A/N: Merely a fragment that popped into my head and demanded to be written. Having not seen Book Two and only read about it, I am uncertain about Azula as a character. Constructive criticism greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or anything connected with it.
For His Sake
The blades were sharp. Sharp and ready. They had been waiting for this day for a long time. As he held them in his hands he knew that the time had come. Four broadswords. Some would call it over-kill, for him it was just enough.
Zuko turned and strode out into the corridors of the castle. He followed secret passages and servant stairways to arrive at the throne room door unnoticed by anyone. Azula was already there. Her eyes were filled with flame. "Zuko! What –"
She didn't finish her sentence. Zuko had drawn two of his broad-swords. He advanced on his sister, pinning her against the wall.
Realisation filled her eyes. She automatically slid into a fire-bending stance. "You're on their side, aren't you? You always we – "
Once again she was interrupted. Zuko dived towards, her swords at the ready. She moved as if to throw a blast of fire at him. Then, her back was to the wall and her neck encircled by steel. The force of Zuko's blow had driven the tips of the sword deep into the wooden wall. The swords crossed and prevented any moment except on pain of a very bloody death.
Azula was many things, but stupid was not one of them. She knew escape was currently impossible and any attempt would be met with brutal force by the prince who still stood by her.
Zuko drew his second pair of broadswords. He sat down his back to the wall, far enough away that Azula could not reach him. He kept his swords within easy reach, in case reinforcements tried to reach the throne room. The Fire Lords of old had been paranoid about assassins, so their was only one door into the throne hall and he was guarding it. His father awaited judgment within.
"Why?" Azula's question broke the silence. "You had your chance to choose them and you chose us."
"You're right." ,said Zuko, his voice bitter . "I made a choice. But it was the wrong choice." His hand rose, almost involuntarily, to brush his scar. "The wrong choice." ,he repeated. "So I'm changing it; changing it to the right choice."
He shifted his weight slightly, as if to get more comfortable. "Why? Why?" He paused. His eyes grew glassy, remembering some distant event. "Why? I guess, for the sake of that boy who once asked me, 'Do you think we could have been friends?' Yes , for his sake."
Zuko was silent once more.