Summary: Measure Each Step side-story. Takes place during the last chapter of book two (read it first). Katara's thoughts as she waits for Azula to return (from Agni Kai).

Letting go is the hardest part

Katara didn't refuse to see Azula's Agni Kai because she felt so betrayed by everything Azula had done in the last day; Katara refused because she was afraid the temptation to intervene would be too great. All it would take was one sharp yank of her hand to trip Azula's opponent or jerk his arm and send him to his death. She knew without a doubt that she could bloodbend without the full moon. She could do it if she had to to save Azula from injury or death.

Azula would never forgive her for that. Katara would never forgive herself either.

She was surprised to see Kota walk into Azula's bedroom only a minute after she'd left with Azula. Katara had remained there frozen in her own fear. Kota smiled gently at Katara, welcome and a comfort. "Lady Katara, we should sit out on the balcony."

"Please, Kota." Katara held out her hand, and Kota took it with an uncomfortable smile.

"Katara," the woman corrected herself carefully. On most other occasions, seeing Kota's lips twist as she delivered Katara's name without a title was funny. Today it was just sad.

Sometimes she could be swept away by the beauty and wealth and formality of the Fire Nation. Most of the time, Katara was saddened that Azula could share her daily life with the people she called her servants and they would never be comfortable enough to use her name.

They walked out to the balcony. The setting sun was sharp against her eyes, and the air was hot and heavy against her skin. She missed the South Pole so much. Her home always drew her back like Azula always drew her here. She could resist her home to stay through their anniversary. If Azula didn't... Katara swallowed the lump in her throat and refused to finish that thought.

Azula thought she was invincible, but Katara had learned firsthand it wasn't true.

And in these years since the war… She knew as much as Azula tried to hide it that she didn't keep up with her bending. It was so unlike her girlfriend to let that aspect of herself go, but Azula carried her loss from the end of the war around like some sort of personal burden. Maybe she thought she didn't deserve to bend anymore. Katara just prayed Azula had kept up enough to win this Agni Kai.

Who knew. Maybe Azula didn't practice her firebending when Katara was in the Fire Nation because she thought Katara didn't want her to, and she was still as good as she'd been during the war. Azula's motivations always seemed so convoluted even if they were simple. In this, Katara couldn't guess the truth.

Whenever she'd tried to talk about it, Azula had gotten angry enough that Katara had just let it go. An illogical part of her (one that she couldn't turn off) was upset that she was the reason for Azula's personal burden. She shouldn't have let it go, but at the time it hadn't seemed worth fighting about. She'd been wrong; Azula's firebending turned out to be more important than she'd ever thought. The violence of this nation even in peacetime scared Katara.

These people called her a savage, but they lived and breathed blood and fire. They met each other with cruel words and violence that stunned her. She could forget that Azula was one of them sometimes. It had been easier on Ember Island. When Azula smiled at her with love and vulnerability, she forgot what Azula could look so fierce and terrifying when she was in a rage. In Capital City, Azula was less the awkward dorky doofus Katara knew and more the unfathomable warrior princess.

Knowing that Azula had chosen this life for herself made Katara fear that she'd lose all those soft moments altogether. She didn't want Azula to become the person she'd been during the war. She was angry that Azula wanted to become that again. She was angry too that Azula had thrown away whatever chance they may have had to make a life together in both of their homes.

Most of all she was angry that Azula might be about to throw her life away.

Katara slowly sat down with her back against the balcony railing. Kota carefully settled next to her, still holding her hand.

"I thought you would go with Azula."

"The princess asked me to stay with you."

Katara's anxiety tightened her throat. "If she needs you—"

"Princess Azula needs only herself. She's been groomed for this her entire life," Kota said quietly. "I watched her grow up, Lady Katara. I watched her train to become the warrior she is now. Lam will die so that she can prove that to the Fire Nation again."

Those words were not comforting. Azula was so foreign. Sometimes she was exotic, and sometimes (like when she'd drawn her dagger at the wedding and looked at her own brother like he was her prey) she was just alien.

"I'm so afraid she'd going to change."

"She has changed." Kota squeezed her hand gently. "She's changed into the woman you love, the woman who loves you. The last few years she's needed to recover from her loss during the war, but now the princess is ready to be who she needs to be. She's ready to lead her nation again."

Katara glanced at her. "Did you see her during Sozin's Comet?" Azula had never spoken of it to her, but she'd learned from Iroh that Azula had been plagued with hallucinations of Ursa. It was one issue Katara knew she absolutely had to leave alone.

Kota frowned. "I should have stayed. She banished me. She banished everyone."

"Why?"

Kota shook her head. "We would have stayed if we had known about the effects of the comet."

"She can be so awful to you."

Kota laughed. "The princess doesn't tolerate stupidity; we all know that. But she isn't cruel. She takes care of us too, in her way."

"I can bloodbend," Katara said in a rush. "I would have gone to support her, but I'm afraid I would use it against the man she's fighting. I know I should be there to support her, but if I did that…"

"Then it's better for you to be here," Kota said without judgment. Katara shuddered as Kota released some of the guilt that sat heavy on her shoulders.

They both went quiet as they waited for the eighth hour. When the clock in Azula's sitting room chimed eight times, Kota's hand tightened against Katara's. They both jumped at the sound of the distant gong.

It felt like an eternity passed. Then a sound broke the silence of the royal palace: a din of thunder. Applause. And with it, Katara heard a deep, sonorous chant of three syllables: A-ZU-LA-A-ZU-LA-A-ZU-LA.

She looked at Kota and watched the woman's usually somber face stretch in a proud smile. The other servants of Azula's household stepped out onto the balcony to listen. They carried themselves like Azula's victory was their own. They loved Azula fiercely, contrary to Katara's every expectation.

Katara wished she could mirror their pride. All she felt in that moment was fear for how this would change things.

She wouldn't let Azula go, but she was afraid she might not have a choice.

-end-