Zuko valued his friends' input when it came to Azula, but none of their opinions did he value more than his Uncle's. He planned to bring the subject of Azula up over tea that afternoon. Turns out, he didn't have to.
"I heard that a vote is to be held to decide Azula's punishment," the aging man says, taking a seat beside his nephew. They currently inhabit one of the palace sitting rooms. Iroh visits Zuko often, more than Zuko found entirely necessary. But he isn't complaining.
"Where did you hear that?" Zuko asks, blowing on his hot tea. It was only after he suffered through the palace servant's many tea-making blunders that he truly appreciated his Uncle's skill with the drink.
"The Avatar has been flying around on that glider of his alerting the townspeople," he explains. "And young Miss Toph has been upheaving the rocks all through the city to make the announcement."
Zuko sighs at that. He hopes Toph doesn't destroy any precious monuments this time.
"It's true," Zuko confirms. "I plan to consult Mai about it later, but I thought I'd come to you first."
Iroh sips his tea. "What is there to ask? You're putting it to vote, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, but I could potentially disagree with the decision the people come to."
"That's the voting system for you," Iroh shrugs.
Zuko purses his lips. The thought of the people sentencing his sister to be thrown into a volcano or something occurs to him. He doesn't like the thought. Although Azula could probably handle a volcano.
If she were stable, that is.
"So I have to go along with whatever the vote decides?" Zuko frowns.
"I'm not saying that," Iroh says, "but if you don't, I doubt the general public would take it very well, especially after all these years of propaganda and silencing."
"Maybe I should retract the voting," Zuko considers.
"The people already know about the voting," Iroh shakes his head. "If you retract it now, you will likely make them feel quieted and oppressed."
Zuko leans against the couch, groaning. Perhaps he should've thought this through.
Iroh, taking note of his nephews distress, adds, "Do not underestimate the people of the Fire Nation, Zuko. Perhaps they will come to a wise decision."
"And if they don't?"
"It is not wise to worry about things that may never happen, my nephew," he says. "It is a waste of time and thought. Most of the things we worry about never come to fruition at all."
Zuko runs a hand through his shaggy hair. How can he know if the people come to a wise decision if he doesn't even know what that decision is?
"You look distressed, Firelord Zuko," Iroh notes. "Why don't we go get some fire flakes?"
"Sounds great, Uncle," Zuko accepts. He could do with a nice, quiet meal right now.
"By the way," Iroh says, "does Azula know of these plans for her?"
Blue fire flies into the curtain, setting them ablaze. That's the fourth set of curtains this week.
"A vote?" Azula shrieks, her voice shrill, the last licks of fire dancing off her tongue. "A vote?"
Ty Lee cowers in an armchair, stuffed into one corner of the suite. The room Azula's holed in is relatively luxurious. A four-poster bed, a mahogany dresser, even a window, though it's thankfully too tiny for even her small frame to dive out of.
"The flying guy said something about it," Ty Lee explains, warily eying the ignited curtains to her left. She deftly rises to her feet and releases the curtain rod, letting the burning fabric fall to the ground. She stomps upon the flames quickly until the fire extinguishes.
"By 'flying guy', you mean the Avatar, of course," Azula notes. Her old friend's obliviousness is hardly worth noting anymore.
Ty Lee frowns, catching on to the patronization in her voice. "Maybe."
Azula shrieks again. It doesn't take much for her to resort to that anymore. "Well, who else would it have been, Ty Lee?!"
Ty Lee cowers again. She'd stood up to Azula before, and she's glad she had. And now, the deranged girl has no power over her. However, standing up to her now doesn't feel right.
Azula is not like she was. She was once cool, collected, effortlessly intimidating, able to bring an army to its knees with a look in her eye. Now, she's unhinged, overemotional, and irrational. Ty Lee visits because she feels sorry for the girl she once called a friend. No one else ever visits except her brother. Not even Mai.
"It makes sense that the Avatar would arrange such a thing," Azula begins pacing the room in thought. "Of course, he would have it out for me. Perhaps with the proper velocity in jumping out the window I can escape in time and claim my throne in my father's name."
Ty Lee frowns. Azula is not the strategist she once was. Maybe her mind is too jumbled for it now. However, Ty Lee is no strategist either, and she's sure Azula will be quick to point that out if she makes note of the flaws in this already-considered plan.
"When is this vote?" Azula barks once she's done murmuring about futile escape attempts.
"Tomorrow at sundown," Ty Lee reveals.
"We must avert it."
We? Does she think there's still a 'we'? Is there still a 'we'?
"Maybe the people will surprise you," Ty Lee suggests. "You did almost rule them, after all." And banished a good lot of them for a while, but she leaves out that detail.
Azula scoffs. "People have proven very surprising recently."
Ty Lee wonders if this is partially directed at her. She wants to feel bad, but she doesn't, which consequently makes her feel bad. Emotions are a tricky thing, as exemplified in Azula's current state.
"It's getting late," Ty Lee notes the angle of the sun, an easy task without curtains blocking her view.
"You're leaving?" Azula tries—and fails—to keep the disappointment from her voice.
Ty Lee hops off the armchair and moves toward the door. "I plan to come back soon, as usual. So long as you're not carted off to some prison or something."
Ty Lee leaves on this note, unaware of the foreboding effect the words have on the girl she once called a friend. She slides out of the thick, metal doorway, which is immediately pulled and bolted shut behind her.
Ty Lee turns to face the girl locking the door.
"Why don't you ever come in and talk to her, Mai?" Ty Lee asks curiously.
Mai yanks on the door a few times, making sure it's closed. "I have nothing to say to her."
Once sure the door is properly bolted, she starts down the hallway, Ty Lee falling into step beside her.
"If you have nothing to say to her, then why do you come at all?" she asks.
"I'm making sure you don't get your pretty hair fried off," Mai says with a nonchalant lilt in her voice. She does this intentionally. She doesn't want people knowing she genuinely cares about their well-being. "Come to think of it, why do you have anything to say to her at all?"
"I don't really have anything in mind when I get here," Ty Lee reveals.
"No surprise there," Mai groans.
The dig at her intelligence doesn't get past Ty Lee, but she dutifully ignores it.
"She's our friend, Mai," Ty Lee says.
"She nearly killed me."
"You nearly killed her."
"Because she wanted to kill me."
"That's a little complicated, isn't it?" Ty Lee frowns.
"Maybe for you."
Another jab at her intelligence. She ignores it again.
She smiles broadly. She's noticed that smiling usually puts her in a better mood, even if she's not happy to begin with.
"How about we go get some fire flakes?"
Katara and Aang shared their serving of firing flakes set in the center of the table. After Aang had flown threw the city alerting the citizens of the vote, he'd spotted Katara among the crowds. He'd landed directly in front of her with barely a thump on the ground and offered her dinner at the restaurant they just so happened to be standing near.
It's definitely one of the smoothest displays Katara has ever witnessed. Even Jet would feel a little outdone.
"Good flakes," Aang comments.
"Yeah," Katara agrees. "Tangy."
They eat in a silence for a while. Usually, the silence would be comfortable. That's how it's always been with the pair of them. Now, not so much.
"Does this qualify as our first date?" Aang blurts, hastily stuffing a fire flake into his mouth the second the question leaves it.
Katara stiffens. "A date?"
"Yeah," Aang confirms with his mouth full. "You know . . . since . . ."
"Is that Mai and Ty Lee?" Katara exclaims, grateful for the distraction. She knows this could be valuable to discuss, but she never wants to. If the two of them are to establish a relationship with each other, this talk is a significant initiation, but Katara never feels like having it.
Aang looks over his shoulder. Indeed, Mai and Ty Lee take seats at a table two down from them. Mai faces their direction, and as she sits she meets eyes with Katara. She remains stoic, content on ignoring the former rivals, but Ty lee notices her locked gaze. She turns in her chair and, recognizing the pair, waves her hand back and forth enthusiastically.
"Hi, guys!" she chirps across the empty table that separates them.
"Hey, Ty Lee," Katara responds kindly. As much as Ty Lee had put her friends in danger, without Azula, she had been proving rather harmless, friendly even.
As Ty Lee strikes up a conversation, Aang slumps in his seat, disappointed.
I'm thinking Ty Lee might have a bigger part in this story than I originally planned. Special thanks to a couple of my friends who gave me helpful input about her, because I was kind of skeptical about her characterization. I don't know either of their usernames on here, so yeah. My friends. Them. Those people. Thanks, pair of friends.