Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction and therefore the author claims no rights to the canonical content or characters (Avatar: the Last Airbender is property of Nickelodeon in part with Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante Dimartino).

Warning: there will be quite a bit of OOC elements to this story. While I was reading up on bloodbending, it was stated that there can be numerous negative long term effects (especially on the psyche) and I was eager to write a story that explores that facet of the bending. A LOT.

Prologue

ASC 110: Ten years after the fall of the Phoenix King.

"You need to stop lying to yourself, Zuko. It isn't flattering."

The words were hissed through cold, iron bars in the still of night. Outside—from what could be seen of the outside through the small, slitted window so far above the ground—there was no light. No glow from the moon, nor any from the stars, and not a single cloud floated across the sky. It was dark and it was cold (too cold, it seemed, for the Fire Nation) and Zuko found himself moving closer to the flame of the torch he held as he knelt down before the bars to the cell.

He sighed deeply, the weight of their troubles hanging heavily in the set of his jaw and the slant of his brow. His pale hand wrapped around the metal that separated them and the pain was obvious in his face and in the white-knuckled grasp—but it was not physical. His heart hurt. He felt as though it was going to drown him at any given moment and he would just give in if it would stop making him feel so bad.

The clicking noise she made with her tongue echoed around the stone walls drew him away from his thoughts and he slowly opened his eyes, letting them focus again on the woman in front of him.

"I don't know what else to do. You're not leaving me much of a choice." His head hung low, but he watched her through narrowed eyes.

Katara chuckled cruelly and rolled her eyes at his reply. "That's not true. You have many choices. You just don't like the one you picked." It was his choice—and she felt the need to remind him. He could so easily change their situation—he could let her go—

He shook his head. "I can't, Katara. This is the way it has to be. This is the lesser of the two evils."

Her body slammed up against the metal door encaging her and the hinges shook at the sudden motion. Katara's eyes were wide with emotion—was it fury or pain, he couldn't tell—and she shook at the iron ineffectively. "Locking me up is the lesser of your evils? Am I evil now, Fire Lord?" It was shocking how piercing and dangerous her voice sounded as it bounced throughout the stone fortress.

Zuko looked at her sadly. Why hadn't he seen it sooner?

"You're not evil, Katara." He reached out and brushed his fingers against the cool skin of her teeth. It was almost surprising when she flinched away (he'd expected her to snap at him with her teeth this time). He shook his head. "What you've done is evil."

"I saved people," she shouted. Her fists swung against the hard metal and he knew it hurt her, but she refused to show any sign of pain. "I saved you!"

"You've killed innocent people—"

"They were not innocent!"

"—and you've perverted the gift you were blessed with. You used to heal people, Katara. What happened to that?"

Her eyes slashed right through him. "I'm healing the world. If you had any sense, you'd help me."

"And I want to help you," he said softly. He reached in through the bar and took her hand in his, winding his fingers between hers. Agni help me. He hoped for a moment that her eyes would soften—that the wonderful, soothing ocean in her soul that he'd grown so addicted to would be his to see once more. But her stony exterior did not give way, and she stared him down as though she was a lionshark that was calculating his every move before he even thought it. Zuko pulled her hand through and grazed his warm lips against the chalky skin on her knuckles. "But this is not how to heal the world."

She used to know that (but then his helping had changed it all.)

"What is your plan, then, Great Son of Ozai?" He flinched at the title. Her fingernails dug into his skin but he didn't let her hand go. Her tongue spoke as though laced with fire and poison but he did not stand down. "Will you raze the world like the Phoenix King?"

She pulled him closer by the arm, until the only thing keeping their lips from touching was the tense breath that fanned from both their mouths. He tried to pretend she looked scared—and maybe she did, but she'd become such a great actress that he couldn't tell. "Foreign relations and peace treaties be damned, you know as well as the next that there is nothing keeping the unity of our new world except the fear of another inevitable power struggle. Will you bring about the glory of the ever prosperous Fire Nation once more? With me at your side, it would be so easy to pick through and keep only those best suited for your utopia—all this in the name of peace. Tell me, Fire Lord, will we all be great firebenders?"

"No," he said after a belated pause. He finally dropped her hand and stepped back (it may have been his imagination, but he thought she leaned in follow of his retreat). "But we won't be bloodbenders, either. We will be a world of free people—with free will and honour and dignity."

Control over our own bodies.

Zuko hung the torch back in its bracket beside the door to her cell and sighed. Maybe another day would wield more satisfying results—and maybe another day would find her more the woman he once knew.

"Goodnight, Katara."

She yelled at him as he began the long trek down the hall. "You're just going to walk away from me, then?"

His footsteps halted—but he could not turn to look at her. The desperate glimmer in her eyes as they reflected the torchlight—he couldn't see it. He couldn't look back and swear to Agni that the imperceptible tilt to her lips was her old self fighting through. He couldn't let himself be swallowed alive by the hope.

Not again.

"I will never walk away from you." In the deep pockets of his cloak, his fingers rubbed against the silken ribbon that she had once worn so proudly around her delicate neck. They tightened around the stone—he could feel his muscles straining with the vice—and his eyes clenched shut. "But I can't stand so closely anymore."

Her fists slammed against the metal in time with his footsteps as he continued on his way. "You're a traitor, Zuko! That's all you've ever been."

It cut, but Fire Lord Zuko had more important things to consider than his damaged pride and torn heart. "Maybe. But you betrayed yourself long ago."

-/-/-

The Council of Nations was particularly solemn that morning. Perhaps it was the rain that pounded against the roof of the Royal Palace. Perhaps it was the very-public-and-very-sad funeral procession that had marched through the city the last three days as families carried off diseased corpses to be cremated. Perhaps their travels had been uneasy or perhaps it was simply the atmosphere of the War Room itself.

It could have been any of those reasons, Zuko figured, but he was more than willing to bet that the downcast eyes and forlorn expressions were more due to the nature of their meeting than any outside influence. Even Aang hadn't cracked a smile since he took his seat opposite the Fire Lord's throne (Zuko hated sitting in the throne—hated being set apart when they were meant to be discussing unity and equality).

So many eyes were watching him—how long had they just been staring?—and Zuko felt his stomach twist uneasily, more so than it had been doing on its own for weeks. He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and pulled himself to a full stand (he really hated that throne).

"Well?" The elder from the Northern Water Tribe was the first to speak and the rasping quality to his voice bitterly reminded Zuko just how close to the situation they all really were.

His hands clasped behind his back. "As of now, we have the bloodbender locked in the palace hold. After the last attack, guards—"

Aang bolted from his seat. "You locked up Katara?"

Zuko's ears thrummed in pain and he had to look away from the boy. "Avatar Aang, I respectfully implore you to refrain from interrupting so that we may solve this matter as painlessly as possible."

Please.

Even Sokka had remained silent thus far. Aang took his seat once more—though it wasn't Zuko's imagination that the boy looked more crestfallen than he had before—and Zuko nodded at him, silently expressing his gratitude. Toph sat to the left of the boy and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder but her head remained staring, unseeing, at the dark fabric pooling on her lap (and if anyone asked, she was most definitely not crying, got it Sparky?).

He took in a deep breath. "After the last attack, we have decreased guard activity around her immediate cell but the security of the wing has been insured by a series of locks that are specific to firebenders. For the safety of my staff, she has been receiving a regulated dose of sedatives with her meals and a limited supply of water throughout the day with no access at night." (He felt sick to his stomach.)

Zuko tried very hard to keep his chin high as he avoided the probing eyes of the chair members before him. "I must stress that if this were not such a serious threat, I would never approve such treatment." As it was, he barely tolerated it.

He watched Sokka's eyes narrow and Hakoda's eyes narrow at the verbalization of Katara being a threat—especially a serious one—and he found himself unable to look away.

"The bloodbender—Master Katara, is a great personal friend of mine (as well as many of yours) and I find my judgment to be clouded. This is why I humbly ask you—all of you—not as Fire Lord but as a man and a fiancé," he choked back the word with burning eyes and a heavy tongue. "I ask you for your guidance and your assistance."

Years ago, it would have been a sign of weakness and submission when the Fire Lord sunk to his knees in a rigid bow before the council. Now, however, he simply meant to demonstrate his complete compliance and respect.

Hands on his knees, Zuko did not raise his head. "I beg you to help me make the right choice."

-/-/-

Sokka's fist slammed into the wall with a loud crash.

The council had ruled that bloodbending was an ethical breach of human rights—no matter what nation or element you belonged to.

Crash.

Katara was being tried for not only bloodbending—but also murder.

Crash.

Six known charges of murder.

Crash.

They had emphasized the word 'known'.

Crash.

As if there could be more.

Crash. Crash Crash.

His—

Crash.

—baby—

Crash.

—sister!

Crash.

"Sokka!"

Suki rushed in as fast as she could (and for being nine-months-pregnant-and-still-counting, that was pretty fast). She grasped his forearm between her hands before he could deal another blow to the apparently offending wall, and though her fingers were soft and her touch was light, he knew that he wouldn't get away if he tried.

"Suki," he croaked out—and that was all he could say before the tears swelling in his eyes overflowed and then suddenly he was sobbing into her shoulder (sobbing in a manly way, to be sure) and his hands held her small frame against him so tightly she briefly wondered if he'd ever snapped anyone in half. She ran her hands through his long, dark hair and whispered at him and hushed him and softly muttered words that had before comforted him so well. His hand that he'd been using to desecrate the wall stung and he knew it was bleeding all over Suki's pretty wrap, but he couldn't find it in him to move or pull away or stop crying.

Her hands feathered across his face as she pulled back and she wiped away the tears from his cheeks. "Sokka, talk to me." He wanted to look away, but she held his face just-so and wiped away his tears—and he just couldn't. He gripped her tighter and cried again into the crook of her neck, mumbling and shaking his head back and forth as she rubbed his back.

"They can't," he finally stuttered out when he felt like he could breathe again. "The sentencing—I can't—they—they're going to kill her. They're going to kill Katara."