Fire

Disclaimer- As far as I'm concerned I don't own Avatar. Good thing I don't or else their would be new episodes for months!

Hey, first off I'd like to thank those loyal reviewers. You guys are great! Also in response to some of you, I'm very sorry if I made Sokka look bad. I actually really like him in the show, but in my story he's going through a rough time. So I assure you that all the actions in here are for a purpose. (Sorry if I can't please everybody cause it seems like I have a variety of shippers here) Okay here a new (a little longer chapter!)

(Five months earlier)

A little whiskey didn't do anyone any harm. But a few bottles later, Toph knew she had long ago passed her limits. Of course at the moment it didn't matter at the moment, she was far from having her head on her shoulders, that she was completely drunk lying with the young, married Fire Lord.

Toph hiccupped, and wiped her silk sleeve across her mouth. She felt more than woozy, but took another drag of Fire Whiskey and set it on the table next to her. Well at least she thought it was the table. The bottle shattered and all its contents seeped out, damping the end of her skirt. "Damn. That was the last of it."

"Never mind," he whispered. "You're blind, you can't help it."

Under normal circumstances Toph would have kicked him between the legs, but she was too sober for that. Instead a smile tugged at her lips.

There was no bed, only the carpeted floor. After all this was the Fire Lord's grand meeting room, filled with columns and red dyed walls. Nothing but a candle lit the room.

"Toph," his voice slurred. A hand captured her waist and dragged her down to the floor. It was calloused, a sure sign of a master swordsman. She giggled as it twisted a lock of her loose hair with one hand, and cupped her chin in the other. In return, she snuggled closer to him, her head lolling in the process.

"You smell nice. Like uncle's tea."

"Shud' up Hot Breath."

They kissed- they seemed to be doing a lot of that- and Toph felt her skirts hike up to her thighs. She felt exhilarating, and laughed just for the heck of it. Was it night? Was it day? But she was interrupted by kissing some more and her head swam.

The night pressed on, and things were exchanged that should have never been, that could have tarnished her reputation forever.

(In the Royal Bedchambers)

Katara felt for her husband, her hands traveled all the way to the opposite edge of the bed. Nothing. "Zuko," she whispered. Silence. Had he not come back from the meeting? Perhaps she would wake Toph, and ask her where he was. Slowly she rose and after tying her long hair up, her feet met the cold floor.

The moon was full and the night was nice and warm, so unlike her home in iceland. Sometimes she missed it, just like she missed her place in the old gang, but things were better this way. Her mother's necklace had been replaced by her own wedding choker, but sometimes she still wore it when she felt lonesome. It made her feel very young again. Now there was no war, and she was loved by the most wonderful man in all the nations. Funny how she wouldn't have agreed with herself some six years ago. Katara smiled faintly.

She thought she heard something and alerted all her muscles. She listened closely but heard nothing. Talk of new threats against the crown are just scaring me, Katara thought to herself. I should just go to bed. But then a small hand clutched her robes, and she gasped. It was only her daughter, and she exhaled.

"Darling what's wrong," she said, kneeling so that she could look at into her daughters eyes. They were specked with gold, just like her father.

"Someone was calling me mommy."

Katara's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure it was just a bad dream. I'll sleep with you tonight okay?" Her arms opened themselves to scoop the little girl up.

But Qui tugged her hand out of hers and went running down the hall. Katara shook her head in wonder, sleep still floating under her eyes. That girl, she thought, she's always keeping me up. She lifted her skirts and went after her.

Qui passed through the hall of bedrooms, and passed through the courtyard as well. How her daughter moved so quickly through the night marveled her. Katara began to worry as Qui headed towards the far right end of the palace, and she quickened her pace.

She stopped. A slither of light came from within the meeting room, and her breath evened out. Strange that a candle was still lit, was someone still inside at this hour? Was Zuko in here, should she call him? Her palm lingered on the doorknob, and she turned it.

"Mama," Qui voice echoed from afar, and Katara abandoned the room. She turned around looking where Qui disappeared. The door into the prison passage way, deep under the ground was open. Where criminals were kept, where Azula was confined.

"No." Katara raced over to the open door and nearly slipped when going down the many stairs. A beady eyed rat scurried across her toes and she restrained a girlish shriek. But this was no time for childish fears to get a hold of her. Qui was no where in sight and her throat burned. "Qui," she screamed, "don't go down there!"

The prison was in gloomy stature, and no light shone through only the glow of three red lanterns. Dampness consumed, able to weaken the brightest of flames. Prisoners slouched against the bars, in their wooden cots and little seemed to notice her. A good handful of them were old Fire Nation generals and spies for Lord Ozai during the war. Their honor stripped, their pride diminished. Katara couldn't help but feel sorry for them, for the very men who killed her mother. She once hated all of them with such a ardent passion it scared her. But she couldn't now. After all, her own husband used to be one of them.

She finally saw her daughter, kneeling next to a tightly barred cell. Katara bared her teeth, and snatched her from the prisoner that had been holding her daughter's fingers.

"What's the matter," the oh so familiar voice rasped from within the metal bars, "can't I see my niece? Our meeting has been long over due." A pair of golden eyes, harder than Zuko's but similar to his peered at her. Azula.

"You stay away from her," Katara said, her voice low.

"So now I'm forced to take orders from you." Azula made a grunt that sounded more like a hiss. Her face was deathly pale in a way that made her seem unhuman. But of course, a body not touched by the sun for six years could do that to a person. A twisted foot, never healed, lay tucked just in sight of view from under her dirty pants. Katara wondered if she could even walk.

She suddenly felt a wave of weariness. "Why don't you just give up Azula? The wars been over for six years if you haven't noticed."

"What do I care about years water peasant," Azula said. "I long ago stopped counting the days. And do you honestly think that even if I surrendered, people would let the murderer of their husbands, wives, and children live among them?" She gave a dry laugh. "I'd rather go down with my pride." Shifting her bad foot, a stroke of pain crossing her face, Azula scooted closer. "So water peasant, how's the outside?"

"I'd prefer if you called me Fire Lady," Katara said coldly. Qui started to squirm in her arms.

"What? Not sister-in-law?"

"No, you're no sister of mine." She wondered if that sounded cruel, but then she remembered how she hurt Aang and tormented Zuko. "I'm going Azula. And if you dare harm my daughter, I'll-"

"Kill me? You'd do it to, you love your daughter."

"What do you know about love?"

Azula grinned, in such a way that made Katara's skin crawl. "I wonder just how much my brother loves you." She leaned back against the floor and closed her eyes. "We'll just have to see."

It'll pick up speed after the next chapter, so don't worry. Review please!