone. Her shoulders and belly
were visible, displaying the lines the sun had tanned into her skin and a few old burn scars. It was
as symbolic as a man baring the untested flesh of his chest and belly for his opponent's fire.

The silk pants were plain and thin, cinched below her knee by plain leather shin guards. She would
go barefoot.

As Azula stood to gather herself for the rapidly approaching Agni Kai, Katara stepped close. She
brushed Azula's face gently with her fingertips as if memorizing her features. "I'm here," she said
firmly. "I'll still be here after the fight. I'm not leaving you; I haven't stopped loving you."

"Katara—"

"Go. I won't watch." Katara's voice was hard, and she refused to look at Azula as she said it. A
relief and a disappointment in one. Abruptly, Katara pulled her into a hard embrace. "If you get
hurt, I'll kill you." She kissed Azula hard enough that Azula tasted iron. "Come back to me after."

As Azula stepped out of her apartments, she motioned Kota closer. She knew the din from the Agni
Kai chamber would be audible from her balcony. Katara wouldn't know how to interpret the noise,
but Kota would. She would be able to tell Katara that Azula had won and ease that worry. Azula
commanded, "Stay with her. Tell her when I win."

Kota stopped and bowed. Her normally quiet voice was fierce with an unorthodox command. "Kill
him well, Princess."

Azula afforded her bodyservant a smile before she began her walk down the hallway. She strode
across the palace grounds alone to the Agni Kai chamber. The floor and grounds were smooth
against her bare feet. The air was warm, but a soft breeze followed her. Her mind was empty.

As Azula rounded the entryway of the Agni Kai chamber, the faint echo of laughter surprised her,
and she paused behind the drapes of the entrance to listen further.

Lam's silky voice echoed within the arena. "She lost the throne to a waterbender! And now she
bends over to let that same waterbender fuck her like the whore she is! She's even been coaxed to
legally bind herself to the savage. She gave that savage the right to vote on matters of the Fire
Nation, promised her Fire Nation money, and the waterbender's waterbending children will be
citizens of the Fire Nation—possibly sit on the throne! Is that right?!

"She's backing a Fire Lord who steals our hard earned money and gives it to the poor: people too
stupid and lazy to make their own money! Even worse, they give our hard earned money to
savages of other countries. She and her brother will ruin this nation! When I hang as a traitor, I'll do
it having bettered the Fire Nation by incinerating the savage-fucking whore that claims herself a
princess of our nation!"

Well, at least he knew he was going to die. He just had his date and method of death wrong. Azula
examined his words clinically and pushed them away from her with a breath. It was good that
Katara hadn't come with her if only that she wouldn't have to hear those words.

Lam's shouts continued. "She's weak and ignorant and doesn't give a thought to us—"

"Shut up, Lam!" someone shouted from the stadium seats. "Save your wind for the shitpot and the
duel!"

Laughter echoed through the Agni Kai chamber. Lam fell silent. Azula allowed herself a faint
smile before she wiped the expression away. She stepped out into the arena.

As expected, the arena was packed. This was the first Agni Kai fought since the war had ended,
and the challenge had been issued during a public and scandalous incident. As a result, nobles sat
squashed shoulder to shoulder in the spectator seats. Lam's family sat along the first row on the
west side. The youngest son, his face still discolored and his nose broken from her assault weeks
ago, met her eyes. He lowered his head. A bow or fear? Either one was acceptable.

Azula's family sat on the opposite side of the arena, also in the front row. Among her supporters
was Tazu's family: Laza and her sisters and their husbands, sitting quietly behind Azula's family. In
fact, the head family members of each man involved in the coup sat there in her support in a
display of fearful loyalty for Zuko and Azula's benefit.

Zuko—his face pinched and grim—met her eyes. Iroh put a hand on Zuko's arm and leaned close
to speak to him. Zuko's expression smoothed out, and he nodded. Iroh stood after that to approach
her. Her father had a frown so deep his white beard bristled around his mouth.

"Kill him," he said quietly. Apparently Iroh's passivity had been turned to grim anger by Lam's
posturing. Azula glanced over his shoulder and saw Ursa twisting her sleeves in a white-knuckled
grip. She couldn't feel guilty right now. There was no place for it.

She nodded.

He seized her arm in a tight grip. "Agni be with you. Remember your fundamentals. I don't think he
will."

Arrogant Lam paced onto the sparring platform across from Azula. He was well-muscled and
carried himself like he knew it. There was not a single burn scar on him. His silk pants were
specially made; they were fine with a beautiful embroidered pattern of golden dragons along the
belt and up the outside of each leg. Had he had them created in case one day he would fight Agni
Kai? What a fool. What a pompous fool. The only thing he'd accomplished was ordering the
clothing he would die in.

There were still a few minutes before the eighth hour so Azula ignored him. She settled down onto
the cool tile and studied it: blackened in some areas, stained by charred human flesh permanently.
Agni Kai was not often called against a member of the royal family—her family—these last few
centuries, but it always had disastrous effects. Zuko had been lucky in some ways. She'd been
surprised as a child that Ozai had let him live.

"You can't firebend, can you?"

Lam stood close enough for her to hear his words clearly over the din of the uneasy crowd. His
smile was cruel. It was no surprise to her there were noble whispers about her lack of bending,
especially after the recent attack. She might have been sheltered from noble rumors on Ember
Island, but she certainly wasn't here in Capital City—not that any noble was stupid enough to say
anything to her face...except Lam, who knew he was dead anyway. She wondered if he'd made a
public claim about her bending before she'd begun to eavesdrop.

Azula regarded him coolly. He'd challenged her probably because he had bet upon her inability to
command fire. Apparently he hadn't factored in that she wouldn't need it.

He laughed in her silence. "Watching your life slip from you as you burn will be so satisfying." He
gave an exaggerated gasp as he looked at Azula's family. "Your savage whore isn't here to see you
burn to death, I see."

She ignored that statement. Anger had no place here.

This was the place of life or death. Nothing else belonged here.

General Tso, who would be moderating this event, walked between them; his face showed no
evidence that he heard their words. He held out two silk cloaks. Azula took hers and drew it over
her shoulders. She walked to the half-sun tiled into the platform that marked her place and let her
cloak slip from her shoulders at Tso's command. All men are equal in the eyes of fire. The crowd
hushed immediately.

She turned in the dead silence of the arena. Lam faced her twenty meters away. She settled into
stillness.

The gong struck.

She would be its equalizer.

Lam immediately lurched into form. Azula darted sideways and propelled herself forward. His
flame—red and fluttery—missed her and wasn't hot enough to even singe her skin from this
distance. His eyes went wide at her speed; she was close enough to touch him before he'd shifted
into his second attack. She rolled into a crouch and swept her foot across his ankles.

He twisted as he felt backwards and rolled into a crouch in the attempt to regain his feet. She was
waiting for him. She watched his body for his gusty inhalation and reached out to take hold of his
 wrist. His belly flexed as he began his exhale. There! Her fingers clamped onto his wrist, and she
wrenched it around. His eyes widened in pain and realization. His arm snapped, his flame
ballooned inward, and he lost control of it. He took the brunt of that billowing fire in his face.

His flame sputtered out with his rising scream—of pain and fear. She'd heard that kind of scream
many times heralding a man or beast's death. She put the heel of her palm into his throat and
crushed the bones of his larynx beneath his burned skin. His scream tapered off into a rumbling
moan. What flame remained only singed the hair off of her hand and wrist.

Lam fell to his knees with his hair still burning and his face a ruined mass of charred flesh. He
flopped prostrate at her feet. His chest heaved, his legs kicked, and his hands clenched as he
attempted to breathe around his collapsed trachea. It would not be an easy death. He would remain
alive long enough to hear her words now. She didn't deign to watch his life slip away from him; he
didn't deserve the attention.

As she stepped away from his dying body, the rush of power Azula felt in that moment coaxed her
laughter. She turned within the arena and raised her voice. It was strong and proud. She finally
sounded like herself again. Azula grinned fiercely at the spectators as she spoke.

"I am Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation, blood of Sozin and Roku, and I stand before you
victorious. I did not firebend today because this traitor did not deserve it. Does anyone else wish to
challenge me or my brother to see if he will qualify for my flame?"

There was silence in the wake of her words. She looked to Lam's family, fiercely searching for
their reverence. Every one of them bowed to her in a blatant display of loyalty. As she turned her
eyes across the arena, silk whispered as nobles lowered their heads at the touch of her gaze.

She lifted her arms in wordless command. A muted thunder rang across the arena, echoing the
powerful burst of pride within her chest. Hundreds of noble feet struck the ground in deep
applause, and within their din a deep, powerful chant pulsed: her name. Her nobles, her nation,
were giving their endorsement. In that moment, she knew she was once again the Princess of the
Fire Nation—her nation.

She was back. And it felt great.

Chapter End Notes

Epilogue of Book 2 to follow

 ...and you lose some
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Epilogue: …and you lose some

The evening was blessedly cool and quiet—as the last week had been. After the pitiful coup
attempt, twelve noble men were hanged by their noble necks, and their families kept their heads
down to avoid any other appearance of disloyalty. The Bouli family, shadow benefactors, were
also very, very quiet. They'd relocated to their vacation home in the tropical islands, and Zuko
rented out their historic family home in Capital City to his new Minister of Seas. Azula wondered
what had happened with all of that, but she'd had no time to inquire.

Laza—majority inheritor of Tazu's estate—had wasted no time in marrying her lover. She'd sent
Azula a wedding invitation the day after Azula's victorious Agni Kai. Azula thought her wedding
gifts were appropriately lavish: one of her prized mount's offspring, a traditional shadow theater
mask, and three barrels of the Fire Nation's best peppery-grape wine. Whether it was the gifts,
Azula's full pardon, or her somewhat open invitation to the palace for social calls, Laza had thrown
her lot in entirely with Azula. She'd already sent a few tidbits of information about the noble
families that had flocked to her door for rumormongering. It promised to be a profitable alliance.

Zuko had forgiven Azula for the coup de grace, so to speak, and he'd been downright pleased with
the political aftereffects of the attempt on his life. The nobles were quiet, and dissent, if it did
occur, was hushed. His supporters were much louder than they'd been before Azula's full backing
of her brother. Things were finally getting done in the capital.

Now, on his wedding night—the real one, Mai would have argued—Zuko looked amazingly
relaxed. The vows had been recited and all the private guests were plied with drink and food and
music and conversation. Iroh and Ursa swayed together in a vague dance under the overgrown
patio, and Sokka, Suki, and Ty Lee were tossing aiming rings for sport. They were all drunk—
enjoying the last few days of vacation in good form—so it was a marvel their aim wasn't worse
than it was. Zuko paused to speak as he passed the group and nearly got clocked in the head with
an aiming ring.

He was grinning when he turned to approach Azula. He handed her a drink. She sniffed it.

"It's not alcoholic. Neither is mine. Mai told me she has special plans for—"

"We are not talking about you and Mai having sex." Azula exaggerated her shudder of horror.

Zuko smirked at her. "I heard that you sent your Dai Li to the relief efforts in the Earth Kingdom."

An earthquake had devastated a few cities along the midwest coast of the Earth Kingdom. It was a
make-nice gesture towards Katara, who was still quietly unhappy with Azula for recent events,
though Toph was the one who'd asked for the help. Before Zuko could draw his own conclusions
about her motivations, she said, "Don't start thinking of me as a bleeding heart, Brother. I just want
the Earth Kingdom to know the Dai Li are mine again."

Zuko gave her an uncharacteristic pat on the shoulder. "Has Katara forgiven you yet?"

They'd talked more than a few times about the reality of Azula's new position. Azula had been
afraid it would turn into a battle of ultimatums, but Katara had been shockingly understanding
despite her disapproval. The only thing Katara had asked her was, "Think of me and think of the
impact your decisions will have on me, okay? That's all I'm asking."

Azula's eyes had been opened in more ways than one since the beginning of her trip to Capital City.
She'd looked into Katara's wounded eyes and promised, "Yes."

Now Azula was relaxed enough with the truth of her answer to smile at her brother. She sipped her
drink and nodded. "I think I'm well on my way."

His smile in return was surprisingly sympathetic. Then it turned mischievous. "I also heard about
the trade meeting this morning."

Azula was still astoundingly pleased with her first trade meeting; she'd managed to get Mai and
Ursa's public school proposition passed in a few short minutes. She'd also cowed the minister of
finance into silence when she'd pointed out he was so in favor of taxing the lower class when he'd
so cleverly managed not to pay his own taxes for three years. "I don't know why you complain
about them, Zuzu. I had fun watching them squirm."

Zuko took a drink from his teacup. His expression shifted into vague perplexity, and then he spat
his mouthful all over the garden path. "What the hell is this?" He stared down at his cup. "It tastes
like Uncle's moldy sandals."

Azula raised an eyebrow. "Iroh's brew?"

Zuko turned around to raise a threatening fist to Iroh, who was laughing at him across the garden.
Ursa was smiling with her head on Iroh's shoulder. While they were watching, Zuko lifted his
teacup and poured it out onto the ground.

"Iroh likes it."

Zuko sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Brother."

He glanced at her.

"Katara and I may retire to Ember Island before she leaves." Their anniversary was fast
approaching. Azula wanted to be nowhere but Ember Island for that night. Maybe Katara would
humor another walk over the ocean. Maybe she could prove once and for all that she hadn't
changed during a quiet vacation.

He nodded lightly. "Just come back."

"How could I not? Lavishing on Ember Island isn't nearly as interesting as Capital City has proven
to be." She paused, thinking about her pet back on Ember Island. "How do you feel about bearded
cats?"

Zuko looked at her like she'd grown an extra head.

She'd kept an eye on Katara all evening. Now, the Avatar walked towards Katara with purpose.
Azula watched as their greeting turned into a heated conversation. Zuko followed her gaze. "You
going to do something about that?"

"I'm quite amused just watching. If I walk over there, he'll wander away and pout," she replied. She
wondered what they were saying out of pure curious amusement. Whatever it was, it had Katara
rolling her eyes. Katara saw her watching, and Azula wiggled her fingers in an indolent wave.
Katara stuck out her tongue childishly, but the expression broke into a smile. It was good to see
that smile directed at her again.

There weren't words to describe the look on the Avatar's face when he turned to see who Katara
was looking at. Azula gave him a little wave too.

Silk whispered on silk as Mai slipped next to Zuko and settled against his side. "Congratulations,"
Azula said, lowering her head in a small bow. "You now have to deal with my brother for the rest
of your life, Fire Lady."

"Ugh, don't call me that. Thank you for not ruining this ceremony," Mai replied dryly. "What are
you two plotting now?"

"We're enjoying watching the—"

There was another hiss of a different kind. Then an impact that shuddered through Azula's body.
Her glass shattered when she dropped it to reach up in vague curiosity towards the arrow that
protruded from her throat. The bristles of the split feathers at the end flickered from the breeze
created by her movements.

Her eyes turned to watch as Mai's fingers disappeared into her sleeve. Her gaze followed the path
of her knives as they zipped forward and sank into a lone archer crouched atop the palace wall.
The man screamed and fell through the patio as his second arrow thudded through Azula's chest.

As she turned her head, she felt the sticky arrowhead barb as it touched her shoulder. It had gone
through her neck completely. The barb of the second arrow caught and ripped on the back of her
robes as she turned. She didn't know what she was trying to do as she moved. It was very strange.

Azula went down on one knee before she got her leg back under her and stood. She pushed Zuko
away from her, but his grip was tight around her shoulders. He was shouting in her ear quite
annoyingly.

The leg buckled again, and her throat made a strange rumbling noise as she tried to speak. She
managed a harsh exhale—a screaming pain against the second arrow—and a fine mist of blood
escaped her mouth. There was blood in her lungs now, making it more difficult to breathe around
the shaft in her throat. It was too much effort to move so she stayed in her bowed position,
fingertips on the arrow in her throat.

The feathered ends were brilliant scarlet, the same color as the blood that dripped onto the ground.
Both flickered to gray as her sight shifted.

She saw a dragon in the swirling line of that blood—flickering from red to gray to blue and back
again. Her blood. Her dragon… Azula moved her thumb to touch it and felt the fire in it. Her
blood, her dragon, her fire. Her blood, her dragon, her fire. She understood, felt certain peace, and
smiled.

Someone shoved her roughly onto her backside. There were hands all around her. Someone
touched the first arrow and incited sharp pain, and she seized that hand before it could touch it
again. Words came at her but she couldn't process them.

Someone from behind her wrenched the arrow from that end. Azula's scream wouldn't come as
much as she needed it to. Then there was a great sucking pain as the arrow was torn from her neck.
She thrashed her legs at the agony and inhaled the sudden cascade of blood in her windpipe.
Then, blessedly, there was nothing.

The funeral pyre was set alight by flint-lit torches. As a non-bender, the dead deserved nothing but
natural fire to turn into ash. There were no mourners; those there to watch did so to make sure
death was absolute.

Self-proclaimed Phoenix King Ozai didn't rise to begin anew.

He had been hanged an hour before in the gray dusk. He'd deserved no sunlight to warm his skin in
those moments between the non-death of paralysis and true-death from suffocation. Now his body
was burned in the night to render it to ashes, not to send him to the afterlife.

Azula watched from where she sat between Katara and Zuko. She'd imagined what it would be like
to tell Ozai that his only child was the son he hated, the son who had risen up to take the throne in
the way he'd bitched about for years. That the child he'd raised and taught as his daughter was
fathered by the man he hated most in the world.

But Ozai had taken even that option from her. The first arrow that he'd ordered his spy to put
through her had taken her words from her; the second arrow had taken her breath.

They had also taken the last hope she'd ever had for regaining her bending. After battling back to
life from the wound in her throat, she'd fallen to pneumonia. She was still recovering from that—
possibly would never recover. Her breath was weak; her chest was tight. Her throat ached every
day, every breath. Even if she managed to find the fire in herself again, she would never be able to
wield it again.

And to think she was fortunate the arrows had not struck her spine or heart… She was lucky to be
alive.

What she'd wanted to ask Ozai was: why?

He'd had the loyalty of only one man in this nation—Li, the man Azula had stupidly promoted as
Ozai's warden—and in his last stand he'd used his every resource to kill Azula for taking a foreign
consort. Zuko had been right with his concerns after the attempt on Azula and Ursa in the royal
district; it had been about Katara. The men involved had been ordered to kill Azula and her
companion, which they'd assumed would be Katara, not Ursa.

When that attack had failed, Ozai's man had sent an archer to put an arrow through Azula's heart.
Thankfully, he'd hired a man who missed twice…a man who hadn't hesitated to give up Warden Li
and Ozai in exchange for a quick, honorable death by beheading.

Even more fortunate was that the archer's last arrow—meant for Katara—was never loosed. Azula
owed Mai a great debt.

Azula still couldn't understand it. Taking Katara as her consort was nothing, nothing at all in the
scale of what had been done in this nation since the war ended. They'd given up their colonies,
given money to the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom, raised taxation and pushed much of that
money back in social programs: all things that Ozai adamantly opposed in his rule. And yet Azula's
lover was what had tipped Ozai into action.

Iroh and Ursa's hands fell to her shoulders. Zuko put his hand on her arm. Katara's fingers threaded
through hers and squeezed gently. Azula couldn't force a smile or thank her family, but she did
return Katara's squeeze.
 Katara was the only reason she was alive. Katara was weak herself from the frequency and skill
she'd put into her waterbending to heal Azula day in and day out. She'd refused to let another healer
touch Azula through those first hours, that full first week even. Their anniversary, which Azula
had hoped to spend on Ember Island, was all agony and waterbending healing and fever and
drowning in her own fluids.

Azula's care had even delayed Katara's return to the Southern Water Tribe. Azula knew her consort
missed her home desperately. She'd wanted to bring Azula with her, but the royal physician had
vetoed it with a single statement: "It will kill her."

'Go,' Azula had written a week ago. That one word had only made Katara as angry as she'd ever
seen her.

It was a strange impasse, one to match the ennui Azula saw in herself. She had a vague thought that
Katara might leave her and simply not come back again. Azula had wondered at it deep in the
night, tracing her fingers through Katara's hair. She wondered what she might do if that happened.

But for now, Katara was here beside her. She would take what she could now and do what she
needed to later.

One measured step at a time.

Chapter End Notes

-end of Book 2-

Book 3 to follow.
 Things worth leaving for
Chapter Summary

-5 years later-

Summary: Azula realizes there must be some give to her take and journeys to the
South Pole to support Katara. There's still so much she must learn about her lover and
herself, and she discovers that happiness doesn't mean there's no room to grow.

Rice was a commodity among all nations of the world. It was used as currency, food, weight
measure, construction material, and animal feed. She'd read about seasons of planting, strains of
rice, and techniques for farming in every climate. Yet until today Azula had never once considered
what farmers went through to put it in the ground.

She reached the end of the muddy terrace and set her sack of seedlings down onto dry earth to strip
off of her overtunic, which was heavy with sweat and covered in mud. A skinny child raced
towards her with a bucket of water and a strip of linen cloth. She accepted the water and drank it
down, ignoring the motes of silt that swirled through it. It was delicious. The child dunked the
cloth into the bucket and wrapped it around her head. Immediately, Azula's headache began to
recede. She drank more water and let him dump the rest of it over her head and shoulders.

With a grunt, she replaced her satchel over her shoulder and straightened to slog through the thick
mud and water to the end of the terrace. She took two steps backwards from there and bent to plant
several seedlings by hand in a row. Two more slogging steps, and another. And another.

It was hot that day and humid to boot. The sun was shining in full force this close to the equator,
and there was little wind on this side of the mountain. When a gentle cool breeze did caress her
face, Azula raised her head into it for a reprieve. She looked up and past the terrace that had been
her life for the last few hours. Down the mountainside, the sun glittered off of the terraces that
extended below her. It was a giant staircase of reflected gold. Who would think such a beautiful
view would be the place of such hard work?

By the time she'd made it back to the edge of the terrace, the child was back with more water, and
she needed it. He was panting from racing between terraces to give water to many of the farmers.
She drank and handed him the bucket. "Drink." Her voice was a rough equivalent of what it used to
be, but she could use it again.

He took a few gulps before giving it back to her. She took a few more mouthfuls to soothe her
throat and bent her head to accept the rest dumped out onto her head and shoulders. Because she
could say it now: "Thank you."

The boy smiled for the first time, showing a half-grown tooth. Azula turned back to her task.

It was mindless and grueling. Her back ached in every position, her thighs screamed at her, and her
feet were disgusting from being submerged in mud this long. The sun beat hot on her back, and her
eyes hurt from its bright reflection across the water. This was a much different exercise than the
katas and sparring that had shaped and re-strengthened her body.
Never in her life had Azula considered how much she owed the farmers that tended to the Fire
Nation's crops. She'd conceptualized why they'd pumped national funding into their agriculture
programs to coax retired soldiers into the fields, but she hadn't truly understood it until now. They
needed more farmers to keep up with the mouths that needed feeding in the wake of the boom of
population in peacetime. Even as an emerging industrial nation, they couldn't afford to import more
than necessary from the Earth Kingdom. This was utterly thankless work. It was also not a way of
life that had historically been touted by her people. She would have to change that mentality; the
first step was today.

By the time evening rolled around, Azula had hit a level of exhaustion she hadn't experienced since
her first grueling days of rehabilitation. She'd only finished one terrace in the same amount of time
that most of the farmers had managed two, but she was greeted with laughter, smiles, thanks, and
enough bobbing incorrect bows for ten men.

Her guards—two men and one woman—looked as exhausted as she felt. Like her, they were caked
in mud up to their knees and covered in sweat. She'd only come out to observe the rice planting
operation this afternoon, but what was the use of observation when she could participate? She and
her two firebender guards had probably only saved a day's work for one man, but it was still one
day's work. Her Dai Li agent might have actually done some significant good by fashioning more
terraces up the mountain face, and he was clearly exhausted by it.

One of the farmers cleared off the back end of his cart, which had transported precious rice
seedlings up the mountain that morning. He bowed several times as he gestured to the empty cart.
"Please, milady."

Azula nodded; she ignored that he had used the wrong title for her and that his bow was atrocious.
She knew declining the hopeful request would hurt the man's feelings. If she was honest with
herself, she was tired enough to be grateful. She sat down on the edge of the cart and jolted as the
farmer and another man—possibly his son—lifted the front supports and began the walk down the
mountainside.

Her guards followed her, their swords at their sides again. They dragged their feet and walked in a
way that was not permitted in the Royal Guard Academy or by Captain Tao of her Dai Li. They
probably all regretted that they volunteered and fought for the position they now held. If someone
wanted to kill her enough to attack her then, the farmers would be more likely to save her.

Not that there was any danger of an attack. The public loved the royal family, and the nobles
quietly respected their power after Azula so easily won her first—and most likely last—Agni Kai.
Ozai had been the last violent act against the royal family, but Fung Tao had quietly ignored
Azula's requests these last five years to lose her guards. Now they were just another certain part of
life, like her servants.

Her transporters wouldn't hear of letting Azula walk one step. Once they reached the village where
all of the farmers lived, they continued to pull the cart slowly along the path and through the open
gates of the estate that was currently hosting her. Villagers bowed and waved as she rode by. She
gave them tired nods to acknowledge their greetings. Kota waited for them at the gates of the
estate, and credit to her calm demeanor, she only raised her eyebrows when she saw them sweaty
and caked in mud.

"Thank you," Azula told the men as she pushed off of the cart. She would have said more, but her
voice was hoarse from her exertion that day. One thing she'd learned about herself was she'd spent
much of her life avoiding those words while still saying them. 'Your help has been noted' would
have naturally passed her lips before the arrows had rendered her mute. Words were no longer
cheap, and a 'thank you' was worth more than she'd ever realized…at least in this situation.

They bowed low with wide smiles. "You've blessed us, milady."

Once she would have made a sarcastic comment about blessing them with her sweat—she thought
it anyway—but she was too tired. They were too honest with their words. This wasn't noble
posturing; this was true gratitude. She nodded a soft bow instead.

"Planting rice, Princess?" Kota primly asked as the two men rattled away with their cart.

Azula nodded wearily. Instead of walking through the house and tracking mud, they rounded the
house to the outdoor baths. Azula's guards followed, silent and tired. She motioned for her female
guard to join her in the private bathing area. The men made use with the water piped from the
creek that ran down the mountainside and probably gave an eyeful to the lord and lady of the
household. No doubt it was a welcome eyeful.

Kota splashed cool water across Azula's shoulders. "You're sunburned, Princess."

It had been a long time since Azula's skin had been out in the sun this long. She was usually in
council meetings and on tours like this to gain goodwill from the general public and drum up
funding from nobles and their businesses. Her life had turned into what she'd always vaguely
imagined it would be as a child: working in the background to support her brother, the Fire Lord.
Of course, as a dreaming child 'working in the background' had meant she was leading military
conquests. It had taken her a long time to realize it was better this way.

The tours, even this one, felt like vacation from the petty childishness of the noble bureaucrats.
Even when frustrated from dealing with their trivialities back at Capital City, she was happy with
the life she'd made for herself. There was some victory in the small things too, and her contentment
would sneak up to her in times like this. She enjoyed the work she'd put into her country with her
brother to make it better and protect their people.

Not that she didn't appreciate time off. Maybe she and Katara could slip away soon to Ember
Island for a few weeks of relaxation.

Kota scrubbed Azula's hair and splashed her clean with more cool water that was balm for Azula's
overheated body. Kota descended to work on Azula's mud-caked feet as Azula saw to the rest of
her body. When Azula felt like she wasn't about to crawl out of her own skin in disgust, Kota asked,
"Will you soak?"

Azula flicked her hand in decline; it was too hot.

Kota patted her dry and rubbed cooling balm into Azula's shoulders and back. It eased the hot pain
of her burned skin and softened the ache in her muscles. Her sigh prompted Kota to ask, "Would
you like a massage, Princess?"

"After dinner."

Her guards were all dressed and ready by the time Azula took dinner with her hosts. The local Lord
and Lady Mobin, who owned some of the farmland and much of the irrigation in the area, were
bemused by the work she'd done that afternoon. They were good hosts; they didn't expect Azula to
carry the conversation and chattered happily with each other. Lord Mobin did point out, "There
was no need to actually plant rice yourself, Princess Azula."

They were good people. The villagers looked to them as benevolent neighbors. They made sure
everyone in the village was fed and had a basic modicum of healthcare. It was a thing of marvel
that such proud people accepted their help at all. The lord and lady also funded the school that
educated all of the children in the area. It had existed even before Mai and Azula's literacy program
began a few years before.

When the Mobins had learned of Azula's plans to implement a terrace system for rice production,
they'd volunteered their land to be the first test. It took several years to fashion enough terraces up
the mountain face that neighbored the traditional farming flats, but the first season using the
terraces had been shockingly productive. Azula, of course, had wanted to see it for herself.

"I've always been curious about the process of planting rice." Azula raised her bowl of steamed
vinegar rice in salute. "I'm no longer curious."

The Mobins laughed, and Azula took a sip of warm tea to clear her throat.

"We'll be sorry to see you leave on the morrow. It has been such an enjoyable, educational visit."
Lady Mobin looked at Azula beneath her eyelashes.

Educational was the word. The lord and lady had made a few overtures that had surprised and
flattered Azula. She imagined bringing Katara here to expose her to the elegant—though entirely
distasteful—propositions. The lord and lady had let her know they would welcome Katara for a
visit as well. Apparently they owned an enormous bed.

"This has been a surprisingly delightful visit." Katara was due to be back in Capital City at the end
of the week. It had been months… Azula planned to be back and waiting. "Thank you for your
hospitality. I will…" She had to pause to clear her throat. "I will be retiring for the evening."

"Of course, Princess."

The Mobins had given her an entire wing of their estate after she declined sharing their bed. Azula
bypassed the study Kota had set up for her and dropped facedown onto the bed instead. She didn't
suppress her groan.

Kota was ever present. "Massage?"

It would be difficult for Kota to attend to her on the bed. Her servant was becoming ungainly
pregnant, which would make her sitting on the bed to lean over Azula's back uncomfortable.
Azula's muscles protested as she got up to resettle on the settee by the balcony. Before Azula lay
down on her belly, Kota handed her a small cup of pungent liquid.

Azula swallowed the opiate extract, relaxing at once when the pain in her throat eased and the
constant need to cough retreated. She disrobed and slid forward onto the lounge. Kota's oiled hands
rubbed over her back, her backside, her legs, and her arms, kneading gently and drawing Azula into
a state of heavy relaxation. Finally, Kota rubbed her neck and ascended to her scalp in soft circles.

Azula awoke with a crick in her neck. She was stiff, despite the massage, but she felt better than
she had earlier. Only a few hours must have passed; the moon was still visible through the open
balcony. Kota was reading there with a flickering yellow flame. The rare sound of rustling leaves
and cicadas nearly made Azula close her eyes again.

Instead, she stood up, pulled on her robe, and approached her servant. "A letter from your
husband?"

Kota jumped, and Azula was gleeful that she'd managed to catch her bodyservant off-guard. Kota
allowed the scroll in her hands to reroll. She began to get up, but Azula waved her off. "I'm going
to meditate. I shouldn't need you again today."
"Good night, Princess."

Before she meditated, she stretched to ease the uncomfortable stiffness in her muscles. After she
finished, she settled down in a quiet corner of the room in lotus position. She closed her eyes and
began her breathing exercises. Some of the effect of the opiate had worn off, but her throat still felt
relaxed. Her lungs were strong again, despite the scars that marked her right ribcage and her neck,
and they expanded easily on her inhale.

Then, as her physician and Katara had both suggested, she exhaled in a low hum, vibrating her
vocal cords and exercising them. It was a gentle irritation, but it had helped her rehabilitate after
those first six months in which Azula could make no sound at all. She was too tired to sing tonight.
Such a chore was easier with Iroh, his pipa, and his bawdy songs.

Everything had come back, little by little, despite her fears. After giving everything up, she'd been
stunned by each return of her old strength. Every advancement was a massive victory: her first
word, her first completed kata, her first song, her first sparring match win. A year after she'd taken
the arrows through her, she'd been able to hold her newborn nephew in her arms and say his name
aloud, a memory she still held close.

Sounds of Kota rustling around the room brought Azula back from her meditation some time later.
She cracked a yawn that surprised her and padded over to the writing desk.

Katara:

I planted a terrace worth of rice today. I'm entertaining the thought of the haughtiness on your face
at the thought of me doing menial labor.

She paused and looked at her feather pen; all the noblewomen used them now to write in their
phonetic script. Azula wrote in that script now because Katara preferred it to the stiff formality of
the universal morpheme system. Katara had learned to read it—not just the words but Azula's
moods as well—in those months that a pen and brush had served as Azula's voice. Now Azula
studied the paper. What had she to hide?

I miss you. I love you. We need to figure out something better than this few-months-at-a-time
system. We'll speak of it when I see you again. I'll be waiting at home.

Azula

Kota was beside her as she folded the letter flat. Her bodyservant bent fire to melt wax, and Azula
pressed her personal seal into it. The blue wax hardened into the shape of dragon with its wings
spread. Beside that dragon, Azula wrote the date.

"Shall I send it tonight, Princess?"

There was no point in that. "In the morning will do."

Azula's small ship sailed into Capital Bay late the next evening. She stood on the deck of the ship
and watched the glittering lights of the bay city that ascended in switchbacks up Capital City's
volcano barrier. As much as she enjoyed leaving it for a week or two at a time, she appreciated
coming home.

Fung Tao, her Dai Li captain, was waiting on the dock with his usual partner. The two men bowed
to her and settled in seamlessly with her three guards.
"I trust your trip went well, Princess," Tao said.

"It was quite educational." Azula glanced over her shoulder and seized Kota's wrist as they stepped
on the short gangplank to the dock. Kota needed to have that baby soon to stop her awkward
waddling and return to her usual efficiency.

A carriage awaited them. The two Dai Li agents helped Kota ascend into the carriage, and Azula
stepped up after. She motioned for Fung Tao to ride with them. With her day of rest, she had no
trouble with her words. "I trust my family hasn't destroyed the palace in my absence."

Tao smiled uncharacteristically. "No, Princess. Though there was an incident in which the young
Prince Tozin set fire to Fire Lord Zuko's robes. The situation was…controlled."

"On purpose?" Tozin promised to be a mischievous boy, but that seemed quite uncharacteristic
even in his worst pouts.

Fung Tao cleared his throat gravely. "The young Prince sneezed."

Azula didn't temper her laughter. Why did she always miss these things?

Beside the carriage, an annoying thumb-bell rang twice to signal someone wished to pass. Azula
watched through the curtain as a bicycle-carriage ponderously rode by their ostrich horse-drawn
carriage. She raised an eyebrow to see not one but two well-dressed women sitting in the basket
pulled by it.

The bicycle driver rode along at a good clip despite his sizable burdens. His progressed slowed
considerably when he screamed; apparently Azula's ostrich horse was attracted to the shiny bell on
his bicycle handle. The two ladies—shockingly fat ladies who had somehow crammed into the
basket behind the bicycle—giggled. "Go faster, Kazimo!"

Azula had some sympathy for the poor man. She stuck her head out of the carriage to speak to their
driver. "Let them pass."

The women goggled at her. When they regained their senses, they gasped, "Princess!" Their words
weren't in fear but delight.

It was to be expected. With no war, there was little reason for the royal family to present
themselves as a faceless warrior; in fact, it was against their best interests. Zuko had the task of
humanizing himself to the general public automatically completed: he had two children. Azula had
to suffer these little interactions, but she could still take some pleasure out of it.

"Good evening," Azula told the women. "Consider losing a bit of weight; your servant may have a
heart attack before he gets you to where you're going. Though it appears walking would do you
both some good."

They both gasped in shock as they rode by, too stunned by her comment to make a reply. As the
panting bicycler passed the ostrich horse, one of the women turned in her seat with a laugh to call
out, "He's not a servant; he's my husband!"

Azula ducked back into the carriage as it began to move. She amused by the entire situation despite
herself. Commoners could be very strange people.

"Princess," Fung Tao said with mild reproach.

She rolled her eyes at him. "The only way they were going to kill me was to sit on me and
suffocate me, and they weren't even that large." She paused to consider that. "Apparently the new
Earth Kingdom ambassador enjoys such pursuits. All the fattest prostitutes of Muma District will
be rich by the end of his stay."

Kota hid her laughter in a little cough, and Fung Tao smirked.

By the time they reached the palace, it was far too late to drop in on her family. Her servants would
inform their servants that she'd returned. No doubt they would call on her tomorrow for breakfast.

Though she'd entertained the marginal hope that Katara would be back, Azula wasn't surprised to
find her bedroom empty, excepting the bearded cat that wound 'round her legs and trilled. She
picked up Tonk and settled the cat under her arm as she approached her desk.

The thick scroll from the Southern Water Tribe on her desk surprised her. A low tremble of fear—
then anger—worked through her.

Azula wrote small bits every day; it helped center her and marked the end of her workday. There
was always a catalogue of things she'd seen that day that Katara might like, and Katara claimed to
enjoy the stack of letters that arrived with each ship to the Southern Water Tribe. Katara, on the
other hand, wrote tomes: pages and pages of news and thoughts and plans. They arrived rarely,
once per month at most. And Katara never wrote a letter when she was due to arrive soon.

Azula dropped the cat and reached out to snap the binding of the letter with more vigor than it
warranted. She unwrapped four long leaves of paper.

Azula, I'm sorry. I can't come.

Azula set down the letter, picked up the candlestick on her desk, and threw it across the room. It
connected with a decorative vase, shattering it in a massive crash. Tonk hissed and raced out of the
room. Azula felt little satisfaction at her childish display of temper, especially when Kota rushed
into the room in alarm and two Dai Li agents appeared on her balcony.

"Leave it!" The scream hurt, but she'd managed it, a victory in itself.

Kota knew Azula's temper well; she bowed and left both the broken vase and Azula. The Dai Li
guards slipped away into shadow. Azula rubbed her face furiously. She made herself sit down to
meditate, and eventually her racing heart slowed and the tightness in her throat relaxed. Her anger
was her defense. When it melted, she was afraid.

These last few years, Katara had been staying longer and longer in the South Pole; her last two
visits to Azula, her consort, were four weeks when combined. Katara hadn't acted like she hadn't
wanted to be with Azula; she'd acted like there was something in the South Pole she couldn't wait
to get back to.

Another lover, she wondered vaguely at the end of the last visit. She'd wondered it even as Katara
held her close on the docks of Capital Bay and kissed her as if she were memorizing the essence of
Azula's mouth. She'd wondered it when Katara never asked Azula to come with her.

Was this letter the first step towards Katara breaking off their relationship?

She told herself she was being paranoid. Azula knew that Katara's decision hadn't been made
lightly. As much as she wanted to be the first priority in Katara's life, it would never happen. It was
stupid to wish for.

She sat down at the desk and smoothed out the pages that she'd unconsciously crumpled. Her
fingers were trembling.

Azula, I'm sorry. I can't come. Everything has turned into a giant clusterfuck, and I'm at the end of
my rope just trying to keep on top of things.

Startled by the vulgarity, Azula reread the first paragraph. She had never seen or heard Katara use
that term. What had happened in the last few months? She continued reading with more trepidation
than before.

Pakku's still sick, and I'm losing hope. Every day I try to heal him, and every day it makes no
difference. Gran Gran is being strong, but I'm so sad for her. She already lost one husband. She's
going to lose another because I can't heal Pakku. I'd trust him to Noakka, the resident Master
Waterbender here, but there's the crux (as you would say) of this whole horrible situation.

Noakka was attacked by a polar bear dog when he went out hunting. He went alone, even though
he knew it was dangerous and I told him not to. The bear has been lurking around the village for
weeks but we still can't find and kill the damn thing. It's gotten into our fishing holes and
completely destroyed an old seal-hunting camp we've had from when I was a little girl. We didn't
find Noakka until he was already half-eaten. There was nothing we could do.

I'm so angry with him. He left me in a situation that we could hardly manage together. I shouldn't
be so angry. He was my friend. Usually deaths like that here…not of old age or sickness (incidental
deaths?) happen when someone slips into the ice and drowns. Usually they just disappear. That's
bad, but… It wasn't pleasant to see my friend turned into a carcass. I'll be alright. I'm so busy I
don't have time to think about it, but sometimes when I'm in my furs at night, I'll close my eyes and
see him like that. It's not fair to remember a person like that.

Everyone was upset. We didn't know what to do for his ceremony with only half a body. Less than
that, actually. A head, his spine, and a hand. Dolla (that's my second cousin's mother, so you'd call
her my aunt, I guess) sewed a linen sack in the shape of a man and stuffed it with straw and rocks.
She almost chose ice, but I pointed out we wanted him to sink, not float. At least we were able to
laugh about that. We wanted to put his parts in their approximate place, but there was no way. It
was disquieting. Anyway, he was delivered to the sea in a way that didn't give the children
nightmares, though Dolla and I have had a few ourselves.

Goes to figure that Noakka would make everything difficult for us. I shouldn't say that. He was a
good man. I hope he's at peace where he is. I hope he died before he became…that.

You know I'm not superstitious, but even I'm beginning to think there's something to the idea of evil
spirits lurking in our tribe. We've lost Noakka, we're losing Pakku, and the village might starve
when the ice closes for winter.

We haven't been able to land a whale yet, and we need 3 to survive the ice closing. I've told you
before that we need as many waterbenders as possible to raise our chances of landing a whale, and
the 3 others here are too inexperienced to help on a whale hunt. And Pakku…obviously he's not fit
to help us.

There are 3 adults on watch every day, and there are usually just as many children looking out too.
All those people, and we've seen 1 whale. One . I directed the boat to find it. We spent hours on
that boat, feeling for the next breath (surfacing), but it slipped away before we could even raise a
spear. I must have misread its movement. It was a bad time to lose a whale.

Azula paused at this paragraph. There were several lines of writing that had been struck through
vigorously. She managed to make out the words: 'It was my fault'. A little further down: '…when I
can't afford to screw up'. Katara was upset and very worried about this matter then. She continued
reading.

In any other year, we would have at least 2 whales butchered and stored by now. It'll take more
than 100 seals to match the meat and fat and bone from a whale. Even if we had enough seal meat,
we need the whale for its nutrients. There's no way to survive without one.

On top of that, there are 3 women due to deliver soon, and 2 elders require almost daily health
checks, apart from Pakku. I hope one of them doesn't go into labor or a heart crisis while I'm on
the whaling kayak. I need 3 of me, and then maybe things can be handled. 4, if I want to get all the
things we've been putting off done. Like building proper houses and a town hall and a school and
expanding the ice wall and so on and so forth. As you say, 'et cetera ad nauseum'. (Did I spell that
right? Where does that phrase even come from?)

We'll survive. We always do. But I can't leave the village now.

I've sent missives to the Northern Water Tribe for a Master Waterbender (I begged for 2) but it
may take 2 months from me sending this letter (at the fastest) for someone to arrive. I'll have to
train them when they do come. I won't be able to come back for months…3 at least, 6 at most.

Azula, I need you. I need you with me. It's not fair to ask, but please, will you come to me? I want to
sleep next to you again. I want to talk to you. I need your support. I need you. I don't know if I can
do this without you.

With all my love and regret,

Katara

Azula reread the last paragraph three times. Katara hadn't stayed by choice. She didn't want to
leave Azula. This wasn't an excuse to avoid being with her. She didn't have another lover in the
Southern Water Tribe, not if she was pleading for Azula to come be with her.

"Kota."

Kota hesitantly entered the room.

Her voice was hoarse but certain as she said, "Send a note to Captain Lee that I'll be going with his
next shipment. His ship should be ready to leave at dawn in two days. They should expect an
extended stay."

The next morning, Azula took breakfast with her parents. Iroh sipped his tea and regarded her over
his cup. He was completely bald now—likely because Ursa had taken a razor to the ring around
the back of his head that still grew hair—and he wore his facial hair in the newest style: a full but
short beard. Ursa's hair was solid gray and she had deep laugh lines, but she carried those features
with dignity. They'd grown to look like a couple in all these years.

"What's this I hear about you going to the South Pole?" Ursa's question was prim.

"The truth," Azula replied, motioning for a refill of her caffeinated tea. She'd been restless the night
before and hadn't slept well. "I leave tomorrow."

Ursa cocked her head. While her face expressed mild reproach, her voice didn't. "Katara isn't
coming?"

"She can't. So I'm going to her."

"Who are you taking with you?"

Azula sensed this conversation was going somewhere she didn't want it to, but she answered
truthfully. "A healer: Ling's apprentice, foodstuffs, building supplies, and myself."

"You know, the South Pole is a very pretty place." Iroh directed his observation to Ursa. Ursa
smiled and took his hand. She replied, "I've always wanted to go."

"This isn't a vacation." Their audacity irritated her. "They're low of food and supplies—"

"And of course we'll make a contribution to your gifts," Iroh said calmly. "More than enough to
feed your mother and myself for a few weeks."

"I don't know why you even bothered pretending I had a choice about this." Azula punctuated her
accusation with a firm bite of sliced apple. Their smiles were too indulgent to be anything but
insulting. "We sail at first light tomorrow. If you're not on board, you'll have to find your own ship
or swim."

A servant stepped forward. Azula didn't recognize him. He announced, "The Fire Lord."

They all stared at him in utter shock before Ursa and Iroh exchanged irritated looks. Zuko swept
past the servant and waved him away with a dry rebuke. "I can announce myself to family, thanks."

The boy bobbed a low bow and retreated. At least he hadn't stopped to beg forgiveness. Azula
doubted he would be called on to serve Zuko in that capacity anytime soon. He was about thirteen
years late on the formality of announcing the Fire Lord to whatever room he walked into.

Azula adopted a snooty tone, "The Fire Lord! All bow to his great prestigious power and—" Zuko
flicked her off. "—his refined vulgarity."

"Zuko!" Ursa scolded. He sighed as he sat down and managed a contrite expression. Kota stepped
forward to pour Zuko a cup of tea. He glanced at her in surprise. "I didn't realize you were
pregnant."

Kota was surprised to be addressed, but she recovered before she overfilled his teacup. "Yes, Fire
Lord."

"Azula's not forcing you to go with her, is she?"

He'd been insufferable since Mai had had their second child. Zuko seemed to think he knew more
about pregnancy than anyone else. While she didn't envy him sitting in a birthing room with Mai,
Azula also didn't appreciate that he paired his knowledge with the assumption that she had none.
Azula saved her servant the need to answer Zuko.

"What do you take me for, a midwife? I'll be happy to be well away from the horrors of a woman
pushing a grapefruit sized baby head out of her body. Kota, I would also prefer you to go put your
feet up and concentrate on not having that baby until I leave. One of my parent's servants will
attend us."

Kota bowed but not before Azula saw her smirk.

Zuko sighed as he watched her leave. "Mai's not showing yet."

It was the first Azula had heard of it. A third child in five years. Their royal suite would be overrun
by screaming children soon. "Congratulations." Oddly, she meant it. As boring as Zuko and Mai
proved to be, they produced wonderfully rambunctious, clever children.

Ursa beamed at Zuko and reached out to squeeze his hand. "So many beautiful grandbabies for
me." She shot Azula a pointed look. She'd been practically shoving fathering candidates down
Azula's throat the last three years. They were all pretty, all stupid, all firebenders. All decidedly not
going to put their penises or seed anywhere near Azula's body.

Zuko rescued Azula from Ursa's demands. "How long will you be gone?"

"I can't say. Until Katara's ready to come back with me. Do you have time today to discuss my
trip?"

Zuko shook his head. "I have to smooze with a few Earth Kingdom families to drum up some
financing for a project, and my council needs a babysitter for their audit—sounds like you're too
busy to do that for me. Too bad, since you're the only person in the world who enjoys them."

"Threaten them with my presence if they give you trouble," she said gleefully. She made no
mention of his 'project', otherwise known as the future Republic City. Azula let him believe he
could keep that secret from her.

Zuko smirked. "Do you mind if we exchange written reports?"

"I'm always happy to have a bit of light reading on a trip." She sighed airily and looked down her
nose at him. "It's an excellent remedy for sleeplessness."

His jaw dropped. "Wait, are you talking about my reports? Because you are the wordiest writer I
have ever read. That is sleeping material."

"I'm detailed."

"Too detailed."

"Dumb-dumb."

"Poop-head!"

"I'm so glad my children have grown up to be such mature adults," Ursa said to Iroh with a pout.

At that, Zuko blew a wet raspberry, and Azula replied in kind.

Ursa sighed wearily, and Iroh sputtered into his tea and began to cough. Zuko and Azula shared
smirks. It was so much fun to make fun of their mother.

"On that lovely note…" Ursa leaned over the table to kiss Zuko. She poked his shoulder gently. "I
have a few errands to run. Make time to meet me for dinner tonight. I don't want my last memory of
you before this trip to be you making a rude face."

"What about you, Uncle?"

Iroh patted Zuko's shoulder with a smile. "Yes, of course, Zuko."

After they'd left, Zuko and Azula sat in comfortable silence in the quiet of the morning. "Stay as
long as you need," Zuko finally said. It was generous of him; she'd had a long list of work lined up
for the next month. Azula warned him, "That may be a long time."

He raised his eyebrow. "I don't know how you do it. I'd go crazy without Mai with me every day.
Hell, I can't even sleep without her snoring next to me."

That was an interesting tidbit that Azula would enjoy entertaining for a long time to come. She
could just imagine it: Mai asleep with her mouth open, producing gusty snores. Zuko shot her a
glare. "For the sake of my marriage, don't repeat that."

"Mom would kill me if I made future grandbabies an impossibility."

"How are you?"

She could have answered flippantly or just brushed off the question, but Zuko had been serious.
She was honest. "Stronger than I could hope. I planted rice on my trip."

Zuko snorted. "Why do you have to try everything you go to observe on those trips? You make me
look bad."

"That isn't hard, Brother. And I get so bored," Azula said airily, ignoring his glare. "I've always
wondered what it's like to be the common people, and I get to dabble at it when I travel around and
call it work."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "You have a shorter attention span than my four-year-old. You'd better stop in
to say 'hi' to the kids before you go." Zuko stood and stretched. "Well, I'm off to smooze."

He hesitated a moment. She could sense an awkward family moment when she saw one, so she
stood up and stepped into his hug. Zuko pulled her tight by her shoulders. He spoke quietly. "Enjoy
your trip. Tell her you love her."

She patted his shoulder and pushed him away. "I don't need romantic advice from my dumb-dumb
big brother. But I had planned on it."

After he left, Azula settled in her study and read through her notes from her trip. She added a few
tidbits and organized her observations and ideas. Zuko had accused her of being too detail-oriented.
He'd just have to deal with it.

Tonkara made her presence known halfway through the report when she leapt on the desk and
began to bat at Azula's writing brush. Azula sighed at her cat, gave her a scratch, and
unceremoniously pushed her off of the desk. Her reprieve lasted all of five minutes. This time,
Tonk swiped her tail under Azula's nose, and Azula gave her cat a little toss onto the nearby settee.

"Jump up again, and I'll throw you off the balcony," she threatened.

The cat jumped on her desk again. Azula didn't throw her off the balcony.

By the time she'd finished her report it was midafternoon. Kota slipped into the study with a
welcome announcement. "Lady Laza is calling."

Azula folded her report and stood. "Are we on schedule for tomorrow?"

"Yes, Princess. Ling's apprentice has been quite helpful. He's impatient to leave."

Ling had been the head royal physician for years. His newest apprentice, Jun, had practically
jumped on Azula's suggestion for a trip to the Southern Water Tribe the evening before. He was
ambitious but mostly eager for adventure...and to get away from the very angry noblewoman he'd
snubbed.
"We'll take lunch in the garden." She frowned at Kota. "Take a nap. And stop bowing."

"Yes, Princess." Kota hesitated mid-bow. Her face twitched in perplexity; Azula held back her
laugh.

Azula made her way down to the gardens alone. A table had been set with food by the time she
stepped outside. Laza, dressed in atrociously bright robes that were the new fashion for
noblewomen, waited beside the table. She bowed and settled into her seat after Azula sat down.

"You came alone," Azula pointed out, a little surprised that Laza hadn't brought her wife.

"You didn't, Princess," Laza said, nodding to the bearded cat that had followed Azula down into
the gardens. Tonk quickly found Azula's lap. "If I'd brought Kili, you'd both start talking about
mongoose dragon eggs and breeding and ejaculate amount, and I'd be asleep in minutes."

Probably true. Laza's wife was the only person Azula knew who loved mongoose dragons more
than she did.

"Rare for you to call on me." And a breach of etiquette. Invitations and calls were supposed to
come from the superior household first. With the laxness of formality in the last few years,
sometimes noble families overstepped. Azula didn't mind in this case.

"Someone may have mentioned to me that if I wanted to call on you, today would be my last
chance for a while." Laza set her teacup down, her voice lowered in excitement. "Are you going to
elope?"

Laza was always eager for rumors and innuendo, though usually they came to Azula, not from her.
"I thought the whole point of eloping was to do it in secret." Before Laza could react, Azula
continued. "I'm afraid it's more serious than that. The Southern Water Tribe has hit some lean
times, and Katara must stay with them to help them prepare for winter. I'm taking myself and aid."

Laza didn't hide her disappointment. On one rare occasion involving a bit too much wine, Laza had
forgotten herself and accused Azula of being unromantic. Azula could guess that was where her
thoughts were now. Laza asked her, "Isn't it always winter so close to the pole?"

"The ice closes, cutting off their whaling access, and because of their orientation on the globe,
night falls for weeks on end."

"Ice and endless night? Sounds horrible. Shall I mention it to my friends?"

Laza enjoyed an extensive ring of noblewomen contacts, which saved Azula having to keep track
of them individually. They had formed a donation group and hosted fundraisers to send supplies or
funds to areas that were in need around the world. It was still rather shocking to Azula that Laza
had managed to group the flightiest bunch of women in the world and lead them to do something
productive.

And that was only in her spare time.

"Nothing insulting." Azula recalled one particular fiasco that had set their relationship with the
Northern Water Tribe back a few months. "But some donated funds and appropriate foodstuffs and
supplies wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing coming from the ladies of the Fire Nation. Wait until I
send for it before you send what you've collected."

"Are you healthy enough to travel to such a place?"

Azula hadn't even considered consulting with her physician. If Katara asked her as she had, then
her consort thought she was strong enough. Azula certainly felt strong enough. She waved off
Laza's concern paired with a warning look.

Across the garden came twin shrieks of delight. Laza winced and pretended she hadn't. Tonk took
one horrified look towards the noise and leapt from Azula's lap to hide. Azula prepared herself for
the two children running full-tilt towards her.

The boy, Tozin, had just celebrated his fourth birthday. He was as clumsy as Zuko had been at that
age and tripped headlong on the stone pathway. Azula flinched in a completely uncontrollable
reaction. Rina, the little girl, was almost three. She didn't wait for her brother and scrambled into
Azula's lap. Her skinny little knees and elbows jabbed some very painful places.

"I am not a climbing tree," Azula said dryly.

Rina predictably ignored the rebuke and gave her a sticky kiss, provoking a shudder of disgust.
Why were children so dirty? She wrapped Azula's neck in an enthusiastic hug. "Auntie!"

Azula put her arm around her niece to return her hug. She kept her eyes on Tozin, who'd clambered
to his feet but was blinking back tears. He turned to Mai, who'd followed at a more sedate speed,
for a hug. Mai patted his back and took his hand firmly as they walked the rest of the way to the
patio.

"Let me see." Azula pointed to Tozin's knee.

Tozin sniffled and stepped closer, pulling up the edge of his trousers. Azula looked at his skinned
knee clinically. "Where's the rest of it?"

"What?" he asked her, showing the gap where he'd knocked out his front tooth on the garden
fountain.

"The big piece of skin you lost. Where is it?"

Tozin immediately stopped sniffling. His amber eyes went round, and he turned back to the garden
path. Rina at that point was bored with Azula's lap and clambered off of her, racing after her
brother. They both combed the garden path in concentrated search.

A servant had a chair and a place set for Mai in a few short moments. Laza stood and bowed;
Azula didn't bother to get up. Laza said, "Fire Lady, I'm honored by your presence."

Mai rolled her eyes. "I hate it when people call me that. My name is Mai. Those robes are ugly."

"Don't worry, she's always this grumpy," Azula told Laza, who was always a little uncertain in the
face of Mai's rudeness. "One flash of color and she scowls for a week."

"Screw you, Azula," Mai said genially. "You started the stupid fashion."

"It was to prove of point," Azula defended.

"It was because Zuko dared you. You two act like three-year-olds."

Azula fulfilled that statement by saying, "He started it."

Laza hid her smirk with her teacup. Across the garden, Rina shrieked in girlish delight. The pitch
and volume of that scream drew a faint wince from all of them. Mai pointedly did not—nor would
she ever—try to silence her children while they were playing.

"Were we this loud as children?"

"I wasn't. You and Ty Lee were," Mai said. "Zuko said you're thinking about changing careers to
be a rice farmer."

Laza laughed. "Princess Azula, you seem bound and determined to try every trade and craft in this
nation. What was it last month, a silk weaver?"

"I'm terrible at it all," she admitted smugly. She heaved an airy sigh and said, "Thank the dragon I
was born the Royal Princess or I'd never have managed to make a living."

The children were back with a question for Azula. "Can we feed the turtle ducks?"

Azula knew better than to answer without parental input; Mai could be downright territorial when
it came to her kids. She glanced at Mai, who nodded. Azula handed a small painted wooden bowl
of rice to Rina. "This is a very valuable bowl," she told her niece dryly. "Priceless. So don't drop
it."

Rina stared at the bowl in her hands.

"Let me carry it!" Tozin, ever the older brother, reached out for it.

"As I said, a very valuable bowl. When it's full of rice, it can only be carried by Fire Nation
Princesses." Rina smiled triumphantly, and Tozin pouted but put his hands down. They both knew
very early in life that they were Prince and Princess. "However, when it's empty, it may be carried
by Fire Nation Princes."

Tozin and Rina looked at each other then looked at Azula as they sorted that out. She could
practically see the gears turning in their heads as they worked through the logic of what she'd said.
There could be two results: Tozin would make his little sister drop the bowl and start a temper
tantrum, or they would work together. Azula waved them towards the turtle duck pond, and they
chose the latter scenario. The children turned and actually walked to the pond, whispering with
each other. They handled the bowl like it was made of fragile dragonglass.

"It's not nice to lie to children," Mai said.

"Clearly I was being facetious."

"That's the same thing as lying when you're talking to a two-year-old. They're probably going to
yell at Zuko for picking up a rice bowl." Mai sipped her tea daintily. She looked like she found the
thought entertaining.

"Congratulations," Azula said.

Laza's eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything.

Mai only sighed. "It's Zuko's fault. We agreed on two." But as she said it, she turned her eyes to her
children, and Azula knew she wanted the one inside her now.

Tozin and Rina squatted by the turtle ducks, giggling when the little animals waddled between their
feet to snatch up the wads of rice the children dropped the ground. They were gentle as they
reached out to pat them—probably because they didn't have a tail to pull like poor Tonk did—and
Rina gave a happy shriek when a turtle duck nibbled at her toes.
Azula was struck by an old memory from her own childhood involving Ozai. She'd finally reached
a point in her life that thoughts of Ozai no longer immediately brought bitter anger. She kept her
memories separated from the man himself, and that helped sooth much of the bitterness that had
burdened her for years. This memory made her smile.

"Shall I regale you with the tale of Ozai and the turtle ducks?"

Mai rolled her eyes. Laza looked at her curiously. It was permission enough to speak.

"Ozai once found me with a turtle duck in my lap. He threw the turtle duck back in the pond and
told me to find him a rock. When I did, he threw the rock at that turtle duck. I thought he'd killed it.
But it popped up to the surface unharmed and happy. They are rather stupid animals, after all. Ozai
told me there was a lesson in that:

"'Some things appear impenetrable, invincible. They cannot be broken or crushed from the outside,
like the turtle duck. But there's a species of crab that lays eggs where turtle ducks eat. When the
turtle duck eats the eggs, one will hatch inside it. The baby crab consumes it from the inside, where
the turtle duck is soft and vulnerable. When the crab grows up, it has the shell for itself.'"

There was a beat of silence as they digested it. Then Mai turned to Azula, as incredulous as such a
deadpan woman could ever be. "You're not seriously telling me we owe Ba Sing Se's fall to turtle
ducks."

Azula leaned back and crossed her legs. She was pleased Mai had drawn the parallel. "Ozai had
very good lessons...though it's clear he never actually understood them."

"Yeah," Mai agreed. "That giant drill seems even stupider now."

"May I use that story, Princess?"

Laza wrote and illustrated picture books for children in a campaign to give commoners the tools to
teach their children to read. It was funded greatly—for tax credits—by the new printing press
company headquartered in Capital City, allowing each book to be sold for a few copper pieces.
Laza had had the clever idea of writing with the traditional kanji and printing the phonetic script
beside each symbol so readers could use one or the other to read.

Azula smirked, imagining what Ozai's reaction would be if he could know he would star in a
children's book. His imaginary screaming rage was deliciously satisfying. "If you can make that
gruesome lesson appropriate for a storybook, I applaud you. Do be sure to illustrate the turtle duck
snapping at his feet in retaliation the entire time."

Tozin was at her side again, holding out the empty rice bowl carefully. Azula motioned for him to
put it on the table. "I'm a Princess of the Fire Nation," she said seriously. "I can't carry it when it's
empty."

His eyes rounded again. The children had trouble with the concept of an adult being Princess, but
they took her words as truth. He set the bowl on the table. Then he clambered into her lap and gave
her a kiss and a hug to match his sister's. She allowed herself to enjoy it. A moment later, he was
off, running through the gardens with his little sister at his heels, shrieking in happiness at the sight
of Tonk in the bushes.

She would remember their laughter as long as she could in the wake of the precious few happy
memories she had from her own childhood. Her niece and nephew deserved protection and they
deserved their childhood.
Protecting that was as important as winning a great battle, and the victory of it would be greater
than the greatest military conquest.

She was walking on harsh sand and glass. Melted sand glowed red and sent up a cloud of hissing
steam as the ocean's waves hit the shore. There were great dark furrows in the dunes farther up the
beach—claw marks and a violent impression of a giant snake-like body. From behind her, Azula
heard a long rumbling growl. She knew what it was without turning.

Azula jerked awake with a cry in the utter still of gray of pre-morning. She stared at Kota, who
stood in the doorway of her bedroom watching her with wide eyes.

Tonk lay at the end of the bed, licking Azula's toes with relish. The cat purred with her eyes closed
as her rough tongue rasped along Azula's skin.

"Princess?" Kota asked tentatively.

Something about her voice and the way she said it struck a memory.

Azula pulled away from the clawed grip her cat had on her foot and sat up, hovering in the oddness
of the dream that had slipped so easily from her memory. It left her disoriented, grasping at the
details for the day ahead. Katara wasn't in bed with her. Where had she heard Kota address her in
just that way?

Tonk clambered into her lap, trilling in apparent happiness that Azula was awake. As she stroked
the bearded cat's neck, she remembered she was going to the South Pole.

"Princess?"

Azula focused on her servant. Kota's honest face was the same today as the day before, but Azula
was still caught by déjà vu. Then the memory clicked. She finally placed this face in a much
different situation. She was incredulous. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse from sleep. "The
cherry pit."

Kota blanched and gasped, confirmation that Azula's memory had rung true.

Azula wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. She was so stunned she actually gaped. She was shocked
in part by the truth and in part that she hadn't realized it before now. "That was you?"

Kota bowed and waited, silent. Was she frightened after all these years?

"And you volunteered to come back to serve me after the war?"

Kota's voice was quiet but firm. "Princess, when I came of age, I was appointed to serve in your
household. I've been on your serving staff since you were a child. You had never acted that way
before. I knew it wasn't you."

"You mean I never threatened to murder and then banished a servant for not being able to sense a
cherry pit?" Azula asked sardonically. Her voice evened with each word she spoke.

Kota lifted her head and looked into Azula's eyes. "You were never cruel."

Azula was fairly certain any and all preteen princesses were cruel to their servants. No doubt it was
not so cut and dry as that anyway. When Azula had returned to the palace after the end of the war,
Kota had taken a gamble and that gamble had paid off. And here they both were. Azula was
certainly glad for it. Kota was exceptional at her post.

"Technically, I never did un-banish you," she said with a smirk. Kota's shoulders relaxed. She
waved her hand. "Well, you're un-banished. For Agni's sake, stop bowing. I'm not going to dismiss
you for being the victim of my circumstance a dozen years ago. No wonder you never serve me
cherries." Azula stretched her back and regarded Kota's rounded belly dubiously. "Take my words
as concern over your pregnancy, not an excuse to dismiss you: perhaps a junior should serve me
this morning."

Kota spoke firmly. "I would rather do it myself."

It was an uncharacteristic statement. Well, who was Azula to command her servant not to serve?
She did warn, "If you go into labor, I expect you to walk yourself out of the bathing chamber and
have that baby well out of my sight and hearing."

Kota couldn't quite suppress her smile. "I'm due in a month, Princess."

"A month too late," Azula muttered.

They continued their usual morning routine, albeit in more rush than usual. After Azula was bathed
and dressed, her servants saw her off with formal bows and well wishes for her and well wishes for
their Lady Katara. Kota waddled with Azula through the palace to the waiting carriage and loitered
there in obvious want to see her off at the docks. Azula heaved an exasperated sigh and motioned
for Kota to join her.

Captain Tao sat within the carriage. She hadn't made time to speak with him the day before, and
now he had a predictable request that Azula immediately declined. She told him, "No guards. I
doubt very highly that assassins will be hiding in ice and snow."

"It would be better—"

"No," she commanded. She respected that he didn't automatically take all her words as iron law,
but sometimes Tao didn't know when she'd given an ultimatum. "Give my guards a paid vacation. I
don't want to see them again until I sail back into this bay. If I do, you're all fired."

He wiped the frown off of his face and folded his hands in his sleeves. He understood her certain
order clearly this time. "As you wish, Princess."

When they rolled up to the bay, she waited for Fung Tao to carefully lift Kota down from the
carriage. She had a last minute piece of information she'd forgotten to address. Azula looked at her
bodyservant with new appreciation as she said, "If you happen to have need of the royal physician
while I'm gone, he knows he's to serve you. Don't hesitate. Now go to your husband and family,
and don't come back until you're ready. I won't replace you."

Kota looked like she might cry. "Princess, it's my greatest pleasure to serve you."

Azula didn't scold her servant for the last bow she gave. It was a familiar gesture, and Azula knew
she would be plunged into the unfamiliar in coming days.
 Be careful what you wish for

The journey felt impossibly long despite being a four day trip. Azula's eagerness to see Katara
warred with her vague worries about what her reception would be. The only reprieve Azula took
was Iroh's company, and she was able to monopolize his time because Ursa remained in a drugged
stupor to ward off her seasickness. It was contradictory to Azula that someone from a land that
touted the strongest navy in the world could be seasick.

She and Iroh wandered above decks and below, played cards, and Azula suffered his digs through a
Pai Sho game. He coaxed her to sing every day, and they were both pleased that her voice
remained strong despite the break she'd taken during her trip for the rice operation.

Azula maintained that music was highly overrated by the teachers at the Royal Academy, but she'd
gained a new personal appreciation for it. Singing was the only thing that had expanded her vocal
range and erased most of the hoarseness that was a result of her injury. She would never have the
same smooth voice, but she didn't croak out her words anymore. Iroh had sat with her every day
with his pipa and turned what was a painful, slowly-progressing chore into something enjoyable,
especially when they'd progressed to songs. Iroh knew every ribald song ever sung by a Fire
Nation soldier, far more than Azula had ever been exposed to. Soldiers weren't particularly creative
with their rhyming words: cock, rock, balls, tall, et cetera, but they managed to string the same tired
words into very interesting songs.

Iroh and Azula now played an old favorite: 'The Earthbender Cock'. During the first verse, they
were interrupted by an unhappy groan.

"Oh, please stop! Every time you play that you completely ruin that old children's song."

Iroh settled his pipa into his lap. They both watched Ursa stagger out of the neighboring room. She
was pale in a mossy way, and Iroh looked up at her in worry. "Ursa, you need to take your
medicine."

"I've been asleep for four days from taking my medicine. It makes me loopy." Ursa groaned as she
sat down and leaned against his shoulder. "Why did I agree to this?"

"We could have ordered an airship," Azula said with some glee. That earned a gentle glare from
Iroh. Ursa just turned a little greener. Azula continued on the earlier topic, "Isn't music a key part
of a young woman's education?"

"Apparently it was never a key part of yours." Ursa smiled tiredly. "I'm happy you can sing again,
but I wish you would choose songs more appropriate for company. Not that I'm surprised. When
you want to fail at something, you fail miserably."

"But of course. What's the point of failing without it being a catastrophic failure?"

Ursa turned to Iroh and poked him in the chest. "Your daughter is infuriating."

"She didn't get it from me," Iroh said innocently. Ursa finally noticed the cold lunch spread across
the table in the corner and lurched to her feet. She staggered to the cabin's adjoining room, but even
with that separation the sound of retching was unpleasant. Iroh heaved a sigh and motioned Azula
out.

In her neighboring cabin, Azula pulled on warm clothes and made her way through the narrow
halls onto the deck, once again startled by how strange their surroundings were. She'd seen
sketches and paintings and read firsthand accounts. Nothing prepared her for the vast brilliancy of
white and blue. And the cold. And the water. It was even more than the open seas: water was in
the sky, the sea, and it covered the land.

How could Katara ever bring herself to leave this place?

The change in scenery hadn't been gradual. After they'd steamed past the southwestern edges of
what had been the Air Nomad's territory a century ago, they'd pushed into dark, open seas. The ice
came almost all at once the day before: small patches on the ocean and great icebergs that the
steamer was careful to avoid.

There had been a whale too. Like everything Azula had seen so far, it was massive, beautiful, and
alien. It was nearly the length of their steamer, long and gray. There were dolphins that lived in the
Fire Nation seas, but nothing as large as that whale. It had swum alongside the ship almost
curiously before it turned 'round and continued on to wherever it was going. It was too big and too
far west to be the kind that Katara's people hunted.

Now Azula studied a great slab of ice that floated several hundred meters off their starboard side.
She'd never realized ice could be so many colors; it was a far cry from the ice that graced her cool
drinks in the Fire Nation. The iceberg was white, deep blue, and foamy green. It, like most
everything she'd seen in the last day, was enormous; the bit she saw above water was nothing close
to its entire mass.

It was all so clean on her eyes.

Iroh stepped up to the rail beside her. Like Azula, he'd traded cool silks for fur-lined leather, but as
a talented firebender he could heatbend to keep himself warm. He asked her, "You didn't expect it
to be this beautiful, did you?"

"Who could have expected this?" Her words condensed in a cloud of white. The air was both dry
and impossibly cold. It was sharp down her throat and in her lungs, but she didn't feel badly
affected. It took some getting used to. What bothered her more was the indignity of a runny nose.

They stood side by side on deck in the freezing air and watched the ship gradually pass a high
jutting lip of land and ice that thrust up in the vague approximation of a spade. The glacial ice had
a peculiar pattern of blue and white striations. The bank around the particular wall of ice had been
sketched more than once as the appropriate entry point for a ship to pass into the large bay where
the Southern Water Tribe was nestled. After almost four days at sea, they were within reach of
Katara's home.

Azula's throat was tight, but she knew it had more to do with emotion than the cold air.

Snow began to fall from the gray sky. She looked upward in surprise and held out her hand. Small
specks of icy snow settled into her hand and stuck to the material of her glove. It fell in cold flecks
against her cheeks and immediately melted. Azula had read about snow, and she'd assumed it
would be closer to the hail some thunderstorms dropped on Capital City.

Iroh began to laugh, most likely at her.

She stood at the railing and watched even after Iroh left her to check on Ursa again. Azula saw the
smoke before she could make out the tiny village that comprised the Southern Water Tribe. The
settlement sat perhaps five hundred meters off of the dark bay waters on ice and snow. It was
smaller and poorer than Azula had imagined. As they drew closer, she saw many of buildings were
made of ice, and there were almost as many tents as igloos. At most, there were thirty hovels.
Figures clad in blue fur-lined parkas stood on the ice close to the bay, watching the Fire Nation
ship steam into view.

It took almost half an hour for the sailors and a few members of the Southern Water Tribe on the
shore to carefully guide the steamer alongside the tall ice and anchor the ship firmly there. In that
time, Ursa and Iroh emerged into the cold air. Ursa was pale, but she's lost the mossy hint of her
skin. By her dopey smile, she'd taken another dose of antiemetic medication. Ursa smiled happily
and took Azula's hand to give it a squeeze. She gasped, "Oh, it's pretty! And cold."

Only Azula's mother would be medicated out of her mind right before she would meet Katara's
people.

When the plank finally dropped, Azula was the first person to step off of the ship onto the icy
snow that served as land here. It crunched and squeaked beneath her boots in a way that made her
want to grind her teeth. She'd never imagined that. She'd have to get used to it quickly. Azula
entertained the humorous thought of bringing a royal palanquin just to save herself the sensation.

Azula looked for Katara among the group of parka-clad people chatting with the sailors that had
disembarked after her. The Water Tribe members talked with the sailors as if they knew them.
Likely they did. Azula paid this ship and its crew to make the trip every few months to the South
Pole with supplies they could trade for Southern Water Tribe goods. Captain Lee would have
hemorrhaged money from these trips, but Azula made up the difference.

A few of the Southern Water Tribe people were watching her openly, but there was no hostility,
only curiosity. Katara wasn't among them. It wasn't a great surprise, but it was still a
disappointment. Katara probably didn't have time to watch the ship that customarily steamed into
the South Pole every month or two. She wouldn't know that Azula was on this ship; all of Azula's
letters came on the same ship she did.

Azula wondered vaguely if any of these people looked at her and still saw their enemy. Maybe
they didn't realize who she was; she had made it a point to tell the sailor attending her during the
trip to forgo her topknot.

The person that approached her from the crowd of curious villagers was not the one Azula so
wished to see. Azula could guess who this dignified old woman must be: Kanna, who had raised
Katara and Sokka. She hadn't given much thought to how she would greet Katara's family, but
Azula knew she needed to make a good impression especially with this woman—not as the
Princess of the Fire Nation, but as her granddaughter's lover.

She put her fist against her open palm and gave a full formal bow to Katara's grandmother. As
royalty, it was the highest honor that she could pay to another person. She signified Kanna was her
equal and deserved Azula's respect. If she'd been any less of station than she was, she would have
placed her fist below her palm, but doing that as royalty would turn this gesture into a sarcastic
insult.

Behind her, Ursa gave an audible gasp. It was the first time she'd seen Azula bow to anyone. In
fact, it was the first time Azula had bowed since Iroh had visited her in prison.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kanna. I'm Azula." Her name sounded so empty without her title.

The wrinkles of Kanna's lined face deepened with her smile. "Save the formalities for my son."
The old woman stepped right up to Azula, wrapped her arms around Azula's neck, and drew her
down into a close hug. Azula's face was mashed into the thick, soft fur of Kanna's hood. "You're
exactly as Katara described. It's about time you've come."
Was this was a good or a bad start? Kanna continued, "And call me Gran Gran."

Azula wasn't sure she would be able to force the words from her lips. Kanna laughed gently in
reply to the look on Azula's face and stepped back to pat her cheek with a cold touch of mitten.
That was an overly familiar gesture that she was powerless to protest. Kanna turned to Iroh and
Ursa, who were both looking at Azula with unnerving surprise.

She remembered herself to say, "May I present my mother and father, Ursa and Iroh. This is Kanna,
Katara's paternal grandmother."

Kanna pressed their hands. She motioned. "My husband has spoken of you, Iroh. And my
granddaughter has spoken of you, Ursa. Welcome to the South Pole. Come."

Kanna had a no-nonsense way about her that Azula appreciated, but it made her hard to judge.
Azula couldn't tell from the strange meeting if she'd made a good or bad impression, and that made
her uneasy.

As they followed Kanna into the quiet village, most of the tribe stayed on the ice where they
helped unload supplies from the steamer. Shouts and laughter broke out among the sailors and
villagers, and Azula was glad that the steamer was well received.

They walked through a wide gap in the tall ice-wall that ringed the village. The wall had the marks
of a waterbender construction: it was straight, sat at a uniform width and height, and was perfectly
round except for a few out-pouches that might have been crafted to allow another dwelling to sit in
its perimeter. The huts of the village were impossibly small. There weren't any official streets, but
the snow on the ground was well packed from constant foot traffic.

It was all very clean, despite the certain poverty of the small settlement.

They passed a group of parka-clad children sitting in a ring around a young woman who seemed to
be conducting a lesson. Most of the children turned to stare curiously. There were a dozen of them,
and most looked younger than ten years old. A few of them smiled and waved in the unassuming
way of children.

Kanna led them into a small building—a round igloo?—at the inland perimeter of the ice wall.
When Azula stooped to enter, she knew at once it was Katara's dwelling. It was filled with her
scent and gave Azula a sharp burst of longing and comfort.

Though the outside had been made of ice, its interior was constructed mainly of wood and was
lined with various animal pelts. It was noticeably warmer than the exterior, but their breaths still
condensed in the air. Hanging securely from the low ceiling was a lit Fire Nation oil lamp that
brightened the hut when Kanna raised the wick.

The hut was tiny…tinier than Azula's smallest room in the Royal Palace of the Fire Nation. The
four of them barely fit inside. Though it was small, it was undoubtedly a home. Azula would never
have guessed all the aspects of a functional home could fit in one room, but Katara seemed to
manage.

Small bits and pieces displayed the tastes and joys of its owner. A comb made of what Azula
guessed was bone sat on a closed chest by the rounded wall. A half-finished beaded braid of
leather lay beside the comb. A few old tea tins littered the storage containers tucked into the edges
of the hut, and a card from Zuko's wedding had been clipped onto a pelt on the wall. There was
even a little water painting of their bearded cat, Tonk, hanging on one of the curved support beams.
Azula had painted it herself years ago while she was being useless on Ember Island. She would
have taken more care with it had she known Katara would display it here.

Kanna bent to stir the warm coals in the pit in the center of the hut. Azula's breath caught at the
sight of the Fire Nation teapot that Kanna set in the fire pit. It was one that had gone missing from
the Ember Island estate years ago. She would enjoy ribbing Katara about that particular thievery.

Her eyes caught another glimpse of Fire Nation. A curl of crimson silk was tangled in the pile of
furs and blankets haphazardly shoved into the shallow edge of the hut. She knew what it was
immediately: her own sleeping robe, lost a few months ago in the chaos that always surrounded
Katara leaving her household. Katara had taken it on purpose. She kept it in her bed.

Azula's eyes stung, and she felt a wave of longing so great she nearly had to leave the confines of
the hut. Another assurance that there was no other lover here. There was no reason for her worries
that Katara meant to leave her.

Kanna saw where she was looking; her voice held mild reproach. "She's missed you."

Azula couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. She cleared it and nodded in acknowledgement.
Ursa reached out to pat her hand.

"Forgive me for not hosting you in my hut," the old woman said quietly as they waited for the tea
to steep. "It's a bit larger than Katara's. My husband is ill, and I'm afraid strangers would upset
him."

"My condolences." Azula cleared her throat to erase the thickness that remained in her voice and
didn't quite manage. "Katara told me of Master Pakku's illness. A royal physician came with me. I
know firsthand that Katara is the best there is, but perhaps he can offer a new perspective."

Kanna's eyes went watery. Her smile was tight. "Thank you, Azula. That's very kind of you. Katara
has spoken highly on your doctors." In the silence that followed, she busied herself with pouring
them tea. It was weak and bitter, but it was warm. Ursa and Iroh both winced but didn't remark.
Azula's teacup had a chip along one edge. She'd never drunk from a broken cup before. It served its
purpose.

"If I may, Kanna, I would like to speak with Pakku," Iroh said.

Kanna nodded slowly. "Tonight, perhaps. He does better in the evenings. I'll let you know." She
regarded her tea for a moment and then gathered a smile. "We didn't expect the trade ship so soon.
Katara and my son are out on the whaling kayak. They caught sight of a whale this morning.
Perhaps your coming has turned our luck. Perhaps it's the Uma's new baby. Babies are always
good fortune."

Azula hoped Kanna's words were given at face-value. She didn't need any more pressure about that
particular impossibility. Ursa sensed she had an ally. "I keep telling Azula that she and Katara need
to think about settling down and having children. They're both at that age." She sniffed in high
dignity. "My daughter thinks children are inconvenient."

It was one thing for her mother to think she was completely opposed; it was another for Kanna to
get the wrong idea. There was no doubt in her mind that family was integral to this woman. For the
first time, Azula defended, "It's the getting of the child that's the inconvenience."

"Is that so?" Kanna cocked her head and studied Azula intently. That long look spooked Azula. She
jumped when someone knocked heavily on the wooden support of the door. "A whale!" that person
said and was gone.
Kanna smiled deeply; her shoulders shifted in relief. "That was quick for a whale hunt; they must
have been blessed on the kayak. Come, it's bad luck to miss the whale haul."

They ducked out of Katara's hut after Kanna cleaned up their tea and lowered the wick on the oil
lamp. The village wasn't deserted anymore. People of all ages were ducking into and out of their
homes to retrieve various deadly looking tools. They rushed, jogging in and out of the village. A
young man accidentally clipped Azula's elbow with his hand, and he shouted a quick apology over
his shoulder. Her eyes followed him in surprise. It hadn't been a rude gesture, and…she certainly
wasn't his Royal Princess. After only a few moments of chaos, everyone seemed to be back out on
the bay ice.

Why was she standing here like an idiot? The whale had brought Katara. Azula hastened to follow.
Her step was hurried and her stride was long. In her rush she'd left the others behind. Azula
stopped to look over her shoulder at her parents and Kanna, who were slowly walking behind her.
Kanna smiled and shooed her with both hands.

There was no dignity worth taking her time; Azula strode past the ice wall and onto the packed
snow and ice of the South Pole shore. Despite her singular purpose, she had to pause to take in the
scene before her.

On its side at the edge of the ice was a kayak made of pale leather and wood— umak in the old
tongue—probably made the same way for centuries. It was perhaps ten meters in length. It had no
sail because it was propelled by paddles or waterbending. This kayak had been abandoned in the
face of the whale haul.

All the villagers who had been rushing so much before now stood and waited, and Azula looked to
what had taken their attention.

Floating in the bay was a huge dark body. Four waterbenders—two of which were clearly children
—stood at the edge of the ice and moved in graceful synchrony, lifting and sweeping their arms as
they pivoted their hips. They commanded a rolling wave, and the whale was borne onto the ice. It
was enormous and ungainly and very beautiful.

Azula had seen a few paintings and sketches, each with its own representation of a whale. This one
had a wide horizontal pelvic fin—flukes, taxonomists called it—and its dorsal fin didn't seem to
exist at all from her angle. The flippers that jutted from its belly were blunted and short compared
to its length. Unlike the whale that she'd seen on the journey here, this one was nearly black.

Its great blunt head seemed almost entirely lower jaw, and the rostral tip of that jaw was paler than
the darkness of the rest of its hide. In the open curve of its mouth she saw long, stiff bristles instead
of teeth. It was baleen, the same material that men in other nations called whalebone. Noblewomen
of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom paid a fortune to carry parasols fashioned from it. One
elitist bicycle company used whalebone for the spokes of its wheels. Worldwide, archers coveted
rarely made expensive whalebone reinforced bows. What would Katara's people use it for?

The villagers shouted and laughed as they watched the whale settle on the ice, and the smallest
children sang a coordinated song about a whale as they ran between the adults. Just knowing they
had this resource seemed to breathe new life into the quiet crowd that had watched the Fire Nation
ship steam into their bay.

Azula finally understood for herself what this meant. A whale. A giant creature, full of meat and fat
and sinew and bone. They could build a house out of its skeleton and eat on its flesh for months.

The waterbender who had led the dance to bring this whale ashore turned her head towards the Fire
Nation steamship. She moved quickly towards the ship, and Azula knew from her walk that it was
Katara. Azula tried to intercept her path but was too emotional to call out. She broke into a jog,
slipped on a naked patch of ice, and had to slow her stride so she wouldn't break her neck before
she held Katara in her arms again.

Katara had jogged up the ramp onto the ship and hailed a crew member by the time Azula caught
up to her. She heard Katara say, "You're early! Are there letters for me, Lin? Nukkuk said
something about a big package."

"A big stack of letters," the man replied with a grin. "And something else you might like better."

He caught sight of Azula and bowed just as she placed her hand on Katara's shoulder. Katara
turned in question. Her expression shifted into shock. That shock almost immediately melted into a
tearful smile.

"You came!"

Katara threw her arms around Azula, and Azula seized her by the waist, holding her tight. The soft
furs that lined Katara's hood tickled Azula's cheek. She nuzzled closer and breathed deeply to take
in Katara's earthy scent. And here, in this alien place, she was home again. Every worry and
negative thought washed away in her relief and pleasure. Azula pulled Katara closer and took
another deep breath.

Katara drew back just enough to pull Azula into a series of small kisses—across her lips, her brow,
her cheeks. She put her covered hands on Azula's cheeks. In between her small kisses, she said,
"Today is a very good day."

"That's an understatement," Azula mumbled back, fighting tears. As joyful as this reunion was, she
knew she couldn't take another long separation. They would figure something out...later, when
Azula could think again.

Now they were grounded enough in each other's presence to fall into a deep kiss that was
completely inappropriate for the public. Azula didn't give a damn. She relearned the taste and
texture and shape of Katara's mouth, and Katara gasped. When she pulled away, Katara made a
noise like it hurt her. "I've got to help with the whale." After another long kiss, her eyes remained
on Azula's lips. "And then…"

"I can help." Azula offered a smile. "I've butchered a stoat hare before."

That silly statement triggered laughter. Katara looked exhausted now that Azula could study her
face. No wonder, if things were as stressful as they'd seemed in her letter. Azula wanted to ease her
burden in any way she could, even if it was only with a smile.

"I'm sure you can—because a stoat hare is so similar to a whale. But your valuable help isn't going
to get me into bed any faster." Katara took Azula's gloved hand as they walked down the grated
metal plank back onto the ice. "You need better clothes."

"It is chilly down here." Azula's ears and nose had already gone numb in the cold. She hoped this
place wasn't commonly windy or those important appendages might break off before they returned
to the Fire Nation. Being a princess without ears would be undignified.

"How did you figure that one out?"

Azula seized Katara by the waist and pulled her back to steal a kiss. Katara beat at her with her big,
soft mittens and laughed. Azula got one last kiss for her efforts, and then she let Katara go. It was
easier knowing they would sleep in the same bed tonight. It was easier just knowing they were on
the same continent again. A weight lifted from Azula's shoulders, and she could finally appreciate
what an opportunity this trip could be.

After Azula watched Katara walk back towards the baleen whale, she looked for a better vantage
point to no avail. The ice was uniformly flat. She wanted to observe the beginning of the whale
butchering and catalogue all the different jobs shared by the villagers. Azula itched to participate in
what seemed a unique experience.

Several men and women had climbed onto the curve of the whale's body with pike-like knives.
Some adults were sharpening smaller knives; others were waiting with hooks attached to rope.
Even the children seemed to have a task, dispersing tools or waiting by an adult.

Iroh, Ursa, and Kanna stood conversing across the whale. Ursa saw her watching them and smiled
—clearly still feeling the effects of her antiemetic—before her attention turned back to Katara's
grandmother. Azula wondered what they were talking about. A man in a dark parka approached
them, spoke with Kanna briefly, and turned towards Azula. His sharp eyes met hers across the ice;
he began to walk towards her with a thunderous scowl. She could take a gander at who he was.

Katara was in conference with a few women standing near the whale's head. She drew Azula's
attention with her smile; Azula was powerless to do anything but return that smile. In that moment,
every one of the women looked over at Azula and also smiled. It was eerie, despite the kind
expressions. Katara turned from them and walked towards her almost sheepishly.

Surely they couldn't protest Azula's presence, not after those smiles. "What is it?"

"I've been banished for a few hours," Katara said. Her cheeks were pink but by her tone it wasn't
from the cold. "To rest."

Azula glanced over at the group of giggling women. She looked back at Katara; her grin slowly
spread. She liked these people. "Am I right to assume 'resting' is a euphemism for something much
more strenuous and enjoyable?"

Katara's face flushed further; she smiled almost shyly. She seized Azula's hand to drag her into the
village. Across the ice, the man—surely it was the infamous disapproving Hakoda—saw this and
stopped his approach. A reprieve. Azula would much rather 'rest' with Katara than brave his
doubtless inane protests.

Katara nearly yanked her arm off in her hurry to get them back to the village. Azula squeezed
Katara's hand to slow her as they rapidly approached the ice wall. She was eager too, but she wasn't
as steady on the ice and snow as Katara.

"Your grandmother served us tea in your hut."

Katara glanced over her shoulder. "So you've seen my hut?"

"I noticed the tea set she served it on," Azula continued haughtily.

"It's a really sturdy set." Katara didn't even sound contrite. She waved at a young woman who was
jogging out of the village. The girl looked at Azula in undisguised curiosity. Azula offered what
she hoped was a polite smile, and the girl began to giggle. Azula had assumed these people would
hate her, but apparently she was closer to a comic relief than an evil Fire Nation Princess. Maybe
her ears had already broken off and she'd just failed to notice.

When they arrived in front of Katara's hut, Azula said, "And I noticed my missing robe."
"It smelled like you for a little while." Katara looked up at Azula framed in the low doorway to her
hut. There was no teasing in Katara's reply, only quiet want. That desire was plain on her face, and
Azula was powerless under that gaze. She swallowed and followed quickly. She didn't want to
waste a single minute.

Their clothes scattered haphazardly across the hut. Azula had to rescue one of her gloves from the
fire pit when it started to smoke. A stack of poles in the corner clattered to the floor, caught up in
Katara's heavy parka jacket. It was a wonder they didn't knock down the lamp and set the whole
hut on fire. They laughed at their rush and continued undressing at a less dangerous pace.

There was something heady about sliding into Katara's bedroll. It was little more than a pile of
furs, but the pelts were soft and smelled of Katara: her musk, her skin, and her sweat. After they
strained together in their first frantic joining, Katara rolled on top of Azula with a triumphant smile.
"I won't need a robe to smell you anymore. I've dreamed of fucking you here, in my hut, in my furs
for years."

Azula opened her legs in surrender. She loved it when Katara talked about 'fucking' her. "Who am
I to stand in the way of your dreams?"

The statement earned a gentle slap to the forehead and a giggle. And then Katara bent her head and
set to her task with hunger. She was gentle, but she refused to stop until Azula couldn't stand the
stimulation any longer. Then triumphant from the pleasure she'd just given, Katara rocked against
Azula's thigh to find her own release.

Azula watched with one pale hand on the beautiful brown curve of Katara's breast and the other on
her hip. She reveled in the flex of muscles beneath Katara's skin and Katara's wet silky heat against
her leg. Katara's hair tumbled wildly over her shoulders. Her only modesty was her necklace. Her
mouth curved in a triumphant smile, and her eyes were so bright blue, staring unabashedly into
Azula's eyes. Like this, when Katara took her own pleasure so fiercely, she was a queen. She
owned Azula, and she knew it. She could own the entire world if they could see her like this.

Despite her exhaustion, Azula reached between her own legs. Katara moaned as she watched, and
then her eyes turned back to Azula's. Her next words were a command: "Make yourself come,
baby." It didn't take much to obey, and Katara gasped and trembled in orgasm with her.

They sagged against each other, exhausted and happy. The hut was much cooler than Azula was
used to, especially on her sweaty skin, but she was warmed on one side by the certain presence of
the smoldering coals in the fire pit. Katara snuggled comfortably against her other side.

She'd needed this so much: holding Katara in her arms again. Azula would enjoy this until Katara
returned to help with the whale. And she would be able to hold Katara like this tonight and the next
night and the next.

"Let me see your neck."

It wasn't an unexpected demand, as much as Azula didn't care for Katara falling into this role while
they were in bed.

"You saw it earlier. Your mouth left a bruising reminder on it already." Despite her teasing, Azula
leaned her head back in compliance. Katara traced her fingers over the scar just below Azula's
larynx. She wasn't gentle; it was the healer in her. Katara probed with stiff fingers, prompting
Azula to cough in reflex. "Again," Katara demanded. Azula produced another dry cough.

Katara massaged the muscle that sat alongside Azula's spine to palpate the exit scar. Her fingers
pushed deep as they probed, and Azula rotated her neck before Katara could request it. Her consort
made a soft noise of approval. Finally, Katara cupped her hands over Azula's neck and
concentrated as her eyes focused elsewhere. What she felt seemed to put her at ease.

She went through a similar process when she felt for the scar along Azula's right rib cage. She was
gentler there, but her fingers still caused Azula to jerk in ticklishness. Katara settled back against
Azula's shoulder and asked, "Any pain?"

"Sometimes with exertion. Usually only when I'm expecting it," Azula admitted. "So it's likely
mental."

"Don't ignore your body's limits." That was a mild rebuke coming from Katara. Her thumb now
gently rubbed the scar below Azula's right breast. "Are you taking your pain medicine?"

"Only at night if I need it."

Katara sighed, pointedly silent about her often voiced opinion that Azula chose to medicate herself
too rarely. Azula could recite by heart her argument: the opiate extract was specific for the
antitussive effects and had little remainder of the addictive qualities of the drug Earth Kingdom
nobles like to smoke. Azula's reply would be that she'd rather not need it at all.

Azula didn't want to talk about her health. Katara was her consort, not her healer. "Tell me about
the hunt."

"Which hunt?"

"Any whale hunt. How do you kill an animal that large?" Katara didn't often speak of the customs
specific to her home. Azula planned to fill in all the gaps in her knowledge during this trip. She was
a jealous lover. She coveted every bit of knowledge about Katara she didn't know, and she hadn't
realized just how ignorant she was.

Katara was silent for a beat. "The only time I threw the spear was when Pakku was still well
enough to guide the kayak. We paddled for hours, tracking each time the whale came up to breathe.
It was so exciting, the anticipation of it. I was the hunter, and I was going to make a kill, a good
kill, for our tribe.

"I stood at the bow of the kayak and had the spear up. The whale came up right beside the kayak. I
looked into its eye. All that thrill washed right out of me. When it looked at me, I knew it was
giving itself to me; I wasn't taking it. That's why throwing the spear is such a privilege. It isn't
about landing the whale; it's about making the death an easy one." She shook her head. "I'll never
forget that moment."

"Will you throw the spear again?"

Katara shook her head again. "It made me too sad. I like guiding the boat better. I'm still a part of
it, but it's easier. They need me more at the back of the boat anyway, at least until we get another
Master Waterbender."

Such a gentle woman, even as fierce as she could be with her loyalties and her temper. Azula
stroked her back, kissed her hair, and asked, "Why isn't there another trained waterbender living
here?"

Katara shifted her face in a moue against Azula's skin. "It's a weird situation. I was the only
waterbender from the South Pole during the war. There was one really promising boy, but his
parents sent him to the North Pole to train with the masters there full time. He's probably not
coming back." Katara's tone suggested it was an old wound.

"Does the Northern Water Tribe not send you pupils?"

"Part of that's my fault. I get a letter every few years from someone who wants to move here so I
can train them…"

"And you decline?" Azula was surprised to hear that.

Katara's voice had taken an oddly defensive tone. "It's not fair to them. I have so much work here. I
don't have enough time to be a full time teacher, and I know I'll leave at least twice a year for the
Fire Nation. And the South Pole is such a small place compared to the North Pole. Really small.
Pakku didn't mind because Gran Gran's here, but Noakka's been homesick…" Katara's voice
trailed off. Her voice went thick. "He was homesick since he came with Pakku."

"I'm sorry you lost him like that."

Katara sighed. "So am I. He could make me so mad, but he was a good man."

"Why haven't you requested aid from the North Pole before this?"

The defensive tone was back. "It's so different here. They can't just be a teacher or a healer. They
have to be a teacher, healer, hunter, gatherer, crafter, and midwife. And a new person means a new
mouth to feed and a new hut to put up and a new pocket in the ice wall. It didn't seem worth the
effort so long as Noakka was here."

Azula read between the lines and drew her own conclusion: Katara liked to take the burdens of the
world on her shoulders. She wanted the best for her people, and no one would ever measure up to
that. "And you have trust issues," Azula said gently.

Katara sat up; her face had hardened in defensiveness. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hoping to ward off anger, Azula touched Katara's cheek and met her eyes in a long look. Clearly
Katara already knew for herself, but she didn't want to admit it. Katara looked at Azula now, and
her anger shifted into sheepish admission. Her lips pursed and her shoulders drooped. When she
settled back on Azula's shoulder, she traced a finger across Azula's collarbone.

After a moment, Katara admitted, "You're right. I probably created this situation. I just didn't want
to have to take the time to assimilate another waterbender here just for them to leave in a few
months because they couldn't handle the work. Nema, she's my best waterbender student, can do
small tasks, but she hasn't picked up healing. She is ready to steer the kayak for a whale hunt. I
want to make sure we get two, but I've got to step back and let her steer the last one herself. I just
worry… It's so hard to let go."

Azula looked up at the arched wooden frame of the low ceiling. She took a long breath and drew
her lover closer. Unexpectedly, Katara sat up and placed her hands on Azula's chest. "Again," she
said quietly, her eyes wide but her face frozen in concentration.

Azula took a big, clear breath. Katara looked at her with tears in her eyes; she was smiling now. "I
was so scared for you. But you've completely recovered."

Azula was willing to accept this diversion. "Because of you."

Scar tissue should have permanently limited her recovery. Ling, the royal physician, was still
boggled by the fact that Katara had managed to ward off so much natural fibrosis and scarring in
her lungs and her larynx. While Katara's waterbending healing couldn't address the deep infection
that had plagued Azula's lungs for months, she had healed the physical damage remarkably. It had
just been up to Azula to recondition her body, and she was happy that the steps she'd taken made
Katara happy.

"It was so hard. Healing you hurt you, but I had to do it."

"I never blamed you."

"I know," Katara said quietly.

Azula knew that tone of voice well, and she didn't like it. She sat up and framed Katara's face in
her hands and spoke the first sentences she'd managed to string together after she'd regained her
voice. "You didn't shoot those arrows. Those arrows weren't meant for you. And you couldn't have
stopped them. No guilt."

Katara looked her in the eye and nodded firmly. "No guilt," she echoed soberly. It had taken years,
but she finally meant it. They settled back down into the furs. After a few minutes of quiet, Azula
said, "You're tired."

"Very," Katara admitted quietly. "I'm so glad you're here. So glad."

"I am too; I've missed you." Missed her so much despite how busy she'd been. Azula thought of the
letter that had started her journey. "I brought Ling's assistant. And supplies. Food, medicine,
building materials."

Katara stiffened, always so proud. "You didn't have to do that."

"Katara," she chided.

Katara met Azula's eyes. Her defensiveness slipped away. She relaxed and leaned up to kiss Azula.
"I meant… Thank you. I love you, whether you're here or not and whether or not you bring help.
We would have made it…but it'll be easier now."

It was a truce, one that had probably stung Katara's considerable pride. Azula offered a smile and a
diversion. "I brought my parents too. They brought themselves, actually. My mother has been
alternating a drugged stupor and violent vomiting for four days. I haven't a clue why she braved the
high seas to come."

"They're here?! Why didn't you say something? I should have greeted them."

Katara's face had flushed, and Azula guessed the source of her embarrassment. "I'm fairly certain
they know we have sex."

"Oh no… Don't say that!" Katara groaned at the thought.

Azula smirked at Katara's modesty. She chose not to voice the thought that probably every adult on
the continent knew that was what they'd been doing in this hut. Instead she said, "I'm sure your
grandmother has been keeping them occupied."

"What did you think of Gran Gran?" Katara's chest expanded in Azula's arms; she didn't release her
breath. Her eyes fixed to Azula's, and her face shifted into a hopeful look. Clearly Katara wanted
Azula to like her family as much as Azula hoped they would accept her.

"You take after her," Azula replied. It was the highest compliment she could pay, and it garnered a
soft smile from Katara. There was one matter Azula wasn't sure of. "She won't be upset if I call her
'Kanna', will she?"

"She told you to call her 'Gran Gran', didn't she?"

Azula licked her lips and tried it out. "Gran Gran," she enunciated carefully.

Katara burst into laughter.

"It's not nice to laugh at your consort."

"Doofus. I can't believe someone who says 'fuddy-duddy' can't say 'Gran Gran'." She leaned down
to kiss Azula. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Katara sighed and gave her another long kiss. "I should get up." She sighed against Azula's lips
again. "I'm getting up. Right now." She did sit up and stretch, but she didn't go any further. The
muscles along her back tightened deliciously. Azula couldn't resist brushing aside Katara's hair to
run her palm down the muscles that framed Katara's spine. She was a shapely woman, but she was
well-muscled. Azula loved the contrast.

There was a new small scar on Katara's hip. Azula let her hand slide across Katara's side to trace it
with her finger. "How did this happen?"

Katara caught her fingers and adopted a dismissive tone. "Oh, it's nothing."

"You're lying," Azula challenged. She sensed embarrassment and smirked. Katara pulled a face
and admitted, "I may have hooked myself with a fishing hook."

Azula laughed. Katara smacked her lightly on the head, and Azula kissed the offending hand. "All
this abuse!"

"Would you rather I tickle you?"

Azula raised her hands in surrender. Katara smirked smugly as she got up to collect their clothing
from the edges of the room. She bit her lip and glanced at Azula judgingly. "I made you a parka. In
case you came."

Azula took the heavy bundle that Katara gave her. She separated the pieces carefully, surprised that
Katara had had the time or energy to actually make her clothing. She was further surprised by the
quality of the clothing in her hands.

The mid-calf sealskin boots were soft against her fingers. Azula set them aside and smoothed out
the trousers. Soft white fur lined the inside of them; the outside was blue-dyed leather. The parka
jacket was also dyed blue and lined with white fur, but its hood was lined with a different pelt: the
fur was two-toned and velvety beneath her fingers. The mittens had three fingers: one for her
thumb, one for her first two fingers, and one for her last two. They too were lined with soft fur.

There were also fitted trousers and a tunic made from blue-dyed wool that Azula supposed she
would wear beneath the parka. She fingered the clasps and seams and touched the wool. She'd
always heard wool was itchy and uncomfortable, but this material was soft.

"You made this?" she asked. The seams on the parka were straight and neat, and the leather was
supple beneath her fingers. There was even a colorful braided panel that rounded the bottom length
of the parka jacket.

"Will you wear it?"

She would have walked around the noble district naked if Katara asked her to; she thought Katara
knew that. She was uncertain about the vulnerability she judged in Katara's voice. She responded
with humor. "I'm shocked you would ask me that. I've proven I'll wear anything."

Katara didn't smile.

"You'll have to help me dress," Azula said more seriously.

That coaxed a smile. Katara's relief had a gratefulness about it that made Azula peculiarly
emotional. Katara squeezed her shoulder and said, "I want to do your hair tonight." Katara wound a
lock around her finger. "It's so fine and straight. I used to wish I had hair like yours."

Azula leaned forward, and Katara met her with a long kiss. "We should swap. Then I might
actually be able to tie my hair back."

Katara scoffed. "You would go crazy with my hair."

She gave a lofty sigh of regret. "Then I guess we'll each just have to settle for a woman with the
hair we covet."

"It's almost worth putting up with said woman."

Katara giggled when Azula lunged at her in mock anger, and they laughed together for a moment
in pure happiness.

They managed to get dressed without backtracking. Azula mirrored Katara as she pulled on a fitted
tunic and leggings. Then she stepped into the parka pants and belted them closed. They were
comfortably loose and strapped beneath her foot to keep the cuff inside the fur-lined boots. The
boots cinched across the top of her foot but were loose through the ankle.

Katara showed Azula how to string her mittens across her shoulders and push them through the
parka sleeves. She helped her settle into the parka jacket. Katara folded it closed and cinched it
around Azula's waist with an etched belt that matched the colorful panel on the parka.

These clothes were big and soft and unquestionably warmer than the fitted leather Azula had been
wearing before. The craftsmanship of the parka was even more beautiful now that she was wearing
it. Katara's skills with a leather needle put some royal tailors to shame.

Katara looked her up and down with wide eyes.

"What?" Azula asked.

Katara shook her head and abruptly teared up. Azula reached out to her, and Katara yanked her
close and sniffled against her cheek. Parka to parka within the hut, the heat built to an unbearable
level. Katara drew back with a wet laugh. "Let's get out of here before we cook ourselves."

When Katara pulled Azula outside, she drew the heavy hood up on her new parka. "Breathe into
the ruff of the hood."

"I do like ruffs—yours in particular," Azula said. Katara blushed and made a rude noise in reply.

Azula turned her face and exhaled. The fur around her face seemed to reflect her warm breath, and
she was startled by how incredibly comfortable she was. Even the boots were warm, and they
provided more traction on the snow than she expected.

"This is wonderful," she said without exaggeration.

"I'm glad you like it." Katara's smile was as shy as if she were a teenager again.

Azula took a moment to study Katara. She was used to seeing her consort in fitted silk and linen.
Katara's parka was as big as Azula's, and she could have had any range of body shape beneath it.
Azula appreciated the thought of opening a few pieces of clothing to find the body she knew and
loved beneath the material.

When Azula met Katara's eyes, she was struck. She knew Katara's face better than her own, but
this was a surprise. Here in the ice and snow, Katara's eyes were brighter, her skin was darker, and
her teeth flashed whiter with the gentle smile she'd turned on Azula. She was so complemented by
her surroundings. Katara would always be from the South Pole. Azula had been a fool not to have
come sooner.

"You're beautiful," Azula said.

Katara stepped close for another hug. She took a long breath in Azula's arms and drew back. Azula
was surprised to see she was uneasy. Katara motioned, and they began to walk through the village
back towards the bay and the waiting whale.

"It's generally a terrible idea to spoil a princess," Azula teased, trying to coax the emotion away.

Katara only bit her lip. "There's something I have to tell you." She held out her hand, and Azula
took it. The tone of Katara's voice made her as uneasy as Katara looked.

"What is it?"

"I should have told you earlier...a long time ago. Do you remember when I wrote to you about
Hana?"

Azula sorted through her memory and recalled a few sentences from one of Katara's long letters a
few years ago. "She and her husband died, didn't they?"

"Yes. She—"

A tiny round bundle of blue furs raced through the gap in the ice wall towards them, arms open.
The small face that peeked out of the circle of furs at the top of the bundle was as happy as a child's
face could be. The child shouted, "Mommy!" And the child wrapped its arms around Katara.

"Port, Princess?" Captain Lee was watching her carefully as she hung her parka jacket on the wall
in his cabin. She managed a polite decline despite the hot ball of tension that sat in her throat.
"There's no reason for you to break out your good liquor, Captain."

Captain Lee rubbed his blunt beard and grinned hopefully, showing a golden tooth. He poured her
a small amount in a glass cup. "It's very good. My brother's best vintage."

She was surprised her polite decline was treated as modesty. Maybe she looked like she needed a
drink. Azula clarified more sharply than she'd meant to. "I don't drink."

He schooled his face before his surprise was too blatant. "Forgive me, Princess." He went to the
row of bottles in the back of his cabin. "This is honestly much better than my brother's port. He
made it for my little nephew who was so disappointed he couldn't taste wine with his parents. But I
like it just as much as my little nephew does."

He popped the cork, turned over two drinking glasses, and poured them both the foamy drink.
Azula scented it and smelled nothing but the hint of fruit. She took a sip.

The fizz of the drink was peculiar in her mouth and down her throat. It offset the sweetness of the
fruit juice. She took another sip and confirmed that this was as good as her first taste. She took a
moment to study the bubbles that ascended in her glass. She knew how effervescent wine was
made, but that required fermentation. This wasn't a fermented drink. "How is this made?"

"He calls it 'fruit fizzy', but he won't tell me how they do it. Apparently a family secret doesn't
include the seafaring brother." Lee grinned at her. "My little brother fancies himself an inventor."

"Who is your brother?"

"Riko. He owns Fireplume Vineyards."

"Of Gorget Isles?" It was part of the small arid archipelago off the southwestern edge of Capital
Island, so named because on the map the islands formed a broad-based circle. It was one of the few
places in the Fire Nation that produced good wine grapes.

"Yes, Princess."

"Next time you write him, tell him I want to order a case of this for my brother's children."

Lee didn't hide his delight. He bobbed three quick, deep bows.

"Don't make yourself dizzy."

Azula's words had been cutting, but he responded with: "You have honored my family, Princess."

"I ordered a case of fruit juice," she pointed out sharply. "There are far more important matters that
we need to attend to now."

The man sobered immediately. He cleared the port bottle and untouched glass off of his desk.
Below a strong pane of glass that covered his desk was a map of the four nations. Azula tapped it
with her fingernail. "Show me where the ice flow comes from."

"Begging your pardon, Princess, but the Water Tribe people are better to ask about this."

"I didn't ask them, did I? In fact, I didn't ask you." She turned a baleful look to him, aware she was
allowing her bad mood to influence their conversation.

His smile faded and he nodded with more reserve. "I only know it flows in from the east and
blocks the east side of this great bay." He tapped a finger along the northern lip of ice that was the
South Pole's border. His finger traced along the northeast edge of the continent. "Much of the way
is filled with icebergs during the winter, and it's impossible to navigate without a proficient
waterbender on board because of the full darkness. I've gone that way once as a deckhand, and I
never will again. Ships and whales alike stay away, especially when it flat out freezes solid."

"But not this western edge?"

"A warm water current flows southeast from the western ocean, which keeps the ice from freezing
solid for the most part. You get a few icebergs like we saw from the glacier, but not nearly as
many." His blunt finger traced through western Fire Nation territory and swept southeast. He
tapped the western side of the South Pole. "The whales don't swim from that direction. They loop
between the South Pole and south of the Earth Kingdom."

"All this land, and this is the only settlement on this continent?"

"It's uninhabitable, most of it. The air doesn't get as cold here because of that warm water current
or it'd be as cold as the desert tundra."

Azula had read a bit about the uninhabitable tundra of the South Pole, but there was little
information available in the palace archives. It didn't draw explorers; there were no ancient
treasures or ruins or people to war against to make the risk worthwhile. She wished she had more
information about this land her lover came from.

"Speak to the villagers for an estimate of the supplies that will help them...as much as they will
accept. As much as can be given without insult. Make it known everything on this ship is theirs to
keep and use as they wish."

"Supplies they do need, of course, Princess. But they need hands more than anything. They scraped
together what they could to trade for good wood last season, and we brought it, but it was ruined in
the ice. They couldn't put it up in time. Katara was too busy to—" He paused. "Begging your
pardon, Princess."

"I'm sure Katara doesn't care if you use her name. If she doesn't care, I don't care."

He bowed all the same, probably because she'd been so sharp with her words. "It's a double-edged
sword. They can't get the buildings up fast enough, and there aren't enough waterbenders to make
sure the wood doesn't warp so they have more time. At least, that's the way I understand it. Could
be the wood was bad too; I should have looked into the matter a little more before I filled the
order. They've been chugging along doing what they can to keep afloat this last season."

"How did they survive when they didn't have a waterbender?"

He scratched his head. "They lived in sealskin tents and made small igloos by cutting and stacking
ice by hand."

The ingenuity of it was more than Azula had assumed. They didn't need machinery or steam-
engines or importation or agriculture...or waterbending, apparently. The Fire Nation and Earth
Kingdom peoples thought because they had those things they were superior, but their utter
dependency on those aspects of their society was inferiority in the face of people who lived
successfully and happily without.

"And the whales?"

"They can land whales without waterbending. But it takes more time, and they lose a lot more than
they land that way. Now that they've so many more people living here, they can't afford to lose
that time." He cleared his throat. "This is all secondhand, Princess, so it may be best to speak to
one of the villagers."

There was a distinctive meow, and the ship's fluffy bearded cat leapt onto the desk, plopping down
with a happy blink. The captain frowned and picked it up. He was nervous about her reaction. "I
apologize, Princess. He's a good mouser…keeps us clean of elephant rats, but he has a mind of his
own."
She wanted to be alone. "You're dismissed."

"Of course, Princess." Lee bowed, cat in hand, and was on his way out of the door that opened into
the ship's bowels.

She studied the map on his desk, trying to gather her thoughts despite the turmoil of emotions in
her gut. Azula didn't know how long she stood there as she collected herself. She wasn't sure how
long it would take her to get over this. She reached out absentmindedly to trace the massive inked
circles of Ba Sing Se. Her triumph. Her greatest victory. Because of turtle ducks, as Mai had said.

She slowly drew her finger across the map and caressed the curving isles of the Fire Nation. Her
home, her nation, the place of her most devastating defeat—a defeat she was so grateful for. She
could still remember straining against the chains that Katara had bound her with, screaming her
self-rage out with bursts of blue fire. Azula knew she would never have imagined herself here a
dozen years later.

Her finger stroked south on the map and hovered over the South Pole. And here, a secret part of
her lover's life, probably more important than Azula's part of it.

She was very angry about that.

The door between the deck and the captain's cabin opened in a blast of icy wind. Azula glanced up
from the desk. As if Azula's thoughts had summoned her, Katara stepped inside and closed the
door behind her. Her expression communicated bitter disappointment as she leaned against the
inside of the door and faced Azula. "I should have known."

"And what, exactly, should you have known?" Her question was severe. Azula's temper sharpened
at the audacity of Katara to look at her like that, as if Azula had wronged her.

"Are you just going to sit in here and pout?"

"Tell me something, Katara. How did you think I was going to react?"

"I thought you'd be an adult about it—"

"No," Azula snapped at the blatant lie. "No, you didn't. Because clearly you've hidden this from me
for several years." She wanted to slam her fist into the desk and restrained herself. "Did you
honestly think I was going to make you choose between me and a little girl who calls you her
mother?"

Katara hesitated.

What a bitter disillusionment after such a wonderful afternoon. Azula sat down in the chair and
covered her face with her hand. "Of course you did." She laughed bitterly though tears stung her
eyes. "I suppose I should be relieved. I'd thought you might be having an affair."

"An affair?!" Katara's look was of utmost anger. "I would never cheat on you!"

"Yet you don't trust me. I thought we'd reached a point in our relationship that I didn't have to
worry about that—"

There wasn't anger on Katara's face anymore. Whatever emotion she was struggling with mirrored
Azula's hurt. "I do trust you!"

Azula continued, "What do you think I mean every time I tell you I love you? I love you,
unconditionally."

"It's not that easy! You've never said you wanted a child. I don't want you to be obligated—"

"It's not an obligation!" Azula shouted, and she welcomed the pain it brought to her throat. She
continued on with a hoarse voice. "I love you. I want you to be happy. And any child that you
consider yours is mine as well. That's not obligation. That is my part to play in this relationship, as
your consort or lover or whatever the hell you actually think I am."

Katara stalked to the desk and braced herself on it to face Azula. She searched Azula's eyes
intensely. "How is that fair to her? What am I supposed to do, bring her to the Fire Nation where
you can be her mother for a few months, and then come back here where she can't be with you?
What do you think that would do to her?"

Azula propped her head in her hand wearily. "All you had to do was ask me to come."

"I shouldn't have to ask!"

Azula sighed in exasperated anger. "How else am I to know what you want or need? You, who
never ask anything of me. I had no idea if you actually wanted me to come until you asked. You
haven't exactly been forthcoming with invitations!"

Katara shook her head, and her face tightened in regret. "It's not that easy. I knew you'd come if I
asked, but you have obligations to your country—"

"Those obligations are not more important to me than you and yours," Azula said quietly. She
cleared her throat and reached out to take a swallow of the drink still on the desk. It hurt her throat.

Katara's expression softened. "You hurt yourself."

"I don't need a healer right now, Katara. I need my consort." She regarded Katara for a moment and
realized there had to be some give to her take. Her accusations had been true, but she'd borne her
own part in this divide. "You're right in part. I've avoided asking if you wanted me to come. I was
afraid that your family, your people wouldn't accept me. I didn't want to make you choose."

Katara's anger shifted to shock. "Wouldn't accept you? Why wouldn't they accept you?"

What a useless question. Azula raised an eyebrow and waved her hand wearily. "As you so
eloquently put it, I'm the princess of a nation that suppressed your people for a century."

"I knew I shouldn't have said that," Katara muttered. "Azula, my dad thinks that because he's a
blockheaded jerk who thinks no one's good enough for me. No one else does."

"How can you be so sure?" Azula couldn't fathom how that could possibly be true.

Katara raised her eyebrows with a smile. To Azula's relief, that smile was tender. "Because you're
the reason why we have a trade ship come in every month full of things we need and willing to
accept what we can trade. I know they're not coming here because they're making money. You send
them.

"You also send me back with tea and sweets and fruit, things most of my tribe had never even
tasted before. You, royalty of the Fire Nation, took me as your consort legally; everyone here
thinks I'm hailed as a Fire Nation princess now. And you still let me come back." Katara shook her
head with a gentle smile. "You, the Princess of the Fire Nation, bowed to Gran Gran, the most
respected elder in our tribe."
How did she know? "I did those things for you."

Katara nodded, her eyebrows raised. "Yeah, and they know that. They also know you banned Fire
Nation whale poaching in our waters, and you protected us from an unfair clause in the
international trade pact. That wasn't just for me."

Azula was startled by the two legal statements. They were minor, very minor, fine print clauses
she'd thought to correct when they'd come up in Fire Nation council meetings through the years.
She didn't know how Katara had found out. "How did you learn about that?"

"Zuko writes me too."

Another surprise, one she would have to think about a while before she drew an opinion on it. And
as to the other... Azula felt a vague sense of relief. She wasn't ashamed of who she was or where
she came from, but she was glad it had no negative impact upon Katara. Azula said, "I didn't think
the Southern Water Tribe was interested in politics."

Katara rounded the desk and leaned her hip against it. "We may be small and isolated, and we may
not have an ambassador, but we keep up with what will impact us." She carefully settled into
Azula's lap, hesitant until Azula gave her a slight nod of permission. Katara's voice softened in
regret. "I'm so sorry, Azula. I really should have said something a long time ago. Her parents died a
few months after she was born, and I took care of her as a baby. Before I knew it…"

"She was calling you 'Mommy', and you loved her like a daughter." Azula could picture it. She was
stung that she'd been so purposefully kept out of such an important part of Katara's life.

Katara nodded and brushed a hand through Azula's hair. "The first time I left, I left her with Gran
Gran, and when I got back… I knew I couldn't give her up to anyone else. But I felt so guilty
asking you to be her mother, and you were still recovering so I didn't want to dump that on you. I
knew I hadn't given you any choice."

"You didn't have a choice," Azula pointed out.

"And you always said you didn't like children even though you're so good with your niece and
nephew—"

Azula headed off that train of thought. "What's her name?"

"Ana."

Azula placed her hand on Katara's belly and held Katara's gaze. "If you grew a child here and
birthed it, that child would be mine—the same as if I carried a child in my womb. The same holds
for any child you adopt. The only reason I'm angry is because you didn't tell me. I'm not angry
about Ana." She reached up and framed Katara's face in her hands, saying words she'd errantly
assumed Katara knew. "You can ask me anything, Katara. If I can't do it, I'll tell you. Don't ever
put words in my mouth again."

Katara nodded slowly; she gave Azula a long, soft look of regret and affection. "You're right. I'm
sorry I didn't tell you; I'm sorry I didn't ask you to come sooner. I'm also sorry I wasn't able to tell
you before…the big reveal."

"Did I frighten Ana?" She couldn't imagine how she'd looked staring at that little girl with her arms
around Katara. Azula couldn't exactly remember the moments of realizing the truth and walking
across the bay to the steamer. She hadn't been that angry in a long time.
Katara shook her head in denial. "You only frightened me."

Azula squeezed her hand in apology and tried to lighten the mood. "Mom will be pleased. I've
finally given her my own Fire Nation Princess."

"Officially?" Katara gasped.

Once again, she was insulted by Katara's shock and managed to swallow it. "Of course, as soon as I
can do the necessary paperwork. Any child that is yours is my legitimate heir. When Ana comes of
age, she'll be able to make that choice for herself. She won't technically be a princess because I'm
not Fire Lord, but I doubt Zuko would protest. It's a fun title for a little girl to have."

Katara began to pepper kisses across Azula's face, laughing and crying at once.

"I'm not sure why you're so ecstatic," Azula mumbled against the gentle assault, breathing her
anger and hurt away and focusing instead on the logistics of it. "We'll have to rearrange everything
in the royal suite and hire a nursemaid. She will not be allowed to abuse Tonk."

"Of course not."

"And we must arrange for a tutor, though I suppose she could share lessons with Tozin and Rina. Is
she a waterbender?"

Katara put her hand over Azula's mouth. "Later." She met Azula's lips in a long kiss. Azula
softened into it, but she knew it would take her longer to forgive the insult of the day. Katara must
have sensed that. She wrapped her arms around Azula's neck and stroked her shoulders. Her voice
took a gentle wheedling edge, and she nuzzled close. "I can borrow a tub from Mimi so you can
take a nice, hot bath. How does that sound?"

"What is the usual use of said tub?" Azula asked skeptically.

Katara pulled a face. "Dog water trough."

"I'll pass, thank you."

"I'd clean it first!"

"I'm sure you would." Azula imagined how much dog saliva coated the trough and couldn't
suppress her shudder.

Katara rolled her eyes though she smiled tenderly. "I'm gone for a few months and you turn into a
neat-freak again."

"I am fastidious and hygienic, not a 'neat-freak'. But since you apparently aspire for me to adopt
the unhygienic habits of Toph Bei Fong, I'll tell you that I planted rice on my trip to Pike Island.
Clearly those farmers don't share my hygienic habits. There's so much mud you have to go barefoot
in it." She shuddered at the thought of the mud between her toes. "And all the sweating. I'm sure I
smelled like a pig."

Katara raised an eyebrow, no doubt imagining it. "How did the terrace method end up working?"

"Quite well, actually. One of my better ideas. We need the money we'll save from Earth Kingdom
rice tariffs."

Katara leaned against her shoulder and sighed. What she was thinking about, Azula couldn't guess.
She gently massaged Katara's neck, fighting the juvenile need to hold on to the insult of the day. "I
bathed this morning so I can wait."

"Then how about we go to bed?"

The light coming in from the iced glass window was still strong. "Is it late enough?"

Katara pulled Azula to her feet. "We only get a few hours of darkness this time of year. I'd usually
stay until the end of the whale butchering, but I've been banished for the night. They'll probably
finish up late tonight."

"Does Ana sleep in your hut?"

Katara nodded, squeezing Azula's hands. "It's her bedtime. Ursa and Iroh volunteered to keep her in
their cabin on the ship. She's already tucked in. Usually I'd ask Gran Gran, but Pakku scares Ana
recently."

Azula wondered how Katara had explained the situation to her parents as she pulled on her parka.
In any case, Ursa and Iroh loved children so it was no surprise they had volunteered.

Katara's face had tightened in grief as she spoke of Pakku, but Azula wasn't sure how to ask after
the old man. Instead, she estimated, "That will last for a few hours. Iroh's going to bring Ana back
in the middle of the night because she'll be scared and will want her mother."

"I think she can last a night," Katara said with a scoff that was all 'she's my kid'.

They walked silently back to the village through soft snowfall with their hands firmly clasped.
Azula was quiet through their simple dinner in Katara's hut. She rescued her silk robe from where it
had been kicked into the bottom of Katara's bed and pulled it on to sleep in. It smelled like Katara
now. Katara changed into a woolen shift and loose trousers. When they settled into bed, Katara
pulled her close and massaged Azula's shoulders gently. She softly asked, "Are you still mad?"

"No." It was the truth. Azula wasn't mad; she was hurt. Katara must have seen that. She pulled
Azula closer.

"Oh, baby." Katara kissed her softly. "I'm sorry," she said with another small kiss. "I'm so sorry.
Never again. Never again. I trust you. I was so stupid." Katara's mouth remained soft on her own,
and each gentle kiss eased some of the pain Azula felt until she faded into restful sleep.

Several hours later, they awoke with Iroh standing awkwardly in the middle of Katara's hut. A little
bundle of furs that held his hand threw herself against Katara, sniffling.

"We had a little nightmare," Iroh said. "Ursa thought it best she sleep in her own bed after that."

After he showed himself out, Katara unbundled the round swathe of furs to reveal a skinny little
girl with wide blue eyes and unruly brown hair. She was cute. Those big blue eyes looked at Azula
with unabashed curiosity. She asked, "Who're you?"

This little girl hadn't asked to be kept a secret. She hadn't asked to lose her blood parents. Children
were good at sensing emotions, and Azula didn't want to be unfair. Katara had eased much of the
hurt she'd caused, and now Azula looked at this little girl and chose to see only what she'd gained.

"Hello, Ana. I'm Azula," she replied soberly, shifting and re-belting her sleeping robe. She asked
her next question seriously. "Do you know you're a princess?"
The blue eyes didn't widen.

"You are a Princess of the Fire Nation." Azula spoke in the matter-of-fact way she always did to
children. Ursa could keep her kissy faces and baby talk. Children were people too, and they
deserved to be addressed as human beings.

This little human being now looked at her with her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. She
looked like she was deciding if Azula was crazy. Then the little girl gave a shy grin. She giggled.
"You're siwwy."

What hurt remained was easy to ignore in the face of this little girl's smile. This would prove to be
an interesting relationship. Azula ignored Katara's smirk and sighed softly. "So I've been told."

"Say your goodnights," Katara said.

Ana darted forward and wrapped a quick hug around Azula's neck. She turned back and hugged
Katara, who kissed her. Each hug had been accompanied by a mumbled 'goodnight'. Katara tucked
her into the small pile of blue and white furs that had been bundled in the corner of the hut. Azula
would have worried about the little girl rolling over and burning herself in the night, but Katara
dragged over a slatted wooden railing that sat between the bedroll and the fire pit. Katara kissed
the little head again, lowered the wick on the oil lamp, and settled back against Azula, warm and
welcome.

"Stop it," Katara warned quietly. Her voice trembled with laughter.

"What?"

"Being so smug. I can hear it."

"I didn't say anything." Azula had been thinking it though: 'I called this.'

"I can hear it in your silence."

Azula was able to smile as she gathered Katara close. "Goodnight, darling."
 First impressions aren't the last

That first morning in the South Pole was actually similar to mornings at the Royal Palace of the
Fire Nation: quiet routine in preparation of a busy day ahead.

At home Azula rarely had time for a boisterous family breakfast. Ursa didn't protest because she
was content to share her mornings with Zuko's kids. Zuko joked that they'd been replaced as Ursa's
babies quickly. In any case, Azula usually trained privately and took a quick tea and rice meal in
the gray before dawn. She liked the peace of watching the sun rise over the volcano's great rim to
set the metallic shingles of the royal district alight.

With their busy schedule it was no wonder Zuko sometimes developed a paunch. Two years after
the arrows, Azula was horrified that her robes had been taken out for more room in her hips. She'd
allowed weakness to progress to laziness. She'd coaxed Zuko to begin training with her several
days a week and got up several hours before dawn to train privately when she could.

Though Zuko had never asked her why she didn't firebend, she was sure he knew. Their family
maintained Azula's lie for reasons she couldn't guess. Katara was probably still ignorant, and that
brought a sting of guilt Azula ignored. Explaining her lie now would be too complicated and cause
needless worry. It was a fact about herself that she'd accepted: she wasn't a firebender anymore.

Zuko himself rarely used his firebending. When Azula had asked him why, he'd looked at his
children and said one word: Ozai. She understood even if she didn't entirely agree. After Ozai,
firebending was the last thing Zuko wanted for his children. They would learn, but they would do
it at their own pace without even the pressure of their father's talent.

Some warrior royal family they'd turned out to be.

Before Tozin and Rina, Azula had understood Ozai's lessons as cruel necessity. His violence had
saved her life on quite a few occasions during the war. Ozai taught her ingenuity in the face of
overpowering strength. How fitting that Azula's first true loss had been that situation: her brute
strength beaten by Katara's clever ingenuity. Azula would never regret Ozai's harsh bending
lessons with her, but she could not fathom how he had been able to treat any child, much less his
own, like that.

Then again, Ursa had never been gentle with her either when she was a girl. Maybe Azula had
invited it.

Ana, Katara's little girl, was not like Azula in any way. She smiled freely, giggled, and wanted
hugs and kisses from her mother…even when she proved herself stubbornly independent. When
Katara helped Ana scoop boiled oats out of the pot in the coal pit for breakfast, Ana refused to eat
out of that bowl.

Azula held out her hand. "I happen to like being served."

Katara handed Azula the child-sized bowl, and Ana, with her tongue out in concentration, scooped
her own oats into a larger bowl. A large plop of oats was saved from hitting the floor when Katara
deftly sent it back into the pot with a flick of her wrist.

They'd woken up late, or so it had seemed to Azula when she walked out of the hut to brave the
outhouse. The sun had been shining bright, but its warmth hardly touched the shocking cold. It was
both wonderful and disconcerting to know the sun would be high in the sky so early in the day.
She'd meditated in her parka and enjoyed feeling the sun warm her face. She'd also stretched out
her back, which was stiff from sleeping on a pelt over a hard wood floor.

When she'd returned to the hut, she'd found Ana was snuggled up to Katara, trying to wake her up
with gentle taps to her face. Azula wasn't as gentle; she sat on Katara. Katara groaned, glared at
them both, and staggered out of her bed to begin her day.

Breakfast was a quiet affair after Ana's unhappy demands to serve herself. The little girl wasn't too
concerned with Azula, though she liked to give a shy grin and peek up under her eyelashes in the
way of little children. Katara was quietly gathering herself for the day ahead while she gulped
down her boiled oats. Ana was more interested in picking the fruit out of her oats to eat. Azula was
glad the foodstuffs they'd brought aboard the steamer were appreciated.

When she had Ana's full attention, Azula wiggled her fingers, looked down at her hands, and did a
little trick that looked like she'd removed her thumb and placed it back on. Once upon a time, Lu
Ten had liked to play that trick with her. Azula had asked him over and over again until she'd
learned how he did it, which had taken all the fun out of it…at least until she was able to perform
the trick for herself.

When Ana saw the trick, her blue eyes went wide. Katara smiled at Azula over Ana's shoulder and
picked up the girl. She dressed her with an efficiency that betrayed she'd been doing this for a long
time.

"What will you be doing today?" Azula asked Katara.

"After I drop this little one off at school, I have to make my health rounds, then I'll help clean out
the icehouse so we can start storing whale flesh. I need to check the thickness of the ice along the
bay—I've put it off way too long—and I might help Nema check our fresh water stores. Mimi
asked me if I'd help with afternoon lessons, but we might start putting up a hut for Nukkuk's
family. I have whale-watch in the late afternoon. And tonight we're supposed to start some baskets
from the baleen, but I'll probably have to help Gran Gran with some of her chores."

"That sounds like more things than ten people can do in ten days."

Katara tugged Ana's arms through her parka sleeves and gave a halfhearted smile of agreement.
Azula barely had time to kiss her before she was out of the hut.

Azula resigned herself to being the source of her own amusement for the day. Perhaps she could
manage to do a task or two around the village. For now, she was alone and she had nothing to do. It
was a strange situation.

She took a few minutes to further explore Katara's little abode. The floor was sanded wood, raised
from the smoldering fire pit in the center of the hut. The coals in the fire pit were gray, and they
flared with a gentle stir. It was a good way to keep some level of warmth in this dwelling without
risking fire. Most likely the hut was raised from the ice. Azula wondered at the specifics of its
architecture, especially with the igloo exterior.

She touched a curved wooden support on one wall and realized it wasn't wood at all. It was bone.
Azula felt a shiver of awe; this was a whale rib. She followed its curve up to the ceiling and noticed
for the first time a hole that vented what little smoke the coals gave off with their warmth.

The curved corners of the hut held a variety of items and storage containers. There was a trunk
along the wall that she was especially interested in. The top of it was ink-stained and clearly
doubled as Katara's writing desk. There were several colorful books in the trunk. Azula lifted them
out.

All of them were Laza's illustrated picture books. The books were faded and scratched but
obviously cared for: The Princess and the Throne Room, The Prince and the Fire Broach, and The
Princess and the Mongoose Dragon. The latter was a story that Ursa hadn't known until she saw it
in print. She'd read it, gone white, and looked at Azula like she was thankful her daughter was still
alive.

She'd erred in not asking for a shipment of books for the children here. She'd never considered
children of other nations would want to read books written for Fire Nation children. Perhaps Laza
could collaborate with Katara to draft a few books for the Southern Water Tribe.

Azula poked further in the chest. There was a pile of papers, a blank scroll, a bottle of ink, a writing
brush, and a quill pen. She discovered a long, thick needle when she stabbed her finger on it. The
needle was made of bone, and it had a blunt end that settled into her first two fingers. Below those
items were scraps of leather, a spool of thin fishing line, several two-pronged barbed fishing hooks,
a decorative ivory knife, and a bag that Azula didn't want to attempt to drag out for fear of stabbing
herself again. She replaced what she'd removed and closed the trunk.

Beside it was another chest. It had two compartments inside, and both were filled with letters. She
shuffled through the smaller compartment and found letters from Zuko, Sokka, the North Pole, a
few other individuals, and at least one from the Avatar. The larger compartment was filled with
letters marked with her own seal.

Azula plucked one of her letters off of the pile, studied her dragon seal, and opened it.

There was much excitement in the palace today. A snake threatened Tozin in the garden, and his
nursemaid screamed bloody murder. The nursemaid was rightfully frightened; the snake was a
viper. I've sketched its dorsal pattern in the margins. If you see that, kindly don't pet it. Can you
guess who saved my nephew from the snake?

Tonkara apparently drew the snake's attention and snatched it up to feast. (I confess I screamed
myself when I stepped on the half of the snake Tonk left me on the balcony.) The nursemaid
declared our vicious little cat is the bravest animal she's ever known. Maybe Zuko will stop
complaining about the cat hair on his robes.

With love,
Azula

She smiled at the memory and replaced the letter in the haphazard stack. Out of curiosity, she
chose another.

Zuko bought a bicycle. I don't know how it's possible, but they're all the rage for commoners to
transport themselves around on. Some nobles even prefer to ride in bicycle-drawn carriages. Zuko
looked like a fool wobbling on it, but his children were delighted to watch him. No doubt he'll
order smaller versions for Tozin and Rina. Smaller and hopefully infinitely safer with Tozin's
dubious record.

I'm almost tempted to learn how to use one of those strange contraptions too. Maybe we can get
away to Ember Island and try in relative privacy.

The trip had never happened, but Azula had ordered the bicycle. Azula dropped the letter back onto
the pile with vague regret.
She went back to the other side of the chest and shuffled around to see how many letters from the
Avatar that Katara had kept. She pulled out an unmarked scroll and opened it out of curiosity; it
was a waterbending scroll. Azula's attention was drawn away from that when she saw a few of her
letters buried in the bottom of this compartment. She wondered why these were abandoned. As she
lifted the bundle out, she realized it was bound with red silk. These weren't abandoned; they were
treasured.

She unwrapped the set, chose the top letter, and discovered it had been flattened and refolded
enough times that the ink had worn out of the crease and the paper's edges were tattered.

Katara,

I dreamed of you last night. You tasted me until I screamed your name. You slipped inside me and
rocked me close and kissed me so that I could taste myself on your lips. My orgasm woke me. It
wasn't enough. A dream will never be enough. I closed my eyes and put my hand between my legs
and I thought of you.

You leave me wet and breathless. I smell myself on my fingers when I write to you. Can you smell
me where you are?

Don't leave me waiting too long, darling.

Azula raised her eyebrows, a little shocked at these words she'd put to paper. She opened the
second letter. It was written along the same lines. Had she known Katara treasured these erotic
letters, she would have written more than the half dozen in the stack. She carefully refolded the
letters, retied them, and replaced them under the stack of scrolls. Azula turned back to her
examination of the hut.

There were a few wide baskets stacked in the corner. One was lined with a tanned leather sack and
full of coals. The second had a bag of rice and a bag of oats within it. The third had a variety of
animal bones and a sharp carving knife in a crude sheath. Azula reached past the knife and lifted
out a bone that was a half-carved comb; the handle had begun to shape into a whale head. Had
Katara done this? She had many talents that Azula had ever realized.

There were a few spears bound together leaning against the wall, and their sharp edges were
covered in thick leather. One had a deadly barb on it; perhaps it was the whale spear. There was a
length of rope carefully coiled on several folded animal pelts. Azula poked around that side of the
hut and found a smaller chest. When she opened it, she realized she'd discovered Ana's small
collection of possessions. There was a small comb and a few sets of clothes, but there were also
childish treasures: a smooth black rock, a small piece of bone, a shining red button, an animal
tooth, and so forth. Azula left them as they were and carefully replaced the chest.

She sat back down in the bedroll and regarded the coals in the fire pit. She meditated on them for a
little while before her boredom drew her back.

What was she to do? Surely Kanna could find her a task. Azula dressed herself in her parka jacket,
turned down the wick on the lamp, and ducked out into the cold to find the woman.

She gave up on that venture as soon as she stepped out of Katara's hut. There was a man standing
there apparently waiting for her. His lined dark face set off his bright blue eyes—Katara's eyes. He
seemed to unfold himself from his stance. He wasn't particularly tall, but he had a big presence
especially in that dark blue parka, and he knew it. He raised his chin and studied her
expressionlessly. Then he pointed the handle of his coiled whip towards the sled that was hitched
to six thick-furred dogs at the inland gap in the ice wall.
"We're going seal hunting."

"You must be Hakoda," she said dryly. Her breath seemed thicker in the air today. Maybe it was
colder, despite the sun that was so bright.

"Are you coming or not?"

Azula resigned herself to it and followed him to the sled. Hakoda took hold of the sled handles and
stood on the curved lever that rounded over the sled skis. "Hei!" he shouted. He didn't crack his
whip. He didn't need to.

The dogs strained against their harnesses, and Hakoda gradually released his weight from the bar
he was standing on. Was it a brake mechanism? The sled began to move as he set his feet on the
skis. Because she hadn't been offered a ride, Azula guessed she was expected to jog behind the
leather-covered sled. With her new sealskin boots, she might not break her neck on the ice.

No one was around to watch them make their way out of the icy barrier that surrounded the
settlement. Well, if she had to murder him, she could claim innocence. Or he could if he murdered
her. Whoever lost that could be fed to the dogs. What a comforting thought.

The exercise of power she expected was for Hakoda to drive his dogs faster than she could run, but
the sled remained within her sight at all times. It was almost impossible to judge time or distance
with the ever present pale sun and the virtually unchanging white ice and snow of their
environment. The small hills they passed surprised her until she considered there was probably
earth beneath them. Running in the snow wasn't as difficult as she expected, but she quickly began
to sweat in her parka, which was cumbersome for this activity. She welcomed the physicality of it
and was pleased that her body was strong even in this new environment.

"Nuu!" Hakoda shouted ahead of her. She could guess that command more easily than the few he'd
used to gently coax turns during the trip. His feet were back on the brake lever as the dogs slowed.
He tossed a heavy pick attached to the sled onto the ground and stomped it into the ground. When
she caught up to him, he motioned for Azula to take his place. "Keep them pointed straight."

They were facing the sun. They must be going east. And she was apparently expected to drive the
dog sled. She kicked the pick out of the ground, placed it on the sled handle, and mimicked his
early display. "Hei!"

To her surprise the dogs responded; they jostled the brake lever from below her feet with their
power. She had to jog a few steps before she could put her feet on the skis. It wasn't an easy ride.
There were bumps and shifts, and she had the responsibility of balancing the sled in the face of the
shifting landscape. Hopefully Hakoda could keep up.

She was driving a dog sled. Astounding. This was probably a recipe for disaster, but what an
experience. The dogs exhaled heavy bursts of warm breath as they jogged along steadily in front of
the sled. From what she'd read there were always lead dogs, swing dogs, and wheel dogs. She
didn't remember much detail about the significance of each besides the obvious: the lead dogs led
and the wheel dogs were powerful animals that could drag the sled out of snow or mud.

"Stop them!" Hakoda eventually shouted to her.

"Nuu!" she shouted. This time she pressed the brake lever hard, and the sled ground to a halt as the
dogs slowed. The call had hurt her throat, but it was satisfying to see the dogs respond to her
command as quickly as they did their master's. But then again, they probably only responded
because they'd been trained well by their master. She tossed the ice pick down and stomped it into
the ground.

When Hakoda walked up to the sled, he wasn't panting noticeably. His braided brown hair was
streaked with gray and wrinkles deepened the corner of his eyes, but he was still physically fit. He
was probably trying to show her that. What a joy to deal with a chest-pounding, disapproving
father.

"Seal hole," Hakoda said, pointing off towards the north across a flat expanse of snow and ice.

She'd read about the tiger seals of the South Pole. They lived under the ice though they required air
like all non-fish sea creatures. They broke the ice to create necessary breathing holes, which was
where the hunter would wait. She hadn't realized there was no earth beneath them.

"We're on shorefast ice then?"

He gave her a purely hateful look. "My daughter says you like to read. Reading doesn't make you
an expert."

At least he'd started the argument now instead of waiting. "Is that what this is about? Did you bring
me out here to prove to me that I don't know this place and by extension, I don't know Katara? This
is a pathetically jejune effort. I expected better of the infamous Chief Hakoda."

His jaw tightened. "You seduced my daughter—"

"Actually, she seduced me."

She expected him to hit her. He surprised her when he didn't. His fist did clench, and he turned to
walk away from her and the now barking dogs. She followed him a few paces behind. "Shall we
skip the useless posturing? I'm not going away. Caring about you or your feelings towards me is
beneath me. The only thing I care about is making this as painless as possible for Katara's sake."

"Don't even pretend you care about her!" He gesticulated aggressively as he turned on her. His
teeth flashed white with his snarl. Apparently Katara had inherited this man's temper. "Ten years
and you haven't even married her. You keep her as your consort!" He snarled the last word like it
was a curse.

His ignorance provoked her anger. "It is a marriage, you fool."

"You've said no vows! You've made no promises, and still she wastes her life with you!"

"Not in ceremony," Azula retorted, her heart rate rising with her anger. She softened her tone
again. "I've said them to her, the only person who matters. The last time I checked, she's the only
person in the relationship with me."

Hakoda shifted into a different attack. "I won't forget. Your people murdered my wife, her mother.
For decades you sent attacks against us. We lived our lives in fear of your ships!"

This was closer to the argument she'd anticipated. Did he expect her to fall on her belly and cry for
forgiveness about a war her great-grandfather had started? Did he want her to apologize for the
man that had killed his wife? Hakoda's mind was already set, and she would not grovel to him for
her ancestor's mistakes. She adopted a supercilious tone. "I'm sorry, are we talking about
something that happened when I was a child?"

He sneered and pointed at her sharply. "I know what you did during the war. I know you tried to
kill my daughter. You tried to kill all of us. Zuko should have given us your head for what you've
done."

Azula laughed; she couldn't help herself. "You want my head for what? Defending myself and my
nation? Conquering Ba Sing Se? Fighting Katara? She tried to kill me too. She came close a few
times." Azula still remembered the frozen moment when Katara's waters sliced by her face under
Ba Sing Se; it made her shiver in pleasure now. "It was war."

"You love war, don't you, you bloodthirsty firebender!"

Azula folded her arms and didn't deign to respond to that stupid statement. There as a limit to her
patience, and he'd reached it. She rolled her eyes. "So you've digressed to name calling. Are we
going to hunt seals or do you plan to continue fabricating pedestrian lies to justify your belief that
I'm not good enough for your daughter?" His jaw clenched, and she continued, "Because you're
right. I'm not good enough. But I'm the closest she'll ever get."

That visibly surprised him, but Hakoda quickly reset his jaw in anger. He looked her in the eye.
She looked back at him in a flat stare.

"Tell me you love her."

"So you can accuse me of lying again?"

He spat on the ice next to her boot. The utter rudeness of the gesture wasn't lost on her. She shook
her head and laughed airily. "I'm beginning to wonder if you even know your daughter."

He seized her parka in the attempt to physically intimidate her. "Be careful about what you say
next."

Azula rolled her eyes. This man apparently didn't realize she'd grown up with Ozai as her father.
Hakoda didn't have it in him to hurt her. She met his stare and lifted her face close enough to make
him uncomfortable. She kept her voice even. "Let me explain this to you then. Your daughter,
Katara, is easily the most headstrong woman I know. She's often contrary by her nature and refuses
to do anything she'd rather not do. I have no doubt she was born bossing Sokka around."

She had Hakoda's full attention. His mouth twitched, but he contained whatever emotion she'd
evoked with that statement.

"If I had the ability to coerce Katara into a relationship by the sheer power of my suggestion, I
would rule the world. Not only do you give me too much credit, you do your own daughter a
disservice. And if you think I would risk her for some petty attack on your people, you're a fool. I
know who she would choose in that situation."

Hakoda's grip on her parka loosened, and his expression softened. "What about Ana?" The
question lacked the vigor of his earlier protests.

"She's my daughter now too," Azula said evenly.

His eyes were bright, and they met hers again in a long stare. His shoulders slowly relaxed in a
softening of temper that Azula had seen in Katara time and time again. He released her parka,
broke his stare, and pointed towards the horizon. "The hole should be about fifty paces north. Wait
for me."

Did she dare think she'd won his approval? Not likely. But she had a reprieve, at least until he
started his next angry protest over said seal hole. She walked in the direction that he pointed and
placed her feet carefully to avoid falling into the hole they were looking for. His crunching
footsteps seemed to go back in the direction of the sled and the violently barking dogs there.

"What?" she heard him say in alarm.

She peeled her gaze from the ice and snow under her feet to turn her head to look back at him. The
sound of the dogs now sent a shiver of unease down her spine. As she looked across the snow,
something else caught her attention. It took a long moment to understand: there were human tracks
in the snow. Azula followed the line of tracks—small tracks and close together, a child's tracks—
and her breath caught in terror.

Hakoda let out a bellow behind her as he saw the same thing.

There was a child standing on the ice twenty meters away from her. And there was an
unmistakable polar bear dog standing just beyond the child. Drool dripped from its great mouth,
and its breath condensed in the air as it turned towards the tiny figure that had a small hand out
towards it. Its great yellow teeth—how strange that she saw so clearly that its upper left canine was
broken—were bare.

She didn't have time to wonder about how this situation had happened or even what she'd do
without a weapon. She burst into a full sprint as the bear began to rear on its back legs.

When she slammed into its deep ribcage, she did so at full speed. The solidness of the beast
shocked her—bruised her shoulder—and yet it overbalanced and flopped on its side. Azula skipped
off of its side, her momentum going in two directions at once. The bear's massive forearm swept
out as Azula thudded onto her back on the hard ice. She heard her parka rip and had the inane
thought that Katara was going to kill her for that.

The great maw of the bear opened, and she went on instinct when she kicked it in the face. The
polar bear dog snarled at her and snapped at her feet, but her next kick landed on its open jaw.
Bone and cartilage popped audibly, and the animal roared and scrambled backwards in quick
retreat.

The bear watched her for a second of naked aggression. Its tongue lolled out of the side of its
broken jaw; its muzzle curled in a snarl. It was a moment she would never forget: taking in its
massive forelimbs, the thick furred tail, the ribs that were clearly visible beneath its heavy pelt. It
was a starving animal, probably weak for its kind, but it was still stronger than she could ever hope
to be.

The bear lunged at her and swung its great paw. She rolled over and relaxed into the blow. The
impact of it shuddered through her back and chest and knocked the wind out of her. She hadn't
expected the sheer power of the blow. Despite softening her body into it, Azula was tumbling over
the ice and snow, skidding on a slippery surface—then her head scraped a rough edge as her legs
swept downward. Azula had a millisecond of frozen realization as she looked below her into the
ring of inky blackness of seawater.

She'd found the seal hole.

She couldn't temper her first instinct to breathe after her body submerged. She'd never felt anything
so singularly cold. Her lungs and sinuses burned from the water that filled them, and she kicked
towards the surface only to strike her head on solid ice. Water rushed into her parka from the gaps
in her neck and sleeves, bringing with it numbing pain. She struggled to stay afloat, and her head
struck the ice once more. Her momentum must have taken her away from the hole in the ice, but
there was no way to know which way. Her arms flailed as her strength began to slip away.
Abruptly, a bruising force encircled her wrist and wrenched her sideways. The force seized her
shoulders and tore her out of the water. She had the irrational thought it was the polar bear dog
coming back to finish the job, but she had more important things to worry about.

There was air, but she couldn't get any. Her diaphragm jerked in spasms, and she hacked up a
mouthful of warm salt water that steamed when it struck the ice. There were long painful minutes
of two instincts ingrained in her body: coughing out the fluid in her lungs and greedily gulping at
the air. Eventually she reached a point when the ragged resistance of fluid in her lungs eased.

All the while strong hands were striping her out of her sodden clothing until she was naked on the
ice. Then she was being rubbed vigorously with snow. She couldn't draw enough breath to snarl in
protest, and her arms were too weak to beat the assault off. She was completely numb. What a
strange sensation.

Finally, Hakoda—for it was he who'd been doing all of this—yanked her forcefully into his dry
parka jacket. He shoved her numb hands into one of his mittens and managed to squeeze both of
her feet into the other. He slapped her in a stunning blow and tightened his hood around her face.
He grunted as he lifted Azula into his arms. Her hair spilled out of the big parka and clicked as it
fell over her shoulders. It was frozen in the cold air. How odd...her eyelashes had a fringe of ice
too.

"Ana, come!"

Fuck, it had been Ana. The little girl couldn't have been hurt, not if Hakoda let her walk. She wasn't
hurt. She couldn't be hurt. Where was the bear?

What were the chances of this clusterfuck?

"I thought you said seal hunting," she rasped through her chattering teeth. The words prompted
another round of coughing, and she spat watery mucous from her mouth.

Hakoda laughed shakily. "Yeah, well, I didn't expect you to be crazy enough to tackle a polar bear
dog. You'd better not die. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

"Even I'm not that vindictive," she managed to say.

Azula breathed into the ruff of Hakoda's hood and focused on the warmth of it. She focused on
multiplying that warmth with her diaphragm. Her limbs were numb and her body was wracked with
painful shudders. Her throat ached in muted agony from her coughing. She stared over Hakoda's
shoulder and her eyes focused on the speckled trail of blood on the snow behind him. It was the
only color on the ground. She watched the little girl who followed that trail of blood as fast as her
little legs could go.

Her own blood?

Azula cast her eyes along the ice and saw the bear in the distance: a lump of yellow on the white
horizon. There was a spear sticking out of its carcass straight up towards the sky. It was a strange
dark vertical line in this world of horizontals and gentle bends. There was a dragging pattern in the
snow from the polar bear dog to the black hole that opened into the ocean. The seal hole was
smaller than she had first thought, and from this angle it didn't seem as impossibly deep as it did
when she'd looked down into it. What a horrid stroke of luck to just happen to drop into it. Azula
turned her eyes back to the little girl who followed them. She was crying into her mittens.

Dogs barked before she realized they were back at the sled. Hakoda put her in the snow, which
was no colder than anywhere else she'd been recently.

He scattered the sled's contents on the ice. Then he deposited Azula into the naked leather that
lined the sled. "Don't die," he commanded sharply as he yanked a strip of leather from his pack and
wrapped it tightly around her leg. With the pressure came pain, and she realized she'd been cut by
the bear's claws.

She stopped shivering. Hakoda slapped her cheek again. "Stay awake! Ana, you sit here with her.
Keep her warm and keep her awake."

Warm was about the last thing Azula felt right then. This all had taken a dream-like quality,
especially when she saw the toes of her escaped foot were waxy gray. Hakoda pushed that foot
back into his big glove quickly. Closing her eyes to rest was a temptation, but a little body
unceremoniously landed on her diaphragm, forcing a gasp and a cough. Ana sat in Azula's lap,
watching her with wide, teary eyes. Hakoda wrenched open the little girl's parka and stuck a water
bladder inside it.

"It's cowd!" Ana complained.

"Leave it." Hakoda's command was sharp enough that the little girl balked in fear. He folded the
two ends of the leather over them both. It wasn't enough to cover Azula's legs. She looked at the bit
of the white skin of her leg that was exposed to the freezing air. There was a bead of water sitting
on her skin. It wasn't frozen.

She ignored the pain in her throat and exhaled deeply. Her breath condensed in the freezing air,
sweeping gently away with the biting wind that blew across the shorefast ice. Azula imagined the
heat of her breath moving inward.

Hakoda unhitched one of his dogs—from the back pair, the wheel dogs. It was a big animal,
broader than most breeds found in the Fire Nation. An old animal by the gray on its muzzle. An
old dog.

Hakoda put it inside the sled with Azula and Ana, and its furry body was still and gentle. She
couldn't feel it against her skin, yet she sensed its heat. Its sharp blue eyes regarded Azula.

An old dog.

Its breath condensed in the air, but not with the same strength as hers did. She exhaled a warm
breath of air, fighting the customary tickle in her throat. When she inhaled, she felt the so-cold air
quickly warm in her lungs. She concentrated on spreading that heat down through her diaphragm.

"I'll be back." Hakoda seized her hair and yanked, prompting Azula to snarl at him. "Stay awake.
Don't die. Ana, keep your hands on her face." He yanked her hair again and strode away.

Ana snuggled closer to her, snuffling out little sobs, and put her cold mittens over Azula's numb
face. From around the curve of the mitten, Azula studied the unbroken white on blue of their
surroundings. A soft wind kicked snow up like sand, and it ripped through the parka jacket that
covered her skin. This was a beautiful, alien place, and it had been her mistake to take for granted
that it was also an unforgiving place.

She breathed out and in. Out and in. Out and in. It was almost meditation. Almost. She focused on
it, focused on what little warmth she could scrounge and push outwards from her core, focused on
the warmth of the breath that was trapped beneath Ana's hands, and kept her breathing steady. Her
diaphragm felt big and strong, and she finally reached a point in which it radiated heat through her
body, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

She closed her eyes, curled her toes, and tightened her hands into fists. Her feeling was coming
back with burning pins and needles. She would not die.

"You aren't dead, are you?" Hakoda's question startled her.

"Despite your earlier protests, I'm sensing you wouldn't mind the trade-off," Azula replied roughly,
not opening her eyes.

"You do have a sense of humor; I'll give you that," Hakoda muttered.

Hakoda grabbed his dog by the harness and replaced it on his line, leaving a void of cold air in its
place. He picked up Ana, placed her in the snow, and did the same with Azula. His parka was long
enough to protect her from the snow and ice that he set her on, but the air was still sharply frigid.

Hakoda spread out a massive dry pelt of white bristly fur in his sled. It was from the polar bear
dog. How long had he been gone to skin it? He pulled off the mitten from Azula's feet for some
reason, but he gave up on that when she kicked him in the thigh. The next kick would have been to
a more sensitive area, and he knew that. He smiled tightly, shoved her feet back into the warmth of
his mitten, and dropped her on the pelt in his sled. He deposited Ana in Azula's lap again. He
pulled the warmed water skin from the little girl's parka, placed it against Azula's lips, and yanked
her hair.

"Drink."

She obeyed. The water was a warm balm down her sore throat and into her stomach.

He tucked one end of the pelt under Azula and wrapped the second across it, creating a cool
cocoon that immediately began to warm. Azula's shivers abruptly returned to her. She blinked past
the mass of the pelt and saw Hakoda toss a pile of frozen parka into the front of the sled. She was
grateful he'd saved it for her.

"Drink."

She took another gulp of the water and shuddered uncontrollably in the warmth of the pelt that
surrounded her. He yanked her hair again.

"Stop it!" she snarled at him. "If you do that again, I'll bite those fingers off."

His face shifted into a faint smile, and he flipped a piece of the pelt over her head, cutting off her
sight completely.

Hakoda stood at the back of the sled and shouted, "Hei, hei!" His whip cracked. The dogs burst
forth with energy that surprised her. This was a full sprint, and Hakoda urged them on with
smooches and shouts.

Within their dark cocoon, Ana snuggled into Azula's lap. The little girl whispered, "You're warm."

Azula stood on a hot beach. Her toes curled in the sand, and the surf swept up around her feet, a
cool relief against her hot skin. The sun shone bright on her eyes. Something massive and dark
swept in front of its light, and she was frozen at the sight of that dark silhouette. Fire swept around
her, and Azula raised her arms to draw it away as her own.
She lurched awake with a cry.

Coals popped on the fire, and she turned her head in alarm at the noise. Katara and Hakoda sat
across the hut from her, and they looked at her in surprise. Hakoda said, "That was some dream."

Katara scooted closer and wiped sweat from Azula's face. "You're burning up."

"I'm hot," Azula said hoarsely. But even as she said it, she realized she wasn't. She shivered in the
cool of Katara's hut and allowed Katara to push her back into the bedroll.

Her memories flicked in quickly. When they'd arrived at the village, Kanna and two other old
women had unbundled Azula from the sled and fed her hot broth as they checked her extremities.
They'd murmured to each other in surprise that there hadn't been the frostbitten screaming agony
that usually accompanied exposures. They'd checked her nose, her ears, her fingers, and her toes.
All had been spared the swollen blistered redness of coming frostbite.

After half an hour of not only not shivering but also beginning to sweat from the hot rocks they put
in pockets of her bundled fur clothing, Kanna deemed it safe for a hot water bath. No doubt they
used that disgusting dog trough, which was only wide enough for Azula to squeeze her hips and
feet into. The bath had been pleasant so long as she hadn't thought about all the dog saliva. The two
strange women had whispered about her scars and the whiteness of her skin until Kanna hushed
them.

Azula wanted to meet Katara's tribe, but that had been a bit much. After that uncomfortable
experience, they'd bound her leg, dressed her in her robe, and bundled her into Katara's bed. Now
she struggled into some semblance of consciousness from the deep sleep she'd been in.

She said, "The polar bear dog."

"Yes, the very dead polar bear dog, thankfully." Katara shot her father a pointed look and
continued, "Dad, you were just telling me you were wrong about Azula and that she's not a bad
person, weren't you?"

"I must still be dreaming."

"I could pinch you," Hakoda offered with a smirk. Katara glared at him, and he sighed and spoke
to Azula neutrally. "I don't like you, and I don't trust you. But you didn't hesitate. You saved Ana's
life without a thought. You didn't even know it was her, did you?"

"Did you really think I'd let a child die?" Azula asked. Her voice was hoarse, and her throat didn't
hurt as badly as she thought it would. She shifted and winced, taking in her aches and pains finally.
Her back felt like she'd been buried under an earthbender boulder, and her thigh was stiff and
tender.

Katara looked down at her as she continued to stroke Azula's hair. She looked weary—no wonder
given what had happened that morning—if not happy. "You attract danger better than anyone I
know."

"How badly am I hurt?"

"You have a giant paw print on your back, and the gash on your leg wasn't deep enough to open
muscle. You're officially the luckiest person I know. Dad said you went under the ice."

"The South Pole is beautiful but it isn't swimming country." She cleared her throat and sat up again
slowly with a wince. She ignored Katara's protests. "Ana?"
"She wasn't hurt, just scared out of her mind. Rightfully so. Had the talking-to of her life. So did I,"
Hakoda admitted with a faint smile directed to his daughter. He lost his smile and looked at Azula
with a measure of respect. "She's safe because of you."

"Stowaway, I presume?" A stowaway that had probably clumsily gotten out of the covered sled,
humming to herself happily, and wandered without a care out onto the ice…where a polar bear dog
was lumbering around. Meanwhile the adults were too busy pounding their chests and posturing
about Katara to notice the toddler, polar bear dog, or the alarmed dog team. Pathetic.

Hakoda's expression indicated he was feeling as sheepish as Azula at that moment. He nodded.
"Apparently she wandered away from the school session during the whale sign. I should have
checked my sled, but I was a little...preoccupied this morning. It's just like her to do it too. And just
like her to think a polar bear dog is a friend. I still remember the first time I found her buried under
my sled dogs." He smiled and stood, a massive presence in this small hut. "I should go and help
with the whale."

"The same whale?" Azula asked after he left.

"A second," Katara said with audible relief. "I would have been here when you got back but we
were on the kayak."

"What time is it?"

"Early evening." Katara handed her a small cup of what Azula realized was her opiate extract and
brushed her forehead again. "Drink. Tell me if you start feeling feverish again. Dad said you
breathed seawater."

"Admittedly not my smartest decision."

"Why did he take you out there?"

Azula shook her head. "I just managed to win your father's tenuous approval. I don't think telling
you every detail of the morning is a good way to maintain the relationship."

"What you're saying is he's in big trouble." Katara's ominous pronouncement was softened with a
smile. "Drink," she said again.

Azula did as bid, sighing in relief as her throat relaxed. Katara put her hands on Azula's robed back
and commanded, "Breathe in. Breathe out."

Azula did so. She felt no resistance of fluid in her lungs and Katara made a soft noise of approval.
When she moved away, Azula pushed back the furs and opened the silk robe she'd been dressed in.
Her left leg had a new scar. She probed the flesh. It was tender and a little swollen, but there was
no heat under her skin. Katara must have seen to her wounds; she didn't remember it.

Her voice was smoother after the medicine. "How embarrassing. Between us, your father and I
couldn't even manage a seal. Yet you've landed two whales in as many days." She slowly stretched
her back, bending at the waist. It didn't feel like the bear had bruised or cracked any of her ribs.
Then again, Katara could have seen to that too.

"You killed the polar bear dog that's been terrorizing us for months."

That was welcome news; she hated the thought of a second one wandering around. "It only took a
toddler, a princess, and a chief. The toddler took a little nap, the princess took a little dip, and the
chief took all the credit."
Azula felt a shiver of dread that Katara would ask the obvious question of why she didn't kill the
bear with fire. In her state, she didn't think she could lie, not even to avoid the obvious fallout.
Then again, Katara didn't seem concerned in the least about Azula possibly suffering hypothermia
or frostbite. "Are you alright?"

Katara heaved a shaky sigh. "If I had been there, I would be a nervous wreck. Ana loves animals so
much, but she has trouble understanding some animals should never be approached. Not to
mention that sleds are not for napping." She pushed Azula gently back into her bed and kissed her.
"Thank you."

Azula fingered the heavy braid of Katara's hair and accepted her weight. She took a deep breath in
a sigh that Katara mirrored against her. "I'm glad she wasn't hurt."

Katara shivered at the thought, and Azula ran her hands up and down Katara's back in reassurance.
She asked, "Do they need your help with the whale?"

A nod was the reply, but Katara didn't rise. Azula pushed her back gently and kissed her. "I'll
follow. I just need to stretch."

"Don't push too hard." Katara kissed her mouth. "Eat some of the soup that's in the pot before you
come out." Another kiss. "I dried out your parka and patched it…one day and you already put a
hole in it." Another kiss. "Oh, and try to avoid the ocean this time." Katara gave her one last kiss
before she left.

It was only as she dressed that Azula realized her mistake. She should have asked Katara to pull her
hair back before she left. Now she had the unpleasant job of combing her hair out with Katara's
bone comb. She frowned in concentration as she tied a leather thong to gather the hair at the base of
her neck. It took three tries before she managed to gather it all and not leave an unseemly lump at
the top of her head. Well, she hoped she hadn't; there wasn't a mirror in the hut.

With that task finished, Azula limped out onto the ice towards laughter and voices. As she walked,
her leg loosened and the awkward stiffness of her healed wound went away. Katara was in a class
of her own with her healing talents.

Under different circumstances, Azula would have assumed a horrible battle had taken place to stain
the ice along the bay with so much blood. Instead of the screams and pleadings that were involved
with violent deaths, she heard laughter and chatter.

The whale had been reduced to its under layer of muscle, several large piles of pink blubber, and
viscera scattered across the ice. A few men now worked to free strips of dark muscle with long
double-edged knives on poles.

The flukes of the whale had been removed in two pieces, and two women were slicing through the
thick pink fat and muscle beneath the hide. Two teenagers close by were stripping the gut of the
whale. Perhaps it could be used like komodo rhino gut to make tough string for nets or fishing line
or thread.

The mouth of the whale had been opened—actually, the mandible had been removed entirely—and
its baleen was fanned out in an impressive display. A few villagers were working at the base of the
mouth, gradually freeing the long whalebone strips from the carcass.

A childish peal of laughter drew her attention. Azula recognized Ana's parka by sight—the pretty
white and purple swirls of water across the whole lower half of it—now that she'd seen it framed in
that moment of adrenaline when the polar bear dog reared towards her. Ana ran towards her, and
Azula knew enough about children to bend down.

She ached, and she was afraid her tired muscles would seize up. She'd been too lazy with her
stretches, and she needed to put in a good workout the next morning. Despite that, she was able to
wrap her arms around Ana and straighten with the little girl in her arms. Even in the mass of parka,
Ana didn't weigh much.

"You are never to hide away in a sled again."

Ana's smile faded when she saw Azula's serious expression. She began to pout—not in bratty
emotion but in honest unhappiness. Obviously Katara had had a long talk with her so she didn't
plan to make this particularly painful for either one of them. "You were almost killed. You made
your mother very upset. Never do that again. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Ana nodded.

"In the future, if an animal is snarling at you, don't approach it."

"Are you still hurted?"

"No, I'm not hurt, sweetie." Azula let her expression break into a smile—even though she balked at
using her mother's endearment, dear Agni, what?—and Ana immediately responded with her own
grin.

"Azuwa!" the girl giggled.

"Azula," she corrected mildly before she could think better of it.

Ana nodded. "Azuwa," she repeated.

Azula sighed. "I suppose that's close enough." She'd learned that correcting a young child's
mispronunciations was always and forever an exercise in futility. Ana would learn to pronounce
her liquid consonants soon enough.

The little girl's nose was running, which was especially apparent when she leaned close and gave
Azula a wet kiss on her cheek. Azula admirably suppressed a shudder. She appreciated the kiss; she
didn't appreciate the snot. Azula would much rather deal with her bearded cat's vomit than a child's
mucus any day.

"Mommy said to give this to you."

Azula freed a hand to take the gift. Ana put the object in her mitten. She almost mistook it for a
shell. It had a flat whirling lip like a shell, but instead of the usual glossy finish of shells, it was full
of small holes and ruts. It was about the length and width of her palm. Azula turned it in her fingers
curiously. "Thank you very much. What is it?"

Ana tugged on Azula's ear shyly.

"When someone tells you 'thank you', you should reply with…"

"You're wecome," Ana said dutifully. Yes, this was Katara's child. Katara had used that particular
lesson with Azula so many times she felt a certain glee at being able to use it on another person.
Ana had responded in kind, but Azula usually responded with a rude gesture.

"Tell me in words what this is."

"Ear bone," Ana said. "Of the whawe."

Azula raised an eyebrow as she regarded the strange bone in her hand. Ana giggled shyly, showing
her baby teeth as she did so. Azula looked at her for a moment, then crossed her eyes and puffed
out her cheeks. Ana's reaction was much like Azula's niece and nephew: shrieking laughter.
Children were so easy to please; make a funny face and you were their new best friend. If only
Hakoda worked like that too. That would have saved everyone a lot of grief.

She finally caught sight of Katara, who was with a few other women cutting long strips of whale
skin into smaller pieces. Katara was watching her with an odd expression that melted into a tender
smile. Even after all these years, that particular smile still warmed her. Katara motioned Azula
over.

"You beckoned?" Azula said drolly as she approached. The women working with Katara watched
Azula curiously. "Hi." She smiled in what she hoped was a welcoming way.

"Eat."

Azula dubiously accepted the slice of raw blubber that Katara put in her mouth. Ana opened her
mouth and said, "Ahhh!" Katara gave her a piece as well. Azula got a good look at it then: pink
blubber attached to a piece of black skin. Not exactly the most appetizing thing she'd ever had in
her mouth. Ana began to crunch happily on her mouthful. It crunched?

"This is Lia and Mina."

Of course Katara would introduce someone just after she'd put something in Azula's mouth. She
nodded wordlessly; the women grinned up at her. Azula turned her attention to the bite in her
mouth.

The taste was fishy, rather like the tender inland raw fish. It was not unexpectedly oily—obviously
it would be if it was blubber—but it did have an odd buttery consistency. The piece of skin was the
source of the illogical crunch. Instead of the satisfying crunch of vegetables, this had a grisly
crunch of cartilage. She gave it two ineffective chews and just swallowed it whole like an oyster.
The taste that remained in her mouth was strangely sweet.

All three of the women were watching her reaction with slowly widening grins. The indignity of
it… She turned back to the one person who was taking her seriously. "Ana, what do you call it?"

"Whawe candy!" Ana giggled. She began to shift in Azula's arms, a cue for Azula to set her down.
When back on the ground, she ran towards a group of small children playing inland of them. There
seemed to be a young adult chaperoning them. "Not too far!" Katara called, in a shockingly strong
mommy-voice.

Azula settled on her knees next to Katara. She wanted to try whatever it was they were doing.
"This cannot be beyond my abilities."

"I'm going to remind you that you said that when you cut off your finger."

Azula pulled off a mitten to show Katara her middle finger. "This one?"

The other women giggled. Katara rolled her eyes, muttered something about 'respect', and handed
her a sharp knife with a thin blade. It looked like a filleting knife by Azula's unpracticed eye.
Katara demonstrated the correct cut of slicing a slender strip of the long, wide patches of flesh that
had come from the whale. Azula put her bare hand on the ivory knife handle. She mimicked Katara
and soon fell into a rhythm.
In the wake of their silence, she said, "I found an old scroll lost in a corner of the archives about
these whales. It was written by an Earth Kingdom zoologist that tracked a pod of these whales
about a century ago. He was hosted here, in fact, and tasted one of the whales he'd spent his life
studying. He described it as a very spiritual experience."

"Dork," Katara muttered.

"I am learned, not a dork."

Katara rolled her eyes and mimicked Azula's voice for her next statement. "By 'learn-ed', you mean
awkwardly bookish."

"And you say I'm disrespectful, darling."

"I could just call you doofus and be done with it," Katara retorted.

Their conversation incited a round of giggles from the other two women. In the Fire Nation, Azula
wouldn't have stood for it except from her family. And yet here… This community acted like a big
family. The informality of it was almost freeing. Here laughter had a different connotation. Noble
giggles hid sharp sneers, and this laughter was honest happiness.

"Azula," said one of them. Mina, with the scar across her left eyebrow. "This must seem like such a
small place to you. Katara said you've seen Ba Sing Se and Omashu."

Well, there was no reason to soften that truth. "I conquered Ba Sing Se," she corrected mildly,
earning a look of surprise. "It was impressively horrid for its biased class system, but the Dai Li
police was extraordinary, despite being wasted on Long Feng's drivel. They're mine now, and I
must say I use them better than Long Feng ever did.

"But here… I had no idea what to expect of a place that exists on ice. This is…" She looked around
her. "...exotic to me. And it has proven to be more exciting than the endless political posturing I put
up with in Capital City."

Her words had pleased them. She asked her own question, glancing back at where the men were
removing the ribs from the whale's carcass. "How do you divide such a large resource?"

Lia offered the answer with a shy smile. She wore blue and white beads in a few thin braids in her
hair. It had a pretty effect. "The best is the fluke. We divide that between our elders and the whale
hunters. The blubber we store and distribute to all the families."

"The whale is our rice and oil," Katara elaborated, indicating it was their mainstay with the idiom.
"Baleen will be jewelry and baskets and reinforcement for spears and bows. The ribs we'll use to
make another hut for a family still in a tent. Its other bones will be used for weapons and tools. The
gut we can make into fishing line and netting. We even make drums out of the membrane that
covers the liver and lungs."

Azula considered what they told her now about the whale and remembered what Katara had said
about raising the spear only to see the sacrifice the whale made for her people. Perhaps it was
spiritual to eat the flesh of the whale they hunted. Every part of it would go into a different aspect
of their lives.

When the other two women got up to haul long strips of blubber across the ice to add to their pile
to pare down, Azula turned to Katara. "Is there a symbolic meaning to this?" She held out the ear
bone.
Katara folded Azula's fingers over it. "It's a gift. For you."

"Yes, but what does it mean?"

Katara hesitated; the look she gave Azula in that moment was uncharacteristically wary. "The spirit
of the whale stays with its skull. We deliver the spirit back to the sea with the skull, but a small bit
of it—the ear bones—will stay on land. The whale chooses who will carry a piece of its spirit."

What an interesting belief. Azula traced her thumb along the lip of the dense bone. She didn't hold
much stake in animal spirits, but she knew what a blessing was when she saw one. At least one
person in this village had given her their approval. "Is there a proper thing to do with the spirit?"

Katara's relief was palpable; she swallowed and blinked back tears. "Remember."

"Can I have another bit of your whale candy in remembrance then?"

"I thought you didn't like it."

"It wasn't what I expected, but it certainly wasn't bad." Azula hoped that Katara understood she
meant it about more than the whale. "But in the future, refrain from feeding me new and strange
things before you introduce me to your people."

Katara smirked guiltily. She sliced another piece and placed it in Azula's mouth. Azula took more
time to enjoy the flavor and didn't attempt to chew the skin at all. This bite was much more
pleasant. To her surprise, Katara pulled her into a gentle kiss. When they drew back, Katara looked
at her in a way that made Azula shiver. There was tenderness there, but there was also desire. Even
with her aching body and her exhaustion, Azula's body reacted.

"That'll keep your teeth from falling out, by the way," Katara said quite unromantically.

Those words were enough to distract her. Azula adopted an indignant tone. "My teeth are in no
danger of falling out, I assure you."

"They would be if you couldn't eat citrus fruit every day, like us...so we eat whale skin." Katara
nodded to the dark skin of the whale in her hands. She gave a knowing smile. "I know how much
you like random information."

Azula pondered that for a minute. How fascinating. Who would have thought whale skin and
orangefruit had that in common? She would have to send for texts on whales from the university in
Ba Sing Se and perhaps from the North Pole.

By Katara's slow smile, she guessed what Azula was thinking. She said, "I was thinking we could
go out tomorrow night."

Azula couldn't begin to guess what those words meant in this context. If the South Pole had theater,
she would eat her parka hood. "Go out where?"

"Of the village."

"As long as it doesn't involve a polar bear dog or a seal hole, I think I can clear my schedule for
you."

"Clear it. I'll make sure." Katara leaned close and kissed her gently on the mouth once more. "You
look tired."
"Today was a little more exciting than I had hoped," Azula admitted.

"I should have known all I needed to do was have you and Dad together for a few minutes for you
to win him over. And then almost get yourself killed."

"Of course. I'm a people person."

Katara leaned in for another kiss. Her lips were curved into a smile. "You should probably go see
your parents and let them know you're okay. Then you should go lie down. You'll have the chance
to help us with another whale soon."

Azula stood and stretched to soften the pain in her sore muscles. She was twenty-seven years old,
surely not old enough to miss her teenage body during the war. She hoped it was more a matter of
no longer being used to the constant stretching and bruising and burning of her muscles. She'd
grown soft. Better than growing old.

Azula drew up short when she realized Zuko would be turning thirty soon. She needed to start
planning that gift, didn't she?

Villagers greeted her as she passed, and Azula nodded to them because she assumed that was
appropriate. She was surprised by their familiarity. "Halkarata!" one of the younger men called to
her.

In the old tongue, that was roughly 'wrestle with bear'. They'd been spreading rumors about her
little incident that morning then. She allowed a smile. "I like that name."

The boy dropped his knife in surprise, and his friends slapped him on the back and laughed.

The sailors on the ship were more formal; she was, after all, their princess. They paused in their
tasks to bow as she passed. Captain Lee alone had the appropriate camaraderie to greet her with her
title. He admitted her into his captain's cabin with a wary smile. "Princess, may I help you?"

"Are my parents aboard?"

"In their estate cabin, Princess."

She stepped into the hallway. The iron and steel had been coated with thick paint to ward off rust,
and they'd used a bright color to reduce the cave-like quality of the narrow hallway. After seeing so
much openness through the day, the color didn't help. The floor was covered in a woven runner
that had seen better days. Azula walked down the hallway and took the narrow winding staircase
up to the next level.

When she knocked on the estate cabin door, Iroh greeted her with a quick hug that surprised her.
By his expression, she'd worried him. "You heard about my little swim, then."

His smile was rueful. "Come, have some tea and reassure your mother you are alright."

The two estate cabins on the ship were the only places in the vessel that had wooden flooring. It
was so heavily polished it would probably never catch fire. The reds and golds of the room were
strange on her eyes even after only a day in the Southern Water Tribe. Azula caught sight of herself
in the mirror across the room and started. In this parka with her hair loosely clasped, she looked
like a much different person.

Ursa sat at the low table in the center of the cabin, her teacup already cradled in her hands. The still
waters of the bay apparently had eased her seasickness. "You're going to send me to an early grave
with all these brushes with death, Azula. I get a horrible pain right in my—"

"Yes, enough about your phantom labor pains. Believe me, it's not purposeful."

Iroh sat down beside Ursa and asked a pointed question. "When did you rediscover your fire?"

That surprised her. She'd expected to be peppered with questions about Ana and the polar bear dog
incident, not her lack of bending. She shook off her parka jacket and mittens in this too warm fire-
heated room and sat down across the table from her parents. "I haven't. Why would you ask?"

"Show us your hands."

Azula placed her hands on the table and spread her fingers. Her parents regarded them with
concentration, and Azula looked down as well.

She had a long raised scar across the back of her right hand where she'd torn it open arresting her
fall at the Western Air Temple. Her left hand had a few old training scars across her knuckles and a
burn scar that rounded her wrist. Ozai had given her that one. These hands looked the same as they
always had, aside from the dried whale blood beneath her fingernails. She frowned at her dirty
fingernails, surprised she hadn't noticed until now.

"No frostbite. At all," Iroh pointed out.

She sensed where he was going. "Hakoda was prompt with care."

"You were submerged in freezing water and left in the freezing air for some time, Azula. Are you
telling me you didn't use heatbending to warm your body?"

She hesitated. Her memories were semi-lucid after she'd been ripped from the water. She
remembered a conscious shift between being numb, then cold, then spreading her heat, but whether
it was physiologic or psychologic, she couldn't guess.

"You did heatbend?" Ursa squeezed one of her hands. "That's wonderful, Azula!"

"It wasn't conscious," Azula replied, far less certain than her parents. "I'm not entirely sure I
managed. I was a little delirious." She said the last scornfully even as she remembered Ana
snuggling close and whispering, 'You're warm', in that so cold sled.

"We should meditate together," Iroh said with more enthusiasm than she'd measured in him in a
long time. "We can work on your heatbending in the cold. Perhaps that's where we should have
started in the first place. The contrast may be what you need to see your own fire."

Azula sat at that table and looked between her parents and realized the absolute oddity of her
situation. They wanted her to firebend, and she didn't in that moment care. While the thought that
she might have used bending of some sort pleased her, she'd given up on her firebending long ago.
It wasn't worth this enthusiasm. She wasn't here to use the South Pole to regain her firebending; she
was here for Katara.

"I've been meditating and practicing katas and doing breathing exercises—attempting to bend—for
over ten years without any effect. Sharing meditation today will do nothing."

"Azula, we can—"

"Not today," she said firmly, albeit gently. "If my firebending comes back, it will. If it doesn't, it
won't."
Ursa's face tightened in disagreement, but Iroh wore a much different expression. He looked proud.
He squeezed her hand and cut off Ursa's protests. "Then, my daughter, that is what we will do.
Enjoy your time with Katara and don't worry about us."

He leaned over the table and kissed her forehead.

Katara was right, as she usually was; Azula should have left and gone straight to bed. Instead, she
fell asleep over tea and woke up to the soft sounds of her mother reading. She peeled her face off of
the polished wooden table with a wince. "Ow," she said in part jest as her muscles unfroze again.
"How long was I asleep?"

"Only a little while," Ursa answered. She got up from the settee to sit down across the Azula.
"What do you think about Katara's little girl? Are you alright with her?"

Azula rubbed her face and considered her answer. Now she could look at the situation a little more
objectively. Katara had hidden Ana, but only because of the distance between them. She'd
protected her little girl from what she'd assumed would be an absent mother. The sting was still
there, but Azula resolved that Katara would never feel that way again.

"Yes, I am. We resolved a few conflicts yesterday." Azula thought of the unique personality she'd
seen flashes of in just one day. Her next words were a compliment: "Ana will prove to be a
handful."

"I know you think I'm just nagging you about having children, but I think you'd be a wonderful
mother. I know how much you loved holding Tozin and Rina as babies. I would never want you to
miss out on that joy." Ursa took her hand with a hopeful smile.

"I have a daughter now," Azula pointed out in gentle warning. She hoped Ursa got the hint: Ana
would not be treated as anything less than Azula's child.

Ursa hesitated, but then she smiled gently. "Yes, you do. But you can have more." Ursa raised her
hands to ward off Azula's retort. "Think about it, please; that's all I ask."

Azula couldn't be irritated by that statement. She got to her feet and pulled on her parka jacket.
Ursa rounded the table and reached out to brush her fingers along the shoulders of Azula's parka.
"That's beautiful."

Azula felt a puff of pride that surprised her. "Katara made it."

"Really?" Ursa ran a finger along one seam. "Amazing. I had a hard enough time when I tried to
work with silk and linen. I can't imagine working with leather."

Rarely if ever did Ursa talk about her life in Ba Sing Se. Zuko had told Azula that he'd found Ursa
in a clothier shop. As a noblewoman, Ursa probably thought what she did there was demeaning to
her station. Azula treaded carefully now despite her curiosity. "Were you a seamstress?"

"Agni no," Ursa replied with a little laugh. "I couldn't sew a straight seam to save my life. I worked
for the seamstress. She was very good at what she did, but she couldn't read or write and couldn't
do figures. I balanced her finances and handled advertising and orders, which allowed us to move
from the outer ring of Ba Sing Se." Ursa shook her head. "What an awful city. You were right to
want to change it."

"Do you keep track of her?"

"You can be assured that I don't think of her at all," Ursa replied darkly, her eyes seeing something
other than Azula's parka. "I owe her a great deal, but my care is not one of those things."

Those years had been dark times for them all, apparently. Azula leaned to her mother and kissed
her cheek. Ursa went wide-eyed and then burst into tears. "My goodness," Azula said dryly. "I can't
say I've ever made anyone cry by kissing them."

"Oh, shut up." Ursa pulled her in for a tight hug. "You're a good woman. I'm proud of you."

Azula pulled back and cleared her throat. "Yes, well, before this becomes a bloodbath of teary
mother-daughter moments, I think I'll save us the indignity."

Ursa patted her cheek with a smile. "Go to Katara."

It was the best piece of advice that her mother had ever given her. A few minutes later, Azula
stepped out into the cold of the South Pole. Her internal clock told her it was late in the day, but the
sun was still well above the horizon. Her eyes were drawn to where Iroh and Kanna stood together
at the railing of the ship, looking out into the still waters of the bay.

Kanna saw her watching them. She didn't smile. "Come with me."

Iroh reached out and squeezed Azula's shoulder as he passed by.

Kanna took hold of Azula's elbow in a surprisingly strong grip as they stepped out onto the ice.
Instead of leading them towards the village, Kanna steered them parallel to the edge of the ice.
They were silent; the only sounds Azula heard were the crunching of snow under their boots and
the distant hubbub of the whale slaughter.

This was probably another test. She was far more worried about gaining Kanna's approval than she
had been about Hakoda's.

"My son worried you were keeping Katara as your sexual plaything," the old woman said dryly.
Before Azula could respond, Kanna continued. "I never feared that. Katara would never stand for
such a thing. She is a unique woman. I knew that for you to be her lover, you must see that too."

An endorsement? Azula waited for the 'but'.

Kanna turned them to face across the bay ice. In the distance, Azula saw the remains of the whale,
little more than a skeleton now. The giant skull had been separated from the other bones, and a
woman—Katara—swept her arms in a long roll, guiding the ocean to wrap around the skull to draw
it back into its depths…returning its soul to the sea. Azula fingered the ear bone in her pocket as
she watched the skull slip out of view. In the background, the village sat, quaint but merry, with
several of its huts giving off soft smoke from their fire pits. Beyond that, frozen tundra sparkled in
the sun.

"This is her home," Kanna said quietly.

"I know." She'd always known that. She'd always respected it.

Kanna squeezed Azula's elbow and continued, "This is her home, but she's unhappy when she's
here because she misses you." Kanna turned a long look to Azula, pinning her with her gaze. "And
I think when she's with you, she's unhappy because she misses her home."

Azula felt the sharp sting of Kanna's quiet disapproval. She'd been selfish, and it hurt to have that
pointed out.
Kanna patted her hand. "Good," she said quietly. She smiled. "I knew you would understand.
Come, it's time to go home."
 Propositions, proposals, and pronouncements

Azula started her day out helping the women of the tribe fashion tools from animal bones. She was
set to the task of grinding the edge of a hollow long-bone so that it formed an angle. She raised two
blisters on her hand by the time she was finished.

The women sitting with her paused in their quiet gossip to praise her efforts. "It's yours," one of the
older women pronounced. She was Makata, who had three sons she was fiercely proud of; one of
those sons had died in the war.

Azula looked at the bone in her hand and tried to imagine what it would be used for. "What is it?"

"It's a flesher."

That was a horrifying name. This wasn't the metal-tipped whip weapon that a Fire Nation prince
had made famous three hundred years ago. Makata guessed Azula's perplexity. "You strip flesh off
of fresh hides with it."

That made much more sense. Azula turned the new tool over in her hands. She had crafted it for
her own use by simple means to do a simple task, yet it invoked a perplexing surge of pride in her.
"Thank you," she said and meant it. Makata patted her shoulder kindly and sent her away to eat
lunch.

After a lunch of frozen whale blubber, she was shown how to craft fishing hooks from bone and
twine. Fishing line was attached to the sturdy bone end of the hook by a special knot, and the other
end of line was looped into a flat piece of bone. With her new fishing hook and line, she was sent
out to ice fish with the children of the tribe.

The children were apparently educated on traditional subjects in the morning and occupied with a
tribal task in the afternoon. It was a good system; the kids seemed to consider the coming chore a
treat. Little Ana was especially excited when she saw Azula. She took Azula's hand as they walked
along the icy bay and surprised Azula by chattering about her lessons that morning. Apparently the
little girl had been shy before because Azula couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Mimi, the young woman who had the task of chaperoning them all, used an auger to drill three
spaced holes in the ice that were only around twenty centimeters in width. The auger must have
been imported. It was a metal drill, ingenious and simple with two rotating handles that allowed
the girl to quickly drill through a meter of ice. Azula took over for the last three holes and was
surprised at the force it required. She hadn't realized Mimi was so strong.

"That's a lot easier than using a spear, but whoever used it last didn't resharpen it. We have two of
those but sometimes we fight over who gets to use them," Mimi told her with a shy smile as she
scooped the shaved ice from the last hole to display the dark waters of the ocean.

As they settled down at their ice fishing holes, two children at each—in Azula's case, Ana shared
her fishing hole—Mimi made sure all the children were ready. Apparently this was a common
activity because Azula was the only person uncertain about what she was doing.

Mimi made it a lesson as she talked about the seasonality of the fish, what kinds they could catch,
and where they could be caught. Azula gathered that sometime in the spring squid would swarm
along the bay and all of the villagers would go out at night with lanterns and jigs to fish up a
bunch. The children talked about it like it was a festival. Some of the older kids were also excited
about taking a trip inland in autumn to fish for char on frozen lakes.

Ana looked up at Azula hopefully and asked, "Can I go?"

She was helpless in that moment because she knew they'd probably be in the Fire Nation. So Azula
took the coward's way out: "We'll ask your mother."

Ice fishing proved to be an exercise in futility for Azula. In theory it was simple: drop the hook into
the hole in the ice, jiggle the hook, and wait for a nibble. Draw up to catch the fish in the hook, and
pull it out of the water quickly. What was simple in theory was almost impossible, even with Ana's
'help'.

Azula failed through the long afternoon. When she finally pulled out a fish, it was one of the
smallest catches. Mimi praised her anyway and spent a few minutes helping Azula identify it as
cod. This was a tiny cod by Azula's estimation. The cod fillets they served from the palace kitchen
were twice the size of this entire fish.

Despite Katara's apparent busyness, she rescued Azula from the chore in the late afternoon. The
children called goodbyes—Ana wanted a kiss and hug from Mommy and Azuwa, imagine that—
and Mimi took Azula's new fishing hook and line and promised to deliver it and Ana safely to
Hakoda's care. Mimi also offered a shy smile that probably had everything to do with Azula's
ineptitude.

"Catch anything?" Katara asked as they walked away from the bay.

Azula rolled her eyes. "A fisherman, I am not. Your three-year-old caught twice as many fish as I
did. Yet another chore I can add to my list of failures. It's hard to be a commoner."

Katara bumped their hips gently, but she smiled. She understood Azula's self-deprecation. "Well,
she has a head start on you."

"She's three. How much of a head start could she possibly have?"

Katara smirked and took Azula's hand and squeezed gently through her mitten. As they walked
through the village, the residents greeted both of them with familiarity. It was a close-knit
community, much removed from the association of servants, nobles, and royal family that Azula
knew. It wasn't better or worse; it was just different.

They walked by a large section of ice that had been cleared of tents and leveled. There were
vertical posts driven into the ice at the perimeter. Perhaps this was what Katara had been up to that
afternoon. There was a pile of wooden slats nearby, and several men and women measured and
chopped the wood. Hakoda looked up from the group and offered a wave and a smile. "Watch out
for polar bear dogs!"

Katara rolled her eyes, but she smiled. "We'll be back tomorrow morning, Dad."

"Be safe. You're watching out for an infant too."

That didn't warrant a response in Azula's opinion, but Katara made a rude noise in reply. She and
Katara continued on to where a small sled awaited them at the gap in the inland wall of ice. Katara
slipped into the harness attached to it and began to drag it.

"I can do that," Azula protested.

Katara's glare was sharp. "You're still sore."

"And you're exhausted."

"Not gonna happen." By Katara's stern tone, that was truth. She softened her pronouncement with a
smile and held out her hand for Azula to take it again. Hand in hand, they began their walk across
the ice.

They didn't talk much, but during their long walk, Katara pointed to a small flock of long-winged
birds that flew overhead. "Albatross. They roost in the mountains in the summer and bring fish
back for their young. They'll be migrating to the Earth Kingdom in a few months for winter."

"Do you eat them?"

"We eat everything," Katara said with a little laugh. "Sometimes a few hunters make the trip to
collect some of their eggs. It's a hard trip, and it can be a dangerous climb to their nests, but the
eggs are a delicacy. We can't take many either. They only lay one egg per season. They mate for
life."

"When I first came here, I didn't see what resources could sustain your people. This is actually a
very rich land."

Katara smiled but made no comment. Azula wondered if she'd missed something important in that
statement.

After a few hours of easy walking, Katara pointed out the two mountain peaks that had come up in
the distance. "Ice and Frost."

"How creative."

"Hey. It's not like they had much else to draw on creatively." Katara dropped the sled harness in a
signal that they had finished their journey.

Azula turned in a circle, surveying the land. Katara made a good point; all she saw was ice and
frost and sky. The ground was a flat horizontal line against the clear blue sky towards the north and
east, and to the west were a few soft rises of rippling snow. The mountains were the only
significant interruption in the southern horizon. The only break in the snow cover was their tracks.

"Did we come south?"

"Yes."

"Your father took me east, didn't he?"

Katara waved her hand in a so-so gesture. "Northeast on the fast ice."

Getting information from Katara today was like pulling teeth. Apparently Azula would have to ask
a question for every sentence of information Katara volunteered. "So we're over earth now?"

Katara looked inward with an expression of concentration Azula associated with healing. "Under
packed snow. I'd still consider the earth ice; it'll never thaw."

"You can feel permafrost with your bending?" Katara still managed to awe her sometimes.

"One of the perks of being a waterbender." She pointed at the ground. "Sit."

Azula obeyed. She didn't feel the cold of the ice through her parka. "Is the village over earth too?"
"Yes. We used to be a lot closer to the bay, but Pakku and Noakka moved it back during the war.
We have more room to grow now."

Azula settled her chin in her mittens. "But the ice over the bay…?"

"It's like the fast ice Dad took you out on. It rarely melts even in the summer. We get a lot more to
the northwest in the winter—which is when we actually hunt seals, by the way. The only time I've
seen the bay ice crack was when your brother charged his ship up through it."

"Zuzu can be childishly dramatic."

Katara's only reply was a smile.

Azula glanced around, uncertain about how exactly they could have a comfortable night on snow,
exposed to freezing winds. "Now that we're in the middle of nowhere, what will we do?"

"I'm going to build you a house, Princess." Katara produced a ridiculously flamboyant bow.

Azula laughed more at the gesture than the words. "This Princess can honestly say that's a first for
her. What favor are you attempting to curry?"

Katara popped her playfully on the shoulder but didn't reply. She bent down to shuffle around in
the bag on the sled and drew out an axe-like blade with a palm grip. Azula had seen another
woman use one and took a guess. "Ulu?"

"Mmhm. Dork."

The process was interesting. Katara used her knife to cut large blocks of hard snow out of the
frozen ground beneath them. She stacked them in a spiral around the pit she'd dug out of the snow,
and it ascended stably. The last block was clear ice that would allow some light inside the igloo.

"Why not use waterbending to build one?" Azula wondered as Katara placed the last block.

From inside the igloo, Katara said, "It would be cheating."

Azula couldn't begin to process that. How was using a birthright cheating? But Katara had certain
ideas, and she would only get frustrated if Azula pushed. It was an interesting process that Azula
itched to try out herself. For now, Azula sensed her help was not wanted.

Katara dug and cut out a path in the snow to widen the low entrance of the igloo. She'd chosen a
direction that blocked the wind that blew down the tundra. It was an ingenious little dwelling,
made in several hours.

After working inside the igloo, Katara poked her head out and motioned for Azula to join her.

Azula got on her hands and knees and crawled into the igloo. She removed her parka jacket and
carefully stretched out on the pelt next to Katara. She'd expected it to be colder than the outside,
but it was immediately apparent she was wrong. She was comfortable in her wool tunic and parka
pants in the chill. They looked up towards the transparent block of ice that allowed light into the
little dwelling. With the faint light, the white snow was a haunting blue. There was a certain
hushed quiet within the igloo, as if the ice absorbed their sounds.

"I like this house," Azula pronounced. "It's very economic."

Katara smiled, but she was abnormally subdued. Azula accepted her silence and closed her eyes,
enjoying the quiet and her lover's presence.

Eventually, Katara sat up and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out the hardy Fire Nation
teapot and used waterbending to fill it from her beaded water skin. She also pulled out a small pot
of frozen stew and heated them both with sweeps of her hand, filling the little igloo with the scent
of food.

"Cheater," Azula accused.

Katara made a rude noise. They giggled at each other childishly.

It was a luxury to sit on a polar bear dog pelt in an ice hut and share a simple meal with Katara.

Azula crunched on a piece of cartilage and fished out something that looked like an eyeball. She
scooped up some seaweed with it and took the bite. It tasted like fat and iron, and she had to
swallow whole the fibrous shell. There was a bit of flavorful fatty meat that she spent a minute
chewing, and she guessed it was stomach. There was as much meat as offal in this stew. The
flavorful taste was enough to offset the oddness of its consistencies. Katara had been feeding her
fish and the foodstuffs that had come from the Fire Nation shipment instead of the red meat that
her people enjoyed. If this was closer to what they ate on a daily basis, it was a good introduction.

Aware that Katara was watching her reaction, she asked, "What is this made from?"

"One of the hermits came into town with a seal to trade for some whale. This is made from the
seal. Usually we eat fresh seal raw, but I thought this would be easier for you."

Azula was completely diverted. "There are hermits in the South Pole?"

Katara nodded, tracing a finger over the hand Azula braced herself with. "There are a few people
who like to live by themselves. They'll come into the village every few months to trade what
they've hunted for supplies, but they keep to themselves for the most part. Dad and I try to go out
and check on them at least once a year."

How humbling to think that one person could exist in this harsh environment alone.

When Azula drank the last bit of broth in the pot, Katara handed her a small cup of something that
was definitely not a Fire Nation food. It was brown and thick and looked incredibly unappetizing.
Azula surreptitiously sniffed it. It smelled like pickled beets on first sniff; the second sniff
reminded her of the fluid her physician used to preserve specimens for his oddities collection.

Katara watched her expressionlessly. Azula took a hesitant bite. She bit down on the solid chunk of
whatever it was, and her sinuses cleared from the sharpness of vinegar. The glands in her cheeks
responded with a sharp spasm she usually only experienced when she ate something tart. Azula
wasn't sure she could take another explosion of vinegar from a bite and swallowed her entire
mouthful in a painful, burning gulp.

She blew her nose and blinked back tears.

Katara rocked back and howled with laughter. "The look on your face!"

"It's delicious," Azula said with a fake smile. She held out the bowl, resolving to feed Katara the
spiciest sauce she could find back in Capital City. "Much too good for me to eat it all. Here,
darling."

It took Katara a few minutes to contain her laughter. She wiped tears from her eyes and said,
"Thank you for trying it."

"What is it?" Azula washed her mouth out with tea and watched as Katara scooped out bites with
relish. She couldn't quite believe Katara was eating what she'd just sampled.

"Pickled sea prune. An acquired taste." Katara shivered pleasantly with the last bite. She leaned
over to kiss Azula, who placed her hand over Katara's mouth. She handed Katara her tea cup. "This
before you put your mouth anywhere near mine."

That earned a laugh. Katara stowed their used dishes in the bag. She stripped out of her clothes, and
Azula mirrored her, anticipating their love making. Katara flipped up a second long pelt and drew it
over her shoulders as she pulled Azula's hips into her lap. Oh… Azula loved this position.

Even in the cool of the igloo, Azula was on fire. She didn't have to suppress her cries in any sense,
not in the muting ice or the frozen tundra. Katara didn't either. It was so heady to hear her groan
and gasp and call Azula's name. Azula shivered in her orgasm and rolled to trap Katara beneath her.
She rubbed their bodies together and was content to kiss Katara until Katara was gasping in need
beneath her.

"Inside," Katara commanded.

Luxury and power and heat and wetness...Katara was everything to her. They moved together for a
long time, trading kisses and nuzzles and murmuring soft words to each other. Tonight Katara
seemed content to let her set the pace, and Azula enjoyed so softly coaxing her lover's pleasure.
There was no rush, not even to finish.

"You're so warm," Katara finally whispered. She clutched Azula's shoulders and gasped as she
came.

The quiet of the igloo seemed all the more peaceful as Azula lay in Katara's arms afterward. Katara
cradled her close and pressed soft kisses to her temple. Azula sighed and relaxed completely. There
were no demands out here at all, only peace and cold and love. She closed her eyes.

Azula stood on the hot beach. She heard the low hiss and shifting movement of a large beast
behind her. She knew what it was. She turned slowly, lifted her gaze, and looked into its sharp
golden eyes.

The force of its breath shook her shoulders. She fell back into the sand and lifted her hands,
exhaling harshly to coax enough fire to press it back.

"Azula."

She opened her eyes and focused on the white snow wall next to her face. Condensation dripped
down the inside of it. Katara's hand was on her shoulder. Her hair fell across Azula's face in a
sweep of pleasant scent. "What were you dreaming about?"

Azula sat up and shivered in the coolness of the igloo. She couldn't remember, but she felt like she
did after dreaming she could still firebend. What used to be screaming disappointment was now
quiet enjoyment that she'd experienced it, even if only in a dream. Perhaps it was sad that she
equated dreaming of firebending with dreaming of flying.

"Something warm," she said.

Katara's look was gentle but penetrating, even in the low light of the igloo. Azula was so certain of
what she was about to ask that she was surprised when Katara said, "Get dressed."

They dressed and crawled out of the igloo. Katara drew Azula onto the snow not far away. The sun
had finally set. In its place was something that Azula had read about and never imagined she
would see for herself.

The aurora was a single expanding line of misty green undulating across the sky like a massive
dragon. It was organic and beautiful and a perfect foil to the cold sterility of this environment.

It took her breath away. Katara watched her closely, and her lips stretched in a slow smile.

"What do you think causes it?" Azula asked her. Surely there was a legend from this so alien
culture. Katara looked up at the aurora too, and she smiled as she took Azula's hand. It was a
triumph to Azula that Katara wasn't wary as she answered.

"My people think it's the old whale spirits singing to all animals and people who are forced to live
on land. Their voices are too loud and powerful to sing out in the air. They'd crack up the ice and
level mountains. But they can do it like that." Katara nodded up to the sky. "It's a song to show us
they still exist and they still care about mortals."

It was a good legend. Azula looked up and saw what Katara had described. It made the aurora even
more beautiful. "A gift," she said quietly in affirmation. "Whales sing then?"

Katara nodded with an almost shy smile. "It's how they keep track of each other across the ocean.
Sound travels faster in water."

Azula had to kiss her after that soft expression. With her mouth still against Katara's, she asked,
"Have you heard whales sing?"

"Once a few years ago," Katara said quietly. Her eyes turned back to the aurora. "I needed some
quiet time so I went out to sea. I followed a pod of whales, and they kept breaching for me so I
went underwater. They sang for me then. It was beautiful. I couldn't stay under long. I had to
submerge to hear them, and that was hard to do for long."

What a marvelous way to use her bending. "What did they sing about?"

Katara bumped shoulders with Azula with a smile. "I don't know. Maybe they were happy to see
me. Maybe they wondered what a strange looking whale was doing swimming with them." She lost
her smile. "It was haunting…so mournful. But I think that was just because I couldn't understand
them."

Eventually, the aurora fluttered itself out, and Azula was able to speak about more practical things.
"I'm surprised you managed to get away. Your work is endless."

Katara shifted against her shoulder. "If I thought about all the things I need to get done, I'd never
have a moment to myself. I made time tonight. The tribe will still be there when we get back
tomorrow. You were right…I need to start trusting the others. Nema is a good waterbender, but if I
don't let her start doing the hardest tasks, she won't get better."

No matter Katara's calm words, Azula knew it hadn't been that easy. "What was the building they
were constructing?"

"A town hall." Katara was quiet for a long time. She swallowed audibly and said, "Hopefully we
can christen it with a happy event."
"Your grandmother seems to think a birth is a good omen. It would be rather messy though,
wouldn't it?"

Katara didn't offer a smile at Azula's joke. "I was thinking a marriage."

Azula's heart sped up as those words replayed in her mind. She looked over at Katara and watched
her reach into her parka. She opened her mitten and looked into Azula's eyes as she said, "I was
hoping a marriage."

In Katara's palm was a strip of dark silk. It had a carved circular centerpiece attached to the silk by
a loop of polished silver. Within the emblem, a curl of flame had been carved. The polished
material—bone?—had been dyed indigo, but the flame leaping from it was lightning blue.

Katara had made her a betrothal necklace.

Azula's throat closed with several warring emotions. Happiness won out. She couldn't speak past
her emotions and pulled off her hood to offer her neck to Katara. Katara nuzzled her ear as she tied
on the necklace.

"And you accuse me of being romantic," Azula managed to say.

"Yes?"

"That's a very silly question." Azula's voice trembled with happiness. "As if I would ever say no.
But if you insist, I'll tell you my answer: yes."

Katara laughed and kissed her.

This was happiness and contentment and everything Azula could want. When they crawled back
into the igloo to ward off the cold of the night, they pulled the heavy bear pelt over their heads and
lay entangled, clad only in their necklaces. Azula was too happy to sleep, and Katara seemed to feel
the same way. In this so still place, they were content to talk through the short night.

"What do you want most in the world?" Katara asked in the darkness.

That was easy: "You."

Katara rewarded her with a kiss against her skin. "I meant something you don't have." Something
about her tone hinted this wasn't a casual question. Katara's voice was sober as she coaxed, "You
can tell me anything, Azula."

She felt a shiver of unease at what that statement signified. But Katara had asked her what she
wanted most, and firebending was not the answer to that question. "Glory."

"What do you mean? Like war?" Katara's voice and her relaxation indicated there was no judgment
in the question.

"Not war itself…but all of the old stories of glory came from war—winning and losing alike.
Sacrifice and dignity in the face of certain death. It's not that I want to go to war for the sake of
war. I just wish…"

"What?"

Azula took a long breath and conceptualized the need that had driven her for much of her life. "I
want to be someone who isn't just a birth and death date in history analogues. I want to make a
lasting impression on the Fire Nation. I want to make someone in the future pause when they read
about me and know me for an act, like Fire Lords Yuza and Zo and Li. I want to deserve my
nation."

"You don't think you've done that?" Katara asked her. Her voice was soft in sadness, pity that for
once didn't provoke anger in Azula.

She smiled into the darkness despite her regret, thinking of what history she had made for herself
so far. "Well, I suppose I do have an entry: 'Princess Azula: conqueror of Ba Sing Se…loser of her
conquered city months later to her own father. Defeated moments before her coronation.'"

She realized she shouldn't have said it just as Katara's body stiffened. "Katara," she said quietly.
"You bear no burden in that."

"I wish it had been someone else."

"I don't," Azula replied firmly. "I know you're exceptional at everything you do. I was defeated by
the best waterbender that has ever existed. How is there shame in that?"

Katara exhaled a warm breath against her shoulder. Her voice was shy as she asked, "Do you really
think that?"

"Yes, darling."

After a few minutes of silence, Azula asked her own question: "What do you want?"

Katara laughed and echoed Azula. "You." After a moment, she presented the real answer. "I want a
family."

Of course. Azula stroked her fingertips along Katara's side, both appreciative and saddened by the
vast differences in their answers. She remembered Kanna's quiet words and asked, "Would you
want to live here year-round?"

"What?" Katara lifted her head. "You can't do that—"

"Ideally, would you want to?"

Katara was silent for a moment. "No. This is my home, but I'm starting to think of the Fire Nation
that way too. I've been thinking about opening a waterbending school in the capital, actually."

There was no hint of lie in those words. Azula took a long breath of relief. It was no sacrifice to
say, "So we'll make a life in both places together."

Azula's words were rewarded with a wet kiss. Katara was crying. "You'd do that for me?"

"For us," Azula said gently. "I want you to be happy. And I want to be happy. I think the key to
that is sharing our homes together. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realize it."

Katara sniffled against her shoulder, but her tears were happiness, not sorrow. Azula held her close,
glad that she could bring this happiness. When Katara calmed down, Azula asked, "What would
you have thought during the war if you'd known we would be here now?"

Katara brushed her fingers across Azula's breasts, provoking a shiver. "I would never have believed
it. Though looking back on it, I'm pretty sure I was attracted to you during the war." She started to
laugh. "I just didn't realize it then since we were, you know, trying to kill each other and
everything."

Azula laughed too, imagining any one of their fights during the war ending in a romantic
declaration and a kiss. Or sex. She probably would have surrendered readily. She had her own dig
though: "And defeated, I provided the perfect mothering outlet you needed."

"I'll mother you!" Katara blew a raspberry on her shoulder, causing Azula to jump and laugh.
Katara continued more seriously. "You were so vulnerable. I wanted to take care of you… You
needed it too; I don't care how much you pretended you didn't."

Azula, in turn, couldn't refute her words. She'd needed Katara's selfless care as much as she'd
needed her love.

Katara continued. "Living with you on Ember Island… Watching you do katas, swim, and wander
around on the beach half-naked… You have no idea how tempting you were. And you'd argue with
me even when we were getting along. Aang never liked to argue with me. He got to the point
where he would agree with everything I said just to avoid the argument. You, on the other hand,
always had—have your own opinion and don't mind voicing it."

"Why were you ever with him?"

Katara huffed. "I know how he must seem to you, but he's a good man. After the war ended, he
was such a good friend that I thought he would be a great boyfriend too. And what girl wouldn't
want the head-over-heels Avatar as her boyfriend? I assumed that I just wasn't attracted to him
because he was young. I thought it would get better. It didn't. And the sex…"

"Tell me."

Katara shifted up on her elbow, letting in chill from the igloo and a bit of light into their cocoon.
"I've never told anyone about this. I don't know if I should tell you."

"I told you about Chan," Azula said, partly teasing.

"You kissed him. And then you burned his house down."

Azula smiled, then sobered. "I won't speak of it."

Katara sighed and lay back down. Azula pressed a kiss into her hair and then took a breath of its
scent.

"It was just the natural progression, I thought. And we failed pretty miserably at it."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, not really. It was just incredibly awkward. At first I thought something was wrong with me.
Aang kept asking me to tell him how to be better, but I didn't know anything about sex. I didn't
want to learn either, and it became a game of avoidance." Katara's lips curled into a smile against
her skin. "But when I had sex with you the first time..."

That had been an experience. Azula still remembered their first time vividly.

Katara laughed. "That was fun. And you… 'I read about it'," Katara mimicked. "We had sex more
that first day than I had with Aang ever."

"It wasn't perfect," Azula admitted. "But it felt perfect at the time."
"Every time with you feels perfect."

Azula couldn't be blamed for taking advantage of that statement. "Well, I am perfect."

Katara bit her shoulder.

"Ow, you savage!" She rubbed her shoulder as Katara rolled away in laughter. "I was about to say
you were perfect too, but I may have to reassess that statement."

"Better not," Katara said indulgently.

"You are perfect."

"You're getting there."

Azula touched Katara's face and got her attention. "You are perfect, Katara. Every part of you,
good or bad, is part of you. And that makes you perfect."

Katara's smile was obvious by her tone, but she poked Azula's chest with a stiff finger. "That
makes absolutely no sense. But I'm going to remind you that you said that next time we argue."

"I said you were perfect, not right."

Katara gave a mock cry of anger, then fell on her with a kiss. Her mouth descended to Azula's
throat, and she nuzzled the necklace that lay there. "You'll be my wife," Katara whispered with
uncharacteristic possessiveness that sent a shiver down Azula's spine. "Mine."

It had been that way all along.

No one was surprised to see Azula wearing a betrothal necklace when they arrived back at the
village the next morning. She was hugged by more people that morning than had hugged her
during her entire life. In fact, everyone seemed to know exactly why they were building the town
hall. When Sokka arrived with a handful of Kyoshi warriors on a small Kyoshi ship the day after
Katara's proposal, she wondered if it was by chance or if Katara had anticipated this.

She watched from where she scraped seal hide with her new flesher as the shivering Kyoshi
Warriors strode across the ice with carpentry tools and their own barrels of supplies. Sokka was the
only male of the group, but he stood out more because of his blue parka than his gender.

As Sokka walked with the group of Kyoshi Warriors, he glanced across her face. Azula enjoyed
watching his eyes flick back in an obvious double-take. As he stared at her in surprise, he began to
grin. Sokka started a loping run across the ice, his arms outstretched. Azula watched him approach
in horror that magnified with his cry, "Sista!"

She sidestepped him, sparking laughter from the teenage boy, Kuvak, who had been helping her
with this task.

Sokka puffed his bearded cheeks out in annoyance. "Come on, I see that necklace. We're family.
Give me some love."

Azula flicked her eyes from his face to his open arms. She heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes, and
accepted his hug. When he grunted and lifted her off the ice, her voice was sharp in command.
"Put me down."

"Okay, okay, sheesh." He let her go and promptly threw an arm over her shoulders. "You and me,
we have to talk about this marriage thing. You good, Kuvak?"

The boy nodded, and Sokka steered her aside so that they walked outside of the ice wall that
protected the village. Azula looped her flesher on her belt so she wouldn't lose it. "I can't wait."

Her acerbic tone didn't lessen Sokka's enthusiasm. "It's my responsibility to make sure you're
informed, since you don't have a tribal family member."

"What do you need to tell me?"

He pulled her close for another half-hug. He was smiling beneath his partly-frozen beard. Perhaps
the sea spray had caught it.

"It's all pretty simple. We like to get the ceremony out of the way fast to get to the party after. First,
you have to have a vow. It should be something emotional about how much you love Katara and
why. Make it good; you only have one chance to say it."

A public pronouncement of love. She wasn't entirely sure she could do that. A Fire Nation
marriage required nothing but standing in place for hours. "And?"

"After you say your vows, you and Katara will drink out of a two-mouthed pitcher. I almost
drowned Suki when we got married, so keep that in mind. For you, since you're marrying the
waterbender."

Azula tried not to imagine how many mouths had already touched the item that she and Katara
would apparently be drinking from. "It would be a rather miserable experience to drown on my
wedding day." She paused and considered a question that had just occurred to her. "Is a same-sex
marriage common here?"

"I don't know about common. It happens sometimes—once when I was a kid two men married—
but no one really cares one way or another if that's what you're asking. Down here, we're allowed
to marry for love so long as the two people can support each other and the tribe. The Northern
Water Tribe is about arranged marriages...not that they'd protest anything Katara does."

The Fire Nation hadn't seen a difference between the legitimacy of opposite and same-sex
marriages since the Age of Enlightenment almost a millennium ago. Maybe it was related to the
great push for gender equality at that time. That had been a bloody affair. To prove their equality,
noblewomen and their female servants had rebelled in a coup that had completely destroyed the
capital. The coup had ended successfully when the royal princess challenged the Fire Lord, her
younger brother, to Agni Kai and had won.

Since then, women were allowed to serve in the military and become officers. That right and
service had automatically included the right to vote, own land, and choose a spouse. Succession of
the throne thereafter came by age, not gender. With all those rights, marriage became choice, not
arrangement...at least if one wasn't a noble daughter.

She'd taken for granted that not all nations were as progressive as her own.

"Are you going to marry her in the Fire Nation?"

"I suppose so," Azula said airily. "I've never been opposed, but the planning is going to be a
massive headache. Though I'm sure my mother will do all the planning if I make enough terrible
suggestions."

"Somehow I don't think that's going to fly with my sister." Sokka snickered and patted her back.
They rounded the inland opening in the protective ice-wall, and a happy shout rang from the group
of children playing there.

"Azuwa!"

Azula reached out to catch Ana, who was hurtling towards her as fast as a three-year-old could run.
This little girl must be a headache to all the young adults charged with keeping track of the kids in
the village during the day. She wished she had the same boundless energy to run everywhere
without a care. Azula caught Ana's wide hood and flipped it over her face.

"Where did Ana go? I could swear I heard her…"

Ana giggled under her hood and reached up to flip it back and peer at Azula. Azula met her eyes,
raising her eyebrows. She spoke dryly, "You are a chameleon mole, aren't you?"

"What's a chamemum mowe?" Ana did an admirable job of pronouncing the words.

"Don't break anything," Azula said, gathering a perplexed look. "Chameleon moles hide in the trees
and change color to match what surrounds them. Camouflage."

"Camofwage," Ana repeated carefully.

"Just like polar bear dogs lie down in the snow and put a white paw over their black nose. They
camouflage themselves and make it very difficult to see them. They do so to make sure curious
little girls don't try to pet them."

Ana processed this. She took hold of her hood and dragged it over her face. Azula asked, "Where
did you go?"

Ana giggled from inside her hood.

Sokka leaned back on his heels with his arms folded. His bearded face had taken on a pout. "Ana,
you didn't even say 'hi' to your Uncle Sokka!"

She noticed him for the first time with a gasp of delight and raced to him for a hug and a kiss.
Sokka picked Ana up, clearly intending to monopolize her. She grabbed his parka hood and yanked
it down over his face. "Camofwage!" she shouted.

Sokka laughed and rescued himself. He distracted Ana from her new discovery when he gasped.
"What's that in your ear?"

He pinched her ear gently and presented a bauble in his hand. Ana's big blue eyes went round, then
her mouth curved in a shy smile as she accepted the tiny wooden carving. There was no doubt that
it would be going into her little treasure chest in Katara's hut.

Azula understood how Katara had come to love this little girl so much. She especially understood
when Ana held out her arms in request that Azula take her. Ana gave her a kiss on her cheek and a
strong hug around her neck. It was very hard to ignore the emotional response she had to that
embrace.

Occasionally, she felt herself waver on whether having a child was worth the horrors of conceiving
and birthing that child. This was one of those times.

"Princess!"
Of course Ty Lee would be one of the Kyoshi Warriors here. Azula turned to the person who had
spoken with that so familiar voice. "Hello, Ty Lee."

Ty Lee had cut her hair short sometime in the last few years. It stuck out from her head at odd
angles, but the cut complemented her. She grinned, gave a big sniff against her runny nose, and
shivered in the cold. Her eyes went to Azula's necklace. "Congratulations!"

It was a truthful statement. "Thank you."

"Who is this?" Ty Lee grinned at Ana.

"I'm Ana!" the little girl in her arms said for herself, ever independent. "Azuwa, can I go?"

Azula set the little girl down and watched her run back to rejoin her companions. She made sure
the chaperone saw Ana before she turned back to Ty Lee. She was curious to know how Ty Lee
had been faring in the Kyoshi Warrior organization. "How are you?"

Ty Lee brightened at the question. She produced an even larger grin and said, "Oh, I'm really—"

"Yo!" Suki stood on the floor that would be the raised bottom of the town hall and tapped her thigh
with the flat of her axe. "Stop slacking off, slackers. If you want to get married sometime this
century, Princess, you better grab a hammer and start helping. Sokka, quit flirting and get over
here!"

Ty Lee sighed wistfully. "She reminds me of you sometimes, Princess."

The glare Azula leveled at her was severe, but Ty Lee only giggled.

Katara rescued Azula from Suki's tyranny that evening. Azula had successfully blackened two of
her fingernails with a hammer, but they were her only accidents. When Katara turned them towards
the bay and the Fire Nation steamer settled there, Azula guessed their purpose. "Breaking the news
to my parents?"

Katara looked tired as she answered. "As if they don't already know. Iroh gossips more than all the
elder women here combined."

The thought of him sitting weaving baskets with the group of three old women of the village made
Azula smirk. It was just like Iroh.

She'd begun to get used to the white and blue of the environment. It only made the small colored
decorations within the huts more brilliant. It was beautiful despite the unchanging sense of it. As
the Fire Nation was gold and red, the Water Tribe was blue and white. Now Azula turned her eyes
across the wide blue and white bay and smiled. "My mother is going to double the candidates she
suggests."

"Candidates?"

"For fathering all the little grandbabies she wants me to birth." Azula remembered every vapid,
pretty firebending nobleman Ursa had chosen with some ire.

Katara's expression took a peculiar shift. "She what?"

Why hadn't she anticipated Katara would be upset by that information? Azula quickly backtracked.
"It's only an annoying way to let me know she wants us to start having children, otherwise known
as nagging. My mother is particularly good at it."
Katara still frowned. "How long has she been doing this?"

"Long enough to be annoying. I've been ignoring her terrible suggestions out of self-preservation."

Katara stopped their progress with a hand on her arm. She met Azula's eyes with a penetrating look.
"Do you want to have a baby?" Azula hesitated, and Katara's stare went wide in shock. "You do?!"

"I would be willing to consider it. It will take a lot of planning." She squeezed Katara's hand. "And
that planning can wait for now."

Katara nodded slowly, still looking at Azula like she was seeing her for the first time. That look
shifted into a cheeky smile. "How many kids do you want, huh, Princess 'I refuse to have a parasite
in my body for nine months'? One, two, three, five?"

"Your counting skills are deplorable."

"Four then," Katara said impishly.

"My willingness just dropped to zero." Katara, of course, continued throwing out impossible
numbers. Azula rolled her eyes and pulled Katara towards the ship to cut off her teasing. The few
sailors on the deck looked miserably cold. They bowed, and Katara's face shifted in obvious
discomfiture at their formality.

The halls of the ship were hot on Azula's skin. Katara swept off her hood and opened her parka
jacket, and Azula mirrored her. They knocked on the estate cabin, and Iroh ushered them in. His
eyes flickered over her betrothal necklace, but his face remained neutral when he saw the symbol
carved into it.

"Finally," was Ursa's first word as they sat down. "That is why I came."

Azula was startled. Did everyone guess that Katara would ask her to marry her?

"It's only taken ten years," Iroh said with a teasing smile.

"When are you giving me another grandchild?" Ursa demanded.

"In probably another ten years, Ursa." Iroh's words provoked a gasp of outrage and a sharp
warning: "Don't encourage her!"

"And you wonder why I wasn't in a hurry to get married," Azula pointed out to Katara.

"Oh hush, missy." Ursa filled Katara's teacup and pointedly didn't extend that favor to her own
daughter. She pushed the plate of fresh fruit in front of Katara. "You'll need to start arrangements
for a ceremony in Capital City as soon as we get back."

"Why don't you plan it all?" Ursa looked like she'd just been given a gift, and Katara shot her a
glare. Azula quickly retracted her statement. "Nevermind. A momentary fit of insanity prompted
that illogical statement. I'll just ask Kota to do it."

"Has she had her baby yet?" Katara asked, apparently appeased.

"She looked like she was about to drop it on the floor when we left. Did you know, she was one of
the servants I banished on the eve of Sozin's Comet?" How odd—and light—it made her feel to be
able to speak about her insanity without shame. Iroh watched her with blatant curiosity. Azula
continued on with some pleasure. "Obviously I wasn't in my right mind, but I'm surprised it's taken
me this long to realize it."

"Why did you banish her?" Ursa asked, her brow furrowed.

"I banished everyone," Azula clarified. She waved a hand, vaguely amused at her own stupidity.
Then, with a smile, she reached into the fruit basket and selected a cherry. "In Kota's case, she
served me a bowl of cherries. One cherry had a pit."

All three of them looked at her with a mixture of pity and shock. Azula rolled her eyes and ate the
cherry. "I assure you, it all seemed quite logical at the time. As did my demand that Lo and Li fight
an Agni Kai."

Iroh sputtered into his teacup.

"Good riddance," Ursa muttered.

"Those poor old women," Katara gasped, though she betrayed her real feelings with a grin that Iroh
mirrored.

"Don't waste your pity. They aren't firebenders so they were banished along with everyone else.
Too bad, that would have been hilarious. I'm a little shocked they're still alive, actually. They must
be pushing a century." She sighed. "The palace was wonderfully quiet, at least until you visited me,
Mom."

Ursa's expression went dark. Even though Azula had found peace with her insanity, it didn't appear
her mother had. Azula quickly changed the subject. "In any case, I've given Kota a leave of
absence until she's fit for serving again. My household has probably already fallen apart."

Katara reached over the table for a slice of melon. She curled her lips in a mocking sneer. "I think
you have to be in it for that to happen."

"I resent that."

"I still can't believe you can't do your own hair."

As if that had anything to do with anything. "As you've pointed out, it's fine. It slides out of every
hair tie I've ever put it in."

"Maybe you should just shave your head," Iroh suggested. "I enjoy not having to worry about
hair."

"No!" Katara and Ursa both said sharply. As if Azula would ever entertain such a notion.

Their tea continued with similar inane conversation until Katara couldn't suppress a yawn. She
worked long hours today after their late night the night before, and she needed to get to bed. Azula
excused them, but Iroh held her back. Katara and Ursa sensed he wished to talk to her alone and
walked outside.

"I'm proud of you, Azula," he said quietly. He met and held her gaze.

"I haven't done anything," she pointed out, amused at his ever-sage advice.

"You've accepted yourself." He squeezed her hand with a smile, and Azula had to take him more
seriously. "You've found your way."

"Was I lost before?"

His smile in reply was gentle. "You've stopped chasing dragons."

She understood his meaning. In the last few years she'd accepted the past, and with it, all of her
losses. All along, and he'd been right. Azula returned his squeeze gently. "Everything I want is
attainable. You'll sit with Mom during the ceremony, as my father?"

He cleared his throat and went a little teary-eyed. "Yes. Now go before your mother freezes to
death outside."

On the walk back into the village, Azula glanced over at Katara and asked a pointed question for
the first time. "Do you want to get married in the Fire Nation?"

"Yes."

She sighed, consigning herself to that long, drawn-out affair. "I wish you would just tell me these
things."

The town hall was finished after four days of hard work. It was an insulated rectangular wooden
building on small stilts that looked foreign compared to the small round buildings of the tribe.
Kanna, Ursa, and a few of Katara's cousins forbade Katara or Azula from entering the building.
When Azula inquired, Katara explained they were getting the interior ready for the ceremony.

"Tomorrow?" Azula asked.

Katara nodded. "Midday." She hesitated. "You don't have to say a public vow if you don't want to,
Azula. I know that sort of thing is really private for you."

She looked at her lover. "Are you saying a vow?"

Katara nodded and gave her a quick goodbye with a kiss. Well then, Azula would just have to suck
it up. It couldn't be that much different than giving a speech.

The day passed quickly. Azula 'chaperoned' the young children of the village through the morning,
which meant she sat for their lessons on the different types of ice. She would never have guessed
how many descriptive words they had for it; each term was discrete and important for hunting,
survival, and understanding the direction of the ice flow.

After a quick lunch of weathered char from last season, she was coerced to join Sokka and Hakoda
for seal hunting. Apparently it was tradition, though Azula didn't understand why the three of them
would sit around a seal hole silent and motionless on the day before her wedding.

They started the trip out with a spear throwing 'competition'. Obviously Azula was at a
disadvantage, but her aim got better with every throw. Sokka was as good as Hakoda, though
Hakoda wouldn't admit it. She realized this was just another lesson.

It had been interesting learning about the gender roles of the Southern Water Tribe. There was a
trend, but the roles weren't strict. Women hunted and fished, and men would weave and prepare
kills and tan leather as well. There were so many things to do—fascinating things—and they all
served a purpose to help the tribe.

This was a good life. It felt like vacation but she ended up as busy here as she was in the Fire
Nation.

There were certain tasks she liked better. This was an activity she enjoyed. Azula took three long
strides and pushed the spear over her shoulder. It sailed in an arc, turned down, and slammed into
the packed snowman that served as their target.

"How are you so good at everything? It's so unfair," Sokka said with a good-natured groan. "I think
we're ready. What do you think, Dad?"

"Let's go then," Hakoda said. He was still stiff with her, but he wasn't hostile anymore. To Azula's
surprise—and her growing distrust—they left the spears within the village walls. Sokka carried a
leather sack over his shoulder, and that was their only burden aside from the cudgels the two men
carried on their belts.

As she suspected, 'seal hunting' was another cover. They walked a few kilometers outside of town,
stopped, and sat down in the snow. Sokka and Hakoda shared a leather bladder of liquor. Sokka
handed it to Azula when they had each taken a gulp. She took a sniff and turned away with a
shudder.

"Don't tell me, sea prune?"

"Most versatile fruit of the South Pole."

"The only fruit of the South Pole." She handed the bladder back, distracted by the fat snowflakes
that were fluttering down from the sky. This was only the second time it had snowed since she'd
arrived. "I don't drink."

"Like hell you don't." Hakoda put the bladder back in her hand firmly. Sokka scoffed. "You're too
chicken to take a gulp of sea prune spirits?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have no fear of alcohol. I hate the way it tastes."

"It's not supposed to taste good," Sokka pointed out superciliously. "It's supposed to make you
drunk."

"I doubt a hangover is a good way to enhance my wedding."

"It's tradition," Hakoda said.

"You do realize alcohol increases blood flow to the extremities, increasing the chances of
hypothermia?"

The two men kept staring at her; their glares were feigned but pointed. She'd never live this down.

Azula tipped the skin back and took a mouthful. She swallowed what felt like liquid fire and
coughed afterwards. Hakoda and Sokka began to laugh uproariously. Azula rubbed her neck, which
ached. A column of heat rose from her stomach to her face. She felt like she could breathe fire and
certainly belch it without issue. Her sinuses tingled and tears rose to her eyes.

"That is disgusting."

"One more!" Sokka encouraged.

Azula took a second swig. She didn't cough this time, and the swig didn't hurt. It tasted even worse
the second time. "I'm finished. You two are free to become inebriated, but don't expect me to drag
you home."

Hakoda elbowed his son with one eyebrow raised. "Did she really just say 'inebriated'?"
"That's just the way she talks, Dad."

Azula rolled her eyes.

They laughed and each took a long swig. She would have been disgusted by sharing saliva with
them, but that alcohol was so strong it could probably disinfect a komodo rhino mouth. Hakoda
pointed over Azula's shoulder suddenly. "A polar bear dog!"

She turned sharply, and the ice beneath her feet and across the horizon seemed to shift under her.
She landed hard on her hip and turned a glower to the two men who were rolling in the snow
laughing at her.

"I will tell Katara that you've mistreated me."

"You'll have too much fun to do it!" After his ominous pronouncement, Sokka handed her the skin,
and she took another gulp, shuddering. Wait, why had she just done that?

At some point, they had the bright idea to wrestle. Azula was inordinately pleased when she got
Sokka in an elbow lock. Then Hakoda grabbed her by the hood, and the two men swung her
between them. When they released her, she skidded down a slope of snow and ice and was
laughing by the time she'd spun to a stop.

Hakoda and Sokka seized her arms, this time to lift her.

"We're ready?" Hakoda asked.

"We're ready," Sokka replied.

"We're ready," Azula pronounced gravely. Then she thought to ask, "For what?"

They gave her another gulp out of the liquor skin instead of answering and seized her arms. The
three of them began walking… Well, she wasn't sure where they went or how long it took, but
when they got there, Sokka tossed the bag he carried on his shoulder onto the ice, reached inside,
and handed her a particularly aromatic fish.

"Watch me first, okay?"

Azula stared at the fish in her hand. "I'm not eating this."

"Make sure she doesn't eat it," Sokka told Hakoda.

"Don't tempt me," Hakoda replied.

He took off towards a group of chattering otter penguins. Where had they come from? Sokka
crouched low at their perimeter with the fish in hand. He shooed away a small animal and allowed
a large fat one to grab the fish in his hand. Sokka seized it and muscled it onto its belly. He took
three quick strides to where the ice dipped into an incline and put his knees on the otter penguin's
back. His shout didn't seem to bother the flock of animals as he sledded down the incline.

"You want me to do that?" Azula asked Hakoda.

Hakoda grinned as he grabbed her arm and dragged her forward, and in the confusing sequence of
events that followed, she was skidding down the incline after Sokka on the back of a fat otter
penguin. She shrieked as her balance shifted and she rolled across the hard snow. By the time she
rested still on her back, she was roaring with laughter. Her throat didn't hurt but her voice went
hoarse.

"I'm doing that again," she told Hakoda, who had followed her on his own animal. He slapped her
back with a wide grin. "That's the spirit!"

They continued penguin sledding until the flock decided their supply of fish wasn't worth the effort
and beat a retreat into the ocean.

She was aware of everything that happened as it did, but when she got back to Katara's hut later that
day, Azula was startled to realize she didn't exactly remember how she'd gotten back. She ducked
into the low entrance and fell sideways into the hut.

Katara looked up in alarm that shifted into shock. "I can't believe it. They actually got you drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Azula retorted. She considered lying where she was, despite the butt end of a spear
digging into her ribs. "I am inebriated. I have to say, if I was forced to subsist on sea plums—
prunes, whatever, I would take the spirits over the pickle. Pickled. Have you been penguin
sledding? I thought it was cruel at first, but they really will do anything for fish. That was quite
fun. Quite."

Katara's lips quirked like she was holding in laughter. She helped Azula sit up and moved her in
front of the warm coal pit. She handed Azula a big skin of water and stripped her out of her parka
jacket. "Drink."

Azula took a gulp as Katara sat behind her. She noticed they were alone in the hut. "Where's Ana?"

Katara tugged at her hair in what Azula realized was an attempt to braid it. "All of the little girls
are with the Kyoshi Warriors for tonight."

"They start their propaganda early." She took a second gulp of water and burped. Katara's hands
stilled in her hair.

"Did you just belch?"

"Of course not. Princesses do not belch. I hiccoughed."

Katara pressed her forehead to Azula's shoulder and rocked with laughter for much longer than was
strictly necessary.

"You shouldn't laugh at me. We're getting married tomorrow."

Katara sighed. "I get the feeling you won't remember it in the morning anyway. Keep drinking or
you'll be useless tomorrow and we won't be getting married."

That was unacceptable. Azula took another gulp, and Katara resumed her activity. She relaxed as
Katara's fingers combed through her hair. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on Katara's touch
and the warmth of the smoldering coals in front of her. The heat was a discrete force in this room.
Its energy was a comfortable truth in her belly. The coals pulsed bright orange in time with her long
breaths.

Katara began a second braid. "Anyway, their little camp isn't propaganda. It's education. All the
girls here love it. Sokka leads a group for the boys too."

"It was fun dressing up as them during the war." She laughed and waved a hand as she remembered
it. "My goodness, Ba Sing Se just opened its doors to three girls in face paint. All that time Iroh
and Ozai tried to get inside and playing dress up was all it took." She abruptly pictured both men
dressed up as Kyoshi Warriors and began to laugh harder.

"How did you take over the Dai Li?"

Azula was diverted. She made a rude noise and waved her hand. "It was easy. Just pretend to
stupidly admit our real identities, meet the man in charge, and…" She giggled at the delicious
memory of Long Feng's simmering anger as he settled into a bow. "Long Feng was such a pathetic
fool. All I had to do was tell him he'd bow to me, and he did."

"How?"

"How what? Oh, how did I convince him? There are people like Long Feng who are designed to
bow…to follow and serve. 'Milord, what are your orders'." She sketched a bow. "Some of them,
like Long Feng, pretend they're more. And then there are people like you and me who are destined
to lead. They know it and we know it. Long Feng just needed a reminder. I was that reminder. So
he got on his knee and bowed."

Katara's hands stilled in her hair and resumed after a moment.

Her mind bounced around with vague thoughts of Ba Sing Se. She'd envisioned using it as a model
for implementing a literacy program, one she'd hoped to use in the Fire Nation. And then she'd lost
Ba Sing Se. Oh well. At least they were working on literacy in the place that mattered.

That reminded her, "You should meet with Laza when we go back…so we can have books printed
for the children here. You must have good stories to use. Like penguin sledding. That was really
fun. Much better than turtle ducks."

"Turtle ducks?"

"Ba Sing Se." Azula waved her hand, drawing the connection.

"Your mind is unfathomable." Katara sighed for some reason. "Would they really print a storybook
about the Southern Water Tribe?"

"Oh, yes. I never thought to suggest it. Laza would never ask. She's terrified of you."

"What? Why?"

Azula laughed as she thought of coy Laza. "Do you know, she pretended to be sultry and coy when
we first met. When I asked her if she was propos…prosop…trying to seduce me, she said she
wouldn't dare, that you'd strip her of her blood and leave her dust." She was abruptly curious. "Can
you bend the fluids inside a person?"

Katara's hands fell to her shoulders and tightened. "It's evil, Azula."

"You can but you don't," Azula answered for herself. A new thought occurred to her. "Could you
have done that to me during the war?"

"Azula!" Katara gasped. Her hands tightened and pulled at Azula's hair.

"Ow." Why was Katara ashamed?

Katara's grip quickly loosened. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I could. The only times I did were during
the full moon."
Azula didn't believe for a minute that Katara couldn't. "You really are amazing."

"Bloodbending is just as evil as you think energybending is."

Evil perhaps, but it still pleased her to think that Katara could do it if she needed to. "How
interesting. Fire has lightning, water has blood, and earth has metal." She ticked them off on her
fingers.

Toph Bei Fong enjoyed demonstrating the latter ability on her rare visits to the Fire Nation for
private meetings with Zuko. Zuko tried to keep those closed door sessions about his utopian city
hush-hush, but Toph Bei Fong didn't know the meaning of the word discretion, and her mentions
of Republic City hadn't gone unnoticed. Azula had no doubt that Zuko wanted to be there for the
city's establishment and growth, but his responsibilities as Fire Lord precluded any significant
travel.

Katara returned them to their earlier conversation. "Do you really think they would print a
storybook about a Southern Water Tribe girl?"

"Oh, yes. The nobles're curious about this culture. The commoners would find you so exotic. You
are exotic." She leaned back to place her head against Katara's shoulder. Her shift resulted in a
kiss. "Everyone wants to know more about you."

Katara's smile was soft. Her eyes seemed darker in the low light of the hut, and her gaze swept over
Azula's face tenderly. "Everyone just sucks up to you."

"Well obviously. But they respect you now, Katara." Azula was distracted in sudden memory and
started to laugh. "Ha! When I took my rice terrace trip, the oh so honorable Lord and Lady hosting
me made it quite clear they would be happy for a combined visit from us."

Katara raised an eyebrow in question.

"Apparently they own an enormous bed." She held her arms out wide to demonstrate. "Which they
have left open in invitation."

"What?"

Azula laughed. "I can't say I've ever been prosop…that word is very hard to say today for some
reason. I haven't had a sexual offer by a married couple. I was shocked; I almost laughed in their
faces. That would be a bit rude, wouldn't it?"

"They asked you to have sex with them?"

She nuzzled Katara's neck; she didn't heed the anger in Katara's voice. "I certainly didn't accept.
But they made it quite clear they would love to meet you…and 'meet' us together."

"I used to wish you'd get at least a little jealous. But you think if someone wants me that's a
compliment to you, don't you?"

"It's a compliment to you. You're desirable. Everyone should know that, and they should all
acknowledge it. If they don't, they're dumb...and blind too. It doesn't mean you'll sleep with them."
She was silent for a beat. "I do get jealous. I'm jealous of every moment you spend apart from me.
I want us to be together always...everyday, every moment."

"We'd kill each other," Katara predicted.

"No," Azula protested. "We'd fight. And then I'd apologize. And we'd still be together."

Katara kissed her gently even as her expression shifted to something Azula had trouble
interpreting. She put pressure on Azula's shoulders until she sat up again. Katara continued to work
on Azula's hair in their comforting silence. She realized she hadn't told Katara she loved her that
day.

"I love you."

Katara kissed her neck and continued her gentle ministrations.

Azula's eyes were heavy and she was so relaxed she was surprised she hadn't fallen asleep. Yet she
wanted, needed Katara to know. "I love you so much. I know I never say it enough."

Katara patted her shoulder. "You don't have to say it. I know."

"I love you more than anything. Your voice, your eyes, your mouth…"

"I can't believe it." Katara sounded incredulous as she cut off Azula's list. "You're a lovey drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Azula protested. "But I do love you."

Fire Nation marriages were structured around processions: procession of the groom's cohorts, the
bride's cohorts, the groom's family, the bride's family, the Fire Sage, the groom, the bride. Et
cetera ad nauseam.

The Water Tribe had no processions at all. Azula and Katara stood together at the entrance of the
newly built town hall wearing the same clothes they'd been wearing all week. Their only
ornamentations were the braids in their hair and their necklaces. Together they greeted each guest
before they entered the building. Family and friends alike were allowed to embrace or kiss either
one of them.

Everyone was welcome, and everyone who was able came to the ceremony because they loved
Katara. People trickled in bit by bit. There was never a line to enter the new hall, but there was
never a time in which they had to wait long for another guest to arrive. Almost every guest brought
food, and some even brought musical instruments.

Azula watched Katara as much as she watched the people who they greeted. The elaborate beaded
braids in her hair were beautiful, and her pretty smile never slipped. Every time Katara looked at
her, her smile softened. Azula took pleasure in Katara's obvious happiness and realized she shared
it.

At last, Kanna ushered the two of them inside. Katara held Azula's hand and pulled her to the
center of the room where a small low table was set for them. Everyone was seated around the
edges of the large room. Ursa and Iroh sat near the side of the wall beside Katara. When Azula
faced her consort, she easily saw her parents over Katara's shoulder. They held hands and offered
smiles. Sokka, Hakoda, and Ana sat on the opposite side of the room where Katara would see
them. Azula glanced over at them and was surprised by Hakoda's wide smile. He wagged his
eyebrows at her.

Bizarre.

Azula was startled, but Katara sputtered into laughter.

Kanna sat down across the table, and Azula's mind went to more important things. The hubbub of
conversation stilled when Kanna raised a hand.

"Today we celebrate the marriage between Katara, daughter of Hakoda and Kya and my
granddaughter, to Azula, daughter of Iroh and Ursa and great-granddaughter to Avatar Roku."

A murmur of surprise went up from the guests. Azula herself was surprised. Ursa or Iroh must
have supplied that information before the ceremony for that particular introduction. It would make
sense to avoid using Azulon and Ilah; they both had won decisive victories against the Water Tribe
in their lifetimes.

Kanna smiled as she asked, "What are your vows?"

The Southern Water Tribe really did get to the meat of the ceremony quickly.

Katara faced Azula and took her hand. Whatever apprehension Azula had about such a private
exchange in front of so many other people melted away when she looked into Katara's eyes. Katara
was smiling at her tenderly, and Azula realized she was smiling too. This was for them as much as
it was for the guests.

Katara spoke first: "You told me once that even if a man flies as high as a dragon, he'll never reach
the sun, but it's still worth trying to measure each step to the immeasurable. We've been taking
those steps with each other little by little through the years. Every step we take makes me believe
we've reached the sun…until you take my hand and lead me a little closer. I can't describe how
happy it makes me that we'll keep taking those steps together for the rest of our lives."

Azula blinked twice to clear her eyes. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. All of her public
speaking experience meant nothing in this moment. She squeezed Katara's hand in her own and
held her eyes. She focused on Katara and spared no thought to the other people in the building with
them.

"We were enemies before we were anything else. The last day of the war, the day of Sozin's
Comet, I turned lightning against you to kill you. Every day I think about what would have
happened if I had succeeded. I would be Fire Lord, the greatest firebender in history, and I would
have brought the Fire Nation infinite glory. I would have fulfilled every desire I ever knew. Every
day I think of what I could have gained…and I'm so thankful that I failed. One day as your wife is
worth more than anything else I've ever wanted, and I will never feel any other way."

Katara yanked her into a hard embrace, and Azula managed to gather herself by the time Katara
pulled back to kiss her. Azula almost got lost in that kiss, but laughter rang out when Katara didn't
let her go. Kanna cleared her throat, and Sokka said, "Psst! You're not finished!"

They laughed as they separated and wiped their eyes. "He's just hungry," Katara announced with an
embarrassed smile, prompting more laughter.

Kanna waited until she had their attention. She smiled as she handed them each a blue-dyed cup
full of water, and she carefully placed a double-spouted painted jar on the table in front of them.
The jar was worn with age but painstakingly cared for. Symbols of water rippled over its blue-
painted surface, and the two handles gushed from the jar like waterfalls. Azula wondered how
many hopeful hands had held those handles.

"Each spouse brings love and energy and spirit into a marriage." Kanna nodded.

Katara squeezed Azula's hand, and Azula returned the grip. They carefully poured the water in
their cups into the wide opening in the top of the marriage jar.

"These essences mix until they are indistinguishable from each other. They cannot be separated
ever again. Drink to seal your joining and become married."

Katara placed her hand on one handle, and Azula took the other. They smiled at each other as they
lifted the jar together, placed their mouths on each spout, and drank a mouthful.

Immediately, the attendees shouted and clapped in delight.

And just like that, they were married. It shouldn't have made a difference, not those few minutes
they'd just spent in ceremony, but Azula felt it. By Katara's long, happy look, she felt it too.

Kanna took the cups and jar with dignity and whisked them away. Sokka had mentioned that the
water would be gifted to them to commemorate their marriage ceremony. Ten years ago, Azula
would have laughed her head off at the thought of such a silly gesture. Now she was grateful for it.
She never wanted to forget the feeling of this day.

There was little transition between quiet ceremony and rowdy celebration. Many types of food
were distributed, including several seaweed dishes and a few sea prune concoctions that Azula
avoided. Iroh and Ursa must have donated some of their food stores because there was also rice
and fruit and vegetables and wine.

Captain Lee had donated the rest of his bottles of his brother's nonalcoholic drink. He flashed his
golden tooth as he passed around cups for the children. Azula took great pleasure watching the
children of the village try their first sip of fizzy fruit juice. For her part, Ana took a quick sip, too
busy watching Iroh tell a story to pay attention. Her eyes went huge, her face screwed up, and she
smacked her lips. Now she turned her attention to her cup; she took a bigger sip. This was
accompanied by dawning realization, then a giggle and a big smile that reflected Azula's own
humor.

"Is it good?"

Ana nodded vigorously.

"What is it?" Katara asked.

Ana pulled her cup back possessively. "It's mine!"

Katara was appalled, and Azula held down her laughter. Ana really liked the drink. She was
appropriately contrite when Katara scolded her, so she didn't lose the privilege of drinking it. There
was only enough for all the children to have one cup so it was just as well.

Azula was sampling an interesting seaweed dish when Sokka sat down next to her and offered,
"Sea prune spirits?"

Azula shuddered in the face of his grin. "It's better than the pickled kind, but only because it makes
your tongue go numb."

Katara snickered against her shoulder, likely remembering Azula's resulting behavior. Azula
mostly remembered her aching headache this morning. She didn't think she ever would drink
again, all things considered. It was fun at the time, but she'd betrayed a bit of herself with her
inhibitions lowered. At least she'd done it with people she trusted.

"You're very talkative when you're drunk," Katara wheedled. "And really giggly."
"Yes, yes," Azula muttered. She twined their fingers together and smiled despite herself.

"I know, right?" Sokka shook his head. "Dad and I couldn't get her to shut up on the way back. The
whole time it was, 'Katara does this' or 'Katara likes that' or 'I love Katara because…' Sheesh, she
thinks you're perfect."

Azula's face went hot. She didn't remember that at all. No wonder Hakoda had looked so smug
during the ceremony. Katara laughed at the sight of her face, and Sokka snickered. "Aw, did I
embarrass my new little sister?"

She shot him a glare. He wagged a finger. "Nope, you're not scary anymore. I've seen you penguin
sled. And you're family."

"Goodie."

Iroh settled down next to Azula and handed her a pipa. He held one himself. He also handed her a
small container of opiate extract. "Congratulations to both of you," he said with a gentle smile.

"Thank you." She took the bitter mouthful of the opiate extract without complaint. This was
another activity she sensed was important to the tribe. They loved singing, whether good or bad,
during their chores or in ceremony. Azula needed to get used to the same thing.

"Oh, you're going to sing." Katara pulled Ana into her lap and shifted away to give Azula room to
tune her pipa.

"Shall we sing 'The Lonely Dragon'?" Iroh suggested.

Despite the song's name, it was a funny little ditty about a dragon that couldn't keep a master. It
was a cumulative song: each verse added a new line about another rider on the dragon's journey. In
the end the dragon decided to take a nonbender master cook and lived his days happily stoking his
new master's kitchen fires. It was a good song for this group of people; by the third verse they
understood the structure of the song and sang along with Iroh and Azula until they reached the next
rider.

She and Iroh must have made an interesting duo: the princess with the rough voice and her father, a
man who missed as many notes as he hit. Despite that, the villagers laughed as they listened or
sang along, and the children were dancing happily in the center of the hut through the song.

After that, Iroh coaxed her to sing a traditional marriage song in the old Fire Nation language. It
had a spicy tune that Azula enjoyed, and whatever the nationalism the words communicated
couldn't cause any anger among people who didn't understand the language.

At this volume, that was about all Azula's voice could handle. She was applauded, and Iroh
continued strumming his instrument as the guests settled into conversation.

Later in the afternoon, Hakoda sat down next to Azula. He offered a smile and went so far as to
take Azula's hand. "Hurt her, and you'll regret it," he said, but he wasn't in the least bit intimidating
when he started to grin. "I'll make the trip to the Fire Nation and tell everyone there your every
dark secret."

"It's not kind to threaten your new daughter-in-law the day that she's married." Azula sighed
haughtily. "And no one would believe you, I assure you."

He laughed and shook his head and settled his instrument in his lap. It was a key-violin, shaped
like a longer, thicker version of a traditional violin. The bow was short, and instead of the
traditional fingering of violins, this instrument had keys that would strike and hold the strings.

Everyone quieted as Hakoda drew the bow across the strings. The traditional Water Tribe
instrument produced rich tones, and Hakoda was very good with it. After a short, haunting melody,
he began to sing in the old Water Tribe language. The words paralleled the changing ice and the
unchanging sea to the ever-changing tribe and the unchanging power of the tribe's community.

Azula didn't realize she'd begun to cry until Ana gently touched her face. She offered a smile to
soften the worry in the little girl's face. Where had those tears come from? Katara pressed closer to
her and drew Azula's head against her shoulder. She accepted the embrace and allowed herself to
relax in the company of so many other people. These people were family. They were to be trusted.

Many happy hours later, the final guest trickled out of the town hall—Sokka picked up Ana, who'd
fallen asleep in Azula's lap, and declared she would be sleeping with her aunt and uncle that night
—and Azula and Katara were alone for the first time since that morning.

She took a moment to look around the town hall. There was a long rug that ran down the room.
Two fire pits sat on either side of the rectangular interior. Several columns supported the ceiling in
two rows. The polished wooden floor was cool but not too much so. The guests had all cleaned up
a little at a time as they left, and the big room didn't look much dirtier than it had that morning.
"This is a well-constructed building."

"Dad's wanted to get it up for years. It's nicer than I'd hoped. Thanks to you and the Kyoshi girls."
Katara wrapped her arm around Azula's waist and sighed happily. "Two weeks ago, I was in such a
dark mood. And now I'm so happy."

Azula nodded, marveling her own change in mindset from her constant low-grade worry Katara
would leave her to current certainty that that would never happen. "I'm happy too."

Why should she need more than this in her life?

 Chasing dragons

They were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on the wooden support of Katara's hut.
Despite the cliché about the general frenzy of a wedding night, Azula was almost too happy to
want sex. Not that they wouldn't make love. Sokka had promised Ana would not be brought to
them in the middle of the night tonight. He'd mentioned being terrified of seeing his baby sister 'in
flagrante delicto'. He hadn't pronounced it right, but Azula had been kind enough not to mention it.

At the sound of the knock, Katara's brow furrowed. She glanced at Azula, who shrugged.

"Come in."

Sokka stuck his head in the hut and peaked in at them through his fingers. He heaved an
exaggerated sigh of relief, but something about his manner was off. "Phew. I was afraid I'd
interrupt something that would scar me for life. Gran Gran wanted me to tell you that Pakku wants
to talk to you—both of you."

Katara's hand tightened on Azula's. So that was the reason for the lines of worry around Sokka's
eyes.

The sun was still bright as they walked across the village. There were only a few people out, and
they smiled and waved.

The first thing Azula noticed when they ducked into Kanna's hut was the heavy scent of incense. It
brought an uncomfortable emotional response to her: a memory of the screaming agony and
waking nightmares that had plagued her during her bouts with pneumonia. Her physician had
burned this incense to open her lungs and calm her. Now as she smelled it, panic rose and she felt
her lungs close.

Katara squeezed her hand, and Azula took a healthy breath. She wasn't sick; she wasn't weak. She'd
recovered. There was no reason to fear this smell.

This building was much closer to a house than any other in the village, probably a statement to the
great respect Kanna had earned from her peers. There was even a small room cut off from the
general room by a flap of leather.

Kanna looked up from the warm coals. She smiled and motioned them closer. Katara, then Azula,
accepted a kiss from her. Her smile was tight with sadness. "He wants to speak to both of you."

Katara ducked under the leather flap and Azula followed her. The smell of a sour body, age, and
incense were stronger here.

Pakku was a thin body in a pile of sleeping furs. His facial hair was white and thin, shaved into a
neat goat-trim. Despite his smell, his face and hair were clean. Azula realized that Kanna lovingly
tended to this man, shaving his cheeks and washing him every day when he was unable to.

Pakku opened his eyes and turned to look at them. Katara took his hand. "Pakku," she said clearly.
"How are you feeling?"

His smile was weak but real. "I'm a happy old man, knowing you're finally married. It only took
you ten years." He turned his head to Azula and held out a hand. She took it. His palm was dry and
his grip was surprisingly strong. To Azula's surprise, he said, "You're Iroh's daughter."
"How do you know my father?"

"We are of the White Lotus."

"I see." He had just earned her respect for that fact. The White Lotus was an elite organization.
He'd betrayed himself as a powerful man. It came as no surprise that Iroh was one of them too.

His grip tightened slightly, and his gaze was steady. "You love Katara?"

"Yes."

"Take care of her."

"When she lets me."

He smiled. "Damn hard thing with such a headstrong woman, isn't it?"

His eyes lost focus for a moment, then he released Azula's hand and turned back to Katara. "Live
your life, Katara. Make yourself happy. Don't make the same mistake I did."

What did that mean? Katara nodded wordlessly and blinked out a few slow tears. "I love you,
Pakku," she said quietly. "I'm sorry that I couldn't help you."

Pakku smiled. "Come now. You've kept a sick, crotchety man comfortable. Cared for me like a
granddaughter. That's how I think of you…as my granddaughter."

Katara's shoulders trembled as she held down more tears. She nodded and kissed his hand, then his
cheek. "Grandfather Pakku."

His smile slowly spread across his face. "You make me a happy old man. Now go enjoy your
wedding night. Try not to keep your neighbors up."

Azula had to respect an ill man who kept such a dry sense of humor.

As they walked in the quiet evening, Katara's tears continued. Azula wasn't sure why she was so
sad. Sokka and Kanna's manner had been dark too. The old woman had sent them away rather
sharply when Katara had offered to sit with her. "Why are you crying? He seemed better than you
described."

Katara shook her head. "You've never tended to someone dying."

Azula waited for the explanation.

"There's a…rebound. A person can go months on their deathbed, then for one day be so lucid.
Usually it's a sign that they're ready to move on. To die."

Katara was already grieving for the man. She wished she could take the pain away, but this was a
part of who Katara was.

"Surely you don't blame yourself."

Katara shook her head with a rueful smile. "I used to think I could heal anyone and anything with
my waterbending. I looked down on your physician. Who needs poultices, herbs, and incense when
I can just use some water and tweak a little chi? And then…" Katara shivered and drew closer.
"Then I sat there, water in my hands, ready to heal the wound through your throat, and I realized I
had no idea all the structures that were there: nerves, muscles, bone, cartilage, veins, arteries,
lymph nodes. I'm still surprised I didn't kill you."

"You saved my life," Azula said, not liking Katara's words.

"Your physician did just as much as I did. Even with his help, I couldn't fix you." Katara smiled
tightly. "That made me a better healer, realizing it. Your physician taught me just as much about
healing as any master waterbender. And even knowing as much as I do, all I can do for Pakku is
keep him comfortable."

Azula squeezed her hand, sensing a heavy loneliness in her lover…her wife. "Do you want me to
get Ana?"

Katara's nod was weak. Azula kissed her gently. "Go home. I'll go get her."

So then, on their wedding night, she and Katara held each other fully clothed and listened to the
comforting sounds of Ana's sleep. Azula didn't let herself fall asleep until Katara had, but it took
her wife a long time to find peace.

Pakku's funeral had much the same structure as the wedding had. The ceremony was solemn, with
many of the tribe members stepping forward to speak good words about the man who had passed
in the night. After his burial at sea came quiet communion, sharing of food, and subdued laughter
and stories that gradually escalated into a party.

Kanna grieved quietly, but there was also relief in her manner, which she explained partly with her
words before Pakku's body was given back to the sea. "We had many happy years together. I'm
glad you've found a better place to be now. Don't stray too far, Pakku. I'll find you when I pass, and
we won't part again."

Azula was surprised that Katara didn't speak. Instead, Katara reached out for her grandmother, and
they hugged each other close and cried quietly in each other's arms. When Azula heard Katara
murmur to Kanna, she realized whatever Katara had to say was only for her grandmother.

Iroh did give a few words, provoking quiet laughter despite the sadness of this ceremony. "Pakku,
you are the only other man in this world who also enjoys crushed liquorish bark tea. We did not
know each other well, but we shared that simple truth that is the greatest between two old men:
exquisite taste in tea. I will think of you every time I drink it. Enjoy your rest and try out all the
news teas for me."

They dropped his body wrapped in weighted cloth into the ocean, where it sank to its final resting
place.

The town hall saw its second gathering in as many days. Kanna retired quickly, likely to grieve in
private. She was a strong woman; she had to be to raise her grandchildren alone during the war.
Strong women like that didn't often share their emotional burdens. Azula knew that well; she'd
married Katara.

She was a little surprised that Katara didn't retire herself. Instead, they stayed in the town hall
while food and alcohol were passed around and stories were told. Some of the stories involved
Pakku—Katara described meeting the man, much to the enjoyment of the tribe who knew both
individuals well—but many stories did not. Perhaps it was more about the spirit of community.
Pakku's passing was a celebration of his life, and any man or woman that was a part of this
community was celebrated by laughter and happiness.

Ana sat with Katara for much of the afternoon. As little as she was, she seemed to sense Katara
needed comfort. She was as good as a rambunctious three year old could be in such a setting.
Eventually Katara coaxed her to go sit with her uncle. Sokka sent them a grateful look across the
room when she snuggled in his arms. Suki patted the little girl on the shoulder and gained a shy
smile.

Azula had learned a great deal about Katara's community and in turn about Katara since her arrival
the week before. She learned even more through that day with all the stories they told. Stories were
of foreign things: hunting, ice dodging, dog sledding, animal spirits, and the aurora sky. There
were also stories of very familiar things: courting, drunkenness, love, coming of age, and family.

Azula's favorite legend told that day was of Rakka, a great icy serpent that coveted the temperate
lands of the ancient world. Rakka used her considerable power to throw her icy scales across a
small piece of land, breaking it apart from the rest. Triumphant but weak, she crawled ashore on
her claimed island to regain her energy. But the land was too hot for her. She melted onto it. Yet
when it floated to rest close to the cold southern pole, Rakka's home, her essence refroze, and her
fierce prideful spirit remained to guard this land she had claimed.

It was the perfect legend to explain how this land and its people came to be. The Southern Water
Tribe was proud of their home, and they trusted this inhospitable place to provide the resources
they needed to thrive. This was not a place of poverty; it was a place of richness.

Perhaps it was no great surprise that Azula was asked for a story. Azula glanced at the people
around her and realized with all she knew about Fire Nation history, she had not one story that was
suitable for children. Fire Nation legends involved murder, sex, betrayal, and war. It wasn't
appropriate for today. "I'm afraid Fire Nation history is rarely appropriate for mixed company."

"How do you train a dragon?" one man offered with a grin. Maybe he thought of the song they'd
sung the day before.

Now that she could talk about. "It depends on the dragon. Dragons were like bearded cats, as
contrary as that statement sounds. If they were handled soon after they hatched, they were fairly
docile. They would choose who would ride them of course, but it was more a matter of feeding and
attending to the dragon."

She smiled. Ana was watching her with wide eyes. Another interesting dangerous animal. "But
feral dragons… They were a different sort of animal. It's no wonder in ancient times only the
greatest firebenders ever rode a dragon. Firebenders and dragons alike share a love for battle and
fire. That love of battle and fire was how a firebender became a dragon rider: by showing the
dragon they were not only worthy but stronger.

"The longest recorded fight between dragon and firebender is said to have lasted four days. The
firebender was one of my ancestors, and his dragon's descendant was ridden by my great-
grandfather Sozin hundreds of years later. The man, Zin, and his dragon, Gore, started a wildfire so
hot it scarred the eastern ridges of Flail Island; nothing grows there to this day. It's said they slept
with one eye open to wait for the other to begin their battle anew. They exchanged fire, fought
tooth and nail, and by the end of it they were so exhausted they slept against each other.

"And so when Zin woke the final time, he was taken upon his dragon's back, and his dragon flew
him high enough to see the Fire Nation as if on a map. Legend says they just kept going, but in
reality, Zin returned to the capital and seized the seat of power from his cousin. He reigned for
almost eighty years. When he died, his dragon set his funeral pyre alight with his breath and lay
down on it with him."

She was surprised to see Katara was crying quietly. She didn't think the tale was particularly sad.
Azula put her arm around Katara, and her wife settled against her shoulder. "That was a happy
ending," she told Katara, who began to laugh despite her tears.

In the early evening, Hakoda was drawn into the center of the room and persuaded to tell a tale.
Everyone stopped their conversation and turned to the center of the hut. Azula realized he had been
saved for last because he was the best story teller. She knew he was their chief, but she still had
precious little idea of his responsibilities. Maybe this was one of them.

Hakoda considered for a moment as he looked around him. "What will we hear today?"

"Halkarata!" came several shouts.

"I didn't actually wrestle with the bear," Azula murmured to Katara, who hushed her.

Hakoda glanced at them both in hesitation that surprised Azula. Then she realized he must have
guessed. Katara had been hinting at the truth about Azula's firebending though. What harm was the
reality of this story, especially when Katara must already know that Azula didn't use fire against
the bear?

Whatever Hakoda saw in her face made him accept the request. He cleared his throat. "Halkarata,
it is. It all started when I decided to take my new daughter out on the fast ice to show her our
ways."

"Actually, you were trying to scare me off," Azula butted in.

He shot her a glare as laughter echoed. "I'm the one telling this story."

"You certainly have an artistic license. I'm waiting for your story to end with taking tea on the hot
beach of the South Pole with a kindly old polar bear dog."

"Shh," Katara hushed with a laugh. Azula raised her hands and settled back to listen.

Hakoda hunched his back and began a swooping walk between the two fire pits. He was playing
the part of the polar bear dog, and he did it well: curling his lip, baring his teeth, and roaring. He
went on all fours and rubbed his head against Ana. She giggled, "Gampaw!"

That prompted more laughter before Hakoda managed to get into the story. He described feeling
very similar terror to Azula's seeing the bear stand in front of Ana. "Ice in my veins, no breath in
my lungs. Ana standing within reach of a man-eater. I didn't know what to do.

"But Azula did. When my new daughter saw the bear, she didn't hesitate; she didn't think. She had
no weapon and no time to get one. So she put her feet to the ice and ran!"

He mimed her. "She put her head down low and ran as fast as the wind."

He reared back and raised his arms, spreading his fingers like claws, and he roared. "The great bear
reared to strike…" He lunged at a group of young girls, and they shrieked happily.

"And Azula put her shoulder down and…" He lunged with his shoulder down and lurched into a
mimed strike. "And slammed into the great bear like—" He slammed his palms together in a loud
clap. That same group of girls shrieked again, probably just for fun.

"I've never seen anything like it. The great bear, as big and as mean as any I've ever seen, reeled as
if struck by another bear, not a woman! It fell back like a walrus!" He flopped back onto his side
and swung his arm around. "And it swung its great paw! Azula's leg was caught as she fell, and
down she went, once again a woman. A lone woman on the ice with a great bear full of rage. It
lunged forward to bite!"

He lunged and snapped his teeth, invoking another set of girlish squeals. "Ana was away, in safety
for the moment, but I still had ice in my veins. I was too far to throw my spear still. I was certain
the bear would bite deep into Azula's body and take her spirit. But my new daughter didn't go that
easily.

"The bear snapped." He mimed it again. "And she kicked it in the head! Once more!"

He lunged and snapped his teeth again.

"And Azula's foot landed true and broke its jaw! She killed the bear with her bare hands, for he
would never again hunt or eat!" He twisted his mouth and stuck his tongue out one side. "The great
bear's jaw was unhinged, and its tongue lolled out. But it still roared! It knew it would die, and
such a black-hearted man-eater only wanted revenge before it passed."

He roared.

"And its great paw swung! My daughter-in-law was no match for a great polar bear dog paw. She
rolled and cupped her head, but the great paw struck her back so hard she skidded across the ice
like a penguin." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Straight into the seal hole!"

There were gasps. Everyone was clearly enjoying the story, and Hakoda was relishing it. He was
certainly making her out to be a great deal cleverer than she'd actually been. Azula didn't remember
much except the polar bear dog's drooling mouth.

"I threw my spear, and the gods guided it into the bear's black heart. I snatched up Ana and carried
her with me as I ran to the seal hole. I prayed to all the spirits I knew that my hand would reach
down and find Azula. If I lost her, I would lose my daughter.

"I shucked off my parka as I ran and reached!" He made a great gesture, miming plunging his hand
into the seal hole.

"At first I felt nothing but cold and water. But the water spirits kept my fingers feeling and strong,
and when I closed them, I caught her wrist! The spirits strengthened my hand, then my arms, and I
pulled her out."

He grinned happily. "The best catch I've pulled out of the sea yet!"

The drama had fallen to humor. Laughter rang out, perhaps in part relief.

"And so, I gained another daughter, kept my own, and kept my granddaughter."

Several villagers turned to Azula and patted her shoulder and shook her hand. Katara's hand found
hers and squeezed, then tugged. Azula understood the cue and rose, following Katara out into the
evening sun. Instead of turning towards her hut, Katara led them out onto the bay ice.

"I'm going to ask you something," Katara said quietly. She was pale and sober, and she didn't look
at Azula as she spoke. "And you're going to tell me the truth."

Even after accepting that this might happen, Azula felt the cold flush of fear. This was not a
conversation they needed to have the day that Katara lost a man she considered family, but Azula
wanted it over with no matter her own fear or Katara's certain hurt.

"Yes," Azula acquiesced quietly.

"How long has it been since you've been able to firebend?"

"Longer than you think."

"In years," Katara said, still so quiet.

"Twelve." She was surprised by the weight that lifted from her shoulders with that truth. She
heaved a shaky sigh of relief at her admission and waited for Katara's reaction.

Katara stopped walking; her grip on Azula's hand tightened. She took a controlled breath that she
exhaled in a steady white cloud. "Twelve ye—" Katara cut herself off to tightly say, "Thank you for
finally telling me."

"You're angry."

"I'm very angry," Katara said quietly. She dropped Azula's hand and her fist clenched. "Twelve
years. You accepted an Agni Kai challenge knowing you couldn't firebend. I can't believe you!"
The volume of her voice had risen steadily, and Katara stopped to take another controlled breath.
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "I promised myself I wouldn't overreact, but I thought this was
from your injuries. I thought you were protecting me… I can't believe you accused me of not
trusting you. Twelve years."

"I'm sorry." What else could Azula say?

"Why? Why hide this from me?" Katara stiffened and turned to her sharply. Instead of anger, there
was fear on her face. "Did Aang do this to you?"

"No."

Katara's shoulders relaxed and then squared again as she demanded, "Tell me what happened."

As if it were that easy. Azula felt a touch of anger even in the midst of her strange melange of
emotion. "Nothing happened. If it had, I would have something to blame other than myself. I can't
firebend because of my own failures."

Katara met her eyes. Her anger was great, but it was a slow simmer, not her usual sharp anger.
Azula would rather shouting than this. "Something must have happened between me chaining you
and you losing your bending. Tell me what it was."

"That isn't why—"

"Tell me!" This time Katara shouted. It was an ultimatum.

Now Azula had to take the steadying breath. "There's a museum under the Royal Palace. The
defeated generals who didn't die in honorable combat have bits of themselves remaining there for
posterity. It's an old tradition: the removal of fingernails and hair. I was placed in prison afterwards.
And every day all I could think about were my failures."

"You mean they…they cut your fingernails?" Katara said, once again pale.

Surely Katara couldn't still be that naive about Fire Nation customs. "They cut my hair. They tore
off my fingernails. Clearly both grew back."
Katara made a noise of pain, shook her head, and put her hand over her mouth for a long moment.
"Where was Zuko?"

"He was busy," Azula said in quiet warning. "He's not to blame. Neither are you."

"How long was he busy?" Katara asked, her voice strained.

"A few months." Azula hedged that. She didn't want to add to the horror in Katara's face. The
reality wasn't as bad as it sounded: a bit of pain and a long, long time to stew on the worst day of
her life. "When I returned to the palace… My mother told me I wasn't crazy. I thought maybe I did
deserve my firebending again. And when I reached for it…" She shook her head. "Nothing."

Katara began to cry, but it was a slow wash of tears. This was a bad time for this unhappy
revelation. This conversation hadn't gone at all like Azula had assumed it would, and for the first
time in a long time she realized Katara might take Azula's failure on her own shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell one person who defeated me so readily that I was even more pitiable?" Azula gave a bitter
laugh at the thought. "I wanted your respect, even those first days on Ember Island. I started the lie
for pride. Then it propagated because I knew how angry you would be. And since then… It's moot.
I knew it would hurt you to know that I've lied this long, and there was no point in bringing up an
impossibility."

"I am hurt. I'm scared too. You could have died under the ice. You could have lost your fingers to
frostbite. I took that for granted." Katara turned towards the hazy line of the ocean on the horizon.
She seemed more sad than angry now. "It didn't make any sense to me. I saw the bear pelt was
whole, and Ana only talked about you tackling the polar bear dog, but Gran Gran told me when
they took you out of that sled you were warm to the touch."

"Possibly I was able to heatbend."

"Then you feel your chi?" Katara turned back to her, her expression hopeful.

"No," Azula admitted. She opened her hand and exhaled, and there was no echo of energy, no fire,
and no warmth. She produced a rueful smile, but Katara had turned away.

Katara was silent for a long time. Every moment of that silence strung Azula's fear out further until
she felt she would snap. What would she do if Katara wouldn't forgive this? She wanted to pull
Katara into her arms, but she was afraid of a rebuff.

Finally Katara said, "I'm very angry. And I'm hurt. I'm sad for you too." Katara took her hand with
a tight smile, and Azula shivered in relief. "Let's go to home. We need to figure this out, and I don't
think we'll do it standing out here all night."

Azula knew better than to say there wasn't anything to figure out.

They walked through the village in silence. A tall figure paused when he saw them. He had a
sleeping child on his shoulder. Sokka smiled tightly, and Katara reached out for a one-armed hug.
She kissed Ana's sleeping face. "Don't let her stay up too late."

"I think we're all ready to conk out." Suki said, shivering in her parka. She offered a sad smile to
Katara. "I'm sorry, Katara."

They hugged. When Sokka pulled Azula into a one-armed hug, she didn't protest it. Suki smiled as
she reached out to rub Sokka's shoulder. "Come on, big guy."

In their hut, Katara pulled down her Fire Nation lamp and set it on the floor. Azula guessed the
reason and smiled at the thought. Gently, she said, "I've meditated on more candles and lanterns
than I can count."

"This is a demonstration," Katara refuted sharply. She shuffled through the many storage
containers in her hut and pulled out a long slow-burning match. Azula removed her parka jacket
and sat down obediently.

Katara raised the wick on the lantern, and the light from its fire spilled across the hut. At this angle,
it cast long shadows from their figures. "This was you during the war."

She lowered the wick until it snuffed. The hut fell into darkness with only the glowing coals
providing light. In the darkness, Katara spoke. Her voice was soft but firm. "I think this is you
now. I know every part of your body better than my own. There's nothing wrong with the flow of
your chi. Your body's strong again. So how can we light your fire?"

Katara put the match in the coal pit, and it began to glow from the heat providing it. When it
caught fire, she relit the lamp, and its light spread merrily through the hut.

Azula admitted, "Every technique I've tried has failed. I may have been close after the coup
attempt. And then Ozai…"

"Ozai," Katara murmured bitterly. "Because of me."

"No—"

"Yes. He tried to kill you because of me." Katara didn't look at Azula as she said that.

"You aren't to blame," Azula said sharply.

"I blame him," Katara said just as sharply. "I hate him so much for what he's done to you." She
stood up to replace the lamp on the ceiling. Her eyes remained on the warm fire within its glass for
a long silent minute.

Finally, Katara said, "I should have guessed the truth, but it was too easy to believe. Servants
always did everything for you. Why would you waste your fire on something trivial like lighting a
lamp? I wondered if you'd just gotten lazy and let it go. I thought I must have seen you firebend at
some point, right?" She laughed ruefully. "You're Azula. Firebending is so much a part of you in
my mind that I took it for granted. Only recently I've really started to wonder."

Katara was quiet again for a moment. She wiped away a few silent tears. "I didn't go to your Agni
Kai because I knew I would bloodbend him. I didn't ask about it because I was afraid they would
tell me you made him suffer. How did you kill that man? Did you think you would regain your
firebending in combat?"

It was best she hadn't gone; Katara's admission only reiterated that. Azula shook her head, wishing
she had that justification for Katara. "I knew I didn't need firebending to kill him. I turned his flame
against him and crushed his throat. He suffered...but not as long as he should have."

Katara continued watching the lamp for a long moment. "I didn't understand how you could subsist
on fighting and death. You relish it even now. You were so open and happy yesterday, but if
someone had challenged you to Agni Kai right after we were married, you would have accepted,
killed him, and enjoyed doing it."
It was true. "I can't change that part of myself."

Katara offered an unhappy smile. "I said I didn't. I do understand now, even if I don't agree with
you. I was raised to protect my family; you were raised to win wars." She heaved a long, mournful
sigh. "Sometimes I wonder how you and your brother can be so different, but he's really no
different. Sometimes I forget what he was like those first few months. Does he know?"

"I'm sure he does."

"I don't understand that." Katara shook her head. Her face was stretched with grief, and Azula
knew she'd caused much of it. "When Zuko joined us during the war, he lost his firebending. He
and Aang went somewhere to fix that. Even Aang got better from whatever they did. Why would
he not tell you about it and help you?"

That sounded like a long shot, but she knew better than to dismiss it with Katara looking at her like
that. "I'll ask him about it when we go back."

Katara met her eyes. Her anger was back, but her voice was steady. "No, Azula. Aang is working
close to Kyoshi Island right now. Go with Sokka. He'll take you to Aang. Ask Aang to help you.
He will if you tell him I sent you."

She was being sent away. The implication scared her. "I should be with you."

"I need you to go more than I need you here," Katara said quietly. Then her voice hardened. "That
wasn't a request."

"Should I come back?" Azula asked quietly. She was stretched so tight she thought she would
shatter with Katara's answer.

Katara's eyes filled with tears, and she slid to her knees and pressed herself into Azula's arms for a
tight embrace. Her voice was muffled but sharp. "I love you. Nothing's going to change that. But
don't you ever hide something like this from me again."

That was an ultimatum. And it was deserved. Azula tightened her arms around Katara and shivered
in relief. "I hope we've both given up our big secrets with this trip." She managed a smile. "Wait, I
remember one. I took dancing lessons."

To her relief, Katara sagged against her shoulder with a weak laugh. Azula kissed Katara's cheek.
"I'm sorry for the lie. But you must know I've been happy. This hasn't been a problem for me in
years. I'd rather be with you than I would to firebend again."

"There's no tradeoff. I want you, and I want you to firebend." Katara cupped her cheek. "You were
better than Zuko or Iroh or Ozai." That surprised Azula, and Katara saw it. She smiled weakly, and
her voice shifted into a teasing note. "Come on, Azula. Blue fire."

The pride that thought evoked surprised her. "Iroh could probably do that if he tried—"

"He didn't. You did."

"Quite a few have done it," Azula admitted. "But I was the first to train myself to sustain the heat
of my flame."

"And lightning."

"It's actually a simple technique. What holds most firebenders back is the ability to release the
energy that they coax. Though I've learned Zuzu can't manage a spark." Azula thought of that with
a smile. She'd watched him try once only to have his fire blow up in his face. She'd never even
imagined that would occur, but she'd laughed at him for a long time over that.

"You love firebending. I know you do; I just saw it in your face. You are a firebender, Azula. I
want you to have that. Never ever give up on yourself," Katara said fiercely.

"I accepted that—"

"You gave up on it," Katara said firmly. Her disapproval was a sharp shame, as much as Iroh's
pride had coaxed her own. "I want you to find it again. Do it for yourself. Fire is as much a part of
you as water is a part of me."

If only that were true. "Not anymore."

"Yes, it is. I've wondered, Azula. You scared me during Zuko's wedding because you were so self-
assured. I thought it was uncharacteristic, but that's the way you really are, isn't it? That hasn't been
here—" She tapped Azula's chest. "Since the end of the war. I want you to be proud of yourself
again."

"I'm not ashamed." Yet as she said it, she understood what Katara meant. She'd given up even
while clutching for her fire. Giving up had been a relief, but she'd lost some of her self-respect
doing it.

"I said proud. I'm not talking about the Fire Nation Princess or Iroh's daughter or my wife. I'm
talking about you, Azula. I don't think you're proud of yourself, and that breaks my heart." Katara's
voice broke and she paused to wipe some of her tears away. "You're missing something important,
and that thing is your firebending. So go to Aang and ask him to help you. Find your fire. And then
come back to me."

Katara made it sound so simple. But...there was no saying 'no' to that tearful request.

The whole of the next day was stiff. Katara threw herself into her work, and Azula piddled at a few
more jobs through the day until the late afternoon. She was preoccupied with worries about her
coming trip and worries about Katara. Katara ducked into the hut soon after Azula, and there was
strained silence between them that Azula wished she could ease.

Someone knocked.

They glanced up to see Sokka duck into the hut. He nodded to Azula, crouched in the rounded
ceiling. "Do you actually want to go on a real seal hunt? I promise it isn't a euphemism this time."

"No," Katara said immediately.

Sokka was surprised, but he responded with his usual good humor. He lifted his mittens in a peace
gesture. "No polar bear dogs or alcohol, I swear on my honor as a seal hunter."

Katara was pointedly silent. Azula sighed. "I can't firebend," she explained.

Sokka opened his mouth. He winced and closed it. Then he said, "I know."

Azula looked at him in surprise. He raised his eyebrows right back at her. "You talk a lot when
you're drunk."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Katara asked him.

"Oh, yeah, Katara. I'd tell you that your girlfriend's been lying to you for ten years the night before
your wedding. Give me a little credit," Sokka said sarcastically. He shrugged. "I can't bend either.
And I'm still alive with all my limbs attached."

Katara became tearful. "I just think about what happened last time—"

Sokka put his hand on her shoulder and met Katara's eyes. "I won't let anything happen."

Katara looked up at her brother, and her shoulders drooped. She acquiesced with a tight nod. Azula
hesitantly touched her hand, and Katara drew it to her mouth to kiss it. "Be careful," Katara said
quietly. She managed to smile. "Let Sokka do all the animal tackling, okay?"

"I vow to push him to the ground to distract the predator while I make my escape."

"Hey, now," Sokka said.

They walked out of the village a few minutes later, bundled up and with their burdens distributed
evenly. Sokka shifted the bag over his shoulder and gave a long whistle as he looked up at the sky.
"I thought she was just sad about Pakku, but she's actually pissed. I know from experience that
calm pissed is a lot scarier than shouting pissed."

Angry and hurt and in mourning. So much for the happiness from their wedding day...and most of
it centered around Azula, not Pakku's passing. "She wants me to go with you to ask the Avatar for
help."

Sokka scoffed. "Good luck with that." He heaved a sigh that became a rude noise. "Well, knowing
Aang, you'll go on a nice adventure and be fast friends after. Maybe he'll finally get over Katara."

Scornful laughter was the only response she could have to that silly prediction. Azula waited for
Sokka to start chattering, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. Eventually she was coaxed to ask,
"Were you close to Pakku?"

He shrugged. His breath was a white cloud that swept along with the powdered snow on the frigid
breeze. "I'll miss him, but I wasn't as close to him as Katara. They had waterbending to bring them
together, and she was able to be here more than me. Actually, he was always kind of a jerk to me."
But as he said it, he smiled.

Much later, Azula asked a question she'd pondered since he'd arrived. "How do you and your wife
manage to travel here as a couple?"

"Suki and I come at least once a year. She comes for me, but she doesn't like it. Usually I stay a
little longer and catch one of our ships to the port north of us. We have a couple of small sailboats
that take trips to a couple of independent ports. Usually they pop by our walrus hunting grounds or
fish out at sea on the way back." He glanced at her. "I'm surprised you've taken so well to this
place, actually."

"The only indulgence I require is a bath aboard the steamship every two days." Azula vowed to
bring her own bathing pan with her next time. No more dunks in the dog water trough. As much
money as her investments brought in, she couldn't afford to pay the steamer to stay with her for
more than this trip. She knew what it would look like too: a way out.

Sokka continued on with his own thoughts. "This time around Suki volunteered when I told her
things were a little iffy with Noakka dying. And Pakku…" He was silent for a moment, fighting
sadness. "Katara said she'd asked you to come too. I knew what that meant: you two were
definitely getting married. So we brought some Kyoshis to get Dad's town hall up so you two could
get married in it." He grinned. "You're whipped. Don't even pretend you aren't."

"I'm whipped," Azula agreed dryly. She considered her next words carefully. "I'm…surprised at
how accepting everyone's been."

Sokka shrugged. "Everybody loves Katara. And she loves you. Maybe you don't see it, but she
looks at you and she just lights up. And they've had ten years to get used to the idea of you. If you
had any doubters before, you definitely don't now." He smiled. "You're different here too. This
place has a way of bringing it out in people."

After a bit more walking, Sokka glanced around and said, "The seal hole should be around here
somewhere, according to Bato. It's still pretty early in the season to hunt seal, but I figured we
should get one in just for the experience."

How did these people keep track of landmarks in a place that didn't seem to have any? All around
them were rippling hills of snow and ice that sparkled in the sunlight. "Katara mentioned you
usually hunt them in autumn."

"Then it's easiest to get the adults; the fast ice expands, and they have to use their breathing holes
to hunt near the shore. Late winter the holes can get buried under snow and are harder to find.
Then in the spring the pups are out. Summer is for whales. Follow me when I wave for you,
okay?"

Sokka motioned for her to stay in one place as he carefully searched for the seal hole in the
seemingly unbroken ripples of white snow and ice. When he found it, he sat down facing it and
motioned her over. She sat next to him at his gesture. He placed mitten over his mouth to indicate
silence. Then he lifted his spear onto his shoulder and sat as still as a statue.

Azula meditated on the dark waters of the seal hole. It was a shocking moment when a whiskered
face finally bobbed up to take a breath. Sokka, who had not moved a muscle this entire time, drove
his spear without hesitation. He gored the seal in what was a quick, gruesome death. Azula hooked
it beneath one flipper at his request, and they dragged it out onto the ice.

He drew his knife and nodded to her to watch. Each cut was careful: bleeding the animal into a
storage skin and splitting skin and blubber and fascia. She expected Sokka to continue dressing the
seal, but he opened its steaming viscera to the air and sliced off a piece of its dark liver. Sokka held
it out to her. "One of the best parts of a fresh seal."

It was warm iron and brass on her tongue. The texture was more rubbery than mealy, and the
flavor of blood was strong in the back of her throat. The next bit Sokka handed her was a round,
lobed kidney; it took a bit of time to remove, but he was expert in his cuts. The kidney had a
cobblestone appearance, and the ureter looked like a string of thin fat hanging from it. She glanced
up to see Sokka eat the second kidney. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She mimicked him. It
was also rubber and blood…blood and minerals and fat and odd sweetness too.

"This is rather barbaric," she said as she swallowed a slice of raw blubber he gave her next.

"It's a gift," Sokka replied, uncharacteristically sober. He carved out an eye and sucked at the
gelatinous inside. "For you and me and Pakku and the village when we go back. Its bones will be
tools and jewelry, its skin will keep us warm and dry from the cold, and maybe I can convince
Gran Gran to make her seal sausage so you can try it. She only makes it every few years, but it is
the best sausage ever."
A gift. This gory pleasure was spiritual in its own way. Maybe it was a good sign before her
coming journey.

Azula crouched on the ice in front of the Kyoshi ship, rechecking her bag for the final time. She
felt the cold air more keenly now that she'd traded her parka for the fur-lined fitted leather that had
come from the Fire Nation. She'd rather leave her parka in Katara's care than risk it on this
journey. She would have left her betrothal necklace, but Katara gave her one look and Azula retied
it to her neck.

She brought her dragon dagger, her personal seal, light silk clothes to change into, and a pouch of
silver coins provided by Captain Lee of her steamer. She didn't see the reason to carry money in
this situation, but Katara had demanded it. The leather bag that carried it all was rather pathetic
looking, but she'd made it herself and was proud to carry it. She recited the list in her mind again.
Ana had helped her pack it with careful enunciation of each item. Azula had said her goodbye to
the little girl before she'd been taken to her lessons earlier that morning.

She glanced up to watch her parents stride towards her. She hadn't had time to speak to them about
leaving so this must be a shock. It was still a bit of a shock to Azula.

"You're leaving? Now?" Ursa asked in sharp disapproval. "Katara's grandmother just lost her
husband! You were just married!"

"Katara wants me to go." More like demanded it.

"But where?" Iroh asked.

Azula waved her hand. "I'm supposed to ask the Avatar to help me regain my bending." Their eyes
widened and she smiled ruefully in reply. "Katara isn't happy with me about that. No doubt I'll be
back in a few days because he'll refuse to help me."

"I don't trust him," Ursa hissed. "Don't let him touch you!"

"I don't think Aang will energybend Azula, Ursa. As much as he may covet Katara." Iroh pinned
her with a surprisingly stern stare. "Try not to rub it in his face."

"He's her friend. As much as I may wish otherwise, he's off-limits."

"Be careful, sweetie."

"No flame is worth dying for before I get my honeymoon," Azula muttered. She stood and pulled
the bag over her shoulder as Katara approached from the village. Despite the certain command
she'd given about Azula going, she didn't seem to want to let Azula go. They kissed and said their
goodbyes, but Katara followed her aboard the Kyoshi ship and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Katara's mouth found hers again and again. In the bustle of activity around them on the square-
sailed Kyoshi ship, they ignored everyone else. No doubt they were in the way, but neither Katara
nor Azula cared.

"Be careful," Katara said, tightening her hand against the back of Azula's neck.

Azula accepted another kiss and brushed her nose against Katara's. "I'll be back soon." She
clarified after Katara's questioning look. "You'll want to be with Kanna now, won't you? So I'll
come back here. We'll go back to the Fire Nation only when you're ready."
Katara nodded with a tight smile. "Then I'll wait here. Be careful," she said again.

"If Zuko survived it, I doubt there's any danger." Her words were rewarded with a small smile.

Finally Katara let her go and walked off of the ship. She stayed by the edge of the ice, watched the
ship pull away, and offered a lonely wave. Ursa—who was generally not demonstrative with
Katara—wrapped her arms around Katara's shoulders. Azula appreciated the gesture.

She lifted her hand to return Katara's lonely wave.

"Remind me again why exactly Katara wanted you to come when she's standing there like she's
watching a whale calf drown?" Sokka asked.

She smiled tightly. "Chasing dragons."

He blinked at her. "Dragons are all dead, aren't they?"

"It's a colloquialism, more fitting now after the last dragon was killed by Iroh. It means chasing
dreams or myths; trying to do something foolish and impossible. Also related to a moniker that
describes the process of smoking opium in the Earth Kingdom."

Sokka's eyebrows climbed. "That sounds pretty stupid."

"Because it is stupid." But she would do it for Katara. She'd do anything for Katara. Azula
resigned herself to the trip. "How far is the Avatar from Kyoshi Island?"

"Half a day's sail north. We'll get to him tomorrow afternoon."

"Princess!" Suki shouldered by Sokka and shoved a long paddle into Azula's hands with a pointed
glare. For such a sweet-voiced woman, she knew how to order someone around. "This isn't a Fire
Nation cruiser. You don't row, you don't ride. So get rowing."

It was going to be a long day on the water. Hopefully the wind would strengthen to speed their
journey.

Late that night, Azula sat in front of a crackling fire and chewed on unagi listlessly. Ty Lee had
offered it with a regretful smile; she knew well enough that Azula didn't care for eel flesh. Ty Lee
had turned out to be a comfort during this trip. Despite her willing help, Azula's body ached from
rowing, the skin of her hands had cracked open and was oozing from pulling the oar, and all she
wanted was to go back home to Katara.

The night sky was not as brightly lit here as the South Pole. They were far enough north that the
aurora was no longer visible, but there were still twice as many stars as were visible in Capital
City. The air felt warm in contrast to the South Pole, but she had no doubt there would be frost on
the ground in the morning.

"Here."

She glanced up at Sokka and took the cup he held out to her despite her sore muscles. Rowing was
not an activity to be thrown into for a day. She swallowed the flavorful tea and relaxed at the scent
of it. Sokka nodded at her. "Let me see those hands."

Azula set down her dinner bowl and tea cup and opened her hands with effort. Her ligaments and
tendons seem to groan as her fingers extended. Sokka swiped his fingers through a tin of lard that
smelled like menthol. He rubbed it into her palms, provoking a hiss from the sting of it. Soon after,
the pain in her hands eased.

She stared at her palms. "If you order me to row tomorrow, I will eviscerate you."

After the hell Suki put her through, she never wanted to see, let alone touch, another oar again.
With every cry to keep rowing, Azula had closed her eyes and remembered the look on Katara's
face when she'd demanded this trip. This was for Katara, not for Azula's enjoyment or comfort. So
she'd swallowed her anger and rowed.

His grin had an apologetic cast; it was acknowledgement that Suki had been harsh even if he didn't
put it into words. "All sailing by the wind, babe."

"Call me that again, and I'll eviscerate you."

He patted her shoulder. "I set up a cot for you at our house. Come on in when you're ready to
sleep."

Azula left her food and drink sitting by the fire and followed him immediately. She wasn't aware of
much but the tiny cot under a roof. It threatened to spill her out if she moved; it was just as well
because she was too tired to move. She closed her eyes and was gone in black silent sleep until
Sokka shook her awake in the gray light of dawn many hours later.

The groan that erupted from her when she moved wasn't suppressible. Her pain was as much about
the repetitive rowing as the uncomfortable angle her body had taken in her sleep. Sokka didn't
smile at her pain; he waited while she prepared herself. He'd shaved at some point since she'd
fallen asleep last night, and he looked much younger for it.

She folded the sweat-scented leather she'd worn through the long day and left it on her cot. They
could sell it…or set it on fire as no doubt Suki would want to. Azula pulled on a black silk tunic
and trousers more appropriate for the temperate climate of the Earth Kingdom. She wanted a bath
desperately, but she wanted to finish her journey more. She attached her dragon dagger to her belt
and pushed her feet into her soft boots. She picked her small shoulder-bag and checked for the
money pouch and her personal seal inside it.

Her hair remained steadfast in Katara's strong braids, which saved her the necessity of working on
it.

After Azula regained the use of her sore muscles, she followed Sokka to the docks. If she hadn't
been so exhausted the night before, she would have enjoyed exploring the town. In the quiet of the
morning, some fishers and farmers were setting up stalls with their produce. They called out
greetings to Sokka and smiled at her unassumingly. Azula paused to take in the raised painted
statue of Avatar Kyoshi on their trip to the dock. That was an Avatar she could respect.

Sokka clambered onto a five meter long sailing boat. He pointed to the bow. "That's you. If I shout
to get down, flatten out or you'll get your head knocked off by the boom."

She flattened out without command and was asleep in minutes in the gentle rocking of the boat.

When she awoke again, the sun was high enough to indicate midmorning and there was no land
visible around them. She was glad she'd had the foresight to position her bag to shade her face. She
didn't need sunburn added to her list of aches.

"Rise and shine," Sokka said, noting she'd awakened. He leaned forward to hand her a water skin
and a few bites of jerked fish. She enjoyed the simple meal in silence.
Eventually, he said, "So, you like Ana."

She glanced across the small boat. There was no point in lying; he had seen for himself the truth.
"Yes."

"She's going to be your daughter. And you're going to go back with Katara to the South Pole?"

"We'll be going back as a family," Azula responded. She could do it as the Princess of the Fire
Nation when she could not as the Fire Lord. Her life ended up working out in ways she'd never
imagined. She asked him, "Why do you not have children?"

Sokka gave an uncomfortable shrug; he didn't hide his disappointment well. "Suki wants to wait
until she retires from the Kyoshi Warriors. Just a few more years. Then we'll have a lot of little
ones running around."

She thought of all the vapid firebending nobles her mother had been suggesting for years,
remembered Katara's quiet wish to have a family, and thought of the odd urges she'd been having
too. She looked at Sokka sitting across from her, and the question that fell out of her mouth
surprised her: "Would you consider fathering a child for someone else?"

That got his attention. His expression of incredulity melted into enthusiasm. "Yeah, of course!"
Then his eyes darted between her legs and he looked a little out of his depth. His embarrassment
caused her to smirk. Sokka relaxed when he saw her expression. "I mean… I would love having a
kid—well, helping you and Katara have a kid. But not, you know, the process."

She rolled her eyes. He certainly knew how to compliment a woman. "Don't worry. I wouldn't
choose have intercourse with you. I would only need your seed."

"Would that work?"

"Fire Nation komodo rhino breeders have been doing it successfully for centuries." She headed off
whatever wise-crack he'd been about to make. "This isn't a proposition, only a question as to your
willingness in case Katara and I consider it."

"Okay," he said simply. "I can deal with that. Just make sure Suki doesn't find out. She might
actually try to murder you."

"Your wife and I aren't exactly bosom buddies," Azula sneered. "I expect you to take care of that
drama without my input."

They fell into silence, both watching the slow rolls of the gentle ocean. They were sailing north,
through gentle seas protected on all sides by sweeping islands. The wind was strong, bearing them
up and down the rollers easily. The ocean wind was cool and wet against her face.

She pondered Sokka's kind acceptance, Hakoda's harsh distrust, and Kanna's gentle disapproval.
The first time she'd seen Sokka after the war, he'd been genial if cautious. He'd known that Katara
was sharing her bed at that time. She'd always wondered how Katara told them, but Katara had
only ever given her vague answers to her inquiries. This seemed a good time to ask. "How did you
find out?"

He glanced at her in question.

"How did Katara tell you about me the first time?"

"Katara never told you?" He whistled and settled back to tell his tale with relish. "You'll like this
story…maybe. I guess you know the start: that Aang asked Katara to marry him, and she broke up
with him and went to the Fire Nation for a vacation."

Thankfully she hadn't chosen the North Pole or the Earth Kingdom. Thankfully Zuko had been a
jerk and sent Katara to Ember Island.

Sokka continued, "Meanwhile Aang built it up in his head that she was just taking her time to
accept. He was pretty broken up about Katara saying 'no'. That was hard for me. I kept telling him
not to put words in Katara's mouth." Sokka shook his head. "Anyway, when Katara came back to
the South Pole, everyone was happy to see her. Aang was there too. During the welcome home
party, he made a big scene and proposed again."

She was both disgusted and a little pitying. Sokka winced. "I think it was mainly out of desperation.
Katara was… She was pretty mad. She told him she was seeing someone else. I thought maybe she
had a thing going with Zuko."

Azula's lip curled at the thought.

Sokka laughed at her disgust. "Aang accused her of cheating on him and wanted to know who she
was with. Keep in mind, everyone in the tribe was overhearing this. Really awkward but kind of
fascinating at the same time. They were screaming at each other about it until Katara said, 'Azula!'

"When she said that, I thought I must have been drinking cactus juice. Dad went white; I thought
he was going to faint. The funny thing is, Aang started to laugh. He said something like, 'Two girls
can't have sex!'"

Azula raised her eyebrows. Sokka mirrored her shock with a nod. "I'm still not sure where that
came from. I'm pretty sure he chats with Avatar Kyoshi sometimes, and let me tell you, she didn't
just teach the principles of fighting to the Kyoshi Warriors."

Azula allowed herself to be momentarily diverted. Ty Lee had talked her ear off about her new
girlfriend the entire trip. "Ty Lee certainly enjoys that aspect."

Sokka laughed. "I think she's actually settled down with one of the new recruits. Suki hates
girlfriend drama, but I think it's pretty fun. Anyway, back to the best part of the story: Aang said
that, and Katara was…really, really mad. She stood up and shouted…I'll never forget what she
said: 'Azula and I manage to be together as lovers a hundred times better than you and I ever did!'"

"This was in front of the whole tribe?" It was almost too much to believe.

Sokka nodded. "Yep. Katara outed you as her girlfriend and that you're excellent in the sack…in
front of the whole Water Tribe."

Azula tried to picture it. She wished she'd been able to see it. "I'm shocked she didn't die of
mortification. She can barely stand the thought of the servants overhearing."

Sokka raised his hands. "Stop! Too much information. I don't want to hear anything about my little
sister in a vaguely sexual way."

"She really likes it when I use my tongue—"

Sokka shrieked and covered his ears. Azula laughed hard enough to make her throat sore. When he
uncovered his ears, she had to admit, "You're a good brother."

"I'm a good brother who did not just tell you that story."
"No," Azula agreed. She knew why Katara hadn't told her about that: it was more about Azula's
ego than Katara's embarrassment. She would keep this within herself as a comforting truth. She
would look at the Avatar and know. No wonder he hated her. "Now I understand why your father
accused me of seducing Katara."

Sokka found that particularly amusing.

As the morning progressed, dark, threatening clouds rolled in from the north. When they docked at
the settlement on the coast of the southern Earth Kingdom that was hosting the Avatar, Sokka gave
the threatening clouds a worried look. Azula picked up her bag and stepped onto the dock. "Go. I
can find him."

Sokka's relief was evident. "Thanks. Suki wants me back tonight." He pointed towards the sky.
"Those would keep me here for a couple of days probably. Good luck with your dragon chasing."

She waved in reply to the salute he sketched her.

The town was a small one. This deep into rural land of the Earth Kingdom and in her current garb,
she doubted the citizens would recognize her as the princess of the Fire Nation.

As she expected, the first few people she saw only gave her a spare curious glance. She focused on
one young man. When she caught his eye, she smiled in a way she hoped was disarming. The boy
went red and straightened. "Excuse me. Where is the Avatar?"

He pointed down the street, not taking his eyes from her. Behind him, a winged lemur landed on
the eaves of the building and chattered at her aggressively; it was the Avatar's. It leapt off the
straw roof and flew down the street, more helpful than the boy had been.

Azula followed the animal and found the Avatar soon after when the lemur landed on his shoulder.
His bald pate was distinctive with the blue arrow that emerged from his collar. When he turned
towards her, he had a pleasant smile despite his pet's hissing protests. For the first time she realized
his boyish face was handsome; he'd never actually smiled at her before. He had matured a great
deal in the past few years and wore a respectably thick brown beard across his jaw.

The Avatar didn't recognize her at first. As his eyes swept over her face, his beard-covered jaw
tightened and his smile fell away. His gaze lingered on the Water Tribe braids in her hair. Then his
gaze dipped below her chin.

She'd never seen someone lose all hope in a single moment…until that moment. The Avatar looked
at her necklace, and his face broke in anger and pain. How could he possibly think after all this
time that she would give Katara up? Or that Katara would want him in that capacity?

It would be so easy and satisfying to gloat. To pretend there were other women in the Fire Nation,
that she’d force Katara to move away from home to be with her—anything to sharpen the sting of
his loss and distract herself from the fear she still felt for his power.

"I've come to ask for your help," she said instead.

"Why would I help you?"

They were the first words he'd spoken directly to her since she’d lied about sleeping with Laza. His
tone conveyed a decade's worth of jealous anger. Azula focused past her own unease and disgust
and stated the bare truth: "Katara sent me."

He was silent; his eyes fell to the ground and remained there.
"She said you and my brother traveled somewhere and that you came back from that place better
firebenders. She thought you would take me there, as a favor to her." She took a breath and
admitted, "I haven't been able to firebend since the war. Katara has demanded that I make this trip
to regain my bending. No doubt she believes this is partly her fault."

His jaw tightened slowly. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Azula was so certain he would decline
that his terse nod came as a shock. He turned to the old woman who had been watching them with
blatant curiosity. "I'll be back by tomorrow afternoon, Lady Fafa."

The 'lady' was certainly not that, but when the Avatar used that term, she gave a gummy smile.
Azula counted three teeth.

"Lady Fafa, I'm Princess Azula of the Fire Nation. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The woman's eyes went wide.

"How do you feel about whale candy?"

The woman looked at her like she was crazy. Azula had no time to clarify her question; the Avatar
was walking away from her with purpose. She followed him stride for stride across the village
center and clambered up on his sky bison after him. He didn't wait for her to settle before he
flicked the reins. Thankfully their takeoff was much smoother than any airship she'd ever flown on
or she'd have tumbled off and ended her journey with a broken leg.

In the long hours that they were in the air, the Avatar said not a single word to her. Azula occupied
herself by trying to pick out landmarks on the earth below them when it wasn't hidden by clouds.
They flew mainly over coastal land; there was not a moment in which they were over completely
open ocean. The sky remained cool from their altitude, but the sun grew warmer as they neared the
equator.

As night fell, she dozed fitfully, her dreams vague and memories elusive each time she awoke. At
one point, she awoke from a dream to find herself flying on a serpent's back only to wake up once
more to blink down at the winged lemur asleep in her lap. It took her several minutes to ground
herself in her reality here as her fingers traced over the velvety fur on the lemur's folded ear. Her
apprehension grew with each silent minute and each mile farther west. This felt like a mistake. This
felt like danger. This man was not her ally, no matter how much Katara trusted him.

When the gray sky of morning broke with the first hint of sunlight, their altitude dipped, and they
flew down towards an island in what Azula assumed was the Northwest Sea. She saw three islands
nearby; the one closest was straight to the north, probably within swimming distance.

When they landed, the Avatar shifted as if he meant to dismount. Azula had long since made up
her mind that she would do this without his help. She gave him a sharp look, and he sat down, his
eyes wide. In case that wasn’t clear enough, she enunciated: “I don’t need your help.” Her loathing
of him made her emphasize ‘your’ a little too much, and the Avatar didn’t miss that. His brow
abruptly tightened, and he looked away in evident anger.

Katara had told Azula to do this for herself. This was not a place for titles or relationships. She was
not here as Iroh's daughter, Katara's wife, or the Fire Nation's Princess. She was only Azula. She
untied the knife from her waist, removed her betrothal necklace, and placed them in her shoulder
bag with her personal seal.

When the Avatar refused to meet her gaze, she set the bag beside him. "Keep these safe for me."
He gave a curt nod in reply.

When she slipped off of the sky bison, it was aloft only a moment later. She felt growing unease at
the task ahead of her. The Avatar hadn't had the attitude of a man who would come back for her,
but she’d rather swim to another island than take any more of his help than this. As she watched
him fly away, she felt dread and fear fall from her shoulders. After all these years, she was still
afraid of him, and she hated him for that.

Azula stood on the sandy beach where she'd been set and decided this was not a venture to go into
thinking about getting back home. She needed to find the key and only then worry about her
journey home.

She took a deep breath, pushed away the vague flicker of déjà vu that raised the hair on her neck,
and took her first step.

The sandy beach became grassy dunes. The dunes climbed steeply into rock and folded out in an
abrupt view of crumbled ruins of a city. It was a great city with a rising pyramid in the center of its
ruins. Azula studied the pyramid. It was grandiose enough that she had some hope that was where
she needed to go. There was a structure on the top of it, potentially an altar.

What was this place?

She climbed down steps chipped into the rock to reach the outer perimeter of the city. More
climbing was required to navigate through several rubble filled streets. After balancing across a
fallen wall of a half-destroyed building, she had to jump and grab onto a ledge at the top of the
leaning wall. Her sore arms and hands protested as she pulled herself onto the flat roof. From there
was a simple jump down onto a clear causeway beyond. From her landing crouch, she looked up
the street. What she saw raised the hair on the back of her neck.

A set of molded bricks had fallen across the path. From inconspicuous holes in the building beside
it, four slender spears emerged towards the pressure plate the bricks were triggering.

It was a booby trap.

Her progress slowed considerably after that.

She found five more booby traps. Of the five, she set off one when she let her attention slip
momentarily. The flail was old but sharp; she avoided decapitation with a jerk of her head. Instead,
one sharp edge sliced across the hard cartilage of her ear, opening her ear up to through the lobe.
She flattened herself to the ground and waited for the heavy iron ball to stop swinging. The narrow
brush with death flushed her body with ice in that hot morning.

She probed the wound; her fingers came back covered in blood. She traced the wound down and
realized the flail had also opened some skin along the back part of her cheekbone. It wasn't a
serious cut aside from the certainly it would bleed profusely. There was no way to bind it, so she
let it bleed to clot and turned her mind to other matters.

By the time she reached the great mural wall that sat halfway to the central pyramid, her clothes
were soaked in sweat and her right shoulder with blood. She didn't smell of hard work; she smelled
like sour fear. And yet there was some joy in it. She hadn't been this on edge since the war. The
adrenaline was heady, and her pain made her feel alive.
She didn't think of Katara. She couldn't. It was a selfishness that would keep her alive.

At that central point between the edges of the ruins and the pyramid, she stopped to study the
etching on the massive wall. The wall embodied grandiose enormity, not just from height but from
sheer mass. It stretched at least twelve meters high, a marvel in itself. A firebender was carved at
top and center, his arms raised to command the flames that swirled around him. Two dragons stood
to either side, belching out flames that mixed with what the man commanded.

Harmony or battle?

As she pondered it, she realized that unlike her first assumption, the man in the center was not the
actual focus on the wall. The dragons to either side of him were. There was a harmony in the yin
and yang theme of those dragons though they were perfect mirrors. The man was only a
centerpiece between them.

This had all the marks of a Sun Warrior creation. Azula turned and looked back the way she'd
come. The buildings had a style to their architecture that tickled her memory. This city had been
built during the first years of the Age of Enlightenment of the Fire Nation. Capital City used to
look like this until the battle for gender equality had demolished it completely. When they'd rebuilt
Capital City, it had been much easier to use wood instead of stone.

Fire Sages had a tender love for the ages though. Their temples still held designs like this in their
balustrades and decorative columns. Azula was standing in history much older than she'd at first
imagined.

She looked back up at the carved mural with awe. Yet… There was no blinding epiphany, not that
she expected one. She felt no closer to unlocking the secret that apparently her brother and the
Avatar had discovered. To the pyramid it was. She moved on as the sun grew hotter through the
late morning.

The sun had reached the highest part in the sky when Azula climbed the first terrace of the central
pyramid of the city. She stepped across carved stone that was clearly a sun calendar. At least she
assumed it was because of the reflective glass that sat within the tip of an obelisk nearby. The
focus was defunct; the red jewel in the obelisk was cracked and sat crooked in its mold.

She walked around one side of the ring, sweeping her eyes up the ruins. A gaping hole opened the
temple wall. About three meters of wall still remained below it. The destruction must have been
caused by something bursting out from within; the rubble spilled outward, not inward. The sight of
it made her shiver even in the heat. She climbed the rubble pile and looked through the hole. Azula
waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Her first instinct was to flinch back when she caught
sight of figures within.

Statues. Very dusty statues all standing in a wide ring. She dropped into the room and sneezed
when her feet kicked up a layer of dust from the floor. No one had been in here in a long time.
Azula curled her lip at her own trivial thought. "Well, that's certainly expected of ancient ruins,
isn't it?" she told herself.

She walked slowly to the center of the room until her feet touched the threadbare circular tapestry
centered in the ring of statues. As her eyes turned across one half of the circle, she saw fluidity in
the poses. This was Zuko's mystery firebending technique. He'd learned it from statues? Absurd.

She turned around and studied the poses on the opposite side. They were a perfect mirror. Then she
looked at the jagged empty hole in the floor between the two semicircles; it gaped several meters
wide. The tapestry had been burned black around the edges of the pit, blending with the foreboding
darkness of the hole. The hair on the back of her neck went up. She didn't approach.

Instead, Azula turned back to the statues. When she stepped up to study a statue in more detail, a
tile shifted beneath her foot. Azula slowly stepped back, thinking it was a trap. The tile returned to
its original position without effect. There were more in front of each statue, and she realized
perhaps this was the key.

Standing there, facing the statues, she lifted her arms, shifted her legs, and fell into the stance and
kata with ease. It was easy to put together from what she'd copied from Zuko. She saw some flaws
in his technique…though perhaps they were flaws in her memory of his implementation. Probably
a little of both. As she stepped through the kata, her feet fell into the pressure plates in front of each
statue.

She swept fluidly along the line of statues; her stances reflected their poses perfectly. As she
settled into last stance, she expected something to happen.

Nothing did.

Feeling foolish, she repeated the process for the mirroring side. There was no click, no secret
passage opening, no blinding epiphany. She gave up on that venture and searched the corners of
the darkened room. Nothing.

"Of course," she said, her voice small even as it echoed in the empty room. "At least I made a fool
of myself alone."

To the top of the pyramid it was.

She had to take a running kick off the wall to grab the ledge and haul herself back out. Her hands
screamed at her and her left palm began to bleed when she gashed it on the stone. At least there
were stairs the rest of the way up the temple.

At the top she was once again disappointed. The altar—or whatever it actually was—that she'd
spied from the edge of the city was a lavishly decorated eight meter high spade cut into the top of
the temple, but whatever it was meant to guard wasn't there anymore.

How useless. Azula turned in a circle and surveyed the entire island from this vantage point, which
was apparently the only useful aspect of this pyramid. Across the island a twin set of rocky peaks
emerged from dense jungle. It was as good a place as any to go. It wasn't like she had another
important place to be, no matter how foreboding that place looked.

She followed a worn path through the other side of the city. On this side of the ruins, the buildings
seemed newer and the paths were well-traveled. There were no booby traps. Instead of open door
buildings, there were wooden doors and tattered linen cloth coverings; within these buildings was
wooden furniture. One bed even had a hay-packed mattress. It was all deathly silent—as if the
inhabitants had simply decided to pack up and leave one day. Despite the age of the ruins, she had
the vague idea that whoever had lived here had left not so long ago.

Close to the outer perimeter of the city, her hunch was confirmed.

She closed a swinging wooden door on one stone building. When she pushed it closed, she saw the
nail driven into it. On the nail hung a sign made from driftwood. Carved into it from the universal
language was: GONE FISHING.

Her bark of laughter broke the dense silence of the dead city.
What the fuck was going on?

There was nothing to do but push on. After she escaped the eerie silence of the city, some of her
unease fell away. The jungle was lush and humid, but its shade was a relief to the sun she'd
endured through the long morning. She stopped at a stream, gorged herself on its water, and tended
to her wounds as well as she could.

The trail she followed through the jungle was well marked and moved steadily uphill. The
vegetation had been bushwhacked time and time again—tree trunks that grew within reach were
layered with scars—until it grew amenably for easy passage. There was some sign of regrowth
along the floor of the jungle, but the bare earth beneath the sprouting weeds and vines indicated
this path had been traveled extensively in the near past.

As the sun began its gradual fall into evening, Azula broke out of the jungle. The dense forest gave
way to tall grasses, and the path steepened until it entered a chipped passage through inhospitable
rock. There was no way to tell what lay behind that rock, but she assumed she'd find the sharp
peaks she'd spied at the top of the ruined city.

She looked up and judged the height of the rock. Brown sunburnt stone jutted up into the air. Once
again, Azula found herself intimidated. And once again she refused to reconsider. She'd come too
far.

She followed the narrow path through the rocks. When she reached the end, the true end of the
trail, she had to stop and stare.

There was a wide circular ring of chipped rock that sat in front of a steep rise of crude steps. She
walked in a vague ellipse, judging the flames carved into the stone. The steps rose as much as fifty
meters into the air and spilled onto a stone bridge that spanned the distance between two sharp
dirks of rock. This was not a place she could have imagined in her wildest dreams. There was no
mark of the Sun Warriors here. This was alien. It was frightening.

And this was it. She knew that standing here, looking up at that bridge of stone. This was the
reason she'd come to this island. If there truly was a secret to unlock, it lurked here. She sensed that
secret was not benevolent.

Azula took a moment to gather herself. Then her feet propelled her across the ground and up the
steps as if in a dream.

Standing here as she was, she thought she might vomit or pass out in one. The bridge opened into
the great crags of rock: two black caves swallowed the edges of the stone bridge. From the inky
blackness of one cave, she sensed malignant forces more strongly. Yet in that danger, she was
drawn closer.

She was as afraid as she was excited.

Her breath came fast, her hands trembled, and her sight pinpointed then expanded again with
adrenaline. Her feet moved her forward without thought. Then she stopped. She was waiting. For
what she didn't know.

An inhuman scream sounded. It echoed and reechoed in this circle of rock.

She guessed what had made the horrifying noise. No, she knew what it was. And yet she was
frozen in disbelief as a winged reptilian beast burst from the blackness of the cave.

A dragon.
A dragon!

She would have laughed if she could. She'd been chasing dragons, and by Agni, she'd found one.

Azula's wish in that moment was to study the beast, to touch it, and put to memory the reality of an
extinct animal, but the only detail she saw was the hot yellow flames the dragon belched at her.

Time slowed.

There was nowhere for her to go to avoid the flames except off the platform to fall to her certain
death. So she did what had been ingrained in her since her earliest childhood memories: she slipped
into a fire-breaking kata and brought her arms across her body to command her enemy's flames and
split them across her body.

The flame parted around her, and she was not burned.

Wide-eyed shock rocked through her when she processed what had just happened. She'd felt the
flames resonate with her chi and had seen them burn from yellow to harsh blue. Even the sound
changed: a dull crackle shifted to a deep, sharp gas hiss, a sound she knew and loved.

The dragon roared again as it banked around one rocky peak, but she couldn't spare it a thought.

Azula stared at her hands in frozen concentration. She took a deep breath and released it. Cupped in
her palm was blue fire…familiar and beautiful and dangerous. Her fire, her namesake. She had no
time to consider how or why. This was a gift, and she had to show the dragon that had given fire
back to her that she deserved it.

Azula threw her head back and roared a joyous cry to echo the dragon's shriek. From her mouth,
her blue flame arched in the sky.

There was no more thought. There needed to be no more thought. One did not think during battles.

"Come and get it!" she challenged.

The dragon burst towards her with a powerful undulation of its body and roared a challenging
reply.

It was a dropped cape and a gong strike in the setting sun. Fire would be their equalizer.

Azula was about to fight an Agni Kai with a dragon.

 The dragon dance

The battle didn't start at all like she expected. But in Azula's defense, who expected to fight a
dragon? Instead of clashing flames or lightning, the dragon snapped its jaws and seized Azula's
right arm in the toothless gap between its canines and premolars. It lifted her with a yank of its
head and they were flying rapidly across the island, back towards the sandy beach where the
Avatar had left her hours ago.

She was hanging at an uncomfortable angle, buffeted with each undulating beat of the dragon's
wings. It flew as much with its snake-like body as its wings. Azula turned her head and realized she
had to time her next move precisely. If she didn't time this right, she would die from the fall. If she
didn't make this move, she would surely die to the dragon from whatever this beast meant to do to
her.

Maybe its lair was on the beach and it meant to eat her. Maybe it wanted to throw her to her death
out over the ocean. Maybe it just liked to play with its prey like Tonk did.

She didn't plan to find out.

As they reached the coastal edge of the ruined city, Azula released fire into its gullet from her
trapped hand. The dragon shrieked in rage, and as it did so, it dropped her.

It took a precious moment to orient herself. Her momentum was carrying her towards the beach,
but she wouldn't make it out of the city while falling. She exhaled a sharp burst of flame to get her
feet back under her. She would need the soft sand of the beach to survive the fall. Azula gave
another firebending burst: a horizontal push and a vertical one to slow her fall and propel her
towards the beach. When she cleared the jagged rock, sandy dunes rushed up towards her. She
exhaled three short powerful bursts to coax combustions beneath her feet and slow her fall so she
wouldn't shatter her bones when she hit the ground.

She was rusty after all these years and landed a little off-target.

When she hit the sand, she rolled into a quick somersault, tried to catch her feet, and instead went
head over heels at least twice more before her momentum slowed enough that she could pop back
to her feet. She vibrated from her feet to her scalp from the impact but took no time to slip into the
steady stance Zuko had used against her so many years ago. This was why she'd trained to keep her
lungs open; this was why she'd practiced her katas without flame. She'd always wanted to firebend
with them. Why not use the form against a dragon?

The dragon landed just down the beach with a long, angry hiss. The smooth blue scaly skin of its
long thorax expanded with each inhalation. The dragon had unusual narrow pinnae instead of facial
fins, and they were erect, pointed to where she stood on the sand. Sunlight caught soft white hairs
that lined the edges of those odd ears. Its two curved horns sprouted from the boney plates above
its brow, and its whiskers were much shorter than the traditional images painted by many Fire
Nation artists. Its golden eyes glowed at Azula.

It was watching her, as she was watching it.

"You are a beautiful creature," she said. She was surprised to realize she was grinning fiercely.

Its ears trembled and folded back, and it hissed, baring long white canines and two rows of straight
incisors. Those deadly teeth were not its greatest weapon.
Azula settled back into her stance and curled two fingers; her voice shook with energy. "Shall we?"

The dragon gave a powerful shriek and burst off of the ground faster than Azula anticipated. It
belched another attack of yellow flame, and she planted her feet and used her own hotter blue fire
to ward it off with ease. It was easy, simple, and as if she'd been firebending every day for the last
twelve years. She didn't think about it; she didn't want to ponder herself right out of firebending
again. Luckily, this dragon wasn't going to give her the chance.

She spun on one planted heel and waited for the dragon to come back from the other direction.

This time, the dragon's flame changed mid-breath; hot fluttering yellow sharpened into a blue jet.

It was imitating her fire.

Azula would have laughed if she could; instead, her mouth stretched in a feral grin. She warded off
this attack with more difficulty by throwing up a powerful wall of her own fire to break the
dragon's.

She challenged its next pass, kicking a column of blue fire. It thundered against the ground like a
splashing whip of flame, a physical manifestation of her exhilaration. The strength of her attack
turned the dragon on a hasty retreat; it skidded into the grassy dunes. There it writhed in an
explosion of sand before it managed to take to the air again.

Azula seized the central pole of her body and wrenched it apart, tearing lightning from within
herself painfully. She exhaled, and it arced out from her fingers with her breath, leaving her
galvanized. Static shattered the air, and the brightness of the lightning branded her retinas. The
dragon opened its mouth into the bolt of lightning like it would consume it. With a snake-like roll
of its abdomen, the lightning burst back onto the beach with a thunderous boom.

The dragon circled her so fast Azula lost track of its head. Lightning came at her—from it—a
moment later. She caught it, let it flow across her chest, and sent it up the beach, where it once
again thundered so powerfully it hollowed her chest and emphasized her stuttering heart.

The dragon could bend lightning. Never had Azula read of any dragon that could do so. She was in
awe of the power of this magnificent beast, but she had no breath to spare to laugh. The dragon
roared as it approached once again.

She was too exhilarated—fighting a dragon, it was her wildest dream—to stay on the defensive.
She kicked off the ground as she breathed and directed her flame beneath her feet and hands. She
left swaths of fire and lines of glowing melted sand as she accelerated across the ground.

Azula drew back her arm and threw it forward, expanding her punch in a sweep of flame towards
the dragon charging at her. To her shock, the dragon beat its great wings and simply flew by her
flame. On its pass, it flicked its tail like a whip and struck Azula across the shins sharply. Her
momentum sent her tumbling over herself. She scattered sand as she somersaulted and hit the
ground hard. Her shins pulsed in muted pain and her shoulder wrenched from the impact.

There was no time to revel in her pain. She stood and found the strong stance once more. Instead of
charging Azula during her weakness, the dragon crooned as it swept through the air. It belched a
ring of blue fire and darted through its own flames. It was playing.

She stared up at it in disbelief. Had the dragon punished her for using another firebending form?
She needed to regain its attention.

Azula swung her arm in a loop and coaxed a ring of blue fire—one of her favorite firebending
attacks—that jetted from her body and spun in a harsh hiss across the sand, leaving another deep
melted furrow across the beach. Her fire curved where Azula directed it, and the dragon folded its
wings and flattened its body to avoid the attack.

She fended off two more of the dragon's offenses—and took a snap of a wingtip across her back—
before it managed to copy her fire ring attack. When it snorted the ring at her, the fire came faster
than her own had ever moved. She launched herself off the ground and twisted. The heat of its blue
flames nearly scorched her face as it swept by; it coaxed a roaring hiss as it skidded across the
ocean. She managed to keep all her appendages attached and to avoid the hot sand beneath her feet
when she landed.

That had been close. It made her grin.

The dragon broke their pattern and belched a swirling wave of blue fire that expanded hot and wide
as it rushed to her. She leaned forward to seize the flame as her own and part it across her body.
The beast flew by her twice more, doing the same thing each time. For the sheer challenge of it,
Azula attempted to reproduce that attack. It took her that many times to repeat the process for
herself: manipulating a rolling cone of flame that rushed up the beach. There was a delicate balance
in such an attack. The fire required was so huge and powerful that controlling it was difficult, and
she felt fierce pride at her accomplishment.

The dragon gave a hissing croon as it flew by the next time; it didn't attack on that pass.

This wasn't Agni Kai; it wasn't a fight; and it wasn't a spar.

It was the mime-stepping partnership of a dance.

This was a feral dragon, and she was taming it.

Azula allowed herself a laugh now, echoing the dragon's happy sound. They went back and forth,
mirroring and shifting—learning new forms from each other, striking and causing pain as much as
not—until the sun dipped low in the western horizon and Azula reached the end of her energy.

The dragon seemed similarly fatigued; its flame had cooled and softened considerably. Their
movements slowed and relaxed until the dragon only flew back and forth, sweeping closer and
closer until it slithered around Azula on its belly, leaving a ring of disturbed sand in its wake. She
held her palm on its smooth, dry scales as it did so.

It stopped to face her with its body looped loosely around her. It lifted its great head, and she saw
by the graceful curve of the plates over its nose that it was female. Azula's hand cautiously
followed her eyes. A young female whose eyes were brilliant gold. Behind them lurked great
intelligence. The dragon's pupils had constricted to tight slits in the setting sun; her third eyelid
flicked up as Azula's finger traced over the plate above her eye. There was a fine dusting of fur
across most of the dragon's face: white and blue in a symmetric pattern. The dragon's nose was a
graceful arch; below it opened a mouth full of giant cat-like teeth. On her chin was thick white fur
that was bristly against Azula's fingertips.

The dragon's beauty surpassed every painting or sculpture Azula had ever seen.

She was easily twenty meters in length. Her wingspan likely matched that. Her wingspan alone
made her appear huge. The dragon must have sensed Azula's attention because she spread their
broadness to awe-inspiring full width. Her scales were deep blue, nearly black except where the
evening sun softened the color. Her limbs were short but powerful; the forelimbs sat just caudal to
her wings. Her pelvic limbs marked the start of her long, graceful tail that ended with a tuft of
white fur.

The female dragon looked Azula in the eye. And then the dragon lowered its head in a universal
bow.

This was a feral dragon that Azula had just subdued, and it was asking her to mount it.

This was a triumph: glory and power and grace and infinite joy. She would be the first person to
ride a dragon in almost a century. How had any self-respecting firebender ever thought killing a
dragon was of greater merit than this?

Azula wrapped one hand over the dragon's left horn. The dragon nosed her leg as Azula shifted to
straddle her powerful neck. She gripped the dragon's right horn and tightened her thighs on the
dragon's sinewy neck.

There was no warning.

One moment they were in an act of still beauty on the beach. The next moment, the ground had
fallen away and Azula's stomach stayed behind as her body lurched upward. The beach shrank;
then the island became a rounded blip of land in the blue sea. They were far above the clouds that
sat on the horizon like mountains. Higher they went with each powerful beat of the dragon's wings.

The air grew colder and thinner as the horizon began to dip at the edges and round. All these years
and all those books she'd read and believed, and Azula saw with her own eyes that the earth was
round. Azula saw in one shocking moment a piece of the northern curve of the Capital Island, her
nation, as if laid out on a map. Her sight blurred.

At first she thought her shortness of breath was from her awe. Then her lungs heaved as she tried to
gasp the thin air. It filled her lungs, but the air could not sustain her. Sweat froze to her face and
hair, and her sight speckled black as she began to lose consciousness.

The dragon's upward momentum slowed and stopped in the thin air, and then she simply lowered
her horned head and folded her wings.

Azula's stomach had finally caught up to her, and it was left far above the clouds as her body began
to fall.

It should have been terrifying. Azula had to clench her thighs and tighten her hands on the dragon's
horns to avoid losing her seat. They fell through the clouds in a streamlined rush. When they broke
from the clouds, the swirling teal and navy sea rushed at them. If she'd had enough breath to
scream, she would have. Yet she inherently trusted the magnificent dragon that carried her.

The dragon rewarded her trust. Its body shifted, and those great wings opened just enough to begin
to slow their descent. The scream Azula would have given became joyous laughter when she
gulped a full breath of air. Gradually the dragon's wings opened completely and stroked down in a
hard beat. They soared through the air—dipping into the ocean at odd intervals—back to the
island.

She was riding a dragon!

Azula's emotions were too great to hold in, and she tilted her head back and shouted herself hoarse.
The dragon bellowed with her.

Even after the dragon landed on the beach, Azula's hands and thighs didn't want to unclench. When
she managed to, she dropped into the sand and lay there on her belly, panting in elation and
weeping for the gift she'd just been given. The dragon nuzzled at her back, then huffed at her hair.
Azula dragged her fingers through the sand to push herself into a crouch.

She lifted her head and stared into its curious gaze.

The dragon lurched forward, opened her great maw, and closed powerful jaws gently around
Azula's head and shoulders. There was no pain; the blunt teeth didn't close down around her hard
enough to break skin or even bruise.

Unlike the firebending battle and first mounted ride, this was not a behavior Azula had ever read
about.

She sat frozen with the warm spiced scent of the dragon's breath flowing around her face. The
rough tongue touched her face gently and pulled back. There was a rush of air as the dragon gulped
a breath inward. Then the dragon exhaled.

Fire burst around Azula. Her clothes disintegrated in a flutter of burned silk. She waited for
screaming pain as it charred the flesh from her bones, but pain didn't come. Heat wasn't there. She
was blind to everything but the brilliant burst of flame inside the dragon's mouth, but she knew in
that moment what she would have seen if she could: her skin was whole, untouched by the dragon's
fire.

With that joyous truth in her mind, her world went dark.

Azula choked. She coughed and spat sand and salt water from her mouth. A cool wave swept up
around her body.

She lifted her head and looked around her.

The beach was decimated: covered in shattered sandy glass, flattened dunes, and deep furrows that
the rising tide flowed into. She focused on the deep trough left by a huge snake-like body along the
dunes, then the imprint of wide underbelly scales by her body.

Dragon!

Azula lurched to her feet and groaned as her muscles unclenched. She looked down at herself. She
was naked; she remembered in a flash that her clothes had been burned off. Her right side felt
burned, but as her hand fell to her skin, she realized it was from the sun, not from fire.

Her flame. A dragon. She'd ridden a dragon, and she could firebend. Azula laughed for joy despite
the certain pain of her body. On the same breath as her laughter came blue fire. She was back; she
was whole; she was finally herself again!

She was also bruised and cut; and her muscles, joints, and bones ached. She was hungry and thirsty
and exhausted. She had a variety of physical complaints and could spend hours cataloguing them
all. She probably looked like the walking dead.

She felt amazing. Unfortunately her range of motion at that moment was close to nothing. At least
she still could walk.

Azula took a step up the beach and sliced her foot open on rough glass left in the wake of their fire
and lightning.

At least she could walk until a second ago.

Azula carefully sat down on a patch of soft sand. She groaned in pain as she put the foot against
her thigh to study the wound. She was bleeding from an uneven gash deep into the arch of her foot.
She tightened her hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding.

As she waited her elation was too much to contain. She threw her head back and shouted, "I am
Azula. I am a dragon!"

Her hoarse voice echoed down the beach. No one replied, but the shout had been for herself. Her
throat and chest were tight from emotion, not pain. She laughed in sheer elation even as she had
trouble believing it all real. This would be an amazing story for Katara.

Then Azula realized she had to get home.

In this moment, sitting on the ruined beach after traveling through a booby-trapped city, dancing
with a dragon, being carried so high she saw the world bend, and being baptized in fire, Azula
admitted to herself that she might have sabotaged herself by sending the Avatar away. Now though
she was a serious threat to him. If he did come back for her, she'd rather not meet him in her
weakened state. She would have to find her own way off this island.

Even without the Avatar, staying on the island with a feral dragon wasn't an option. She'd just torn
her foot open enough that she doubted she'd be able to walk on it, let alone fight or fly the dragon.
She didn't want to test what now seemed a delusion of grandeur. So…she couldn't walk, but she
could swim.

Azula looked out to the moonlit sea to judge the distance of the islands surrounding this one. There
might be a small fishing village at one of those islands. Katara had taught her to trust the black
ocean and the bright full moon. Azula got to her feet and limped out into the breakers. The salt
stung her wounds sharply but only for a few minutes.

If she was on the map where she thought she was, there were no great currents that would bear her
out to the endless sea of the west. If she wasn't… Well, she would have to swim out anyway. After
the day she'd had, Azula decided to have a little faith. She put her face into the water and began to
swim.

She hadn't swum regularly in years, but the technique came back quickly. She counted her strokes
to try to keep an estimate of how far she swam from the island: roughly one stroke per meter in the
ocean. When she'd reached three thousand strokes, she rolled onto her back and floated, resting.

She was desperately thirsty.

A strange noise made her lift her head from the water. Azula cocked her head to catch the noise
again. Someone was humming. Then the humming morphed into boisterous off-key singing:

"It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se,

But the girls in the city they look so pretty,
And they kiss so sweet that you've really got to meet
The girls from Ba Sing Se!
The girls from Ba— Si—ng Se—!"

A splash of white floated above the horizon. She stared at it for a long moment, not quite believing
her vision. The singing helped ground her, but it gave the entire situation a dream-like quality…as
if the day hadn't been insane enough already. Azula swam lazily towards the small fishing boat and
its furled sail.
"Excuse me." Her voice was horribly hoarse, but it still worked.

The man in the boat jerked around so hard he nearly fell out. He yelped when he saw her. He stared
at her with wide eyes like he was trying to decide if she was real. She was still fighting a similar
doubt.

"May I rest in your boat?"

His mouth opened but produced no noise, and he nodded wordlessly.

Azula seized the side of the boat with her sore palms. She wasn't sure she could haul herself up
without help. His strong hands caught her shoulder, then grabbed her backside as he hoisted her
aboard. "Beggin' your pardon," he said as he did so.

She rolled into the rocking boat and closed her eyes, too exhausted and relieved to care about her
nudity. The man unbelted his linen tunic and handed it to her. Azula was grateful for the cover but
not pleased it had stripped the fisherman to his loincloth. The linen covering smelled of man: sharp
sweat and body odor. That didn't stop her from putting it on.

He watched her closely as he handed her his skin of water. She gulped it down greedily and gasped
when she pulled it from her mouth. She'd never tasted anything so sweet.

What this man must think, floating in the middle of the ocean and pulling a naked woman into his
fishing boat.

He grinned and spoke along the same vein: "I was just thinking my friends were having a great
laugh at ol' me. They told me I might catch a rare night fish tonight. Turns out ol' Yoshi gets to
laugh, huh? I caught a mermaid."

"You can call me whatever you want as long as you get me to someplace that has a port."

He grinned. "Where in the world did you come from? You're pretty beat up."

She pointed towards the dragon island.

His smile faded. Then, without a word, he pulled the boom of his mast around, unfurled the sail,
and directed his boat towards the east island. After the wind caught his sail, he gave her salted fish
which she chewed on with relish. It tasted wonderful, as good as the sweet water she guzzled. He
handed her a second skin of water when she finished the first.

She studied the man, unable to place his race. His scalp was shaved into a mohawk that was pulled
back into a high ponytail. He had facial tattoos that emphasized his high cheekbones, but there
were no similar markings on his thin body. He'd been singing a popular tune, but he looked like
he'd stepped out of history.

In less than an hour, the man threw a loop of rope over an old tree stump in an inlet of the east
island. He dragged the boat against a couple of loose planks that served as a dock and helped
Azula onto land. He put his shoulder under her own and whistled happily in her ear as they limped
up the sandy forest path.

"Did you actually catch something, Yoshi?" The voice that came from the hut at the end of the
path was female and full of dry humor.

"A mermaid!" Yoshi cried. His tone shifted into smugness. "The mermaid that stirred the dragon's
nest earlier today."
The hut entry was full of round woman a moment later. She practically bowled her reedy husband
over as she reached out and cupped Azula's cheeks with shocking intimacy. "Haha!" the woman
cried. Then she kissed both of Azula's cheeks. Azula stared at her in shock. Even after a week of
the informality of the Southern Water Tribe, that gesture was far too familiar.

"Come, come! You'll want a bath and dinner!"

The woman seized her hand in an iron grip, pulled Azula's arm over her shoulder, and practically
carried Azula as they hurried into a dilapidated town.

"Dragon dancer!" the woman cried. "My Yoshi's brought the dragon dancer!"

People stirred in all the huts, and soon enough there was a crowd staring at Azula curiously. They
were all similar to Yoshi in hairstyle and facial tattoos. They touched her, patted her shoulder, and
kissed her cheeks. She was led to the biggest hut in the village and poured a hot bath. The women
of the village bathed her, unwrapped Azula's hair from the Water Tribe braids that had survived
more than Azula would have ever anticipated, and fed her gamey goat horse stew while she sat in
the comfort of the hot water.

They rubbed her down with some sort of sweet-smelling salve, gave her bitter willow bark to chew,
and saw to her wounds. Her pain eased somewhat.

These people dressed her in garnet silk trousers gathered below the knees with padded shin-guards
and wrapped her in a surprisingly well-sewn silk tunic. The tunic was over ten years out of style; it
was a loop of cloth that covered her backside and swept up into the blue belt knotted at her waist.
She'd worn a similar thing during the war, hadn't she? Azula wouldn't have noticed in such detail
but they were very particular about how they dressed her; several arguments broke out through the
entire process.

"I want the sleeves tied," she demanded.

The women all looked at her for a moment, considered it, and then nodded to each other. "Yes, of
course. It would be silly to go without."

Finally, people who understood.

They gently eased her feet in soft braided straw sandals—though most of them were barefoot—and
drew her hair up into a high ponytail bound tightly in a clasp of stiff material. It was all rather
archaic.

It wasn't often that Azula perceived she was being treated like royalty; she always expected a
certain standard of care from her servants. This was one of those rare times in her life in which she
was aware she was being treated with reverence. The services weren't lavish, the clothes weren't
finely made, but clearly these things were done to the best of this people's abilities for this very
purpose.

Clad as she was, they sat her in front of a great bonfire in the center of the village. Its flames were
hot and yellow. As she looked at that fire, Azula felt it resonate with her chi. She sensed it was
ancient. Very powerful. If a flame could have a scent, this one would smell of musty ruins and age.
This fire was a piece of history.

She realized what had once graced the altar atop the great pyramid of the ruined city.

"This fire," said the chief of the village, "is the first fire."
She believed him.

The painted-faced chief told stories of the first contact between dragon and man and the
partnership that sprang thereafter. His story continued with intricate symbolism and fascinating
detail. Any other night she would have listened with the interest of a Fire Nation princess. Tonight
she fell asleep with her head on her chest.

They woke her up with roaring laughter.

"You've put her to sleep, Mani!"

Yoshi's formidable wife defended Azula. "She tamed a dragon today, you old coot. She'd
exhausted. Too tired to listen to you blabber on."

The chief's face lined with a scowl beneath his headdress. "Wake up," he commanded. "We will
see the dance."

Though she was dead on her feet and her body ached with every move, Azula's joy surpassed her
exhaustion, and she executed the dragon katas flawlessly. For the first time, this sequence she'd
practiced in bits and pieces thousands of times was accompanied by her firebending. Before she'd
finished, the dragon swept down from the sky and danced behind her, adding its fire to hers.

It wasn't a delusion of grandeur. This dragon was her dragon.

When she finished, the villagers were all prostrate on the ground. She had the vague idea she
would soon collapse to join them if she didn't sit down and close her eyes.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, swaying with exhaustion. "But I need to reach the
nearest port as soon as possible."

Half an hour later, Yoshi was at the helm of the largest and fastest sailboat the little village could
offer.

"How long?"

"With this wind, by dawn," he answered, his smile ever present.

Azula reclined in the bow of the boat and let her eyes fall shut. She was too tired to process much,
but she had to ask, "Are you 'gone fishing'?"

He was chagrined. "You saw that? Wasn't me. My brother left it up. I guess that ruined the whole
'ancient mythical tribe' thing."

"Who are you people?"

"I guess you missed that part of Mani's speech, huh? We're the Sun Warriors."

The Sun Warriors, still alive, still living in their ancient ruins. The only way these people could
have remained cut off from the rest of the world was by actively hiding. Apparently that hiding
method currently was as a simple fishing village. "Why did you leave the island?"

"You tamed the reason why today." He laughed and slapped his knobby knee happily. "Round
abouts twelve years ago we had visitors. The firebender touched our Sunstone and woke it right
up; royal blood maybe? No one knows why his touch did it. Anyway, she hatched a few years
ago." His expression soured. "And drove us away. As expected. Young female dragons can be
damn nasty, and that one is the nastiest we've known in centuries. A couple of fools of our own
tried to tame her, and they were a healthy snack. Now we can go back, thanks to you."

"That firebender was my brother."

He looked at her seriously. "Yes. You're Azula of the blue fire, also a naked mermaid." His grin
was wide and he wagged his eyebrows, but he straightened and went wide-eyed at her glare. He
cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly. "Yes, we've been wondering when you'd visit us."

"How?" she asked him.

"Your family likes our ruins. And our dragons like your family."

Azula considered for the first time Iroh's uncharacteristic title of Last Dragon of the West. She'd
wondered vaguely how such a man as Iroh killed the last dragon, but he had been an avid
firebender and a brilliant military tactician once. She'd assumed it all boiled down to him being
young and out for glory. This made more sense; it settled in her chest as an easy truth.

"Iroh was here."

"When I was just a boy. That one was an interesting man."

"He's my father." She was surprised she said it with so much pride.

Yoshi's thin eyebrows shot up towards his naked scalp in an expression of surprise, not doubt.
"Well… Mani will be interested to learn these things. All the more fitting the dragon chose you."

"Are there more dragons?"

His smile was tight with pride. "Ran and Shaw. They'll be back 'soon as their young one is gone.
They're old; the oldest remaining...and a lot nicer than yours. Your dragon was probably the last
egg they'll manage. We've been protecting that egg since the dragon hunt began. Now it's time for
you to take over. She'll lay many eggs of her own in her lifetime. You've earned the right to restore
them to their rightful place in your nation, Azula the mermaid."

"Are there dragons to breed with her?"

He smiled smugly. "There are wild ones that have escaped the hunt, probably many more than
your people would ever believe. Your female'll find a mate when she needs one…or they'll come
out to find her. The smell of a horny female dragon is a thousand times worse than Mani after he
eats a second helping of beancurd."

"Mine," Azula repeated fiercely to herself. "My dragon."

"With another dragon I'd be jealous as all fire. Not that one. You got a handful."

She grinned fiercely at the thought. His grin reflected hers. His smile softened as he judged her
exhaustion. "Sleep. I'll give you a kick when we get there."

She had no choice but to trust him as her eyes closed out of exhaustion.

Just as Yoshi promised, he gave her a couple of light kicks to wake her. Azula lifted her head off of
her chest with a tired snarl in time to see the first light of dawn break across the waters. They sailed
soon after into a small independent port nestled against a sheer mountain range. Azula could barely
believe her eyes when she saw a Water Tribe ship docked there. If it was the contingent from the
Northern Water Tribe sent in relief to their sister tribe, Azula would readily agree that she was the
luckiest woman in the world.

It was possible. A strong cold-water current rounded the western edge of the northern Air Nomad
islands. The cold water current mixed with the hot waters of the Fire Nation and exacerbated the
hurricanes that swept the Fire Nation territories every year. A contingent from the North Pole
might follow it instead of the small torturous rivers and taxed canals through the Earth Kingdom
lands.

As Yoshi helped her off of his boat, he said, "By the way, we don't exist. Don't tell anyone where
we are or what we do. Got it?" He slapped her shoulder with a grin; she barely contained her groan
of pain.

She managed to stand upright and limp slowly across the dock and up the plank onto the Water
Tribe vessel. She received a few odd looks from the people on the dock, but no one attempted to
stop her.

The small crew of the Water Tribe regarded her curiously as she limped aboard.

"May I help you?" asked a handsome clean-shaven man wearing Water Tribe blue. He looked like
he thought he was warding off a crazy woman. She couldn't imagine what she looked like to him:
beaten and limping, wearing old fashioned commoner clothing.

No matter what she looked like, she was Azula, the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation, and she had
tamed a dragon. Azula straightened, lifted her chin, and met his eyes with pride. The change in her
stance made him straighten in response. His curiosity sharpened.

"I am Azula, Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. I've found myself inconveniently stranded from my
wife, Katara from the Southern Water Tribe. Am I correct with the assumption you're the relief
sent for the late Masters Pakku and Noakka?"

The man's expression shifted in surprise, then grief. "Master Pakku is dead?"

Her relief was sharp joy. She was the luckiest woman in existence. Imagine that: Ozai had been
right about something. Of course luck was only what she made of it.

"It was a peaceful passing."

His eyes flickered from her feet to her face, reassessing her. His gaze lingered on the scar on her
throat. Either her words or that scar convinced him. He bowed in the Water Tribe style. "Princess
Azula, it's an honor to meet you. I'm Verack, Master Waterbender." He motioned to the tall, thin
woman watching them close by. "My wife, Hama, Master Waterbender. Welcome aboard; we
should arrive at the South Pole in three days."

A married couple. How fortunate. Little waterbender children would be good for expanding the
Southern Water Tribe's ranks. Hopefully these two would want to sharpen their healing skills on
her. The willow bark had long since worn off.

"Princess Azula." The woman, Hama, bowed. She couldn't quite mask her incredulity. "You're
incredibly lucky. We only stopped here overnight. We'll be departing in less than an hour. Would
you…" She sent her eyes up and down Azula's body, cataloguing her. "…like me to attend to your
wounds?"

Azula wondered if she should seek out Yoshi to thank him before they departed, but his distinctive
singing voice rang across the small bay from his rapidly disappearing boat. She watched that little
boat for a moment. Perhaps it was better this way.

"Thank you, yes," she accepted.

Hama led her to a furnished cabin within the first hall of the ship. Azula disrobed to her provided
loincloth, unconcerned at this point about being half naked, and sat down on a low cushioned seat
on the floor. The room was very Water Tribe though it was a great deal more lavish than anything
in the South Pole.

She couldn't suppress her groan of pain and relief as she sat down. Hama gasped at the sight of her
body; she was so shocked she forgot all etiquette. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." That was a certain truth.

Hama looked her up and down again, at a loss. "Where would you like me to start?"

"The foot," Azula answered immediately. It was the most debilitating wound, and probably the
most likely to become infected.

Hama unwrapped the binding carefully. The wound had been bleeding steadily all night, and a
sticky scab attached to the binding tore from her skin painfully. The waterbender drew glowing
water into her palms and closed her eyes as she cupped it against the arch of Azula's foot.
Interesting… Katara always kept her eyes open when she healed.

"This is deep. Has it been cleaned?"

"Yes. That was a particularly painful event." The Sun Warrior woman who'd scrubbed her foot had
used a hard-bristled brush and wasn't exactly gentle.

"Just a moment; this may sting."

Azula winced and muted her cry as a shot of pain raced from deep in her foot outward. She gasped
when it eased to a dull ache. She knew well what waterbending healing felt like, but it always took
her by surprise. "I'm not sure if you've ever felt a sting, but that was ten times worse than a Fire
Nation hornet. And Fire Nation hornets are five centimeters long."

She'd dared Zuko to kick one of their nests once, hadn't she? It would have been hilarious watching
him windmill and scream, but they'd both been swarmed. The only escape was jumping into the
turtle duck pond. Ozai had found them after their screams, and he'd laughed at the sight of their
swollen faces and the swarm of turtle ducks feasting on all the drowned hornets. Ursa had literally
snorted fire, but she hadn't spanked Azula, who had taken at least five stings to the face. The next
week had been shared misery with Zuko.

It was a wonder they both survived childhood.

Hama's lips pinched in irritation. Azula jerked when Hama's fingers brushed over the newly closed
wound. "I'll have to re-wrap it. You'll need a few more healings before it's fully closed. Don't walk
on it until I tell you that you can." She frowned in concentration. "You bruised your heels too."

"I fell well over fifty meters."

"How are you still alive?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

Hama frowned at the vivid, swollen bruising on Azula's shins. She hesitated. "Might I ask over the
Southern Water Tribe?"

One service for another, perhaps. "When I left a few days ago, they'd landed two whales." That
news netted a sigh of relief from the other woman. "The wild polar bear dog is dead. Pakku passed
peacefully. Katara and I married." Hama's eyes went to her neck. It was obviously what she was
looking for. "If I had been wearing it, it would have been destroyed."

"Well, we rushed for nothing." Hama seemed relieved, not peeved. "Why were you out here?"
Hama raised a hand. "Nevermind. I wouldn't believe you."

"My, you are an intelligent woman."

Hama's expression soured at Azula's sarcasm. She wordlessly resumed her healing of Azula's legs.
Unlike with open wounds, waterbending on bruises was immense relief. After Hama finished,
Azula leaned back and heaved a sigh. The swelling had gone down somewhat, and the ugly reddish
black bruising had softened to purple. She almost wished she'd been burned instead of these cuts
and bruises.

"My hand and arm next."

Hama sealed the gash in her palm quickly and reduced the bruising over Azula's bicep. While
there, she seamlessly expanded her healing waters over Azula's shoulder. She seemed to be
flagging in energy but continued on. "The joint is strained."

"Yes." Azula sighed in further relief as that insult was soothed. Now that her pain had eased, she
felt her exhaustion more sharply. Her eyelids went heavy.

"What happened to your ear?" Hama finally ventured, gently touching the lobe and inciting a sharp
sting of pain. "It's been completely torn open."

Clearly Hama was waiting for another 'you wouldn't believe me'. Her eyes went wide when Azula
actually answered. "A flail. Surprisingly painful for such a useless extremity."

"A flail," Hama repeated dubiously. She shook her head and didn't ask the obvious question. "I'm
afraid the lobe has scabbed up uneven. Would you like me to realign it? It will…sting."

Azula frowned in irritation as she considered it. No wonder sound had been a little muted in that
ear. There would be a scar, but she had no idea how uneven it was. She could take a little pain to
make it look better—Katara would probably be irritated if she didn't take this opportunity—and
keep her hearing as sharp as possible. "Yes, I suppose."

Hama held out her hands. She seemed to take a certain glee in saying, "This will hurt."

"What's a little sting?" Azula sneered.

The scabbing that had built up the last day was torn when Hama realigned the flesh. The sharp pain
raised tears to her eyes. Almost immediately, there was itchy relief as Hama healed the cartilage.
Azula leaned back in the cushioned chair and met Hama's eyes. "I cannot express my thanks
enough. And I rarely thank anyone."

"I got that feeling," Hama said blandly.

Azula forgave her; Hama and Verack gave her their room and bed in the estate cabin and she put it
to immediate use. She slept a deep, black sleep, and when she woke up hours later, she sat on the
bed and bent heat with her breaths until each steady breath was a flicker of fire.

How was it that she'd regained her fire? Had it been the life and death situation or had her dragon's
flame been the necessary spark for her tinder? Now that Azula examined her chi, she realized it
was a familiar comfort. Perhaps it had always been a mental block. This was a mystery Azula
decided was best not to explore too thoroughly.

Maybe it had taken the giving up to regain her fire, but in giving it up, she'd let it go. Iroh had been
right…but so had Katara.

She opened her palm and called up her fire with a sigh, carefully shifting the intensity of her flame
from red to blue and back again. The tiny flick of red undulated in her palm. The sharp blue was a
hot jet, even this small.

However it had come back to her, her fire was a gift. She would never take it for granted again.

In all those years she hadn't been able to call her flame, she'd only seen its uses: for fighting, for
light, for heat, for status, and for her brother's throne. Now that Azula held her fire in her palm
again, she realized it was simply a part of her spirit. It was an aspect of her life, no more and no
less. She'd been as wrong to give up on it as she had been to focus on its loss as a failure.

"I am Azula," she said quietly. Azula of the blue fire. Her name was no longer empty.

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer warmer clothes?" Hama asked for the third time. She had
changed into a full fur-lined parka with much more ornamentation than any from the Southern
Water Tribe.

Azula was quite comfortable in her silk tunic and sandals. When she'd finally had energy again, she
had examined her gifted clothing in more detail. The thin trim along the shoulders of the tunic
consisted of hand-stitched blue dragons. The seams were straight, though the ragged edges were
left open on the underside. It was both a marvelous piece of craftsmanship and a novice attempt.

This piece of clothing had been prepared for the dragon dancer probably as soon as her vicious blue
dragon hatchling was old enough to breathe fire.

She could sense that her dragon was near though she hadn't seen the blue female since the dragon
had danced with her for the Sun Warriors. Azula had a vague idea that their next confrontation
wouldn't be as peaceful. So far, the dragon seemed content to not approach while Azula was on this
wooden vessel. That would be a disaster. She was careful not to give any cues to coax a fight…not
that she could practice her firebending in any capacity on this ship.

Azula had pondered a name for her beast. The custom was to give a dragon a single-syllable name,
often an inanimate object: Blood, Flame, Spark, and Smoke were often used. But her dragon…

Her dragon was valuable: a symbol of the past greatness that Sozin had destroyed in many ways.
Her dragon symbolized a new beginning: for Azula and for her nation. She was priceless and in a
way, the first dragon all over again. She deserved a name with dignity. What that name was…
Well, Azula couldn't imagine it. She'd never been very good at that sort of thing.

Now she glanced over at Hama and exhaled a flicker of blue flame instead of the moist
condensation of her breath in the freezing air. "Firebenders don't feel the cold."

Hama's expression suggested she found Azula eccentric. She'd been making that face a lot the last
three days. The first 'eccentricity' had been the amount of food Azula had eaten in one sitting after
she'd woken from her long sleep. Firebending required energy; energy required calories; calories
required food and water. Azula would never have to worry about gaining weight again. She
thought of Iroh and amended her thought: she probably wouldn't have to worry about gaining
weight again.

Hama sighed and came very close to rolling her eyes. "Of course, Princess."

They both watched the icy shore of the Southern Water Tribe come into view. Hama made a
hushed noise beside her as she studied the village in the distance. "I didn't expect it to be so small,"
she said quietly.

"That's it?" Verack said as he took a spot along the railing with them. His tone betrayed
disappointment. Coming from the North Pole this would seem small to them, possibly as small as it
had seemed to Azula. She remembered Katara's fears and hoped these two wouldn't fulfill them.

"They've had precious little help from their Northern sister," Azula said in quiet defense.

Verack lowered his head in deference to her statement. "Unfortunately the few who came with
Master Pakku to the South Pole during the war weren't inclined to stay. Noakka was the only one
who did. We volunteered for this post because we knew we wouldn't betray Katara."

Katara's fears were more grounded that Azula had guessed.

When their ship settled against the ice beside the Fire Nation steamer, only three people greeted
them from the shore, and two of those people were not Water Tribe. To Azula's surprise no one
was actually on the ice of the bay, but the village seemed busy in the distance. Clearly Hama and
Verack were disappointed not only by the small village but also by the lack of enthusiasm for their
arrival. However they both brightened when Katara stepped aboard.

"Master Katara," Hama said, bowing. Verack bowed as well, but he allowed his wife to take the
first greeting.

Master, was it?

Katara reached out to hug Hama. Her eyes flicked across the deck and settled on Azula's sandals.
Her expression shifted in curiosity, and her eyes swept upward. Before her gaze reached Azula's
face, she jerked out of the embrace and moved towards her. Hama and Verack exchanged amused
looks; they knew they were invisible to her for now. Katara's expression shifted from shocked
incredulity to relief. She was a marvelously welcome sight after these days without.

"Azula?"

Despite being healed and having a few days' rest, Azula grunted in pain as Katara pulled her in for
a crushing hug. Katara pulled back. "What? How…?"

Katara searched her eyes. She touched Azula's scarred ear and looked down her body. She stripped
out of her mitten and held her hand out to feel the heat Azula radiated to keep herself warm in silk.
Katara's blue eyes flashed as her mouth curved into a triumphant smile. "You did it."

Azula reflected her smile fiercely. "I did it. You were right to make me go."

"Show me." Katara's command was fierce.

Azula stepped back and opened her palm. She commanded a small flick of red flame and turned her
palm. As she did so she forced more heat into it until it was sharp blue. What was a soft flutter
turned into a soft roar. Katara laughed and engulfed her in another hug. She met Azula's lips with
her own. It was more a smile than a kiss, but Azula enjoyed it. When Katara pulled back, her smile
was gone. Her gaze fixed on Azula's naked neck. "Where's your necklace?"

Azula hesitated. "I left it with the Avatar for safe keeping." A good thing she had, too.

Katara glanced around as if she were looking for him. "Where is he? Why are you on this ship?
What are you wearing?"

And this was where things would get a little sticky. The truth would certainly make Katara angry—
whether at Azula or the Avatar, she couldn’t say. "We should speak of this in private."

"Now." It was a command.

"Let it be known my wife is demanding," Azula said to Hama and Verack. The couple had been
watching them with naked interest, and now they looked embarrassed that their attention had been
noticed.

"Azula!" That was a sharp tone, one that meant danger was imminent, especially with Katara's eyes
narrowed like that...and all Azula wanted to do was kiss her and hold her close.

"Hello there!" Iroh climbed aboard with Ursa trailing behind him; trust him to want to make new
friends. He greeted Hama and Verack, providing the needed distraction. "I'm Iroh, Katara's father-
in-law, and this is Ursa..." His voice trailed off as he stared at Azula. His eyes swept across her
clothing. His expression shifted from shock to growing excitement. He lurched past them, nearly
bowled Katara over, and seized Azula's shoulders in an iron grip.

Ursa looked more surprised by Iroh's reaction than Azula's presence. Katara's jaw had dropped.

"You were there!" he said fiercely. "That was where you went?"

"Last Dragon of the West, are you, Daddy?" she sneered gleefully.

"You saw them!" There was no doubt, only joy and pride. Iroh grinned at her and laughed in
delight.

"What on earth is going on?" Ursa asked. She gasped in growing horror. "What happened to your
ear?!"

Iroh had said 'them'. Did he mean the Sun Warriors or, dare she guess, Ran and Shaw? "Them and
it," she replied, watching his grin widen. "Did you know, the earth actually bends down at the
corners?" She lifted her hand and curled her palm downward in demonstration. "Shocking to see.
The air that high is a bit inhospitable and quite cold."

Iroh's grip tightened on her shoulders, and his face softened in shock. "You rode? No one's ridden
in a century!"

"I've been sworn to secrecy of course."

"What is going on?!" Ursa shouted.

There was an awkward moment, and then everyone realized they'd be better off somewhere
warmer for this conversation. Azula lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder as she stepped
into the snow with her family. She sensed she might not make it to somewhere warmer. Somehow
she knew her dragon was closing in. Was it luck or a conscious decision to make this confrontation
occur on land instead of on a wooden boat?

"Oh, your beautiful ear," Ursa said.

"It's a pinna of skin and cartilage. Ears are not beautiful," Azula said in irritation. A distant roar
echoed. "And it still works enough to hear that." She leaned over to kiss Katara's alarmed face. "Go
to the village, and don't interfere unless they're in danger."

"Azu—" Katara's word stopped and her eyes went wide as she saw what had produced that roar. It
was a beautiful expression: all-encompassing awed disbelief. Azula wondered if that was what
she'd looked like when she'd realized what she was confronting on that stone bridge. Katara turned
that disbelief on Azula. "What are you...? Are you going to fight it?"

"Trust me, Katara."

Before Katara could respond, Iroh seized Azula's arm to draw her attention. "Don't kill it!"

"What kind of a fool do you take me for, old man? Why would I kill my own dragon?"

His eyes went wide. Abruptly Iroh turned and grabbed Katara and Ursa and led them in a jog
across the ice. Hama and Verack and everyone that had been aboard the small Water Tribe ship
followed them quickly, turning wide-eyed looks over their shoulders. Sailors were stirring aboard
the Fire Nation steamer, and one man pointed with a shout.

Apparently one battle hadn't been enough to tame this dragon. Why should that be a surprise?
Azula's dragon would be exceptionally wild with a mind of its own and the ferocious need to fight.
She welcomed the challenge. She was rested, fed, and prepared for this battle.

"Come on then!" Azula shouted roughly. "You're mine!"

Her dragon screamed again—an angry, challenging scream that resonated deep in Azula's chest.
Her dragon was beautiful in this place: alien and fitting all at once. She was the deep blue of the
ocean and the hot wrath of the Fire Nation sun. She turned that wrath on Azula now.

Instead of fire, her dragon charged her. Azula made a split second decision: she stood her ground
and seized her dragon by the horns. The impact shuddered through her body, but she offered no
resistance at first. Azula's heels skipped off the ice, and she gathered her breath and chi and
exhaled a harsh combustion beneath her feet. Their speed slowed as she turned her feet parallel to
the ground. Azula increased her fire until they were frozen in equal pushes. Her dragon's body
undulated with each wing beat and her head was lowered like a gemsbok bull against Azula's force.
Azula tightened her body, fire, and breath and pushed back against each forward propulsion.

Her fire roared behind her, a wonderful, beautiful sound of power. Ice cracked and shattered, and
steam swirled up around them both.

She stared into her dragon's slit pupils and snarled. The dragon screamed in frustration and threw
her head, sending Azula jetting away. Her momentum sent her upward but mainly towards the bay,
and she allowed her arc to continue. She needed the ocean, not the ice to land on. Her dragon was
on her heels, but Azula streamlined her body into a dive as she began her descent. She struck the
cold water and opened her arms into it. The cold didn't affect her this time.

She'd always wondered if she could firebend underwater with a powerful enough burst. What a
wonderful opportunity. Azula used what breath remained in her lungs and exhaled in a swirling
snap of fire around her. Water became steam, and there was an explosive burst of sound as heat
became fire in this moist sauna. She accelerated above the cold water that rushed in to cover the
cone she'd evaporated. It was rather like surfing uphill. Moisture steamed from her clothing as she
took to the air again.

Her dragon flew by her with another unhappy snarl and her tail snapped across Azula's back.
Because she was oriented, she easily directed her flame—from both feet and hands, power and
delicate balance and she was back!—to send her skating across the ocean back onto the ice.

There Azula continued her path, took two running strides on the ice, and spun to face her dragon in
a full on assault. She would not be satisfied to remain on the defensive this time.

She'd taken for granted that this dragon was hers. She would have to be certain during this dance.
She would hold nothing back this time.

Lightning would be a good start. She tore her poles apart, hovering on that odd precipice of pain
and exhilaration. Her bolt was powerful, shattering, white and deadly, and when her dragon
redirected it, it dispersed in the salt water in an impressive display of arched energy across the
surface. The dragon tried to match her lightning, but Azula seized it to her and sent it away in a
single move. Immediately she dropped to her hands and kicked a powerful wave of flame that
shattered ice and made the ocean hiss. Her dragon barely dodged the attack and could only scream
in retaliation.

She flew by Azula, but Azula anticipated the sweep of her tail. She leapt and spun in an easy dodge.
On her turn through the air, she used the trajectory of her body to coax her fire wheel attack. Her
dragon flattened to the ice in alarm. Azula's fire wheel spun over the dragon and sank into the ice.
The attack sliced off a curved portion of the shore that frothed as it sank down into the sea,
splashing cold ocean water onto the perfect edge of ice that remained.

The dragon was hissing in anger now. She tried to retaliate, but Azula commanded her own
dragon's flames and threw that retaliation right back in her dragon's face.

This battle didn't last nearly as long as the last one, but it was twice as fierce. The ice melted and
cracked, and several huge portions shattered from the shore to float away. Azula sweated with
exertion and from the heat of the dragon's flames. Their dance exceeded the power of any
firebending Azula had ever yielded. Her firebending had never been stronger, and her dragon knew
that.

She was not dancing to learn this time. She was dancing to teach.

Her dragon beat a retreat, and Azula knew she had to make one definite move to entice and
dominate in one. She took five heavy breaths to gather her chi. With her feet planted, Azula
exhaled and threw her fire outward in a ballooning curve: blue and hot. She repeated her move in
the rhythm of the fire that spiraled around her. And again, though this time she softened her flame
to red. Blue then red then orange, in every heat and intensity she could manage until her sweeping
spiral of fire was a massive roaring furnace that expanded around her.

Her dragon turned from its retreat and approached quickly. She flew in an opposing spiral above
Azula's flame, watching the display, and finally gave a roar: not in anger or aggression but in pure
joy.

Azula's fire spun away and fluttered out, leaving a strange melted spiral pattern in the ice. Only the
ice around her feet was intact. Her dragon swept down onto that melted portion and settled on her
belly in front of Azula. The noise she produced was a trilling croon, clearly a submissive stance
and sound. The ice steamed where it touched her scales. Her head lowered in the bow.
Azula resigned herself to it, drew her leg over that powerful scaly neck, seized her horns, and was
prepared for the rapid rise this time. She focused not on the ground but on the sun. She turned her
face into its heat and took deep breaths of the lower atmosphere to sustain her as they flew to the
freezing empty air of the upper reaches of earth.

She saw the frozen ice and tundra and dark blue ocean and the huge bay that sustained the
Southern Water Tribe. At the height of their climb she saw the tails of the aurora.

The dragon turned her head back down and they were falling, racing back downwards. The
powerful wings opened much later than before, and their entry back to the ground scattered snow
and ice with her heavy downbeats. Her dragon landed close to the wide-eyed gathered crowd of the
Southern Water Tribe.

Azula climbed off this time with little difficulty. She stood on her own two feet though she realized
that she'd reopened the gash on the bottom of her foot at some point. Blood had soaked through her
sandal and stained the snow red beneath her foot. Now that she saw it, she felt the pain involved
and shifted most of her weight off of it.

The dragon turned towards her. Her golden eyes were fixed on Azula, her torso expanded in
inhalation, and Azula had a moment to mourn the doubtless antique clothing she was wearing—
she'd wanted to save it and put in a museum or the royal gallery but—

She was doused in fire. Her clothes burned off in a flutter of smoke, and the ice around her
shattered and boiled.

This time, Azula didn't faint. She took that fire as her own and threw it back to her dragon. The
momentum of their flames turned into an upward spiral that jetted from them in flutters and flashes
of brilliant color, colors that Azula had never realized fire could be. It was both more beautiful and
more powerful than her earlier display.

Her fire was a gift, and in that moment, Azula knew she'd given that gift back: to Katara for
sending her on a dragon chase, to her dragon for showing her she could, to her parents for preparing
her to be worthy of the gift, and to the strong people here who had accepted her so readily.

Her dragon shrieked for joy, and Azula echoed her dragon with laughter. Their flame fluttered out,
leaving only its impression on her retinas. Her dragon slithered around her so gently. Her scales
were warm against Azula's naked skin. Her golden eyes blinked happily as they met Azula's.
"You're mine," Azula said again.

Her dragon crooned. Then, just like that, she unraveled and took wing. Azula sensed her hunger;
she was going to hunt. How strange to be able to tell. It was a tickle in her mind, a shared sensation
that she knew wasn't entirely her own. Azula's dragon had been too preoccupied following her
across the open ocean those last few days to address that hunger, and now that their drama was
settled she needed sustenance.

The dragon left Azula on the ice, naked as the day she'd been born with a crowd of curious
villagers gaping at her.

She wasn't a princess for nothing. Azula limped towards them with utmost dignity. Katara painted
a path across the ice and skated to her. Behind her, Iroh and Ursa had to approach on foot. Katara
pulled off her parka jacket, and Azula accepted it to cover her body.

Katara's hands were shaking; her eyes were wide. She touched Azula's face and arm as if making
sure she was real. "What was that? What the hell just happened? I thought you were… When it
breathed on you—"

"My dragon required more discipline than I'd realized." She touched Katara and kept her voice
calm, hoping to sooth her wife. "We haven't destroyed the shore, have we?"

"I can fix it," Katara said. What a characteristic statement.

She urged Azula to sit and swept water into her hands to close the gash on the bottom of Azula's
foot. Funny, that didn't hurt nearly as much as when Hama had healed it.

"I can't believe it," Katara whispered. "I don't know whether to be terrified you were almost killed
or awed because…" She shook her head. "A dragon! And your firebending was so beautiful. It's
like you've been practicing all these years."

"My dragon," Azula echoed fiercely, accepting Katara's help to rise. Her burst of pride was as
much for that as Katara's awe at her firebending. "I want to show her to your tribe."

"I'm pretty sure everyone in the tribe saw that. And a lot more of you than I ever wanted them to
see," Katara muttered. The joke fell flat because her tone was still fragile. "Is it coming back?"

"The dragon? She's hunting." Azula glanced around at the ice and snow. "It will probably take her
some time to find something to sustain her here. Maybe she'll bring it back here. I've always
wanted to see a dragon eat."

Ursa approached, panting from her run. She yanked Azula into a tight embrace, provoking a wince.
"I don't know how much more of this I can take! You have got to stop scaring me half to death. I
think I just lost ten years of my life."

Iroh walked up more sedately. He shook his head as he stared at Azula. "A young dragon. Where
did she come from?"

"Apparently Zuko couldn't keep his hands to himself and awakened her in her egg. Trust him to
leave me the hard part." She reminded Iroh, "Last Dragon of the West, were you?"

"I had to protect them," he said. "Zuko never told me that he'd seen them too. I wondered, since he
used the Dancing Dragon form, but he never told me."

"I can't believe he learned that form from statues." Azula took a breath and winced. "If you don't
mind, I'd like to find clothing before we have this long, drawn-out, presumably dramatic
conversation."

Before her parents could agree, Katara took over. "Come on. I'm giving you a full check-up. You're
covered in bruises."

Azula should have expected that; Katara was forever and always going to be her main healer. They
retreated to Katara's hut—Katara cowed all of her gaping neighbors with several pointed glares—
where she settled Azula in the bedroll. She frowned as she examined the deep gash in the bottom of
Azula's foot again. Her fingers palpated the wound, causing Azula to jerk and hiss. "How did you
do this?"

"Fulgurite."

"What?"

"Fulgurite. Crude glass made from lightning striking sand. Left behind from my first little dance
with my dragon."

Katara gave a long sigh and muttered something that sounded like 'dork' under her breath. "When I
use the word 'dance', killing and death aren't involved."

"I would have only been in danger if I hadn't realized it wasn't a fight. I had to show my dragon I
was worthy of its flame."

"Always the warrior. You'll need to be careful with this for the next few days or no amount of
healing will keep you from having a painful scar," Katara said quietly. She concentrated on the
nasty green bruising on Azula's shins, reducing the discoloration. "You've bruised the bone," she
said.

"Dragon tail."

She fingered the scar on Azula's palm. "I cut it climbing."

Katara carefully examined the ring of still bruised flesh around Azula's right arm. "Dragon mouth."

"She tried to eat you?!" The question was accompanied by a sweep of pallor. Azula put her hand on
Katara's face, and clarified, "I'm not sure what she was doing; she wanted to carry me off
somewhere. I didn't let her."

Katara rested her head against Azula's shoulder momentarily. Then she regarded Azula's ear
critically and touched it gently. "How did you manage this one?"

"I stupidly set off a booby trap. Rather embarrassing, actually. It was just a tripwire, which I
should have easily detected."

"Booby trap," Katara echoed. Her expression went tight. "A booby trap? Where was Aang for all
of this?"

Well, right back into a sticky situation. Azula hedged, "He had something else to attend to."

"He left you somewhere with booby traps and a dragon," Katara repeated back to her, digesting her
words with growing ire.

Azula hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. The Avatar was Katara's trusted friend; Azula wasn't
sure if Katara would believe her if she lied. Azula certainly wouldn't trust herself in this situation.
Katara looked back at her unhappily. "What aren't you telling me? Did something happen?"

Either she had to lie or tell the truth. Azula was unwilling to do the former. "He took me where he
and Zuko went, and he left me there."

As Katara's face shifted in anger, Azula continued, "Because I sent him away."

"You sent him away," Katara repeated slowly, a sign of rising temper."Why did you send him
away?"

"I wanted to do it for myself."

Katara sighed deeply. "Did he warn you about what you'd find?"

"No. I sent him away, and he left."

"He left you at that place without telling you about a dragon and booby traps?"
Azula pinched her lips, surprised and a little relieved at the direction that Katara's anger had taken.
"He may have gone back for me, but I didn't exactly sit around twiddling my thumbs waiting for
him. It's possible he assumed the situation was different where he left me." The Sun Warriors had
lived on that island when he'd last been, apparently.

Katara studied her. She shook her head again. "I can't believe he didn't insist on staying with you. I
don't understand..."

Katara hadn't seen the Avatar's face when he saw her betrothal necklace.

"I want to show my dragon to your tribe." Azula squeezed Katara's hand, and Katara looked at her
with an almost helpless smile. She asked, "Is it safe?"

"Now she will be." Azula paused. "Though I would be inclined to eat first."

Katara laughed, kissed her gently, and set the teapot and a pot on her fire pit to boil rice and tea.
Azula pulled on her carefully folded clothes and forewent the parka jacket. The wool and fur were
soft on her skin. A knock sounded, and Iroh, Ursa, and Ana ducked into the hut. Ana gave her a
little hug that Azula returned gently. They didn't speak much as they shared the meal. So much for
a dramatic conversation. Ana was happy to let the adults sit in their shocked silence. She hummed
as she ate rice with her fingertips.

Less than an hour later, they gathered everyone up and marched inland of the village, hopefully far
enough away that her new dragon wouldn't destroy anything valuable.

Azula stood in front of everyone currently on the continent: Water Tribe citizens and Fire Nation
sailors alike. This was her turn to give a tale, a new story. She paced the tundra grounds and
considered how she'd start. It had been easier with the Sun Warriors; they'd already known from
the beginning. She paused to look at the villagers.

These were strong people, close-knit and loyal. They were crafty and clever, and she knew they
made great warriors. These were good enemies during the war, but they were better friends now.
To have shifted between those roles so seamlessly was breathtaking. She wanted these people to be
hers too.

She wouldn't apologize for the war. An apology would be useless; it would mean nothing; and it
would cheapen what they'd lost and her own feelings towards it. She could never condemn war or
violence in its essence; they were the foundation of her country. But she could communicate that
these people had nothing to fear from her or her nation again.

Her voice was strong but rough from her exertion that day. "The very first fire given to man was a
gift from the great dragons of old. It still burns today. Dragons have been my nation's symbol of
power and wisdom since its founding, even when my people rode them like beasts of burden. Yet
my great-grandfather Sozin led the Fire Nation in the hunt for dragons, wiping them out. At least
that was what I thought until my journey.

"I can't tell you where I went or most of what happened at that place. But I'll tell you what I can. I
hoped to find the secret to firebending. I stood upon a stone bridge, looking into a black cave. A
scream emerged from that cave." Azula threw her head back and shouted, breathing fire with her
voice. The crowd gasped, but surely they knew she could produce much more impressive displays.

Azula smiled at the memory. "And I found the so-called secret to firebending. I saw a piece of
living history: a dragon. A living, breathing dragon—a feral female that wanted to kill me...as was
only fitting, of course. In that frozen moment standing under the assault of her fire, I realized that
there was no secret at all to my firebending. Either I would firebend or I would die. It would have
been a good death, dying to a dragon's fire, but I'm not interested in dying yet.

"I took her flame as my own, and in that moment I knew the truth. Fire isn't destruction, pain, or
power, as Ozai had always taught me. Fire is a celebration of life, as water is the essence of it. I
turned my fire on that dragon and that dragon turned its fire back on me. We exchanged flames but
never burned one another. It wasn't an Agni Kai. It was a dance."

She took a step sideways and turned on her heel, throwing out a fist and with it her blue flames.
They torched out in a clean, straight line. She slid back in the other direction, opening her feet to
kick a swathe of blue fire that swirled over the ground and rolled upward into the sky to disperse
many meters away. The ground hissed and steamed with the meeting of her flame. In her next kata,
her dragon swept down from the sky.

Cries rang out from the crowd as her dragon rolled behind her and belched out flame in time with
her own. The next pass, her dragon threatened to engulf her in fire, and Azula broke it and
retaliated. They continued the faux fight, which was nothing compared to their earlier duels. This
was for fun. Her dragon was playing, crooning and spinning flamboyantly as she flew back and
forth.

Azula let her dragon dictate when their dance had finished this time. These were formative
moments to ensure the dragon remained her own. She was careful to command the direction of
their flames so that no one was in danger. With each burst of fire they exchanged, she felt a little
securer in her relationship with the animal. Finally her dragon landed to circle her. She stopped
with a loop of torso wrapped loosely around Azula and faced the crowd with curious eyes. Azula
placed her hand on the dragon's graceful forehead.

"I welcome any suggestions for her name. I'm terrible at naming animals," she said, enjoying the
wide-eyed looks among her spectators. Azula scratched her dragon's eye-ridge, and her dragon
made a low rumbling noise of pleasure. Her third eyelid flicked up, and she turned her head into
Azula's caress.

Ana was wide-eyed with apparent delight, held tight in Katara's lap. Azula had no doubt Katara
was having the same thought she was: if she let Ana up, Ana would want to pet and hug the
dragon. She pointed at Azula's dragon and said, "Rakka!"

Rakka, the icy sea serpent that carved the grooves of the South Pole as it broke the island from the
mainland. The animal was a protector of the Southern Water Tribe, not a threat. Azula glanced at
her dragon. It was a fitting name in more ways than one for her blue and white dragon. It would be
a good break from the tradition of naming dragons after silly inanimate objects. "Rakka. That's a
good name."

"Is it the last dragon?" Hakoda asked quietly. He was reverent, and she could see by the tears that
rose to his eyes that he understood part of why she accepted the name.

"Not the last, the first." Azula stepped aside as newly christened Rakka unwound her body. She
kept her attention on her dragon, still uncertain about her reaction towards other people, but she
seemed more interested in the snow than the crowd. "I was told there are others, wild ones that
have escaped the hunt. When Rakka—" She liked the name the more she spoke it—"goes into
heat, they'll come out. And then there will be more dragons."

She would come into heat at least once every two years and hopefully produce a viable egg each
time—unless she differed in that. It was not beyond the realm of possibility given her odd ears.
Hopefully there were enough wild dragons to keep the line from inbreeding. They would have to
keep careful track of this dragon's bloodline, but Azula was certain dragons would once more be
the symbol of the Fire Nation.

Laughter rang out from the crowd. Azula glanced over her shoulder and watched as her dragon
gave a low groan as she writhed in the snow. She sneezed a hot burst of blue flame. That was a
habit Azula would have to break quickly. Rakka rolled onto her back, stretched her short legs, and
opened her great wings flat against the ground. Her golden eyes closed as she enjoyed the cold
snow on her scales. She was aptly named…a dragon that liked the cold.

And still a young dragon, apparently.

Through the rest of the day, Rakka punctuated her exploration of the South Pole with visits back to
Azula. The dragon's trips shortened each time and she stayed close to Azula more and more. She
seemed to gather focus on Azula being the central point of her existence, as was only right.

There was no violence towards anyone. Azula went out of her way to present the children to her
dragon personally, especially Ana. She held Ana against her chest and let her dragon take long
breaths of the girl's scent.

"This little person is to be protected," she told her dragon. Hopefully her tone would convey her
meaning...perhaps her emotions would transmit. Maybe it was silly, but if her bearded cat could so
quickly learn little people who sometimes pulled her tail were not to be hurt, a dragon certainly
could. Bright golden eyes regarded Azula. Rakka's pupils constricted and dilated again as she
focused on Ana.

Ana was fearless. She giggled and patted Rakka's snout gently. What was a dragon after a man-
eating polar bear dog?

Katara was nervous about the dragon nosing her little girl, but she didn't protest it. She was also a
little nervous about presenting herself to the dragon. Rakka gave Katara one sniff and crooned.

"I suppose you smell like me," Azula remarked smugly.

Katara flinched but remained admirably still as Rakka snuffled her body and then wound a loop of
sinewy torso around her legs. Katara touched the bristles that grew from the dragon's chin in
surprise. "I didn't know they grew fur."

"Some do, but she's exceptionally hairy for a dragon. Maybe it will grow out as she ages." Azula
considered her dragon's face and reached out to smooth her finger along the velvety edge of one
pinna. "I've never seen a depiction of a dragon with ears. Yet she has them."

"She's beautiful," Katara admitted. Azula felt a puff of pride. Katara continued on an odd note: "I
hope she doesn't eat Tonk."

"You will not eat my bearded cat," she told her dragon firmly. Ana reached out for her mother, and
Azula handed her over. Rakka blinked at her lazily. Her third eyelid slid up as Katara and Ana
began to rub her cheeks. Human touch must be such a new sensation, wonderful to this ferocious
animal.

Ursa was surprisingly fearless as she reached out and touched the dragon's broad muzzle, tracing
over the whorls of heavy scale that defined the top of her nose. "Beautiful," she said. "Absolutely
beautiful. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would see a living dragon."

Iroh was fighting tears as he regarded the dragon. "I still can't believe it. And her flame is your
own."
It was true. In all the violence they'd shared, Azula had not once been burned by her dragon.

He carefully offered his hand for Rakka to take a breath of his scent. She snuffed at him and
allowed him to place a hand on her muzzle. "A female dragon," he said quietly. Even with his hand
on the dragon, he didn't seem to believe her real. He smiled even as his expression broke in tears. "I
am so proud of you, Azula."

"I had to take after you in some way."

He jerked his hand from the dragon and seized Azula in a hard hug. Azula returned his embrace.
She had to say, "Thank you for being my father."

He cupped her cheeks and stretched to kiss her forehead. His beard tickled her skin. "Thank you
for giving me that chance."

Ursa, ever dramatic, was weeping openly. She seized them both and dragged them into another
hug. Azula laughed and humored her mother's emotions. She held out her hand, and Katara took it,
sharing her smile. Ana's little fingers reached out to catch Azula's sleeve. She giggled as Rakka's
whisker brushed across her face.

It was a new day of a new age, sure to bring changes that would have lasting impacts upon her life.
Azula would need her family to see the coming days through. Even with the joy she felt now, she
knew there would be sacrifices to honor this gift.
 When a loss if a victory

"Would you like to say anything to the Fire Lord?" Azula asked Ana. "He's your uncle."

"Poopy head!" Ana giggled. It was a silly insult she'd learned while Azula was away, much to
Katara's consternation.

She should have scolded the girl for her words; Katara would have. Instead, Azula said, "While I
may be inclined to agree, he is your uncle. You should refer to him as Uncle Zuzu."

That prompted a giggling burst of 'zu's. Azula smirked and smoothed out a blank scroll on Katara's
ink-stained writing chest. She wrote:

Most Prestigious and Powerful Fire Lord Zuko:

Greetings and salutations from the cold shores of the South Pole, et cetera ad nauseam. As much
as I hate wasting my time writing to my dumb-dumb big brother during my vacation, I thought I
should send word of my news.

Katara and I are married. We'll start wedding arrangements when we return. Katara also has an
adopted daughter named Ana. She's an intelligent little girl, which she's proven by proclaiming
you are a poopy head. Would you start the paperwork for her adoption for me, Fire Lord Poopy
Head?

I've had many interesting experiences in the South Pole. We'll be returning at some point in the
next few weeks. I do require a favor. Would you outlaw dragon hunting?

Your sister,
Princess Azula

PS: I can firebend again.

PPS: I tamed a dragon too.

Azula gleefully pictured her brother spitting out a mouthful of tea in shock as he got to the end of
her letter. She waited for the ink to dry, rolled the scroll, melted wax with her bending, and pressed
the generic seal for Fire Nation royalty into the wax before it hardened. Kota had packed two of
these seals in Azula's luggage. How Kota could have possibly predicted Azula might lose her
personal seal, Azula couldn't fathom. Her bodyservant proved to be dependable even when absent.

Next was the tricky task of dressing a wiggling little girl in her tiny parka, but Azula managed
without creating too much havoc in the hut. If she could feed herself and this independent little girl,
she could certainly dress her. Katara had been called away for a birth earlier that afternoon with a
list of quick instructions that hadn't been helpful in the least. Ana was critical of the crunchy rice
and the dry fish, but Azula had pulled out her trump card: she promised Ana could see the dragon
again if she finished her food. There were no more complaints.

They stepped out of the hut, and Ana let go of Azula's hand when they got to the newly restored
bay ice. She ran away only to run back again and again. What boundless energy.

At least until Ana slipped and fell. The fall seemed to scare her more than it hurt her, but she began
to sniffle and cry as she jogged back to Azula for a hug. Azula sighed and picked up the little girl.
"You're alright," she reassured her. And then Azula slipped on the ice and went down on one knee.
"Ow," Azula said dryly.
Ana giggled.

The man waiting for them by his small sailboat didn't hide his grin. His face crinkled oddly; he had
a heavy burn scar and wore an eye-patch over one eye. "Is that it?" he asked when she handed the
scroll to him.

"Yes. The seal should preclude any demands for money for its carriage. Thank you for taking it for
me."

"We're sailing up to the port to sell some wares anyway. I'm glad we didn't leave this morning or
we'd have missed your dragon taming. Darndest thing I've ever seen." The man grinned, displaying
a gap between his front teeth. The man's son waved at Ana, who waved back happily. Azula
flicked her gaze into their boat. It was filled with an assortment Southern Water Tribe goods. She'd
been silly to ever think these people depended on her ship.

"Bye-bye!" Ana called as they pushed off the ice and paddled into the bay.

The two men gave another wave before they unfurled their sails. They watched the boat sail away.
Ana put her head against Azula's shoulder and was apparently content to remain where she was.
After watching the quiet bay for a few minutes, Azula turned them back to the village.

Rakka swept down from the sky and settled on the ice. She had blood all over her head, and she
carried in her mouth a strip of bone, muscle, and gristle with a flap of gray skin along one edge.
Remnants of a walrus, perhaps? Apparently hunting had gone well. Azula paused when her dragon
dropped her burden onto the ice. Rakka practically preened as she presented her gory gift.

Apparently dragons were like bearded cats.

After her dragon licked her muzzle clean, Azula reached out to rub the velvety plate above her
nose. This was a peaceful touch, and Rakka heaved a great sigh and settled into a more comfortable
position to rub her face clean in the snow. Azula glanced at Ana, surprised the little girl hadn't
demanded to collect her reward for finishing dinner.

Ana was asleep on her shoulder.

Rakka curled up by her gruesome gift and closed her eyes to join in that activity. Azula was ready
to join them both. When she walked back to the hut she settled the little girl in her bed, lowered the
wick on the lamp, and buried her face in Katara's bed to fall into a deep sleep. She awoke
momentarily as Katara slipped in with her but couldn't stay awake for long.

Despite the outrageous nature of returning to the Southern Water Tribe with a dragon, the next day
started out normally. When she woke up fresh and relaxed from her long sleep, Azula left Katara
asleep in bed and took Ana with her to brave the outhouse.

After that terrifying chore, Azula sat in the snow and meditated in the sun. Ana was
uncharacteristically content to sit in her lap. Azula's heat expanded around them like a warm
cocoon, and her dragon encircled them and added her warmth as well. Ana kept a tiny hand on
Rakka's blue scales the entire time, and Azula fell into meditation even with those distractions. She
would ask Iroh to train with her soon.

For now though, she returned to the routine she'd maintained the week before she left. They woke
up Katara, shared a quick breakfast, and began their day together. When she and Katara—who had
been quiet all morning—led Ana to the town hall for her morning lessons, Mina was waiting there.
She looked at Azula and announced, "We're tanning leather this morning."
"Have fun." Katara kissed Azula on the cheek and left her in Mina's care. That her smile was
subdued bothered Azula.

Tanning leather turned out to be an interesting process here. In the Fire Nation, leather was cured
several ways. For supple leather, tannin—purified from a specific tree bark—was used. To create
harder leather used in armor, it was sometimes boiled. Here there were no trees, tannin was too
expensive to purchase, and they wore soft furred leather.

Azula had already been shown how to scrape the inner membrane off of a soaked hide, but Mina
was giving her more details about the whole process, including extraneous information that should
not have been mentioned. As they stirred the pelts in the big buckets of limewater, she said, "We
used to just chew the leather after it dried naturally."

Azula shuddered in disgust.

"I still remember my great-grandmother's knobby teeth. They were worn down to nothing after a
lifetime of it." Mina's smirk widened. "If you think that's bad: before we used limewater, we'd use
urine or animal dung."

Azula was horrified, and Mina was delighted by her horror.

It was an odd thing to look up and see Ursa standing at the tent entrance. With her elegant furred
robes and her topknot, she looked quite alien. Ursa's nose wrinkled at the smell of limewater, but
she didn't say anything. Azula excused herself with the promise to return after her visit with her
mother.

Ursa walked beside Azula through the village. The sun reflected sharply off of the ice, and in the
distance, Azula's dragon interrupted the line of flat whiteness of the bay ice.

Rakka had caused a stir earlier. After their shared meditation, she'd gone hunting and managed to
catch and return with a toothed whale. She'd eaten half of it and left the other half for Azula. The
villagers were happy to use it, especially the bizarre tusk growing from the whale's snout. Now the
dragon was asleep on her side, one wing half open and her torso twisted so that her short pelvic
limbs stuck up into the air. A few villagers and sailors stood watching her, but they didn't
approach.

"You like it here," Ursa said quietly.

"I do."

"What will you do?" Ursa's question was vehement. "You know your brother's going to ask—"

"I'll do what's right," Azula replied firmly. What that was she didn't know yet, and that made her
uneasy. She was as excited as she was worried. Putting the dilemma into the back of her mind
while she was still in the South Pole was almost too easy. She wanted to enjoy the time that
remained before she returned to the Fire Nation and the duties that awaited her there.

Ursa opened her mouth to protest, but then she shook her head almost sadly. Instead of her
question, she said, "I know you will."

After few silent moments, Ursa took Azula's arm and said, "I'm sorry."

"Well, that's an interesting thing to hear from you," Azula said neutrally. She squeezed her
mother's hand when her words didn't provoke an irritated response. "What are you sorry for?"
Ursa turned a bare look to Azula that was more perplexity and awe than Azula ever wanted to see
from her mother. "I didn't know. I had no idea. I was wrong when I told you your firebending was
a triviality. Azula, those first few years I hoped and prayed you'd never regain it. I was wrong."

It stung, but she wasn't surprised.

"I never realized you were so good. I had no idea. I have never seen anything like your talent and
ability. I thought Ozai was the best. You are a hundred times better than he ever was. And this is
after you haven't been able to firebend for so long."

"It's better this way," Azula admitted. "During that coup attempt, I thought about what I would
have done if I could firebend. In that scenario, I killed Zuko." She would have done it, and she
would never have forgiven herself. She would have traded her family and Katara for the throne
without a thought and regretted it for the rest of her life. It was an ugly truth Azula had examined in
herself in the years following Ozai's arrows.

Ursa made a noise of pain; Azula continued, "I wouldn't make that choice now."

"I know that," Ursa said with a sniffle.

"I loved firebending then and now. But before I thought of it as a tool; it was the means to an end.
It isn't now, and it never should be. Firebending is an expression of life; it's a joy to perform. It's an
art, as I so ridiculed you for saying."

"You called it life too."

Azula looked at her mother and smiled. "I said the words, but I didn't understand what it meant."
Her mind flickered with a few uneasy questions she wanted answered once and for all. "I would
like to speak to Iroh alone. Is that acceptable?"

Ursa smiled and kissed her. "Go. I know he wants to talk to you."

Azula sought her father out aboard the ship. When he ushered her into the estate cabin, he looked
in her eyes and lost his smile. They shared a pot of tea at the table in the center of the room and
regarded each other soberly. Azula was finally comfortable asking him, "If I weren't your daughter,
would you have pulled me out of that prison?"

Iroh's jaw clenched, and he remained silent for some time. Eventually he said, "No. I would not
have returned to the Fire Nation."

That was what she expected.

"Why did you never like me as a child?"

He took a long breath and looked at her in real shame. "I've wondered that myself many times. The
answer is ugly. I had many reasons, few of them deserved. The first… You represented the reason
why Ursa turned away from me. Those months with her were a breath of fresh air. I dreamed of
taking her as my wife, taking Zuko as my second son. And then Ozai returned."

"And I happened," she continued neutrally.

Iroh nodded gravely. "I suspected at the time that I might be your father, but you turned out to be
Ozai's daughter in every way Zuko was Ursa's son. I always thought a little girl would play with
dolls and tea sets, and you broke every expectation I had—and every toy I ever gave you." That
was offered with a smile. "You were an avid firebender, you were dreadfully mischievous, and you
learned cruelty from Ozai so easily."

Azula sipped her tea as she pondered that. It was all true, of course, but…

Iroh smiled ruefully at her. "You also learned his disdain for me. And then…then I lost my son."
His eyes filled with tears, and he had to pause to regain his composure. Azula couldn't imagine
what kind of pain he still carried for Lu Ten's death. "But I was the adult; I was to blame for not
trying to know you and teach you, especially after Ursa was banished. I assumed…" He took a long
breath and his voice went thick again. "I assumed that Ozai's cruelty was focused on Zuko. In the
face of my own suffering, I was blind to yours."

"Spare me," Azula said, though gently. "Ozai used violence as a tool, but that kept me alive during
the war. I don't respond well to soft words and gentle lessons if you hadn't noticed. Without
something to occupy me, I become especially destructive."

He smiled sadly. "Do you still think so? You suffered your first and only true loss because of
Sozin's Comet. You survived six months of captivity under conditions no human should suffer.
You lost the war, you lost your bid for the throne, and you lost your fire. And then you lost your
father. All of those things defined you. Instead of giving up, you kept living and defined yourself."

"It's all quite melodramatic when you put it like that," she said lightly.

Her derision didn't divert him. "You retreated to recover and occupied yourself with trivialities.
You gained a lover and regained your family. You returned in full strength to your nation, defeated
a coup attempt against your brother, fought and won an Agni Kai without firebending—the only
one in history won in such a way—and you survived certain death when the man you still trusted
as your father tried to kill you."

"I had help," Azula reminded him. "I didn't do that alone."

"Yes!" Iroh leaned forward and spoke fiercely. "And you accepted that help. You welcomed it.
That is as much a victory as anything else. You've grown strong again. You've taken a seat of
power in your nation and made your own family quite apart from that. You found your fire, and
you found a dragon. A dragon that is yours."

"I would have thought I was the last person in the Fire Nation worthy of a dragon." Azula's voice
betrayed more vulnerability than she liked.

"You are the most worthy," Iroh corrected fiercely. His words and his tone surprised her. "You lost
everything, Azula, and you've regained it all. You are hope and tenacity in one, an embodiment of
the best qualities of our people. Like your brother, you have faced much and have only become
stronger for it."

"Because I'm your daughter?" she asked him neutrally. For some reason she knew his answer was
important.

Iroh smiled gently and took a surprising tangent. "I told Ozai the truth before he died. I told him
that every effort he ever made to turn you into him failed. I told him that you would live your life
in great success as my daughter. That you would continue on the legacy of our family as my
daughter. But you aren't doing those things because you are my child. You're doing them because
you are Azula."

It was the answer she'd wanted. She wiped her eyes and met Iroh's gaze. She realized she had
grown to love this man very much, and that he had grown to love her. Maybe Azula should have
asked him what she should do when she returned to the Fire Nation, but she had a more pressing
question: "Do you think I could be a mother?"

"There is no doubt in my mind you will be a good mother. You've already become one," he said.
His eyes filled with tears. "And that is the greatest victory of all."

Azula had held so much hope for an interesting day after she'd returned from those draining
conversations with her parents to finish her leather-working chore with Mina. After a cold lunch,
Hakoda motioned for her to join him. Now she sat across from Hakoda in a sealskin kayak as they
paddled west into the bay. He was quiet, and she was bored. This was not in the least bit
interesting.

She remembered what Katara and Sokka had both said about Hakoda spearheading the efforts to
build the town hall. Just to start a conversation, she asked, "Why is the town hall constructed
differently than the other buildings?"

Hakoda put his paddle into the boat. He was subdued as he answered. "It's a prototype. I traveled a
lot of places during the war, and I saw a lot of building designs I thought might be more
comfortable than our traditional huts and igloos. Katara's hut is the first we built like that, in fact. It
was a welcome home gift after she came back from the Fire Nation."

A welcome home gift that was a house. That had a naked implication. Azula raised an eyebrow as
she remembered Sokka's story about that day. "Did Katara really announce to the entire tribe that
I'm excellent in bed?"

Hakoda scowled and guessed the source of Azula's information. "My son…"

"At least I know why you assumed I seduced Katara." She decided to get this silly bother out of the
way. "We didn't start in bed and we don't end there either. We were friends for months before we
realized we were attracted to each other."

Hakoda kept his eyes on the horizon. "I wanted her to break up with Aang. I knew she wasn't
happy with him. Mostly I wanted her home again. She couldn't be here if she was with him. And to
hear her say that she'd found someone in the Fire Nation. And then finding out it was you…"

"Did we…meet during the war?"

He gave a laugh of disbelief, and his teeth flashed white in contrast with his dark skin. "You don't
remember? I was one of the prisoners that escaped from Boiling Rock."

It wasn't a happy memory, and it provoked a scowl. "You and your family were horrid headaches
during the war."

They fell into silence until he asked, "Do you treat her right?"

She met his eyes. This wasn't a question she could dodge. "I try."

"How will they treat Ana?"

"As my daughter. I will accept no less." She smiled fiercely. "And the wonderful thing about being
royalty is that there are consequences to disobeying me."

To her surprise, he smiled. "I get the feeling you aren't a person to be crossed. I know you'll protect
them."
"Katara doesn't need my protection." The very thought was amusing, and Hakoda gave a barking
laugh of agreement. He said, "You're right about that. She wouldn't take it either."

They drifted in comfortable silence for a moment before Hakoda reached for the barbed spear he'd
brought in the kayak. It had a length of rope attached to its blunt end. He balanced it in his palm
and said, "This is a fishing spear."

As if she hadn't already guessed. Azula rolled her eyes, and Hakoda smirked. She had actually
piddled around with spearfishing on Ember Island, but in that scenario, spearfishing involved
swimming in the clear waters along a reef offshore and taking potshots at the small sharks that
lived there.

There was a long stretch of silence again as Hakoda waited for a fish to venture close to their boat.
When a fish did come, he shifted into a balanced crouch and gracefully speared it. The fish was a
char; it had a surprising red belly and speckles along its sides. It was big enough to be a meal for a
family. He explained their freshwater spawning habits and their seasonality as Azula took the next
turn. Hakoda gave the lesson on char for at least fifteen minutes before another fish swam close to
the kayak. Azula was perplexed when her perfect spear thrust didn't strike the fish.

"You have to aim lower," Hakoda said with a smug grin.

Of course. Light refracted in water. Azula shot him an irritated glance. "That would have been
helpful to learn before I missed."

He grinned at her snidely, but he lost his smile when her dragon flew overhead with a roar. Hakoda
lurched back, put a hand to his chest, and groaned. "Can you get that dragon to shut up?"

Rakka swept close to their boat and dragged her tail through the water, splashing them both.
Hakoda scowled as he wiped the beaded water from his parka. "I don't think we're going to catch
many fish with that dragon of yours helping."

"I think this is closer to playing behavior than hunting," Azula replied dryly. Rakka folded her
wings and dove into the ocean. The dragon used her snake-like body to swim beneath their boat,
which rocked against the waves she'd created, and she burst out of the water steaming, snorting
twin froths of water from her nostrils.

"A dragon." Hakoda's voice was tainted by grief. Azula thought she'd gotten that out of the way by
the name she'd given her dragon.

"She's no danger to you."

"Are you sure about that?" Hakoda lifted his head, and Azula was surprised to see tears slide down
his cheeks. "I spent years traveling the world, trying to fight the Fire Nation in any way I could so
that my children would be protected from the war. Every day I spent apart from them made me
miss them more. It was like my heart was ripped from my chest. I never expected to see the war
end, and I never expected to be back here, in my home with my family. I don't take a single day for
granted." His voice broke. "But every time I see Katara leave, I wonder if she's going to come
back."

Hakoda's snarling attacks were easier to deal with than this sorrow. Azula felt a twitch of unease
and a shiver of anger that he would assume she'd ever be that selfish. "I would never ask that of
her."

He gave a bitter laugh. "You don't have to ask. My daughter loves you, and she wants a family with
you. She'd leave us behind in a heartbeat for that."

As surprised as she was by his certainty, she was angry too. Her voice was sharp. "Hakoda, it won't
come to that. I know how important this is to her."

He wasn't swayed in the least. "It would be easier to believe if you weren't royalty. The Fire Nation
is your home. I know you can't give that up any more than I can give up the South Pole." He
scoffed bitterly. "And you have a dragon now. I'm not stupid; I remember your story. My daughter
will have to make a choice one way or the other, and she'll choose you."

He was right about at least one thing. Azula had no doubt that her mother's concerns were true:
Zuko would ask her to take the mantle of Fire Lord. His mind was occupied with dreams of a
utopian city, and she guessed the trade between his nation and that dream wouldn't be difficult for
him. And this time...Azula was in a position to accept. What she wanted was simple, but her
greatest desires precluded each other. She couldn't solve this problem without speaking to her
brother first. Even then… Azula could already see that someone would be unhappy with whatever
decision she made. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to make that person herself.

Hakoda saw that in her face, and he smiled bitterly.

They called off their spearfishing when Rakka continued darting through the water, and they
paddled back to the South Pole shore. Katara was waiting for them there. She had her parka hood
down, and her loose hair spilled across her shoulders. As much as Azula understood Katara
couldn't stand for her hair to be down, she appreciated it immensely. By her smile, Katara was in a
much better mood than that morning. Her happiness was both balm and stinging guilt.

"Did you catch anything?"

"One fish," Hakoda muttered. "Then that dragon scared all the fish away."

Azula rolled her eyes as she stepped onto the ice. "I'm sensing a pattern: you blame large animals
for your apparent failures to hunt."

"Keep that up and I'll slip some sea prunes in your next meal."

They began to drag the kayak out of the water, but Katara rolled her eyes and summoned a narrow
wave that set the kayak on the ice in seconds. Katara wrapped her arms around her father's neck
and kissed him on his cheek. "Gran Gran was looking for you."

His expression stretched in alarm. "Whoops. I completely forgot—" Hakoda began to jog across
the ice, apparently afraid of his mother's irritation. They watched him hurry towards the village.
Katara took Azula's hand, and her happy smile shifted to something less innocent. Katara turned
her blue eyes up and down Azula's body in a way that made her shiver in pleasure. Sometimes
Katara's gaze could be a caress.

"I know you don't have to wear that parka anymore."

She didn't, but Azula liked the way it made her feel to wear clothing Katara had made for her. She
also liked that she didn't stand out wearing it.

"You gave it to me. I'm not giving it back." Azula tried to be haughty, and Katara laughed. She
took Azula's hand and said, "Something occurred to me this morning: I've never had sex with a
firebender before."

"Is that on your to-do list today?" Azula asked. She smirked even as her heart rate increased. After
all these years, Katara had the act of rendering Azula into a helpless mess with one look down to
an art. Katara turned that look on Azula now.

"I just happen to have some free time. And we have a few hours before Ana's lessons end."

Azula laughed breathlessly. "You are a temptation."

They were in Katara's hut, in her bed, naked, and very close to enjoying the activity Katara had
suggested when she paused and looked up Azula's body. "I'm going to interrupt the mood here…
But can firebenders fart fire?"

Azula guffawed. What a question! Where had that come from? She lifted her head and raised her
eyebrows. Katara bridged her fingers over Azula's belly and settled her chin there with a sheepish
smile.

"Consider the mood broken. And that is one aspect of firebending that I never care to explore.
There are jokes and stories, of course, but I've never heard of a real incident."

"You've never tried it?" Katara asked. She began to snicker immediately, probably at her own
question.

"Princesses do not fart."

"Uh huh," Katara said dubiously. She pressed a quick kiss to Azula's skin. "I bet you think you
don't snore either."

Azula was appalled. "Bite your tongue, woman!"

Katara kissed her skin with greater purpose and lifted her mouth to Azula's breasts, causing Azula
to shiver. The mood was restored just like that. Katara slipped inside Azula and ascended to kiss
her. "Turn your head," Katara murmured.

Azula did. The warm coals pulsed in time with her breaths. She concentrated on stopping her input,
but Katara curled her fingers and rubbed within her. Azula's hips jerked as her body seemed to
hollow in pleasure.

"Stop thinking, baby," Katara murmured into her ear.

"It would be…oh! You—Katara!" Azula grabbed her shoulders and managed to blurt, "I don't want
to burn your hut down."

"You're warmer," Katara said quietly, apparently unconcerned. Her fingers found that place again
and rubbed. Azula tossed her head and gasped, guessing that Katara was going to wring her out
with pleasure and anticipating it. "Did you know that? You're warmer here too." She swirled her
fingers again and Azula's toes curled.

The lamp flared blue.

"Ooh, that felt good, didn't it?" Katara did it again, her expression smug.

Coals popped. Katara kissed her with a gentle sweep of her tongue. She murmured, "Very good. I
can make it even better."

Azula was powerless to respond in words. Katara continued that confounding touch, whispering
soft commands to relax, to let it happen, to trust her...and Azula did. She let go and focused only on
Katara's quiet, wicked words in her ear. When Azula came, her world slipped into gray
momentarily. Katara brought her back to reality with a long, smug kiss. "Good, hm?" Katara
brushed Azula's hair from her face gently. "Guess what. You didn't burn the hut down."

Azula was still gasping and relaxed bonelessly as she collected herself. She would have to pay
Katara back for that. No doubt they would both enjoy that particular revenge. Katara must have
guessed her thoughts because she smiled wickedly and pronounced, "I'm not finished with you
yet."

"Azuwa."

"Yes, Ana?" Azula asked, opening her eyes. She was tired but happy. Katara had left to check on
the new baby and mother with Hama after a delicious, exhausting afternoon. No doubt Katara's
task had ballooned into more…or into gossip. For her part, Azula had enjoyed the few hours she'd
spent entertaining her little girl while they waited for Katara to return for supper.

Ana bounced, and Azula hid her wince. She held Ana around the waist and steadied her. "I'm not a
trampoline."

"What's that?"

"A platform made out of supple leather. You bounce on it. As you should not bounce on me."

"A bwanket toss!" Ana said in recognition. She stopped bouncing, for the moment at least. Azula
returned her hands behind her head and relaxed onto the pelt that lined the wood floor. Ana smiled
at her so sweetly and flopped on Azula's chest to give her a squeeze around her neck. Azula lifted
her head to give that little head a kiss. Ana could be a busy, independent little thing, but she liked to
sit with the adults in her life for much longer than Azula's niece or nephew. She hoped the three
children would be quick to mesh.

Katara stepped into the hut with a current of cold air. She pulled off her parka and paused when she
looked up. Katara's smile was slow but full as she saw them. Ana lifted her head and was quick to
clamber off of Azula. She put her knee sharply against Azula's bladder as she did, drawing a wince.

"Mommy!"

"Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good day?"

"Uh huh! Azuwa is the Princess and the Mongoose Dragon!"

She'd gotten quite a few points for that fact. Apparently it was Ana's favorite picture book. Katara's
expression shifted into a faint frown that she directed in part to Azula. Surely she couldn't protest
Azula reading a picture book to her child. "I'd guessed. Ana, never ever try to ride a mongoose
dragon."

"They aren't that dangerous," Azula protested. Katara gave her a pointed look, and she amended
her statement. "Not the hatchlings, at least."

"You didn't try to ride a hatchling."

Azula considered Ana's past record with dangerous animals and pulled a face. "Ana, you are never
to try to ride a mongoose dragon without my supervision."

"What?" Ana turned to Azula with wide eyes. "What's that?"

"Supervision. It means that I'm with you and aware of what you're doing."

Ana frowned in consideration. She was still working out the term camouflage, using it as much as
possible. Now she had another big word to learn. Katara settled by the coal pit and sighed—a sigh
that could have been happy or sad. "I was thinking we could leave next week if everything goes
well."

Azula sensed some reluctance in that statement. "Before you get your third whale?"

Katara smiled. "Nema can guide the kayak. She did earlier, when you were gone."

"But you didn't get it?"

Katara's smile broadened. She was proud. "She sensed it had a calf. We don't take mothers. She
made the right choice."

Even as hunters these people were gentle. It was an interesting balance, one that probably ensured
the whales would survive and propagate enough to sustain the Southern Water Tribe through the
ages. They took no more than they needed and were careful about what they did take.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"I miss the Fire Nation," Katara admitted. Those words were a pleasant surprise. "I've been away
for a long time."

"Is Kanna ready for you to go back?"

"Actually, I think I've convinced her—or Iroh has—to come with us to see the Fire Nation. If that's
okay."

It would be good for the woman to experience something wholly new after the loss of Pakku, and
she wouldn't be parted from Katara or Ana. It would be good for Katara too. Azula reached across
the fire pit to squeeze Katara's hand. "That's okay," she said firmly. Ana put her little hand on
theirs and echoed Azula. "That's okay!"

All three of them jumped when someone rapped on the wooden support of Katara's door. "Aang's
here!" came the cheerful call.

Azula didn't bother with her parka jacket. She hung back at the entrance to the hut and held Ana
back from greeting the man. Katara hurried forward into the sunny cold day to greet the Avatar,
who stood just outside of Katara's hut. Either he didn't see Azula or he didn't recognize her in these
clothes. He carried her lopsided shoulder-bag in his hand. Instead of a happy returned greeting to
Katara, he was uncharacteristically somber. He was pale, and deep shadows ringed his bloodshot
eyes. Had he been crying?

"I'm so sorry, Katara." His voice was uncharacteristically rough.

Katara hesitated. "Sorry? For what?"

"She… I…" He held out Azula's betrothal necklace in one hand. His fingers were trembling.
Katara's shoulders stiffened. A murmur broke out among the few people who had come forward to
greet the Avatar. His shoulders shrank. He'd grown to be a fairly tall man, but he didn't look it now.

Azula bent down to Ana. "Go inside." Whatever was in her expression or tone, it caused Ana to
obey her without a word.
She stood and walked towards the Avatar; her sealskin boots were soft against her sore heels.
"What are you going to say, Avatar? That you killed me? Or that I bullied you into leaving me on
that island?" Azula asked, finally ready to goad him into a fight. She could kill him now with her
firebending and be done with this animal fear that made her stupid and angry. "What a pleasure to
see you again. How is the beautiful Lady Fafa?"

“Azula,” Katara warned sharply.

The Avatar's face had gone white at the sound of Azula's voice. His wide eyes looked between
Azula and Katara in frozen horror. She'd been right; he hadn't expected her to be alive. She held out
her empty hand. "I would like my belongings returned."

"I thought you were dead," he said fearfully. No doubt his fear was more about Katara’s reaction
than of Azula. Perhaps she could change that.

Katara went still. "Dead?" she said quietly. Even though that word wasn't directed at her, Azula felt
a shiver of fear.

"Then…you can bend," the Avatar said quietly, addressing Azula.

"Thanks to you." Azula looked him in the eye and let him judge her thoughts: test me now, Avatar.
“Or no thanks to you. No doubt the majority of the damage you witnessed on that island was from
me.”

“Ran and Shaw—”

“Dead." Azula said it only to horrify him. She ignored Katara’s interjection. “It turns out I am the
Last Dragon of the West.”

His color returned in a red flush, and his apparent guilt became anger. "You don't deserve her!"

So it had turned into that sort of confrontation. How droll—though it made her task of angering
him significantly easier.

"Yes, I'm sure," Azula replied with a sneer and a twitch of her hand. "Clearly I'm the evil Fire
Nation Princess, and I use Katara as my waterbending concubine. I must have seduced her, and I
keep her as a trophy for my bed. She will never be allowed to leave the Fire Nation, and I will bear
heirs from strong firebending Fire Nation noble men while Katara serves me in the bedroom.”

She paused, watched Aang’s face go white, and laughed. “Is that what you really believe? For
someone who touts Katara as much as you do, you don't seem to think she's good enough to be my
wife."

"That's not what I said!" the Avatar shouted. She'd made him angry with her statement. This was
delicious anger, and she wanted to draw out more. She wanted to see him squirm. She could match
him now.

"Both of you stop it!" Katara snapped.

The Avatar stepped towards Azula aggressively. "It took you ten years to come here! Ten years
Katara waited for you to see her home and meet her family, and even though you made her wait
that long she still married you! And you'll probably never come back here again!"

Azula looked into his eyes and drove the knife deep. "The pathetic thing to me, Avatar, is that you
pine over a woman who would never have loved you even if I didn't exist."
She realized what he was going to do just as he threw his arms up with a roar of anger. She was
encased in ice a second later. Azula used her flame to shatter that ice away from the huts and let out
a burst of fire to propel her across the ground, away from the Avatar. She couldn't attack him with
the village to his back. She could beat him; she knew that. But she couldn't do it while trying to
prevent the destruction of a village-worth of people and property.

"Stop it!" Katara screamed. The villagers were all scrambling away…for good reason.

The Avatar threw a burst of fire towards her, and Azula broke it easily. She sneered at his measly
flame. She settled into the steady stance of the dancing dragon and waited for his next attack. He
didn't disappoint; he cracked up a frozen patch of earth and kicked it at her. The ice within cracked
when her flame scorched it, and it shattered with her kick, peppering the ice wall but causing no
damage. She'd have to get beyond the wall before she could fight him evenly; she'd have to do so
to make sure he didn't destroy any more of the village.

She jumped, combusted fire beneath her feet, and spun past the air attack he swept at her. She gave
another burst of fire to redirect her momentum upward. Another powerful surge and she was
sailing out onto the tundra. The Avatar chased her on a swirl of air. She gave a steady exhale as the
flame from her hands and feet shot her across the tundra. When she dropped onto the ground, she
ran before her momentum slowed enough for her to stop. She spun and punched a burst of fire at
the rapidly approaching Avatar.

He breathed a blast of icy wind to disperse her flames as he landed near her. With two jerks of his
arm, he sent ice projectiles streaking towards her. Azula simply rolled her shoulder, exhaled, and
brought her flame around her like a cloak. The sharp ice hit her fire and boiled away into nothing.

Then a very angry dragon gave a very angry scream. Rakka flew down in front of Azula, and there
was a crackle of static as her dragon coaxed lightning. The Avatar stared up at her dragon with his
mouth open; his assault stopped momentarily.

Rakka rotated her body and sent a bolt of lightning at the Avatar. It wasn't particularly powerful,
but it could kill him. His gaze sharpened as he seized it. He redirected it—at Azula.

It was a round robin of lightning redirection. What had started as a small bolt from Rakka gained
strength as it passed through the Avatar's core, and it took Azula's breath away as she redirected it
inland, where it shattered the ground in a massive crash of thunder and a shocking ring of static.
The Avatar was gaping again, but his shock was at Azula, not her dragon now. Perhaps at himself.
Lightning was the ultimate killing element, and he touted himself a pacifist.

She laughed; her fear was gone in a rush of adrenaline. She understood this kind of fight, and she
thirsted for it: battling another master bender. Lightning was fine—powerful but understood.
Azula would rather lightning a thousand times over than energybending.

The heat of battle sometimes turned people to using more force than they realized. How many
times had Ozai nearly killed her as a girl because of his anger at her skill in battle? The Avatar
would be no different, especially if fighting in a rage. It gave her an excuse to end him. She hadn't
turned the lightning back on him because in that half-second, she hadn't realized this was a battle to
the death. Odd that her first reaction wasn’t to just end his life, but she had free rein now.

Now…now she would kill him with her fire.

First she had to get rid of Rakka. Azula didn't need her dragon's help to win this battle. She wasn't
willing to risk her either. A small zap of lightning and concentration on the command 'go away'
was enough. Rakka shrieked in rage and retreated with a heavy burst of air from her wings.
A boulder of frozen earth came straight at Azula's head. She dropped onto her hands, balanced
there, and swung her leg under her lifted right arm. As she did so, she exhaled, and a rolling wall of
fire coned outward from her feet. Left in its wake was steaming, rippled snow. The Avatar tried to
stand firm in the face of the attack, but apparently he hadn't expected the force of her fire. He broke
enough to not be burned, but he staggered backwards.

Azula continued her motion to gain her feet and coaxed her flame as she did so. The Avatar lifted
his hands in a burst of air that saved his life, but he continued to stagger off-balance. She took a
step forward, steady and firm, and her next attack sent him to his back on the ice.

In just a few seconds she had uprooted him and knocked him down to the ground. Apparently he
hadn't expected her strength; the element of surprise was useful after all. He would die for
underestimating her.

Azula grinned fiercely as she took a breath and lifted her hand. She was about to deliver the death
blow to the Avatar. He knew what was coming. His eyes went wide and he yanked ice around
himself for protection, but it would never be enough, not from her flame. She was going to kill her
enemy in glorious battle. Princess Azula, Vanquisher of the Avatar! She would kill her fear, burn it
to nothing, and render it moot, cleanse herself of it out on this frozen tundra.

"Stop!"

Azula stopped before she consciously understood those words or who had screamed them. Katara
approached on a swath of ice, but she was too far away to do much more than scream. Katara had
served as Azula's moral compass even contrary to her first instincts, and Azula obeyed the certain
command as much as she understood it was right to obey. She exhaled and her fire came, but she
shifted her weight and sent it roaring and tearing up earth and ice and snow to her left. Her attack
left a massive scar meters deep into the tundra. It would have killed the Avatar easily.

Azula had stopped.

The Avatar didn't.

When he broke from his ice shield, his eyes and tattoos were glowing. He levitated forward faster
than Azula could have anticipated. Instead of using flame or earth or ice or air, he reached out with
his bare hand. After the explosive speed of his approach, he hovered in front of her in utter
stillness. Then his thumb gently touched her chest.

Just that small touch stripped her of everything. Azula was paralyzed. Her muscles turned to liquid
and she fell to her knees, staring up at his inhuman face. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and
couldn't protect herself in any capacity with that paralyzing touch on her chest. She'd been so
certain she would win. She could have, but winning would have meant she'd lose what she valued
most in her life.

And now she was going to lose her bending all over again.

This was her nightmare in every form: the paralysis and her helpless terror.

How had it come to this? Punishment for goading him all these years, perhaps. Punishment for her
very fear of him and his power. What a fool pride had made her.

Azula was certain of the next moment: the Avatar's second thumb brushing her forehead and the
screaming terror of him reaching into her soul. Would she feel a spiritual rip or would she only feel
his intrusion? She watched his right hand descend.
In that moment an unexpected emotion settled over her: she felt peace. She'd been able to enjoy her
firebending for just these few days, but it was better than not at all. This would change nothing
about her life or her spirit. She was Azula, even if she couldn't command her namesake. She would
face her greatest fear, undergo it, and survive past it.

And life would be simpler without bending. Easier.

She accepted her fate with dignity and watched his second thumb reach towards her face.

Abruptly, that thumb jerked backwards, and the Avatar's wrist twisted. His entire body flexed and
bowed. His feet lifted from the ground. His right arm continued moving until it was twisted at a
painful angle well away from Azula's body.

Behind him Katara's hands were up in waterbending stance, and her face was tight in concentration.
Bloodbender. She was bloodbending the Avatar.

"Don't touch her, Aang!" Katara snarled.

The Avatar groaned, and his body lurched as Katara shifted her hips and levitated him back. The
glowing white of his eyes faded and was replaced by tears. His thumb fell from Azula's chest.

Azula took a gasping breath where she remained on her knees. A second gasping breath, then she
exhaled a flick of fire. Azula put her hand in the snow and got to her feet. She walked away as tears
slipped down her cheeks. She'd faced the nightmare and lost. She hadn't expected to be rescued.

Lying on his back on the ground, the Avatar moaned. He curled up and put his hands over his face.
Through them, his words were barely audible: "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry…"

Katara ran past him without a look and wrapped her arms around Azula's shoulders. She looked as
faint as Azula felt.

"Are you okay?"

Azula steadied herself against Katara, and Katara wiped away her tears. She managed to say, "I'll
survive. A little terror never did anyone any harm." She looked at the Avatar, surprised that in that
moment all she really felt was pity. Azula leaned forward and rested her forehead against Katara's.
"I was going to kill him. Thank you for stopping me."

"I should have let you." Katara was crying too, but these were angry tears by the set of her mouth.
Azula couldn't imagine what kind of betrayal this felt like to her wife; despite Azula’s own part in
this battle, Katara was sure to take this personally. After a few moments in a reassuring embrace,
Katara took her hand and walked them by the Avatar without a word.

Azula didn't say anything as they walked back to the village. She was fairly certain she'd get a
tongue-lashing as soon as Katara calmed down enough from her anger at the Avatar to realize she
was angry at Azula too, but in that moment, Azula was too relieved to care.

She glanced back over her shoulder and watched the Avatar slowly get to his feet. He was quietly
crying. He was just a man, just a human with his own motivations and needs. His name was Aang.
There was no reason to fear him anymore and certainly no reason to tout him by his title. Aang.

"Katara!" he called desperately.

Katara didn't turn around. Her expression didn't change, but her grip on Azula's hand tightened.
There were a few people at the village wall waiting, but they took one look at Katara and made
themselves scarce. Azula's dragon swept down hesitantly and managed a contrite croon. Azula put
her palm on Rakka's snout to soothe both of their emotions. She'd been afraid the little incident had
damaged the bond that was growing between them, but Rakka hadn't reverted to wildness. Her
dragon slithered into the village and coiled into a guarding mass in front of Katara's hut.

Azula stopped to pick up her shoulder-bag from where Aang had dropped it. Katara touched her
shoulder and reached out to tie on her betrothal necklace wordlessly. When they ducked into
Katara's hut, Ana looked up at them in apparent relief. She wordlessly requested a hug, and it
wasn't difficult to give to her.

Azula sorted through her bag, shaky but falling into a calmness she remembered post-battle during
the war. Ana recited the items within it. Her dragon dagger—with the certain command: "No
touching"—personal seal, and the money pouch were all there. Aang had kept her things safe for
her; she had to give him that. It must have been a temptation to destroy at least her betrothal
necklace.

Through all of that Katara sat and brooded in silence, staring into the coal pit. This was the
downside to such a small living space: no privacy to be angry.

Azula realized she would have to distract a worried three-year-old. She went over to the trunk and
pulled out one of Laza's illustrated books. Ana couldn't read yet, but Azula traced her fingertip
down each character as she read it aloud. She'd learned with her niece and nephew that children
liked a certain cadence and enunciation. She couldn't quite manage it in the fragile silence of the
hut.

A knock sounded against the outer edge of the hut.

"Go away!"

Katara's sharp tone scared Ana. It was a little intimidating to Azula. Someone pushed into the hut.
Kanna's wrinkled face was drawn in a chastising frown. "That is no way to speak to your
grandmother, who just braved a dragon to come get you."

"Gran Gran." Even as an adult, Katara was cowed. "I'm sorry. I was…"

"You're angry at perhaps a few individuals today." Kanna's gaze flickered to Azula, who had to
look away. The old woman folded her arms. "I'll feed this little one and get her ready for bed. Both
of you should go to the town hall to talk to each other."

"I don't want to even look at him—"

Azula knew Katara needed this. She said, "Even if you don't have anything to say, I have a few
questions. I'd prefer your certain protection in case my questions provoke his anger again." But as
she said it, she knew there would never be another attack.

They kissed Ana goodnight, and Katara finally softened into Ana's tight hug. When they stepped
out into the cold, the village was conspicuously silent. No doubt everyone here knew what kind of
temper Katara hid behind her general good nature, and they were staying well out of the way.

Aang sat in front of the main fire pit in the town hall. He was pale and unhappy. When they
entered, he stood up. He looked into Azula's eyes with remorse and bowed deeply. "I'm so sorry,
Azula. I'm can't express how sorry I am.” His next question was desperate, perhaps a little
defensive. “Why do you keep making me angry on purpose?”
She looked back at him evenly, did not bow, and did not sit down. "Because I hate being afraid,
and I’m afraid of you.”

Aang looked at her as if she’d said the strangest thing in the world. Katara shifted in obvious
surprise.

“It horrified me when I learned of what you did to Ozai. What you did was far worse than killing
him. I had nightmares about you stripping my bending for years."

He flinched, but she continued on. That hadn't been the point she wanted to make.

"Ozai remained alive as a prisoner in deplorable conditions. I had to petition for his comfort. And
even with what comforts I could give him, he lived in two rooms—the same two rooms—for the
rest of his life without any hope of freedom. His anger at his situation multiplied and stagnated.
Zuko and I were lucky that his anger manifested as an attempt on my life. You and I are both lucky
that the arrow meant for Katara was never loosed.

"Avatar Aang, did you consider that Ozai could still hold great sway in the Fire Nation after the
war ended? That he could have organized a coup to murder my brother? That he could have
destroyed the Fire Nation with his very presence? That as miserable of a man as he was, he
deserved an honorable death in battle? And that the last thing my brother ever needed in his life
was to give the order to execute his own father?"

Aang shook his head slowly; he looked absolutely exhausted. "No, I didn't. But I wouldn't change
what I did to Ozai. I am, though, deeply sorry about what I tried to do to you. There’s a time and
place for energybending, but that wasn’t it."

"You should be. You put yourself in a situation that had two possible results: you would strip my
bending, or you would be stripped of your own."

His eyes went wide.

Azula smiled into his shocked face. Her words were a bluff in a way; it hadn't even occurred to her
until now their confrontation could have ended in such a way. "Toph Bei Fong and I regularly
correspond. She seems to think that if you attempt to energybend without a pure of spirit, you lose
everything. Earlier, when you fought me in anger and jealousy, was your heart pure?"

He took a long, fragile breath and nodded. "No. You could be right. Katara, thank you for stopping
me."

Aang looked at Katara with hopeful remorse. Katara ignored him. Her shoulders were a tight line
and her arms were folded defensively. Katara's eyes looked almost clear with her anger, and her
gaze remained on the fire pit. Her jaw was set in a hard, stubborn line. Azula wasn't sure she'd ever
seen Katara this angry. Apparently Aang hadn't either. His expression broke.

"You hold a power that is devastating and horrifying, Avatar Aang. I hope that in the future you
will wield it responsibly." She met his eyes. "You are not above reproach. You are not above our
laws. I am bound to protect the people of my nation. And I can beat you."

He nodded slowly even as his beard-covered jaw tightened. Aang didn't quite believe it, but she'd
put some doubt in him. He'd put some doubt in her too. Perhaps they were both mutually deterred.
"Noted," he said quietly. He turned to Katara in desperation. "Please, Katara, I'm so sorry."

"You were my friend." Katara's voice was choked with tears. She didn't look at him to see his
boyish face break at the past-tense in her statement. "Why couldn't you just be happy for me? Is it
that hard? Can't you just give up on me?!"

“I just want what’s best for you, Katara.”

“Azula is. She loves me. She’s my wife, Aang. I love her, and I will always choose her. I can’t
forgive you for this. Not only did you leave her alone on a dangerous island, you didn’t give her
any information about what she would face. You used lightning against her, and you tried to
energybend her!”

“I thought she was going to kill me! She said she killed the dragons, and all the things she’d said
about sleeping with other women and liking you only for your body—”

“And you!” Katara shot a look of pure frustrated anger to Azula, who flinched. “Stop it! I don’t
care if Aang makes you piss your pants; stop provoking him!” She turned back to Aang. “She calls
me ‘darling’, sends my family gifts here, visited me when I asked her, will marry me back in the
Fire Nation despite all the hassle because I want it. She's adopting Ana as her child. She loves me,
she’s lying to you to make you angry. Trust me. Would I ever tolerate all those things you say
she’s said?”

She turned back to Azula and pointed at Aang. Her eyes were sharp, flecked with pale blue like
ice. “This man is the gentlest person I’ve never known. He once nursed a baby cat owl to health by
hand-feeding it for three weeks. He always offers help when he’s asked, and he has never met a
person he doesn’t like. He's always been there for me, and all he wants is for everyone in this
world to be safe and happy.

“I love both of you so much, and it hurts me that you can’t find a way to at least tolerate each
other. Every fight, every lie, every time you insult each other, you’re hurting me.”

Aang’s shoulders rounded down; he looked as cowed as Azula felt. Katara pointed at the rug in
front of the firepit. “Both of you sit down and hold hands.”

“What?” Azula asked flatly. Aang turned a terrified look from Azula to Katara; he met Katara’s
gaze and sat down. When Azula did the same, Katara’s sharp gaze made her legs fold to sitting too.
She and Aang stared at each other’s hands for a long moment before Aang opened his palm. Azula
put her hand in his sweaty palm and sighed heavily. She couldn't believe this.

“Now, talk to each other. I’m leaving. No one comes out of this hut for fifteen minutes. Do you
understand?”

“Yes,” Aang said quietly. Azula sighed once more and nodded.

Katara walked out of the building. Azula and Aang let go of each other’s hands as soon as she was
out of the door and shuffled away to give each other a more comfortable meter of personal space.

For a moment they sat in stillness. Azula sighed once again, looking at the palm that had held his.
“I lie. I get angry and I lash out. So remember this truth even if I’m saying something else: Katara
is unique. She's singular. There is no one else in this world like her, and I know how lucky I am
that she's chosen me to share her life with. But I didn't steal her from you. She left you before she
ever entertained the thought of being with me, and there's no one you can blame for that, not even
yourself."

He looked at her warily; Azula could see he was considering her words, as painful as they must be.
She continued, "Katara is also the most forgiving person I know. I was her enemy…all of your
enemies during the war, and yet now I'm her wife."
"You don't have to rub it in," he said. His eyes flicked to her betrothal necklace, and he had to look
away quickly.

Azula rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "Your lack of comprehension skills astounds me. Listen
to what I mean, not the words I'm saying. I'm trying to tell you that if she can forgive me that, she
can forgive you this. If she’s making us sit together and hold hands, surely she means to forgive
you."

He was still wary. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Certainly not because I spare a thought towards you, especially after your pathetic attempts
against me. But she loves you as her friend, and she won't forgive herself for all of this until she
forgives you." She looked him in the eye as her face hardened. "Make no mistake, Aang. If you
ever make an attempt on my life or my firebending again, I will feed you to my dragon."

His eyes widened, and he was momentarily diverted. "How did that happen? Where did it come
from? And Ran and Shaw…?"

Perhaps she owed him that information. “Ran and Shaw’s last surviving offspring. We did a little
battle, and she’s my dragon now. I never saw the other two.”

He slumped forward as if in relief. "So that was what I saw. I was so angry when I took you to the
Sun Warrior's island. The betrothal necklace and then after I made the whole trip, you didn’t want
my help at all. I didn't think you'd actually be in danger, but... I made it all the way back to the
Earth Kingdom, and then I realized I couldn't just leave you. So I went back. I thought you were
dead—the beach was completely destroyed, and the Sun Warriors weren't there. I thought I'd killed
you. I didn't know what to do. I went back to the Earth Kingdom to work for a few days, but I knew
I'd have to tell Katara."

Azula watched his shoulders shrink. She realized for the first time that there was a fine stubble of
dark hair on his head that matched the shadowed facial hair over his lip. He looked stressed. He
said, “I feel so awful for what I did.”

How laughably pathetic. What kind of person made it through life feeling guilty about such little
things? "Get over yourself."

Aang's head jerked up. He looked at her in shock. Azula rolled her eyes. "Shall we go over a list of
your supposed sins? First, you took me to a place I asked you to take me to and you left me when I
asked you to. If you wanted me dead you should have just dropped me over the ocean, and you
certainly shouldn't have returned to the island in a fit of conscience.

"Then when I provoked your anger and nearly killed you, you tried to take my bending. And you
failed at it all. The only thing that's worth feeling guilty over is your appalling performance. Don't
make a career out of it; you would be a terrible antagonist. Take it from someone who was
exceptional at filling that role." She lifted her nose and examined her fingernails haughtily.

Aang's shoulders slumped—not in guilt but in relief—and he really looked at her for the first time.
He was obviously perplexed by her. Azula doubted she could ever like him, but despite his
characteristic passive aggressive manifestations, he'd actually earned a tad bit of her respect for
doing something with his anger instead of just walking away. It helped so much that she no longer
felt that dreadful fear when she looked at him. She’d faced the nightmare and had accepted it.

"You should note this." Azula's words to him were a vow. "Give up on her; find someone else to
love. I plan to spend the rest of my life convincing Katara she made the right choice when she
chose me." She paused. "But in so doing, I could never stand in the way of you being her friend."

His gray eyes dropped. Then he looked up at Azula; his face had shifted in acceptance. He stood as
she got up, and he bowed to her. "Thank you, Azula."

"You're not welcome," she sneered. He gave a soft laugh anyway.

When Azula got up to leave, Aang pointed out, “It probably hasn’t been fifteen minutes yet.”

Azula glanced at the trunk in the corner. She’d been introduced to a few games that were within it.
Might as well battle in a nonviolent way than sit in awkward silence. “Do you play cards?”

Katara was waiting for her outside a little while later. Azula held out her hand and released a
breath of relief when Katara took the invitation. "I suppose a great deal of this is my fault."

"Yes, it is," Katara said in less anger that Azula expected. “But he should have stayed with you on
that island. He knew the dangers. And he should never have started that fight or tried to take your
bending.”

Azula stopped her. "Aside from obviously provoking his anger, my mistake was not confronting
him years ago. It was petty pride and fear on my part. I have no doubt that I only kept confirming
his beliefs about me: that I don't deserve you. I did it purposefully to hurt him. I never considered
that it hurt you too."

"I don't care what you said to him. He should never have attacked you. We're adults; we aren't six
year olds. We don't fight; we talk! And then trying to use energybending against you even after you
stopped fighting..." Katara turned her head and shivered in rage. If she were a firebender, there
would be twin streams of flame exhaled from her nose. "Oh, I'm mad at you, but I'm madder at
him."

Azula wasn't deterred from her main concern. "Are you alright?"

"I can't believe it."

"Yes, the Avatar is a rather miserable adversary."

Her joke wasn't appreciated. "This is serious!"

"Katara." Azula placed her hand on Katara's lips. "Are you alright about what you did?
Bloodbending him?"

Katara took her hand and pulled her in the direction of the bay. They walked in silence to the ice
edge and turned to slowly walk parallel to the water. Katara exhaled a long breath in a puff of
white air, and she was calm when she spoke. "I've learned a lot about myself from you. You've
complicated a lot in my life; you've mixed up my moralities. You can be so good, so wonderful…
and then you can be the embodiment of everything I fear about the Fire Nation.

"You think the ends justify the means, especially with violence. You’re so mean sometimes; you
needle people. That you need to stop, at least with my friends. So stop."

Azula gave a half smile. "I will attempt to consider saying something else."

"Or nothing at all." Katara continued on her earlier thought. "You wouldn't hesitate to kill an
enemy. You wouldn't hesitate to make that death a lesson for others. You don't hesitate to
intimidate, and you enjoy it. You like the power you wield. That's as much a part of you as the
woman who loves her bearded cat and tears up when she holds a baby."

What an odd characterization.

"And to love you, I've had to accept it all. I've had to learn to trust you. You taught me that things
aren't black and white. I don't like bloodbending. I think it's wrong. But I wouldn't change what I
did to Aang, and I don't regret doing it. It was the right thing to do."

"He went back for me," Azula had to admit. "He saw the remnants of the battle with my dragon and
thought I was dead. And I gather things have changed a great deal where he took me." Azula
squeezed her arm. "I don't care if you associate with him, Katara. You don't have to suffer a grudge
for my sake."

"This is for my sake right now. Ten years I've been waiting for him to grow up and give up on me
to be my friend again, and he does this. I trusted him with you, and he betrayed me." Katara's jaw
tightened and tears rose in her eyes. "I hesitated. I hesitated because I was afraid of what will
happen now. It's one thing for you to firebend; it's another for you to have a dragon."

Azula couldn't blame her. She hoped her words weren't empty when she said, "This will change
nothing."

Katara smiled an unhappy smile. "I trust you, Azula, but I don't believe that."

"Thank you," Azula told her quietly. She kissed Katara's bare hands and met Katara's eyes with a
long look. "Thank you for saving me anyway."

The Avatar left the village the same day of his arrival in apparent embarrassment, though he
offered Azula a smile and asked for another card game when they met again. A truce, she
supposed, though she boasted she would win next time. All in all, she'd done quite well with losing
twice in the same day to the man.

Azula expected at least some sort of awkwardness about what had happened, but the next day no
one seemed at all bothered. It wasn't the elephant rat in the room either; they all just moved on.
Somehow it was easy to move on herself.

She knew she would never have to worry about Aang again. Maybe he would find peace with
himself too. Hopefully he and Katara would recover what relationship they could, if only to resolve
the unhappiness and anger that this had caused in Katara. It had done the opposite for Azula; she
felt a sort of happiness about getting that confrontation out of the way and facing down her
nightmare, even if she didn't win that battle.

Lucky wasn't a strong enough word for the fact that Katara wasn't angrier with her. Azula had no
doubt there would be more discussions about being polite. There would probably be more hand-
holding if something like this happened again.

Even after all the insanity of the last week, Azula spent most of her hours the next days working
with the villagers to help them make a living. She was coached on fishing, weaving nets, carving
bone, and sewing leather. She began crafting her own spear and machete-like weapon that would
double as a club. She was careful with every shave and grind; the bones that these weapons were
created from were precious.

The hardest task she had so far was weaving a basket from baleen. The men and women of the
tribe who gathered to chat and sing as they wove their baskets were quick. Their fingers flicked,
and the baleen basket began to form in minutes. Some of them even made miniature baskets. One
woman carved ivory into little figurines that would sit in the basket top. Kanna was the best of the
weavers, and she was a very good teacher. Azula wasn't a particularly good student.

Azula frowned down at the basket in her lap. It was little more than an ivory ring and a few
centimeters of weaving, but it was already uneven.

"I did that weave too thick."

Kanna smiled. "Then just make it thicker on the other side to balance it."

Azula glanced at Kanna's basket. "All of your rows are even."

"I've woven hundreds of these baskets in my life," Kanna replied calmly. "None of them were
perfect. It doesn't have to be perfect; it only has to do its job."

"I don't care if it's perfect," Azula muttered as she reached for another precious piece of whalebone.
"I'd just like it to be even."

Kanna laughed and patted her hand. "Then practice."

Azula managed another row, but she was caught up in her own worry. This task invited an open
mind, and Azula's open mind was full of unhappy thoughts. Hakoda had been right to worry about
what would happen when they left, but Azula didn't want Kanna to think Katara would never come
back, especially after Kanna's recent loss.

When Kanna met her eyes, Azula said, "I won't ask Katara to give this up."

To Azula's surprise, the woman smiled gently. "Of course not. This place is in your spirit now too.
You'll be called back just as she is."

She opened her mouth to explain it was not quite that easy and saw that Kanna knew exactly what
the stakes were. This woman wasn't from the Fire Nation, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what
this dragon meant…and she still trusted Azula with her granddaughter. Kanna's smile softened
even more, and she patted Azula's hand.

The town hall door opened, and Katara stepped inside. She didn't remove her parka jacket, but she
pushed the hood off, displaying the tight braid Azula had watched her form that morning. It was
still mind boggling to watch a woman braid her own hair so efficiently. Katara stopped to kiss her
grandmother and sat down in front of Azula. Her expression was a bit impish, a good change from
the quiet anger she'd carried around about Aang the last few days.

"So, I have some free time."

There was no way this was a proposition, not in present company. "I see," Azula replied neutrally.

Katara's smile widened in apparent anticipation. "I want to spar."

The thought had a certain appeal, but as much as she appreciated Katara's talent, Azula knew she'd
pull her punches. Azula hesitated, and Katara was obviously surprised. She grinned in perplexity.
"I would have thought you'd be all over this."

Ten years ago, she would have. "I trust your strength, but…"

Katara rolled her eyes and grabbed Azula's hand. "It's not an Agni Kai, Azula. Come on."
Azula let herself be dragged to her feet and out onto the ice of the bay. When they took their
stances, she was as hesitant as Katara was anticipatory. Rakka lifted her head from her nap on the
ice in curiosity. A few villagers had gathered to watch them. Azula sensed this would only end in
her personal embarrassment.

Katara started with a little water whip, and Azula broke it with a gentle flick of fire. Katara made a
rude noise at the weakness of the counter. They exchanged a slightly stronger attack, but Azula was
beginning to realize that Katara's enthusiasm was more about seeing her fire than about actually
fighting. Maybe this would become custom for them, but it would take a lot of practice…and there
was no one in the world who could instruct Azula on the right steps.

Azula dodged a gentle water attack, and Katara yanked the ice from beneath her feet. Azula was
too preoccupied by the flare of fire she'd just released to react, and she went down on her back with
a yelp.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Katara slid next to her. "Did you hit your head?"

Lying on her back with a wedge of hard snow digging into her shoulder, Azula began to laugh.
"Darling, I think the war was a unique experience for us if we can't manage a simple sparring
session."

Katara settled down beside her and put her head on Azula's chest. "This seemed a lot more fun in
theory."

"Why don't we dance instead?"

"Dance as in our dance or dance as in your dragon death dance?" Despite the dubious nature of the
question, Katara's enthusiasm had returned. Azula had to kiss her for that. She said, "A mix of both.
We'll mirror attacks and see how close we can get between our elements."

Katara grinned. "That sounds fun."

And it worked out quite well, actually. This was going to be a profitable exercise; Azula learned
something new about her firebending with that one session. She would never be able to use the
graceful, flowing movements Katara utilized to tease water, but it was fun to try. Katara, for her
part, giggled with each attempt to shove her water away like fire, and their session ended with
laughter when she accidentally doused them both.

They would certainly be doing this again.

The day that they left, the villagers threw a summer end party. They'd made their last whale kill the
day before, and everyone was relieved and happy for it. "It was a late season, but this was the
shortest whale season we've had," Katara said. "Nema guided the kayak beautifully."

Nema was a quiet young woman, but she smiled more today than Azula had ever seen. It probably
had a lot to do with Katara's praise.

Instead of having their party in the warm town hall, everyone bundled up and went out onto the bay
ice. Iroh and Ursa emerged from the ship to participate. The celebration started with a simple meal
of whale flesh. Katara fed Azula a bit of every portion of the whale, and she appreciated the
difference between blubber, fluke, flipper, and skin. Ursa even tried a bit of whale skin; the look of
perplexed disgust on her face was hilarious.

"You shouldn't laugh at your mother," Iroh said, but he was laughing too.
After all appetites were satisfied, the adults stretched out a trampoline made from sealskin and
formed a tight pack around it. Children were lifted one at a time onto the trampoline and practically
thrown in the air by the adults.

Azula had twitches of fear as Ana shrieked and bounced happily on the trampoline, but Katara
wasn't concerned at all. No wonder they called it a blanket toss. "You could do it too if you want,"
Katara suggested. "It's really fun."

"I don't think so," Azula replied simply. She managed to prompt a laugh with that response
somehow.

The young adults were thrown much higher than the children, and Ana, safely sitting on Azula's
shoulders, laughed in delight to watch them flip and spin in the air.

When the last of the kids had their turn, most of the adults stepped away from the sealskin blanket
so that only a few held the edges. Katara took Ana from Azula's shoulders, and Ana ran to the edge
of the blanket and bounced on her toes in anticipation. Hakoda threw handfuls of Fire Nation candy
and small trinkets like shells and small bones onto the blanket, and the children of the village raced
around to collect the treats as they bounced off of the shaking trampoline.

It was all laughter and delight from both the children and the adults. This was a celebration of a
season well-ended and a celebration of the new generation that was still so young.

Ana ran back to them, happy with her prizes, and she handed them to Katara to keep with a big
grin. Then, with a shy smile, Ana handed a Fire Nation candy to all of the adults in their little
group. Iroh and Ursa gasped in exaggerated thanks. Kanna smiled and patted Ana's head. Azula
was less overt. "Thank you very much, Ana."

"You're wecome," Ana replied with a big grin.

Azula unwrapped the candy. It was a soft chocolate candy, appropriate for a young child to eat, but
it kept its shape in the cold air. It was shaped like a war balloon. How silly. "Look," she said.

"What?" Ana asked in a happy uptick question.

Azula held out the candy in her fingers. "It's shaped like a war balloon."

Ana looked at the candy in perplexity. She asked, "What's war?"

Azula opened her mouth. She closed it. There was never a time in her life that she hadn't known
what war was. There was probably never a time in Katara's life like that either; she'd certainly
understood war in every capacity the she lost her mother. The part of Azula that was all Fire Nation
warrior was saddened. The part of her that finally understood the impact that war could bring was
grateful that these children didn't understand those losses. She sighed, ate the candy, and admitted,
"Not something you need to know about right now."

Katara rubbed her back, and Azula straightened. Katara sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. She
met Azula's gaze with a long, tender look.

A shout rang out, and their attention went to the bay. Beside her, Katara laughed. Azula reached
down and picked Ana up to put her on her shoulders again. Ana gasped in delight.

There was a pod of whales, the same whales that Katara's people hunted, and they were swimming
lazily along the bay. They flashed their flukes as they swam by, and one whale even breached to
show the white splash on its jaw. Azula had seen them on the ice and seen them dismantled, but
that didn't prepare her for seeing them like this. No wonder it was hard to throw the spear and take
the life of one.

The crowd of people gasped and laughed and shouted praises for the whales that were dancing for
them.

"They always know," Katara said quietly. "Somehow they always know when we've taken our last
whale for the season."

"Will you go swim with them?"

Katara smiled and took Azula's hand. "I'm happy here."

The villagers began to sing an old song. It was in the old tongue, and it was a song of thanks for the
whales and the sea and the season. Katara sang it beside her with a clear, pretty voice, and Ana
hummed along happily. Rakka settled nearby to listen.

The dragon had turned into a fairly docile creature through the week. She'd quickly learned a few
whistle commands from Azula with the help of Hakoda and Bato. Rakka had let the children climb
on her and was happy to share her kills with the tribe. One afternoon many of the villagers
scrubbed her scales, brushed her fur out, and oiled her down. For such an ornery dragon, Rakka
loved human attention and was gentle in the face of it. But Azula had no doubt she would eat any
man alive that threatened her or Azula's family. Azula wouldn't want it any other way.

When the last whale was out of sight, Hakoda started a second song that was a much jollier tune
about a walrus that thought it was a seal. Ana, who had demanded to stand on her own two feet
again, held the hands of both Katara and Azula and bounced against their grips to the beat. When
Hakoda got to the chorus, she sang, "Wawus, wawus, don't you see your tusks, tu—sks?!"

Rakka also participated. She began to croon, and that croon rose to a joyful wail, not unlike a dog's
howl. It was similar enough that all the dogs penned back in the village began to howl too. Hakoda
wasn't upset. He smiled and listened as Rakka sang her own song with the dogs' accompaniment.
At the end of her song, she lifted herself high and opened her wings to full width. Azula felt her
dragon's joy.

Everyone clapped and cheered, and Rakka, the cuss, preened at the attention.

Azula had a new appreciation for how difficult it must be for Katara to leave this place. Kanna was
right: it had gotten into Azula's bones. She was homesick for the Fire Nation, but she knew as they
stepped aboard the steamer that she would become homesick for the South Pole too. It could be a
good life, balancing the two. If only she could figure out how.

The dilemma she'd put off crashed onto her shoulders standing on the Fire Nation steamer that
would take her back to Capital City…to her obligations, her duties. It would be a lie to say she
wasn't anticipating the changes that were sure to come, but she dreaded the repercussions.

Katara cried as she waved goodbye to her family and friends. Earlier she'd hugged everyone, and
her father had held her for a long time. When the steamer pulled away from the ice, Katara stood
beside Azula to wave goodbye a final time. Azula saw the truth in Katara's eyes: she didn't think
she'd ever be coming back.
 Right or wrong is not yes or no
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Kota had packed Azula's armor for her trip. When Azula had discovered it on the way to the South
Pole, she'd laughed at the absurdity. Azula wasn't laughing anymore. She doubted her servant
could have guessed she would return to the Fire Nation with a dragon, but the formal armor would
come in handy when they docked.

Zuko had sent a fire hawk to intercept their ship when they were back in Fire Nation waters. His
letter was short and to the point:

Only you would go to the South Pole and tame a dragon. And then write to me and not tell me a
damn thing about that! If it was a prank, I will kill you. Your letter was open when it came to me,
and the news has spread like wildfire. People have been arriving in droves to Capital City to see
your dragon. They're sleeping in the streets, and Capital Bay has shut down with all incoming
vessels.

Expect a rowdy crowd when you get here. I'll be ready to greet you, but I'm worried we'll have a
riot if we don't handle this right.

Why are you always such a headache, Princess Poopy Head?

Azula sat in her under-armor clothing and watched in the mirror as her family ate dinner. The sailor
that attended her pulled her hair up into a tight topknot and applied Azula's makeup. Ana, who had
been watching everything in the mirror in fascination, reached out and touched the triple-flame
hairpiece on the vanity with wide eyes.

The trip had passed quickly because of that little girl. Ana had wanted to see everything all at once.
They'd explored every corner of the ship and every corner of her dragon. Rakka had been off the
ship more than on it, but when the dragon was in sight everything else played second fiddle.

Azula could easily guess what Ana wanted as she looked at that hairpiece. "You may pick it up,"
she said. It wasn't like Ana could break it. It wasn't like Kota hadn't packed six others.

Ana cradled the hairpiece in her hands. Her eyes were wide. "It's heavy, Azuwa!"

Azula stood up to accept the under-cloak and then the heavy armored tabard. She buckled it at her
side and shifted its weight across her shoulders. "That hairpiece is gold-plated zinc. Never use
another kind if you can help it. It's a very useful trinket, no matter what your grandmother may tell
you."

The predictable response was: "Why?"

"A hairpiece like that once saved my life." Azula pushed her feet into her boots and buckled on her
armguards. "With it and a bit of firebending, I saved myself from falling to my death from an
airship."

Everyone at the table but Katara was surprised by her words. Ursa's surprise turned to anger, but
that anger was softened by her antiemetic medication. Her eyes went owlishly wide. "What? How
in the world...?"
"That had something to do with Zuko, I presume," Iroh said dryly.

Katara shook her head with a faint smile. "Azula and Zuko were fighting, as usual." She addressed
Azula indulgently. "You're indestructible."

"I'm ingenious and tenacious," Azula corrected, pulling on the last dragon-embroidered tunic.
Tailors had a hard enough time thinking of a different design. Now she would be inundated with
dragon-themed gifts from every artisan crafter of the Fire Nation. Azula paused to adjust her
betrothal necklace. After the difficulty of getting it back last time, she was never taking it off again.

"And modest, as always," Katara retorted playfully.

"What's ingenious?" Ana asked.

"Clever and smart. Intelligent even in difficult situations."

"You're ingenious." Ana was just trying out the word, and she laughed and pointed as she did so.

"Yes, and you're a clever little girl," Azula replied, earning a giggle. She lifted her arms for the
heavy belt the sailor fit snugly across her waist. Ana held out the hairpiece carefully, and Azula
took it from her. "Thank you."

"You're wecome." Ana looked up at her with wide eyes. "Pretty."

Armor was pretty and war didn't exist. This was the future the world was paving for its children.
Azula glanced at Kanna; no doubt 'pretty' was the last word in her mind. Azula turned back to Ana
and smiled. In this humidity her unruly brown hair had increased in volume, and it had a cute
effect. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

Ana giggled shyly. Azula bent her head, and the sailor stood on her tiptoes to slide the hairpiece
firmly into her topknot. She turned to look at her reflection and approved. But…

Azula took a long breath and gathered her dignity and presence beneath her shoulders. Her face
settled and her shoulders straightened. Katara made a soft noise and met her eyes through the
mirror. "I still don't understand how you do that. You just look bigger."

"I watched Ozai do the same thing for years." Azula studied herself in the mirror one last time. "He
usually carried his presence deep in his belly, but when he stepped on the throne, he drew it up into
his shoulders." Azula glanced at the little girl standing next to her regarding herself in the mirror
seriously. "Ana."

Ana looked up at her. Azula hoped that Kanna would heed her warning as well.

"There will be a lot of people, a lot more than you've ever seen before. They're going to be very
loud. But they won't hurt you. There won't be any reason to be scared."

Ana nodded, but then she asked to see Azula's hairbrush immediately. Who knew if the information
actually registered. Azula handed over the hairbrush. Ana immediately dropped it, and the polished
back cracked. Ana picked it up and didn't seem to know if she should cry or not. Katara winced at
the table, but she didn't offer an opinion. Azula was hardly going to be angry about a measly
hairbrush.

"All it does is brush hair, and it can do that with a cracked decorative panel. Ana, you may have
that one if you like." Probably not the best solution, but it made Ana's face light up. She ran to
Katara to show her the new toy. Katara smiled gently at Azula over Ana's shoulder. Of course she
turned it into a quick lesson starting with: "We have to be careful with our things."

That crisis averted, Azula sat down and accepted the cup of tea Iroh poured her. It would be a long
wait, but she was ready. Azula didn't participate in their quiet conversation, but she enjoyed
hearing Katara describe all the things she wanted to do with her grandmother and her daughter in
Capital City.

Eventually Azula registered the din of her people waiting for her, and she knew they were in
Capital Bay. She imagined briefly what it would be like: the bay, city, and capital full of Fire
Nation civilians who wanted to witness the first dragon seen in Capital City in nearly a century.

When the ship docked, Fung Tao, Azula's Dai Li captain, strode into the room with his usual
partner. Instead of their customary bows the two men dropped to their knees, pressed their elbows
to the ground, and placed their foreheads on their flattened hands. Their hands were covered in rock
for the first time in many months.

Sometimes these gestures were silly, but Tao had every right for this. Azula left her spot at the
table to stand over the two men. She commanded, "Rise." When they did she continued, "I suppose
you have some fear that I will dismiss you now that I can firebend and have a winged protector."

Tao said nothing, but he lowered his head to block his expression with the curve of his wide hat.

"That fear is foolish. I like useful servants, and you have proven to be exceedingly so. You and
your partner may attempt to keep track of me today, but the rest of your agents will ensure my
family makes it to the palace without incident."

Tao's strong shoulders straightened in quiet relief. "The crowd is enormous, Princess. There could
be danger."

"Not for me. Not today. But I would suggest taking my family through the catacombs."

The catacombs had been expanded and stabilized by her Dai Li through the years. It would be a
comfortable walk to the palace, full of interesting Fire Nation decorations and paraphernalia.
Hopefully they would enjoy it. In the very least Ana would appreciate the preserved dragon
skeleton that stretched along one hallway.

Tao understood the command in her voice, and he bowed to confirm the order. "Yes, Princess."

"Will you be safe?" This question was from Katara.

Azula felt the pull of the crowd; it was so easy to be something more knowing what awaited her.
She looked at her wife and couldn't comprehend her concern. "My people want to see my dragon.
They will be happy to see it."

As Azula spoke, the crowd gave another great cry. Perhaps they'd seen Rakka circle high above the
bay. Katara's face shifted in nervous fear at the sound. "They don't sound happy to me."

"Katara." Iroh placed his hand on her arm. "Azula has been groomed for this for many years. She
and her brother know how to handle a crowd. Trust her." He looked at Azula. "Go. Enjoy your
triumph."

Azula stood at the doorway and lowered her head in a vague nod. "I'll see you all at the palace."

The narrow hallway opened onto the deck with a burst of noise. What was a muted roar within the
ship was a deafening din here. Her Dai Li agents created a path on the deck of the steamer. They
bowed as she walked between them. When Azula stepped onto the raised dock, she had a full view
into the bay city. The yellows and reds were bright but soothing on her eyes used to white and blue.
She was home again.

The city before her was filled with people—people who increased the volume of their shouts at the
sight of her. Her people.

Zuko was waiting at the edge of the rise. He was a strong presence in his Fire Lord robes and crest.
That powerful presence did something unprecedented: he put his hand in his palm and bowed to
her.

Azula's emotions assaulted her: pride, power, and odd humility for the honor her people bestowed
upon her now. She returned her brother's bow and hoped he knew she meant it. Zuko met her eyes
and smiled. The smile wasn't for the crowd; it was for her. He motioned to the city and stepped
back to allow her the limelight.

This place was designed for speech-giving. The practice had fallen out of place since Sozin's rule
—he had preferred the balcony overlooking the bay instead—but these bay steps were designed to
start a triumph for a returning victorious general. Ozai had used them, but he'd claimed his triumph
before a battle that he lost. It was fitting that she and Zuko properly returned to a tradition from
before Sozin's time for this triumph.

Azula lifted her hands, and a hushed silence fell. Every eye in that crowd was on her, and every ear
was cocked to hear her words.

"I have been on a journey," Azula said. Her voice—rough but strong—was audible to everyone
within this first curve of the bay. However, Azula could barely hear herself over her own heartbeat.
"I return from this journey with a sign that our country once again deserves our place in the world!"

The crowd roared because she'd paused. Azula gave them and herself a moment before she lifted
her hands to command silence and continue.

"Sozin started the downfall of our nation. He believed the only show of power was in the
destruction of all others; he was a fool! It is no surprise that such a fool started the hunt for
dragons, the first firebenders, the very symbol of our nation. Sozin claimed greatness was in the
destruction of the dragon too. But I have seen a dragon bow to me, and I have been carried on that
dragon's back high enough to see the world bend, and there is no greater glory than that!"

The crowd boomed, and she gave them a few minutes to cheer before she raised her hands for
silence to fall again. Rakka was circling the bay now, waiting for her call.

"My brother righted one wrong by ending a war that would have destroyed us completely. I have
righted the other! My greatest pride is my role as the Princess of the Fire Nation, and it is my duty
to bring our country glory. I have finally fulfilled that role! I present to you the first dragon, a sign
that we have regained our roots and once again deserve our place in this world!"

Azula whistled and raised her arms. Either Rakka heard her or she felt Azula's call. Her dragon
landed beside Azula, massive and graceful in one. Rakka raised herself high in the air, opened her
wings, and breathed a burst of blue fire into the sky: a sign of joy. She was beautiful. There was no
doubt in Azula's mind that her dragon felt her exultation.

The boom of the crowd shook the ground. Shouts rang out, feet thundered in stomps, and hands
were clapped into a roaring din. And within it pulsed the call of Azula's name. She heard the call of
Zuko's name too; A-ZU-KO her ears picked up several times. It was only right. Zuko had
awakened this dragon so that Azula could tame her. They shared this triumph.

With her chest hollowed from the cries of the crowd—a sound that was almost tangible in its
power—Azula climbed her dragon's body and settled behind her horned head. Rakka roared and
took wing in a burst of undulating energy, and they flew in a loop over the crowd. Faces upturned:
cheering faces and crying faces, all reflecting the joy and pride Azula felt for her people and her
country. It was sweet; she would never forget this moment. Her dragon took her higher, and Azula
watched the ground fall away. She saw her people, her city, her nation.

It was a heady sensation flying so high. It would have been a temptation to try to reach the setting
sun, but Azula wanted what waited on the ground for her more. She gently coaxed her dragon to
turn down, and they began their descent.

Azula groaned in pleasure as she fell on the bed. The mattress was luxuriously soft. After weeks of
sleeping on a wood floor and a thin mattress in the steamship, she was home again. Katara sighed
too as she settled on the bed. A bearded cat joined them with a happy trill and began to knead the
soft coverlet with happy blinks.

"Hi, Tonky." Katara smooched at the cat, who was happy to start kneading her. Katara leaned
down to kiss Tonk's head and rub her back. Tonk's purrs deepened, and she began to trill as she
purred. Katara spoiled that cat rotten.

"We can convert one of the other rooms for Kanna if she would prefer to sleep alone."

Ana and Kanna had retired into Azula's hastily rearranged study only a few minutes before. Ana
was perplexed that the bed was raised from the floor, but she liked its softness. She'd called it a
cloud.

"I think they need each other in this new place." Katara dropped the now unhappy bearded cat on
the floor. She cupped the back of Azula's neck and pulled her close for a deep kiss. "And I need
you."

They would both have to be quiet with a toddler and a grandmother across the sitting room. The
thought didn't deter Azula's ardor. Katara was especially demanding that night, but it was an
uncharacteristic need: she wanted Azula to take control.

Still high from her victory, Azula was more than willing. She lay on her back and watched Katara
rock against her fingers, but at Katara's whispered demand she was happy to roll them and take
over. It was rougher than either one of them usually preferred, but Katara kissed her hard and urged
Azula's thrusts with gasps and murmurs. She was beautiful in her need, as beautiful now as when
she took her own pleasure, and Azula wanted to take her there. She wanted to give Katara
everything, hold her close forever, and she wanted to make Katara as happy as Katara made her.

"I love you," Azula gasped. Katara's hands tightened on her shoulders, and she clenched around
Azula's fingers.

They lay together in relaxed silence. Katara reached out to run her fingers across Azula's lips with a
long, sultry look. Azula bent her head to kiss Katara's breasts, eliciting a murmur of pleasure.
Katara didn't seem inclined for another round, and Azula was tired too. She settled her head against
Katara's belly. Katara fingered the scar on her ear and reached down to touch Azula's necklace.

Azula was still mindful that a child or grandmother might need them in the night. She got up to
retrieve their robes before she was too sleepy to bother.
Lying in bed, Katara said, "You were amazing."

Azula appreciated the compliment, but it was uncharacteristic. They'd never patted each other on
the back after successful sex. She belted her robe and spoke dryly. "I've been perfecting my
technique for ten years so I should hope so."

Katara laughed. When Azula got back into bed, she shoved her shoulder gently. "I didn't mean that.
I meant with the crowd. What you said. You managed to excite them even while talking about
peace."

When had she spoken about peace? That was a misconception that Azula wasn't inclined to correct.
She also didn't appreciate that her Dai Li agents had let her family loiter with an excited mob
nearby. "You should have been well away by then."

"I listened from the ship. We left after you started walking through the crowd."

In that case, Azula could see why her guards had chosen that option. The crowd's attention had
been riveted on her and her dragon. Azula was a little surprised that Rakka hadn't eaten someone in
chaos, but as excited as the crowd had been, they'd been reverent too. Zuko had walked on one side
of Rakka's head and Azula on the other, and the crowd had melted from around them, content to
cheer and watch as they made the long walk from the docks to the Royal Palace.

Even now Azula could hear the faint din of the happy crowd that still remained outside of the
palace walls hoping to catch sight of the dragon curled up on Azula's balcony. Fireworks had been
going off since sunset and would likely continue all night. Ana's original fear had melted into
pleasure at the sight of the lights in the sky. Hopefully she wouldn't be afraid in the night.

There hadn't been time to speak with Zuko when they finally walked into the palace gates, but
they'd confirmed an appointment for a private breakfast tomorrow morning. Zuko's formal
invitation had come only a few minutes after Azula walked into her apartment. She'd been too tired
after that to do much but take a bath and drop into bed.

Katara's smile faded into a somber look Azula didn't like. "You really were born to do this."

"I was trained to do this," Azula corrected. "Lu Ten was to inherit the throne after Iroh."

"You were born to do this," Katara said more firmly. "And you've found your glory."

Glory was nothing if Katara wasn't happy, and right now she didn't look happy. Azula didn't know
what she could say. "Katara…"

"I love you, and I'm proud of you." Katara kissed her gently and rolled away to settle on a pillow.

Azula wanted to soothe Katara's doubts, but she wasn't sure she could. Zuko would have to pose
the question, and she wasn't ready to answer him. A part of Azula hoped he wouldn't ask her; she
anticipated he would. He must know how much she wanted this, and she knew he probably didn't
anymore. If there was to be a switch, it would have to happen in the wake of this triumph.

There had to be some way for happiness, but she wasn't sure she trusted herself to find it past her
own selfish desires.

To be Fire Lord...

She reached out to pull Katara against the curve of her body and imagined what it would be like to
accept the Fire Lord crest. It wasn't the title that she hungered for but the responsibilities. She
wanted to protect her nation, to lead her people into a strong future, and to fulfill her
responsibilities as part of the royal family. It was a good wish, but Azula's imagination shifted to
the memory of Katara's tears as she looked up at the fireworks during Zuko's wedding party. She
wanted so much…

Azula hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until Katara's short scream of alarm woke her. Azula
surfaced from sleep with long, bristly fur in her mouth. She opened her eyes and gasped as she
looked into her dragon's happy golden gaze.

"No. Out! You're too big to sleep here!" Azula pushed at Rakka's head, and her dragon unwound
from their bed with an unhappy groan. She'd fit a remarkable amount of her body into their
bedroom. Rakka's ears drooped as she settled back on the balcony, and she huffed unhappily.

Azula's guards were alarmed and amused in turn. Azula wasn't in the least bit amused. "Be useful.
Make up a bed for her. And you!" She pointed at her dragon. "Stay."

Katara was looking under the bed when Azula stepped back into their bedroom. She cajoled,
"Tonky, it's alright."

Tonk's tail was three times its usual size when she raced from under the bed into the sitting room.
Katara sat down on the floor and laughed helplessly. She looked over her shoulder at Azula in
good humor. "I'm tempted to join her. If you let that dragon sleep on our bed, you won't be sleeping
with me anymore."

"Notice the dragon is on the balcony and I am in the bedroom."

"I don't know if I can fall back asleep after that," Katara said as they slipped back under the sheets.
Despite her words, she did. Azula didn't. She brushed her fingertips over Katara's skin and
wondered.

"You know," Zuko said over their private breakfast. Despite the formal invitation, all they'd been
doing was jawing. "Only you would find and tame a dragon during a vacation. All I ever do when I
go on vacation is lie out on the beach, get sunburned, and drink watermelon juice."

"I also tackled a polarbear dog, helped flense a whale, drove a dog sled, hunted seal, ice fished, and
tanned leather. Oh, and I adopted a child and got married."

Zuko goggled at her. "How are you not dead on your feet?"

"A dragon," Azula said.

Zuko mirrored her grin. "That was a stupid question. Did your dragon really try to sleep on your
bed last night?"

No doubt the story had circulated around the palace in less than an hour, and probably all of the
servants were inventing excuses to be by Azula's apartment to catch sight of Rakka.

"I wouldn't mind so much, but I'd rather not lose my bed privileges." Azula took a sip of tea and
sobered. They hadn't spoken of her trip to the Sun Warrior ruins, but surely he guessed that was
where she'd been. "Why didn't you tell me about that place?"

Zuko slumped in his chair and cradled his teacup in his hands. It was clear he took her meaning.
Zuko looked her in the eye when he answered her. "Mom told me you couldn't firebend after the
wedding, before your Agni Kai. I honestly had no idea before that. I was going to tell you when
things settled down. And then Ozai…" He glanced away with a frown. When he looked back at
her, there was apology in his gaze. "You were weak for a long time."

"I got stronger."

"Yeah." Zuko set his teacup down and folded his arms, taking a stronger stance in his chair. "But
you're my little sister."

"I fail to see how that impacts anything." As she said it, she knew how it did. He'd wanted to
protect her. It occurred to her that Zuko could have been threatened by her firebending or even her
dragon—how strange that she hadn't even considered it before now—but he didn't appear to be. It
pleased her more than she could have guessed.

"When I went with Aang, it wasn't that I couldn't firebend. My fire was just pathetically weak. I
thought even if we went together it wouldn't do any good if you couldn't firebend at all. You
seemed happy with the way things were. And honestly, I could see you being stupid enough to
think it's a good idea to fight the old masters instead of dancing for them. I really don't want to be
eaten by a dragon."

Her lips twitched into a smirk that matched Zuko's. He was right. "Did you see Ran and Shaw?"

Zuko nodded. "Did you?"

"No. My dragon—their little one—chased them away, apparently. Chased everyone away. The
entire island was deserted except for her...though I ended up having the pleasure of meeting the
residents." Azula met her brother's eyes. "Thank you."

His brow crinkled in question.

"Without your touch, my little dragon wouldn't have woken up in her egg, and we wouldn't be here
right now."

Zuko's eyebrow shot up. "It was an egg!"

"You will have her first offspring," Azula promised.

For one moment his expression was transparent in absolute shock; he hadn't expected the offer. His
resulting smile was uncharacteristically emotional, but he shook his head. "Nope. I appreciate the
thought, but I don't think having a dragon with my boy is a great idea. I wouldn't mind taking a ride
on yours though."

"Done." He would change his mind. She would honor her offer.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Azula's mind flickered through various topics she was
uncharacteristically hesitant to broach, especially with Zuko watching her as he was. How odd that
she wasn't sure what was going on politically. She settled on a vague question. "How have things
been?"

Zuko gave her an odd look before his mouth pinched into a scowl. "I hate this damn job. The
council's going to vote on reducing my power today. I don't understand why they've pushed it
through this far. I'm just going to veto it. It's a waste of time, a waste of money, and it pisses me off
that I can't just fire them all."

She could guess what this was about: the council wanted to say the Fire Lord was an evil dictator
that would veto a bill that would reduce his power. The bill was probably spearheaded by nobles
who claimed to want a republic. Sometimes you had to play into their hands, just not in the way
they expected. Azula was the perfect person for that role.

The timing though… Perhaps the council also expected Zuko's next move. Maybe they thought
Azula already controlled this nation. Since her return to the capital years ago, there had been silly
whispers about her bending her brother's will. While Zuko's manner wasn't as aggressive as
Azula's, he had just as strong views about his nation and his rule. Their good politician, bad
politician strategy probably hadn't helped things, but it was so much fun.

"How many of them are behind this?"

"A slim majority."

That slim majority could easily become minority. "That's fixable."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Actually, I'll lead the council meeting this morning. Don't tell them though." It wasn't the first
time she'd made the request, but this time would certainly be unique. Zuko's shoulders shifted in
anticipation; he was already smirking. "Can I watch?"

She smirked back at him. "Why not? Be ready half an hour early, and wait for me before you go
in. Full formal wear."

When Azula returned to her apartment, Katara looked up from her efforts to pull Ana's hair into a
ponytail. Kanna sat on the settee with a cushion behind her back and a cup of iced water in her
hand. To see them all in Fire Nation silk flushed Azula with quiet possessiveness.

"My armor," Azula called. The temporary Kota, a young woman named Miza, materialized and
bowed. So far she didn't have the talent of reading Azula's mind like Kota did. She proved that by
asking, "Formal wear, Princess?"

"Yes, with all the little decorative bits. I'll need it for the council meeting."

"You're wearing armor for a council meeting?" Katara asked her dubiously.

"I'm not going to hurt them, of course," Azula said airily. "I've just managed to train them all. I'm
sure they had a grand vacation in my absence and walked all over Zuzu. They just need a little
reminder that I don't allow that kind of behavior." Azula caught Kanna's eye. "Have you tried the
bath yet, Kanna?"

Kanna smiled quietly. "Quite a luxury for these old bones."

"You promised you wouldn't work today," Katara objected.

"I said I would be free, and I will be."

"Council meetings take hours."

"This one will take less than an hour."

Katara remained dubious.

Half an hour later, Azula strode through the palace to the west wing's council room. Zuko rarely
used the throne room anymore; it was too hot and dark for political sessions. The council room was
on the first floor with open windows for good circulation. Its wide entrance hallway opened into a
pretty courtyard that was wasted on the council.

Rakka settled on the ground in the courtyard and cracked a toothy yawn. Two gawking servants
opened the double doors of the hallway. Azula stalked into it with her dragon on her heels. Zuko
was waiting there. His eyes widened at the sight of the dragon that followed behind her. With
Rakka's wings folded, her short legs and the strong muscles of her belly propelled her. She
probably looked quite snake-like.

Azula didn't look at her brother as she spoke. "Walk through the center of the room and sit down at
your place. Let me talk."

She settled herself and smoothed her expression. Zuko mirrored her.

They shared a moment of stillness as they faced the doors. Then Azula slammed those doors back
with a bang. Since they'd arrived early, the council members were all idly chatting; their official
robes were either undone or not on at all. They all jumped at the bang of the doors slamming on
their hinges and turned to look, but their eyes darted away at the sight of every flame in the room
flaring blue.

What a delicious feeling.

Zuko strode through the center of the room, but Azula stalked along the edges where much of the
council loitered. They took one look at Azula and her slithering dragon and scrambled away in
terror. They scattered scrolls and papers as they crawled over their high tables in retreat. Azula
continued around the perimeter of the room and herded the council back and forth before she
finally took her seat by Zuko. Rakka coiled behind them on the debate platform.

Contrary to everything that had occurred in this room so far, Azula's tone was genial. She smiled as
she spoke. "Good morning, councilmen and councilwomen. It's such a joy to be back that I couldn't
wait to get back to work. What's on the docket today?"

The man in charge of organizing their docket cleared his throat as he stood up. He was still new at
his post; his predecessor had been dismissed by Zuko for taking bribes. "We're discussing…" His
eyes widened at the sight of what was on his paper. Azula sensed this one would be dismissed soon
for incompetence.

Dead silence encased the room.

"Yes?"

"That is, um, Princess…"

"Have you lost the ability to speak?" she asked sharply.

The man chewed his mustache—disgusting habit—and tremulously said, "We will be voting on
revoking the veto power of the Fire Lord."

Azula feigned a light laugh. "Really? That must be a joke!" She turned to her brother. "Fire Lord,
has anyone explained why they want such a foolish thing?"

Zuko's expression was placid, but his voice was cutting. "Someone has yet to explain it to me."

"Does anyone care to explain this to us now?" she asked quietly.

Predictably, there were no volunteers.

Azula no longer masked the ire that sharpened her tone. "Since over half of you are moronic
enough to need this explanation, I will deign to give it." She swept her eyes across the room and
pinned several men beneath her gaze. "The Fire Lord rules this nation. He is your sovereign
monarch. You, Council, exist to assist the Fire Lord; you help Fire Lord Zuko consider every part
of this widely varied nation with his decisions. You do not rule this nation in any way.

"You have wasted taxpayer money, my brother's time, and already have stepped upon my last
patience. This matter will rest now. My brother is bound by a certain…" She paused to study her
nails and enjoyed the silence in the room. "…etiquette to not respond to this violently."

Azula lifted her gaze again, and Rakka shifted behind her. "I am not bound by this etiquette, and I
will respond if I feel this council threatens the Fire Lord's power in any way." Azula adopted a glib
tone. "And right now this bill is as much of a blatant coup attempt as the men who wielded daggers
at my brother's wedding. Remember how they ended up…and think very, very, very hard on your
vote today."

Azula turned her eyes across the room. She smelled their fear. Her dragon did too; Rakka produced
a threatening rumble. Azula reached out to finger her dragon's horn. Rakka's golden eyes were
bright and they flickered around curiously. She was a beautiful, dangerous creature in this setting.

No doubt all of the council members behind this bill thought of all the promises and posturing they
had made to each other. Their pride would be warring with their sense of self-preservation. She
knew they feared her; they feared her temper and her power in the wake of her triumph. They
feared her dragon most of all.

She also noted the quiet smiles from some of Zuko's allies. A few of them met Azula's eyes and
lowered their heads in subtle bows.

"Call the vote." Azula's voice was sharp enough to cause a few flinches.

They called the vote. While Azula would have relished a unanimous decline, she didn't expect that
miracle. Eleven men and women yay'ed. It was a measly minority, and the bill was tossed out
immediately. The only surprise was one of Zuko's allies, Tuon, had voted for the measure. Zuko's
knuckles tightened at the sound of that strong 'yes', but he didn't react.

Azula and Zuko left immediately after the vote. Rakka swept out after them in a wide slither of
shocking movement that raised a few shouts of fear. Rakka took wing immediately, probably to
continue the nap that Azula had interrupted for the council meeting.

Because they'd done absolutely no work over breakfast, Azula should have suggested she and Zuko
hold their own meeting. But she'd promised Katara that she would be free today. Azula ignored the
part of her that itched to get things done and made good on her promise.

Katara looked up in surprise when Azula walked into the sitting room less than an hour after she'd
left. Azula turned her nose up and said, "Ye of little faith."

After changing into a casual robe and trousers, Azula sat down on the floor in the sitting room and
spied her bearded cat under the settee. Azula smooched and ignored Katara's affectionate grin at
the noise. Tonk hesitantly crept out from her hiding place. Ana gasped in delight.

"Do you want to pet her?"

Ana scrambled forward. Tonk's ears folded back, but she remained where she was.

"Be gentle," Azula warned. The last thing this poor cat needed was another shock. A loud toddler
with a penchant for tail-pulling might be as much of a shock as a dragon for her. This morning had
been all poofy tail and dilated pupils at the slightest noise.

Ana gasped when she put her fingers in Tonk's fur. She looked at Azula with wide eyes. "It's soft!"

"Yes, she is soft. Tonk is fed five drops of essential oils everyday to keep her skin healthy. It
wouldn't do for the royal bearded cat to have a scraggly beard."

Predictably, Ana had stopped listening. She gasped and snatched her hand back in alarm. "It's
growling!"

"Tonkara is purring. It means she's happy. Her vocal cords are vibrating to produce a purr at
around fifty hertz. Some zoologists believe it stimulates growth and healing."

"Dork," Katara muttered quietly.

"Now, now, Katara. I think that's very interesting," Kanna rebuked gently.

Before Azula could comment on the pleasure of finally meeting another scholar, her majordomo
stepped into the room and bowed. "The Fire Lady and the Royal Prince and Princess are calling."

When Mai walked into the room, her eyes went to the balcony where Rakka was already asleep.
Her head and tail hung off of the balcony and her legs stuck straight up in the air.

"Impressive," Mai said sarcastically.

"Why don't you come along at mealtime to see her eat an ostrich horse whole?"

Mai's mouth pulled with nausea. Ah, the joys of morning sickness.

Tozin and Rina were far too concerned with Ana to care about their aunts or the dragon or even the
bearded cat that immediately escaped under the settee again. There was a moment of frozen delight
for all the children as they regarded each other. Azula could imagine their thoughts: new playmate!
"Hi," Tozin said. Rina smiled shyly. Ana's face broke into a wide grin. She abandoned Azula for
her new friends.

No doubt they were bonded for life. They were going to destroy the palace in no time.

Tozin walked towards Ana. "Can I play with you?"

Ana nodded shyly and ran over to the toy chest that Azula kept stocked for her niece and nephew.
She pulled out Azula's cracked brush instead of a toy. Rina giggled and dropped to the floor with a
thump next to Ana. Tozin shuffled through the chest. He pulled out his favorite toy and presented it
to Ana. "This is the best one!"

Their play would probably degenerate into some sort of tugging match, but for now, they were
happy to share. The children managed their own introductions. Azula kept her seat on the floor and
suffered Katara's irritation that she hadn't been told before now that Mai was pregnant again.

"Thanks for dealing with Ursa for a month. I had to have breakfast with her this morning, and she
reminded me why I've been so happy recently." Mai gave a long-suffering sigh.

Azula was about to comment when Ana ran to her and kissed her cheek. Azula had learned this
game. She seized Ana and elicited a happy shriek when Azula dragged the little girl into her lap to
kiss the ticklish spot on the back of her neck.
"Forgive me, Princess," her majordomo murmured.

Azula looked up to see a massive man standing in the room. Councilman Tuon was flanked by
Azula's servants, and his eyes were wide. Azula's own eyes must have widened in anger. Her
temper flared, but she gently released Ana. Azula turned to her majordomo. "Why did you allow
him in here?"

"I could not send him away, Princess."

Tuon's eyes swept around the room. No doubt everyone was watching him, including the children
who offered waves. His wide jaw tightened at the sight of Azula's guards stepping into his line of
sight, but his voice was calm as he said, "I declare Agni Kai against you, Princess Azula."

Mai broke the shocked silence with scornful laughter. "Seriously? Did you see what happened last
time?"

"I'm better than Lam," he said with some offense.

Azula's anger was heady, but her voice didn't betray it. "But you didn't declare Agni Kai against
Lam, did you?"

He was a dark-haired man, built like an earthbender, and over a head taller than Azula. Tuon had
served for ten years during the war, and that service had riddled him with scars. He was an
intimidating looking man, but when Azula stood up Tuon took a step backward.

"Walk with me." Azula strode out of her apartment barefoot without turning to see if he followed
her. None of the children had any business hearing this talk. Azula's voice was sharp but steady as
they walked down the wide hallway. "Tell me why you plan to waste your life, Tuon. Is it related
to your surprise vote this morning?"

Again his great jaw bunched beneath the black wolf-chops on his cheeks. "I support Fire Lord
Zuko."

She was losing more patience by the second. "Contrary to your vote to revoke his veto power."

"Not his." Tuon's dark eyes turned to hers in a rude stare. "I know what you're planning, and I'll do
everything I can to stop you."

"Planning," Azula said quietly. A sconce on the wall beside her flared blue before she managed to
calm herself.

"I know what you want. You'll make the Fire Lord a dictatorship again. You're a bully."

Those words were amusing enough to provoke laughter. A bully? She was almost insulted by that
silly term. "Is this because I convinced the council that the Fire Nation isn't a republic? It isn't, you
nincompoop."

"Bringing your dragon into the council room—"

"Tuon, let me tell you a little story."

"You—"

Azula's patience was gone. She seized Tuon's ear and yanked his head down. His eyes went wide in
shock at her audacity, but he remained where she'd dragged him when she twisted his ear harder.
To his credit, he didn't yelp. Azula settled her face close to his and met his dark eyes as she spoke
softly.

"Your Royal Princess commands you listen, and you will listen to me or by Agni I will kill you
where you stand. Given your outstanding rudeness in barging into my apartment to declare
violence against me in front of my daughter, I have every right to bring formal punishment against
you, Agni Kai or no."

Tuon's mouth remained closed, and he dropped his still-wide eyes in submission. Azula released
him, and he offered no further protests.

"Did you see the last Agni Kai fought in the capital, Tuon?"

He straightened and met her eyes. "You know I did."

"How long did it last?"

He was silent.

"Answer me," she snapped.

Tuon's jaw flexed again before he said, "A few seconds."

"Seconds. An Agni Kai between a firebender and a princess who could not firebend ended in
seconds. Lam knew it, and he still lost in record time." Tuon's eyes widened at that admission.
"How long do you think you'd last against the same princess who now can firebend? Because I'm
certain you wouldn't last longer than Lam. And your death would be a waste, a waste on my hands,
unlike Lam, who was more a waste alive than dead."

His eyes flickered to hers in surprise once more. Azula motioned for him to begin walking again.
Tuon took a hesitant step down the hallway and she fell into step beside him. Azula wondered if
she could cow this scarred veteran. Azula's voice was calm when she spoke again.

"Before my third birthday, I awoke with my coverlet on fire. That was my first flame, and it was
the first time I was burned. My father, Ozai, put me in his lap, and we sat there until sunset the next
day. I wasn't allowed to get up, to have my diaper changed, to drink or eat. He made me sit and
breathe against his diaphragm until I could produce flames with my breath. He made me
consciously firebend before I was trained to hold my bladder and bowels. That is my first
memory."

Tuon's brow furrowed in obvious antipathy to that story. His step faltered.

"When I was ten years old, I changed the intensity of my fire." Azula lifted her hand and showed
him the hot orange flames of her childhood. She sharpened her chi until the fire in her hand roared
and flashed blue. "Ozai beat me hard that day. He told me it was to keep me humble. I knew he
would beat me again the next day, but I refused to produce my flame at a lesser intensity. Every
day I survived him. I got a little better, a little stronger, gained a little more endurance. I didn't give
up, but Ozai eventually did. Do you know why he really beat me?"

Tuon looked her in the eye. "He was afraid of you."

He was close, but he wasn't right. "No. Ozai was afraid of my power."

Tuon's long breath was that of understanding.

Their walk took them down an open hallway in an older area of the palace. Tuon probably had
never been down this passage. The columns were carved into muscled gargoyles that climbed their
height. This time of day, the shadows were long, and those decorations were malevolent. They had
scared her as a child.

"I created a firebending move with my blue fire: the fire wheel. Unlike earth and water, fire rarely
cuts anything. My technique breaks that limitation. The first time I used my fire wheel, I split a
komodo rhino in half. It squealed until I ended its misery. Ozai told me I was weak for showing
mercy; he was right. Whoever challenges me to Agni Kai next…I will let them squeal."

Azula had Tuon's undivided attention and none of his earlier defensiveness. There was no fear in
his face though. Maybe that was why Azula now spoke to him as an equal.

"My wife describes me as a paradox. I love her. I love my family, including my brother. My father
is Iroh, a gentle man by nature. But Ozai raised me. Ozai was not a gentle man; he was never
gentle with me. He taught me many useful lessons, like how to rule absolutely. There's a certain
carriage, a certain diction, a certain way to cow and humble. But sometimes absolute cruelty is
required. I suppose that is what you call bullying. I call it necessity.

"The Fire Lord rules this country. This nation is not a republic and it is not a democracy, but it is
not a dictatorship. Most nobles claim to want a republic unless one has the slightest aspiration to
become Fire Lord himself. There is no doubt in my mind that such a man or woman would turn
that title into a dictatorship.

"My brother and I love this country. We will protect it and our people. I will do so with violence if
I have to. That is what my next Agni Kai will be about: protecting this nation."

Azula faced Tuon. He looked at her like he'd never seen her before.

"During my next Agni Kai, I will cut my opponent here." She tapped his lower abdomen, and he
flinched. "His diaphragm will still work so he can draw deep breaths and scream the scream of a
dying man. He will look down at his body in two parts, viscera and blood spilling out onto the tile
of the arena, and he'll scream. He'll scream as my dragon eats his lower half right before his eyes.
And all the nobles watching that man will think, 'I'm glad that's not me.' They will look at me, and
they'll know that they cannot take this nation from my family."

Azula met Tuon's eyes and continued, "You're going to tell me that you would rather be a spectator
at that Agni Kai. You are one of the rare few men in this nation that actually cares about the
people over your money-purse. You're worth far more alive than as a lesson to your peers."

He was still watching her with intense curiosity. His question wasn't defensive, but he didn't drop
his rude stare. "Do you plan to usurp Fire Lord Zuko?"

The question didn't surprise her, but the fact that she hadn't considered doing so did. Azula's fire
could easily kill Zuko; she could not. That was a part of her that had died with Ozai. "If that was
your motivation for your silly Agni Kai declaration, you're a fool. You can't support or protect my
brother as a corpse. That's why I'm ignoring your challenge. Declare Agni Kai again, and I will
meet you in combat without hesitation and I will make you suffer for it."

Tuon didn't walk away, and he didn't cower. The big man went to his knees. He placed his palms
on the ground and pressed his proud forehead to them. "Forgive me, Princess. I am your man. If
you ever have need of me, I am here to serve you as I serve your brother."

There was no fear in this man's voice. Azula turned that truth over in her mind. She hadn't
anticipated this reaction. "Noted, Tuon. You are dismissed."

Three curious adults watched Azula walk into the sitting room of her apartment. Azula was obliged
to say, "Tuon has rescinded his challenge."

"Is Tuon still alive?" Mai's question was purely rhetorical. Katara studied Azula for a moment, but
what she saw seemed to satisfy her.

"Azuwa, pway!" Ana demanded. Azula sat back down on the floor. How strange to shift from
politics to family so easily. This was what her life would be like from now on.

Children's games defied logic; Tozin and Ana both had extraordinary imaginations that they
managed to mesh despite their different backgrounds. Rina was still too little to fully participate,
but she babbled happily as she played alongside them. Azula served as a landmass that the children
could run their toys into, but that role satisfied Ana.

Katara and Kanna left to meet with the wedding planner. Azula begged off for the morning to
complete some paperwork. She had a list of things she needed to do; the first was to strongly
suggest the Fire Sages start a catalogue of the coming generations of dragons. They would have
their hands full trying to keep the lines from inbreeding, but Azula had no doubt the Sages would
relish this opportunity.

More importantly, she needed to file the paperwork for Ana's adoption and submit an application
for the upcoming marriage to the Fire Sages. A servant could fill out the forms as easily as she, but
she wanted her own handwriting on those pages.

So Azula sat in her sitting room, listened to the children play, traded veiled insults with Mai, and
claimed Katara and Ana as her own.

A few hours later, Azula changed into more formal clothing and walked down to the airy sitting
room in the East Wing to take lunch with Katara and her grandmother. Ana was eating lunch
happily with her cousins under the supervision of Ursa and Iroh and would have her first lesson
with her cousins that afternoon. Hopefully that would go well.

Katara stared at her plate and shook her head. "I had no idea there were so many shades of red. Or
so many different types of sauce. She kept asking me about noble families. Who cares where
everyone sits? No wonder wedding planning takes forever." Katara sheepishly asked, "Are you
sure we can't just ask your mother to do it all?"

Azula quickly finished her first helping of rice and fish with spicy whelk sauce and flicked her
hand for a second serving. "You're not from the Fire Nation so my mother's very Fire Nation tastes
aren't appropriate. Do you like the sauce, Kanna?"

"It's fruit." Kanna carefully doled out more on her redfish. "I didn't know fruit would be good on
fish."

Azula had never liked the combination, but she wasn't surprised to see Kanna enjoy the sauce that
Katara ate like candy. Katara had abandoned her main course to wipe up her fruit sauce with bread.
Katara said, "I love the food here. Just wait until dessert."

The servants must have relayed the comment to the chef because the kitchen sent out an elaborate
chocolate concoction with an array of sweet fruit sauces. The entire dish was almost too pretty to
eat. It also appeared to defy the laws of gravity. The servant bowed and said, "The chef's
compliments, Lady Katara."
Kanna and Katara shared it after a few compliments that probably made the chef swell up like a
pastry in the oven. Azula was content with a teacake and kanzai, rice-in-tea, to end her meal. "We
should go to the hummingbird gardens this evening. Mai finally repopulated it after Tonk got in a
few months ago."

"The poor hummingbirds," Katara said with a sigh.

"What's the point of being a bird if said bird can't escape a cat that's quite grounded?"

Katara's expression shifted, a sure sign this would become a playful argument, but Kanna asked,
"What are hummingbirds?"

Katara was sidetracked. "Oh, you'll love them, Gran Gran."

The meal put Katara in a better mood, but she frowned when the planner flounced back into the
room after their respite. The woman immediately began to pepper Katara with questions about
noble family seating arrangements. Honestly, how did this woman call herself any kind of planner
when she couldn't make a single decision without Katara's input?

"How many tables—"

"No tables," Azula said. The planner goggled at her, but Azula didn't give the woman any time to
remark. She didn't look up from her tea and spoke now in a quick run of sentences.

"Chairs for those who wish, during the ceremony as well. I see no reason for all the nobles to
suffer their knees and heels during the blathering of the Fire Sage. And no place cards. I refuse to
add to whatever juvenile noble drama that may exist because of seating arrangements.

"I want a Fire Sage that can speak in more than one tired tone. My brother's wedding ceremony
was pointlessly monotone. I don't want to see any nobles nodding off." The planner had more
control over nobles' sleeping habits than the head Sage, who was elected to his post by his peers.
The woman's eyes went huge at that demand, but she wrote everything down furiously. Azula was
delighted by the thought of this energetic woman arranging a meeting with the Fire Sage to teach
him diction.

"Cuisine should sample every nation. I am not a chef; it is your job to know what is good; I don't
want to hear another useless question about sauces or ingredients. You will sample each proposed
dish personally to be sure it passes muster. If I don't like something served, you will eat it all."

The planner's eyes went even wider. Azula sipped her tea and ignored the tremble that shook
Katara's shoulders.

"Whatever isn't eaten at the ceremony or by you will be distributed to the public in an orderly
fashion. Supplement rice and soymeat if that doesn't suffice to feed everyone in the capital. Contact
Riko of Fireplume Vineyards and tell him to concentrate on producing his fruit fizzy drink for the
wedding. We will buy out his entire stock. Are you listening?"

The wedding planner looked up from the paper she'd been scratching on. Her eyes widened. "Of
course, Fire Lord."

Azula curled her lip, and the woman baulked. "Do I look like my scarred male brother, you idiot?"

"O-of course not, Princess. Please forgive me; it was a slip of the tongue."

"Slip again, and I'll make sure you lose it."

The woman's jaw dropped; her shoulders trembled.

"Azula!" Katara gasped. She didn't entirely hide her amusement. Kanna had a hand over her
mouth; by her wrinkled eyes it was to cover laughter not shock. After all, this woman had tortured
both of them all morning with pointless questions.

Azula rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "Fine. Because my wife insists: keep your tongue. There
will be a tiled canal that passes around the temple grounds and out onto the street and back. Pass
out paper candles that well-wishing pilgrims can light and put in the river from outside. The canal
will be perfectly round, exactly twenty centimeters deep and two meters wide. It will flow
clockwise at exactly two kilometers per hour. The water will be imported from the South Pole."

The planner's mouth was open again. "Two kilometers per hour," she repeated weakly.

"I liked the cards at the last wedding. Add a little trinket to them, perhaps a ribbon or a braid, red
on blue or some such motif. I don't want decorative dragons on anything. My dragon will be
enough decoration. And as to what we wear…"

The planner scrambled to find more paper to scribble her notes down on.

Azula rolled her wrist and sighed airily. "My wife will be in charge of that. Instead of bombarding
her with names of colors, choose a few samples. Include cool colors as well. A mix of Fire Nation
and Water Tribe is only appropriate. My wife is welcome to change any of the plans I have already
outlined. I hope there won't be any more problems," she warned.

The planner swallowed thickly. "If I may, Princess, Lady Katara, I will use the rest of the day to
prepare these plans and come back tomorrow with clothing samples."

"Dismissed."

The woman's shoulders slumped in relief. Azula paused. "All of this should be ready in four
months. Be sure to choose a sunny day."

"O-of course, Princess." She dropped her papers and scrambled to pick them up. Since the woman
wasn't looking her way, Azula didn't temper her smile as she heaved an exaggerated sigh. The
woman immediately fled with her rice papers fluttering over her shoulders like streamers.

When the planner was out of the room, Katara put her head on the table and began to laugh
helplessly; Kanna joined her. Azula was smug. "I think she'll be very nice to you now. If she isn't,
just mention you may need my input."

Katara lifted her hand and pointed. It took her a minute to gather herself. "You're in big trouble!
You've been planning this. I can't believe you made me sit through the meeting this morning!" She
started to laugh again. "E-exactly twenty centimeters deep."

They had a busy few days. Katara dealt with the much nicer wedding planner, and Azula was up to
her eyeballs in requests and donations for her dragon. She hadn't anticipated how much planning it
would take to fit Rakka into her daily life in Capital City. Azula was careful to make time for her
family, especially with Ana in such a new environment. For her part, Ana adapted quickly to the
Fire Nation.

Though the council had been dismissed for an unprecedented holiday, Zuko was as busy as ever.
Azula could guess why, especially with the number of trips he made to and from the Fire Sage
Temple. He would need their approval first for any transfer of power.
Azula was no closer to an answer. She was hovering over a figurative cliff. Her ambivalence was
uncharacteristic, but for every reason Azula could name to accept Zuko's offer, she could name one
to decline.

She disliked the stress this quandary had obviously placed on Katara too, but Azula was hesitant to
bring it up. Katara fluctuated between genuine happiness and feigned happiness, and it hurt Azula
that she had to try at all. So when the temporary Kota, Miza, announced that Kota had delivered
her baby late the night before, Azula resigned herself to a visit if only to see Katara relax for a little
while.

They went that evening after a rushed dinner and a temper tantrum from the youngest member of
their household. Their carriage was surrounded by Dai Li agents for the short trip, more for the
protection of the poor ostrich horse than for Azula. Well-wishers had been numerous, and traveling
outside the palace had proven difficult for all the fuss. Capital City was gradually returning to its
normal population, but people from as far away as Ba Sing Se were still flocking in for a glimpse
of the Royal Dragon. The city council had wisely increased its tourist tax a full two percent.

Kota's family owned a lavish house on the edges of the trade district. A single servant greeted them
at the door. She probably handled most of the house's affairs. The old woman's eyes widened at the
sight of Azula and Katara and the line of Royal Guards behind them, but she recovered to bow.

"We've come to call upon Kota," Azula announced. She also added, "I command her not to serve
me."

"Hi," Katara offered. "I hope we aren't imposing, but Miza said Kota had her baby."

The old woman looked at Azula owlishly as she ushered them inside the house into a comfortable
sitting room. She bowed as she stepped out. "Princess Azula, Lady Katara… I, um…will let the
Little Miss know."

"Little Miss?" Azula murmured to Katara after the woman left.

Katara smacked her gently. "It's cute."

"And a little too young."

"Everybody was a kid at some point."

"I refuse to believe that Lo and Li were ever children."

Katara began to laugh quietly. Her merriment continued as she put her head on Azula's shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I just pictured them as wrinkly babies."

How horrifying.

"Princess Azula, Lady Katara!" Three surprised people stepped into the room. They all had
haphazard appearances: both of the men had hair sticking straight up in the air, and Kota's mother
had more hair out of her topknot than in it. Apparently this day had been insanity for the family,
but they wore outrageously happy grins.

"Good day, Zhong," Azula addressed the younger man. "Congratulations."

Zhong, Kota's husband, was a stablehand of the Royal Palace. He worked more with their small
collection of komodo rhinos than the mongoose dragons, but she knew him by sight. The fact that
Kota noticed the man despite her terror of mongoose dragons amused Azula greatly. Zhong now
beamed at her. "Thank you, Princess. Would you like to see our Jun?"

"That would be acceptable."

Zhong returned to the room carefully cradling a small bundle. The noise that emerged from that
bundle made Azula feel soft; it was the unmistakable sound of a newborn baby. He sat down next
to her. Zhong's eyes remained on his child, and he carefully handed Azula the baby.

She supported the baby's head with her hand and couldn't resist running a finger across the velvety
dark hair on his head. The baby's head was still misshapen from its passage through the birthing
canal, and his round cheeks were marred by a few pimples. He was perfect. Azula touched his
knuckles and brushed a finger over his pursed lips. He rooted in response. His blue eyes opened.
They would probably cloud and darken in half a year.

Azula's throat went tight.

Katara rubbed her shoulder, and Azula turned to her wife. Katara met her eyes, and from that one
soft look Azula knew that this was a certainty for them. She carefully handed the baby over. Katara
gasped and began to baby-talk.

When Katara handed the baby back to Zhong, Azula glanced to Kota's parents. She raised her
eyebrows; they were both crying. How sentimental. "Would it be appropriate to speak to Kota?"

"Oh, of course," Kota's mother said. She got to her feet, and as they stepped into the hallway, she
gasped. "Oh, we haven't offered you tea or—"

"I'm not thirsty, thank you. We don't plan to impose on you long enough to warrant sustenance."

"Sustenance," Katara echoed softly behind her.

Azula sighed. Katara had been in a particularly annoying mood that day.

Kota was sitting up in bed and was far more appropriate for company than her family, but she
seemed self-conscious until Katara rounded the bed and hugged her. "Congratulations. He's
beautiful."

"Thank you, Lady Katara." Kota smiled a small, proud smile.

Azula dryly added, "Yes, my wife was quite happy to note that your son wasn't born a mutant with
any number other than ten fingers or ten toes."

"She thinks he's cute," Katara said.

"He's not as hideous as most newborns," Azula hedged. Kota turned her eyes to her, and Azula
could tell she was fighting the instinct to bow. "Please. You'll have plenty of opportunity to bow to
me when you return."

"Is Miza meeting your needs, Princess?"

"She's adequate. But she isn't you."

Kota smiled.

"That means she misses you," Katara said.

Azula loved Katara, but sometimes she could be irritating. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware I was
speaking in another language." Azula turned back to her servant and ignored Katara's glare. "I'm
sure you're exhausted from forcing that little person out of your body so we'll be leaving. But since
you probably didn't have the opportunity..." She reached into her robes and withdrew a small scroll
of rice paper bound in red silk. She handed it to Kota.

Kota untied it and opened it, and she actually gasped in delight. It was a small water painting of
Rakka. When Kota lifted her head, she met Azula's eyes. The fierce pride in her gaze sharpened
when Azula coaxed the flame of the candle beside her to flicker blue.

"Enjoy your vacation. I imagine we'll be busy when you return."

Katara stiffened, but her smile didn't waver. She went so far as to kiss Kota, who stared at her in
evident horror. They saw themselves out after that; the household was otherwise occupied.
Apparently it was the first diaper changing, and Katara happily informed Azula that was a horrific
moment. As if Zuko hadn't already described that in gory detail. He hadn't changed the diaper, the
coward, but he'd watched.

Her Dai Li had managed to disperse the crowd for the most part, but they were quick to walk from
the house to their carriage. When Katara settled on the back bench, she said, "I got a letter from my
brother."

Azula paused halfway in the carriage. She continued on and sat down beside Katara. She flicked
her hand, and Captain Tao—who had been her shadow the last few days—slipped out of the
carriage without comment. They were on their way home a moment later.

Katara watched her carefully. "Sokka said you asked him if he would be willing to help us have a
child."

Azula realized she hadn't told Katara. She couldn't imagine that Katara would be unhappy about
her suggestion to Sokka, but… "Is that acceptable?"

Katara's expression didn't change. She was studying Azula intently. "You said your mother's been
making lists of Fire Nation men."

"I want to have a child with you, not them."

Katara's tears startled Azula. She couldn't tell if these were happy tears or sad tears, and Katara's
emotions had been all over the scale the last few days, probably for good reason. She wondered too
if Katara wanted to carry their children, but she'd never breathed a hint of having such a desire.

"That isn't our only option."

Katara understood her implication. She wiped her face with a laugh. "I know you think I'm all
about mothering, but whether or not I carry a child isn't a big deal to me. I'd love to see you
pregnant. I know I can at least take care of you during the pregnancy." Her smile shifted into a
teasing grin that put Azula at ease. "Sokka said something about a komodo rhino."

"Artificial insemination," Azula replied with a long-suffering sigh. "I made the unfortunate
comparison to komodo rhino breeding. I'm sure he's been drawing some unpleasant comparisons."

"Yeah, you are not having sex with my brother."

"As if I'd want to."

Katara laughed. "Anyway, Suki's upset."

"Your brother has been instructed to deal with that on his own, but if he can't keep his mouth shut
for a few weeks I have my doubts. When can we expect the Kyoshi assassins?"

"They're already trying to have a baby."

Well, that had worked out well for Sokka, hadn't it? "She knows it isn't a competition, doesn't she?
Sokka would be our hypothetical second child's uncle."

"It's not so cut and dry as that for her. It might not be for Sokka either, but he wants to do this for
us." Katara took Azula's hand. She met and held Azula's eyes. Katara was beautiful in this light.
"I'm going to write him back. Should I ask him to come early for the wedding?"

So soon? What was an eventuality suddenly became a short-term projection. Azula raised her
eyebrows as she considered it. "That's your decision."

"I want to know what you want." Katara was studying her again.

"I want to have a baby…as much as the pregnancy aspect horrifies me."

Whether by her words or what Katara saw in her face, Azula caused her to smile. Katara kissed her
neck and murmured, "You'll love being pregnant. You'll want to do it again and maybe a third
time."

"Let's not get overzealous." Her words prompted a laugh and another kiss.

Still, Katara didn't seem entirely happy, and Azula guessed why. She needed Katara to know she
understood. "You don't have to give anything up for us to have a family."

Katara squeezed her hand. "Sacrifices are part of a relationship. We can't have a family with me in
the South Pole."

Hakoda had been right.

Azula opened her mouth to say maybe Zuko wouldn't ask her, that if he did she would say no, that
Katara meant more to her than the throne, but Katara put a finger over Azula's mouth. "Don't make
promises you can't keep."

"You can ask me anything," Azula replied quietly. She wanted a way out. She didn't know if she
could take a way out without Katara's help. It wasn't just about her own needs and desires, as great
as they were; it was about her nation too. To be Fire Lord… She wanted it so much, but not more
than she wanted Katara's happiness.

Katara smiled at her sadly. "I can't ask you this."

"Katara—"

"I want you to have this. Don't you dare think about martyring yourself for me. I want a family,
and you want glory. We can both have what we want." Katara held Azula's gaze without flinching.
She was telling the truth.

"I want you to be happy too," Azula said quietly.

Katara kissed her. "You make me happy every day."

This time, Azula was the one who didn't believe the lie.
Despite his obvious wish to see Azula's dragon, Zuko didn't come by her apartment until almost a
week after she'd returned. He was in his full formal clothing with his hair drawn up into a loose
topknot, but he still grinned like a little kid when he reached out to touch Rakka.

"She's warm."

How silly. "Of course she's warm. She's a dragon."

"Ran and Shaw had ears." Zuko brushed a finger along one furred pinna. Rakka opened one eye as
she flipped the ear he'd touched.

Apparently he lost all of his brain power at the sight of her dragon. Azula adopted a patronizing
tone. "Of course they did. They created this one."

Zuko was undeterred. "And tusks."

Azula raised her eyebrows as she tried to picture it. Maybe that was an aging change. This dragon
was much different than the dragons their great-grandfathers had ridden. Azula reached out and
placed her hand on the white and blue velvet that lined Rakka's cheeks. Rakka sighed and shifted
closer against her touch.

"Did you really name her after a Water Tribe myth?"

Azula shrugged carelessly. "My bearded cat is also named in the Water Tribe tongue."

"You are a weird mix of nationalism and internationalism." Abruptly, he stepped back and lost his
smile. "I want to show you something."

They walked out of her apartment and through the palace to the throne room. As always, the room
was polished and dusted, but it had a certain emptiness that betrayed it hadn't been used in a long
time. Zuko motioned for her to step up on the throne.

This was it. She knew how this exchange would end, even if she still fluctuated between two
unhappy answers.

With a sigh, Azula set the massive throne alight with her blue fire. This room was designed for the
warm tones of red and orange, and it shifted into dark shadows with her blue fire. Azula expected
to feel a shiver of unease, but she only remembered the look of helplessness on Lo and Li's faces as
they accused each other of speaking against her. She smiled.

"The last time this room looked like this, I must have banished hundreds of servants and guards."
She pointed at her brother childishly. "For old times' sake: You're banished!"

Zuko rolled his eyes without a hint of anger or discomfiture. "Very funny. How long have you been
waiting to say that?"

She smirked at him. Azula didn't release her fire, but she eased the heat with careful control. Zuko's
eyes followed the line of blue-to-orange that swept across the stage, and he rolled his eyes. "Now
you're just showing off. Come on."

She stepped off the stage and released her fire, plunging the room into shadow. Zuko was a dark
silhouette in front of her, and she recalled an odd memory of following Ozai like this. Zuko looked
like his father from behind, but she trusted this man.

Zuko led them on a meandering walk to the Royal Gallery. They started at the oldest tapestries first
and continued on to where his tapestry ended the row. As always, she recited their names silently
as she walked by each. She would be able to choose if she would add another name to that list.

Zuko had beaten her to it. There was already a new tapestry hanging beside Zuko's portrait.

Azula stared up at her likeness, allowing herself a long moment to study it in full. Her visage stood
with arms raised, blue flames pouring from her right hand, an open scroll in her left. The hem of
her robes was embroidered with the Dai Li sigil—which coincidentally represented Ba Sing Se.
Clever. Below her feet were sweeps of water and around her neck was her flaming betrothal
necklace. A blue dragon circled Azula's shoulders and was designed to draw the eyes from
anywhere on that tapestry.

It was rich with symbolism and fuller than most tapestries on this wall. She'd managed this even
after losing the war and managed most of it without her firebending. It was better than she'd ever
imagined. How could she say no?

"You can have it all," Zuko said quietly. He was watching her intently as he spoke. "As you've
always wanted. Full title of Fire Lord, full control over the nation. All of my allies will back you.
That should be enough for an easy transition."

'Easy' was an exaggeration, but it could work. She'd participated in most of Zuko's domestic duties
already, and she'd worked with the ambassadors of the Earth Kingdom enough to have established
at least a tenuous relationship with them. They relied on Fire Nation industry, and they wouldn't be
able to hold rice exports over the Fire Nation's figurative head much longer. Neither Water Tribe
would protest the switch. Azula's reign would work if she wanted it to.

"Is it so easy to give up?" she asked Zuko just as quietly. She shivered between two answers that
would both cause unhappiness. Zuko's answer could make this harder or easier, but she had to
know before she could give him her own, for her brother and her country. Azula wanted this so
much, but Katara…

Zuko's smile was tight. She saw that even after all these years of complaining about the title and
the stress it brought him, he had trouble letting go. It was a relief and disappointment in one.

"I want a new home," Zuko said, only half-believing it. "Aang doesn't have the time to work on
Republic City like he should, and Toph isn't going to be worth anything as a bureaucrat. Azula, I
know you want this too. I'm not just saying this because I want to throw all of my responsibilities
on you, but with everything that's happened... It's not that you can firebend again; it's that you
returned with a dragon. The Fire Sages look at it as a blessing from Agni, and the public worships
the ground that you walk on right now. If you want to be Fire Lord, this is probably the only time
we'll be able to make the switch."

The only chance. This was her only chance, but…

Azula hadn't gone to the Sun Warrior's island to regain her firebending for the throne. She hadn't
tamed her dragon for the throne. She'd gone for Katara, and she'd done the rest for herself. This
was simply an unanticipated repercussion. Katara wouldn't forgive her if she said 'no'. Azula
wouldn't forgive herself if she said 'yes'. And they both would be unhappy with whatever she said
now.

Azula looked back at her tapestry. It was the only one on this wall that was defined by cool colors:
far more blue than orange or red. She glanced at Zuko's contrasting orange tapestry beside hers.
His portrait also contained a first: his right hand was empty, held palm forward in the universal
gesture of peace. Theirs wouldn't be the only brother-sister tapestry combination on this wall, but if
she accepted, their transition would be the only one without blood.

Oh. Azula stilled as she replayed her thought.

Every bit of her ambivalence melted away in disbelief. Azula laughed at herself. Why had she been
waffling about this? She'd known her answer to this question all along, the answer to everything.

Once upon a time, Ozai had drilled into Azula his belief that compromise was a dual loss. To him
there had been nothing but winning or losing, yes or no. Ozai had been wrong about most things,
hadn't he? Compromise could be a victory in itself.

Azula turned to her brother and proposed her idea.

Ana puffed out her cheeks and went red as she tried to force air across her tongue. Tozin and Rina
giggled as they watched. They were so young they didn't understand race. Azula hoped it was an
understanding they would never truly gain, but she knew all of her children would be exposed to
such talk through their lives. She hoped she and Katara could raise them to be impervious to that
worthless criticism.

Azula enjoyed this time in which she didn't have to worry about Katara's certain disapproval. She
shook her head. "No, not from the top. From the bottom." She put her tongue between her lips and
forced air out of the bottom, producing a rude, wet noise. Tozin flopped on his back, laughing, and
Rina bounced on her toes, waiting for Ana to try again.

Ana tried again unsuccessfully.

"Hold your tongue tight to your upper lip. Blow out of the bottom."

This time Ana managed. She also managed to spit as she did it. She laughed in delight and raced
from the balcony into the curtained sitting room. Her cousins followed her. Despite being tiny
human beings, they sounded like a stampede of komodo rhinos.

"Mommy!" Ana shrieked. Apparently Katara was back from her appointment. It sounded like
Katara was greeted with wet raspberries from all three children.

"Children, that is incredibly rude." Katara had an even better mommy voice than Mai. Azula felt a
bit guilty imagining the downcast expressions on the kid's faces.

"But Auntie Azula told us to," said Tozin. Azula no longer felt guilty. Her little nephew had ratted
her out quickly. The rest of the conversation carried out too quietly for Azula to hear, aside from
Kanna's laughter.

When Katara stepped onto the balcony, she wore a sour expression. "You taught her that, huh?"

Azula leaned back in her chair and blew a raspberry.

Katara rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I used to think you were uppity."

Azula held out her arms, and Katara settled in her lap. Azula offered, "I'll have a talk with them
about when it's appropriate to do those things."

"You'll just teach them to do it during a royal procession."

Well, she hadn't planned on it, but now that sounded like an excellent idea. The thought must have
been visible on Azula's face. Katara smiled, but it was a wan expression. Azula knew there could
be many reasons for Katara's subdued mood, but she was triumphant that she could now soothe her
unhappiness. She asked about one matter she couldn't help: "Are you still upset about the Avatar?"

"If you mean 'spitting mad' when you say 'upset', of course I am." Katara sighed and softened
against her. "I'm going to invite him to the wedding. If Aang behaves himself, we'll see."

"I meant what you did to him."

"I know you think I feel guilty about everything, but I promise you, I never was upset about it. I
did it for you." Katara fingered Azula's necklace. "I talked to Zuko."

"What did you talk about with Zuzu?" She knew what they'd talked about, but that didn't explain
why Katara seemed so glum. Azula felt a shiver of uneasy doubt. She'd been so certain that her
answer was the perfect solution.

"He showed me your tapestry. It's beautiful. I can't believe they put a little bit of me on it. Did you
ask for that?" Katara wouldn't meet her eyes as she said it.

"I had no idea the tapestry was even made. It was probably Zuko's influence. Or Mai. She has a
good eye for those things, shockingly. I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but I think she actually
likes you."

The joke didn't soften Katara's serious expression. "I can do it, Azula."

"Do what?" Azula asked, surprised by Katara's determined tone. There really was nothing to be
done.

Katara took a deep breath and finally lifted her gaze. "The village can survive without me. Hama
and Verack and Nema are great waterbenders. Dad will come visit me with Sokka and Gran Gran,
I know it, and I can teach Ana what she needs to know about—"

Azula put her hand gently over Katara's mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"I can be your Fire Lady," Katara said fiercely. She took Azula's hand to kiss it. "I will. I can do
this."

That response only reiterated to Azula that acceptance would have been the wrong answer. Azula
shook her head, sad that after all this Katara still thought she would ask it of her. "Zuko didn't tell
you my answer, I take it. I didn't say 'yes'."

Katara sat up. Her eyes were wide in shock. "What? He said your coronation was going to be in a
few weeks!"

Azula held her eyes. "Yes, only with your approval."

Katara continued to stare at her, and Azula elaborated. "I didn't say 'yes', but I didn't say 'no'. Zuko
won't be abdicating. Ruling will be a shared responsibility. It's probably foolish, but we've
managed well enough these last few years. It won't be much different than what we've been doing,
but Zuko will be free to travel to oversee Republic City's growth."

Zuko had been as dubious towards the idea as the Fire Nation on a whole would be. Two Fire
Lords spelled disaster, unrest, and civil war; but times had been changing since the end of the war.
Family no longer equated enemy, and the trust they'd built in each other would bear them through
the distrust that their nation would likely turn on their coregency.
 Proving those doubts wrong would be worth it.

Azula kissed Katara's knuckles. "And I'll be free to travel with you to the South Pole at least once a
year, possibly two shorter trips per year given all the fun customs you have during the spring and
autumn. I would prefer we avoid deep winter. I'm not sure I'd stay sane with constant nightfall, but
we can certainly work out what will be best for both of us. I may not be able to stay as long as you
need to, but we'll only spend a few weeks apart instead of months."

Katara's eyes filled with tears. "You would give this up for me? It's everything you've ever
wanted."

"It's a hairpiece, a tapestry, and a title; and I didn't give them up at all." It was a great deal more
than that, but it was easier to reduce after her decision. "And that isn't even close to everything I've
wanted. In fact, I have several demands."

Katara's brow tightened in confusion.

Azula took a long breath to gather herself as she met and held Katara's eyes.

"First: We will stay together no matter what continent we may be on. Second: We will marry here
so that my people know you're my wife. Third: We will raise Ana as our daughter so that she
knows both nations are her home. Fourth: We will have a baby…maybe two. Finally: We will
make a good life for our family until we're old and gray and wrinkled and we die in our sleep
together as happy, deaf great-grandmothers."

Katara's expression broke with a wide smile and tears, and she laughed when Azula continued,
"Congratulations, that's my allotment of romantic declarations for a decade."

Katara kissed her hand and met Azula's eyes. There was only happiness in her face now, and that
was the greatest victory of all. Katara said, "You know what? I want all of that too."

Chapter End Notes

Epilogue to follow
 Epilogue: Infinity is closer than you think
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Azula shuffled around in the kitchen, irritated that even after living in this house on Ember Island
for as long as she had, she had no idea where anything was in this room. She procured a glass from
the top shelf and had a perplexing wrestling match with the wine bottle to get the damn cork out.

Finally, filled glass in hand, she walked out to the moonlit beach.

"Fire Lady."

Katara raised an eyebrow as she looked at the glass Azula handed her. "I'm not calling you 'Fire
Lord'. This is a whiskey snifter."

"It holds liquid," Azula said as she sat in the chair beside Katara. "With the trouble I had getting
that particular liquid into it, you aren't going to complain. It was your idea to send all the servants
away."

"You enjoyed it last night."

And that day. There was something to be said for total privacy. They'd had sex in some very
interesting places. She would enjoy the expression on Zuko's face when she told him why his
beloved beach chair was broken.

It was perhaps the first time she and Katara were totally alone anywhere in the Fire Nation. If
Katara felt as awkward around Azula's servants as Azula felt sharing an apartment with Katara's
grandmother and a toddler…well, they'd both been missing out.

Not that she could ever regret Kanna or Ana.

Just last week, Ana had looked at her and called her 'Momma'. There were still no words to
describe that memory or how it felt to hear that every day. It gave her a new appreciation for what
such a term could mean. Maybe she would never be completely comfortable calling Iroh 'Father',
but she knew trying made a difference. He smiled every time. If only Ursa didn't break down into
tears every time.

Azula enjoyed this quiet honeymoon with Katara, but she missed their little girl. It was going to be
hard watching them leave to return to the South Pole. Azula had to stay to iron out all the careful
details of her coregency with Zuko, but she had a firm date for when she would meet her family in
the South Pole. If it came down to it, she'd ride her dragon there.

Katara rubbed Azula's foot with her own. She took a sip of her wine and paused with her nose
wrinkled. Katara spat into her palm. "There's cork in this wine! How in the world did you open the
bottle?"

"I couldn't find the corkscrew," Azula admitted.

Katara sighed and flicked her wrist. She levitated the wine midair and somehow managed to shake
the bits of cork out of it. Back into the glass it went. "You're so silly," Katara said indulgently. Her
foot began to rub against Azula's again. "I bet you can tell me every detail about how this wine was
made, but you can't even open the bottle without a corkscrew."
She could, but she didn't have to admit to it. Azula leaned over to kiss Katara's bare shoulder. "I
made you dinner, and I poured you wine. What do I get in return?"

"You also made an unholy mess in the kitchen."

"Cooking is messy," Azula replied. She gave Katara's skin another kiss and inhaled a pleasant
breath of Katara's scent. "I'm glad I have servants who are much cleaner than I." She paused.
"Would you entertain the thought of riding a dragon?"

Katara's laughed nervously. "You should have told me that before I started the wine."

Azula whistled, drawing a wince from Katara, and Rakka flew towards them a moment later. Her
dragon landed and slithered up the beach. She crooned and accepted a scratch along her eye-ridge.
Then she cracked a yawn that revolted both Azula and Katara.

"Gross. What has she been eating?"

"Apparently rotten fish." Azula shivered and waited for her stomach to settle. This late in the day
was rarely an issue, but after that stench… "You sit behind her head."

"We're really doing this," Katara said helplessly. She put her glass of wine on the beach table after
a longing look. She settled onto Rakka's strong neck and held onto her horns with a death grip.
Azula climbed up behind her and grabbed the horns as well. Rakka's undulating flight pattern had
gotten better the last few months, and she was far more aware of the human riding her than she
used to be, but it still required a steady seat.

Eventually they would be in-tune enough with each other that Azula could fly just cranial to her
wings. It was the seat of battle, but that wasn't appropriate for tonight.

Azula clucked quietly and concentrated on the thought of flight, and Rakka gave a gentle push off
of the beach. Katara gasped, and her body flexed against Azula's. "Use your thighs," Azula said in
her ear.

Katara was sitting as tight as Azula had her first flight, but Azula was firm in her seat. Even if
Katara relaxed, it would take a great deal to break Katara from her arms.

They flew over the moonlit beach around the island. Perhaps it seemed fast to Katara, but Rakka
was gliding lazily on the strong breeze. Some teenagers were sitting around a bonfire on the beach
near the town of Ember Island, and Azula seized that flame and turned it blue.

The kids all shouted, and one girl screamed as Rakka swept over them. Rakka roared happily and
roared louder when they flew by the Ember Island theater. The few people who'd escaped the play
on the veranda gaped at them as they swept by.

Katara began to laugh, and Azula laughed with her. Rakka provoked shouts and screams from the
people in the streets below, but Azula coaxed her higher, and Katara gasped as Rakka quickly
gained altitude. They flew through the low-hanging clouds and Rakka banked in a wide spiral.
Azula's stomach didn't appreciate that motion. She took them back to the ground out of self-
preservation.

Katara's laughter as they staggered onto the beach made it worth it. "That was amazing!"

Rakka preened, and Katara turned to give the dragon a hug around her snout. Rakka crooned.
When Katara stepped back, the dragon took off gently from the beach and flew in low circles
around them, breathing blue fire rings and flying through them.
 This time she and Katara shared a beach chair and watched the dragon play. Katara moved
carefully against her and picked up her wine glass. Her hand rubbed soothing circles against
Azula's belly. "How are you feeling?"

"The same as when you asked me an hour ago," Azula teased. She took Katara's hand. "I have
another request."

Katara kissed her indulgently. "What do you want, oh mighty Fire Lord?"

Well, that stroked her ego. This wasn't a request from the Fire Lord though. "Let's walk on the
ocean again."

Katara's smile was gentle, and she stood up. This time she dumped out her wine and set the empty
snifter on the table. Katara began to walk down to the ocean, and she called over her shoulder, "I
think we can do that."

Azula hastened to follow.

They pushed through the breakers, and Katara buoyed them up onto the surface and extended the
ice bridge beneath their feet. They walked hand in hand towards the moon, happy in their silence.
When they did stop, Azula asked, "This is where we started, isn't it?"

Katara rolled her eyes though she smiled. "I remember a few months of getting to know each other
before that."

Azula wasn't deterred. "Do you remember what you asked me?"

They stood on that bridge of ice and turned towards each other. The full moon lit Katara's face.
When she looped her arms around Azula's neck, Katara's long look was all love and tenderness.
"How close have you been to infinity, Azula?"

Azula met her wife's eyes soberly. "Kiss me again, and I'll tell you."

Katara smiled softly and kissed her. And kissed her again. And again. "Guess what?" Katara said.
"I happen to have an endless supply of kisses."

Chapter End Notes

Writing this was a long journey for me. I've made only a few edits from the original
version on fanfiction.net, but I hope those edits improved the story even a small
amount. Thank you for reading.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!