Yang awoke, baffled by the unbearable scent of incense. It was something strong and suffocating, like thousands of Earth Kingdom forests were being shoved up her nostrils. She'd never liked incense; people tended to use far too much for the sake of impressing guests or getting rid of the scent of death.
She opened her eyes slowly, ignoring the wretched smell. There was a high ceiling above her, slightly blurred by a gentle white canopy. Yang realized that she was in a very large and comfortable four-post bed made with a polished dark wood. She sat up — convulsing at a sharp pain on her side — and pressed at the mattress beneath her hands. It had to have been filled with feathers from a heavenly plane, because Yang had never been in something so cozy and comfortable in her life. She was used to an existence on bulging floor mats, not a fancy cloud.
A door opened in the farthest corner of the room. Yang noted nothing else around her, staring in alarm at the intruder ahead.
"Hello, Miss Shin," a Kyoshi Warrior greeted with a bow. Yang stared at her, fascinated by the colorful makeup masking a beautiful face. Her brown hair was short and curled slightly around her jaw. The green outfit and armor wasn't anything Yang hadn't seen before, but the small golden headdress atop the warrior's hair did keep her attention for a moment.
The woman said something more to Yang, but she missed it entirely. Yang shook her head and mumbled, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Are you feeling alright? Fire Lord Zuko wanted to speak with you, health permitting."
The Kyoshi Warrior was trying to sound formal, but it annoyed Yang. She felt like most efforts to be polite were fake anyway, and were only nice so they could later ask for a favor. Yang would rather people just be blunt and get to the point.
Then she remembered: Fire Lord Zuko. The target of an assassination. The assassination that she was supposed to fulfill. The one where she instead ended up saving his life. What had she been thinking?
"Sure," Yang replied shortly. Her mind raced, her heart pounded violently in her chest. Her forehead started to sweat a bit. She had even started breathing heavily, but didn't take note of it until the Kyoshi Warrior spoke.
"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe we should wait to have Fi—."
"I'm fine!" Yang said quickly. "I'd...I'd like to speak with him. With the Fire Lord. Please." Yang could tell that the woman was suspicious of her at that point, but she nodded and left anyway.
Yang breathed a sigh and quickly touched her hip. It stung as soon as her fingertips brushed it—even despite the protection of firm bandages and new, loose clothing. With the memory of how she had received the injury, the pain started to flare up and take over her mind. Yang did her best to fight it back and searched the room for something to fight with. This would be her last chance to redeem herself and strike the Fire Lord down.
The room consisted of one dresser-vanity, one nightstand, and several wall scrolls hung against the wall. The former two items had nothing in them except white robes and parchments of thin paper, but no pen. Even that would have been something. Yang found that the wall scrolls were hung with small nails and she considered taking those as her weapon. However, she was uncertain if the Fire Lord would note that any of the pictures were unhung.
After a moment of hesitation, she took two nails from the smallest scroll — one depicting a blue and red dragon twisting in the center of the artwork — and hid it behind the bed. She placed the nails under her pillow, then sat on the bed and waited.
The Fire Lord came in shortly after — as did the Kyoshi Warrior. She started to enter with the young man, but he held up his hand.
"Wait outside," he ordered.
"But my Lord—" the woman started to speak out.
"Please," he said, his voice a bit softer, "if she'd wanted me dead, she would've done it already."
Yang averted her gaze — but only for a moment. The Kyoshi Warrior gave her a glance, then reluctantly went to wait outside the door. Footsteps slowly approached Yang and met the man's face.
The dancer was a bit stunned to see the Fire Lord yet again. His black hair was disheveled, most of it had falling out of his crown. The eye beneath his scar seemed wary, tired, and sad, while his other eye showed an additional feature — a large black circle beneath the iris. His lips were in a strained line and blood splatters still covered parts of his cheek; Yang suspected they were from the assassin she'd killed. His robes were also tattered and torn in places, stained dark with both sweat and human's crimson . His hands were behind his back, but Yang had a sneaking suspicion that they were unclean as well. The man said absolutely nothing to her, prompting Yang to speak first.
"How...long have I been out?" It didn't seem like it had been that long; if he was still in his bloodied state, she couldn't have been unconscious for more than….
"A few hours," the Fire Lord answered. His voice was mature, but still held much youth. Yang was struck by how real it was. How human. She felt like the nails were burning a hole into her sheets nearby, but didn't dare touch them just yet.
"And the assassins?"
"Gone." Fire Lord Zuko glanced at the wall beside them — the one where the dragon scroll had been placed. He stared at it for a long time. "How are you feeling?"
Yang put her hand slightly closer to the nails while the young Lord was distracted. "Not well. Alive, but in a lot of pain." This was the truth. Yang thought that, if she was going to kill this man, she had nothing to hide.
"I'm sorry that you were caught up in this," the Fire Lord said sincerely. He looked into Yang's eyes and she was unsettled by how strong the amber irises were. "I should have been more cautious. My family was met by these guards. I didn't recognize them, but I said nothing."
Yang nodded. It was all she could think to respond with.
The man went on. "You saved my life. Why?"
The "why" had heavy implications. Yang couldn't be certain of it, but she suspected that he knew why she had a blade in her sleeve. Why the dragon scroll was missing. Why she was sitting before him with an dark, uncertain gleam in her eyes.
And yet he'd insisted on meeting with her alone?
Yang answered seriously, "I don't know. I saw him pull out his weapon and…." The woman hissed internally. Why did she save Fire Lord Zuko? Yang thought of her sister and the danger she'd put her in by failing the mission. One rusted nail would definitely kill this man, if Yang put in the right place, but something stopped her. Something more than duty or fear. It was…?
As Yang glanced over the Fire Lord, she recalled the man holding his mother's hand during the performance. She remembered now seeing his face shift from panic and concern for their safety during the fight, then relief after he found that no harm had come to them. Then there was the concern for Yang when the man caught sight of her bloody wound. It was all genuine.
"You're...not evil," she muttered softly. The Fire Lord asked her to repeat, as she'd said it too quietly. With a deep, shaky breath, Yang stated, "You are not the kind of man that should be assassinated by someone so lowly and foolish. I just did what was right."
Had she really? By saving this innocent man's life, had she truly done the right thing? Wasn't protecting Ying her destiny? Her moral duty?
The Fire Lord nodded after a long moment. Then, he muttered, "Thank you."
His appreciation struck Yang's heart, making her both pleased and depressed. "Yeah. You're welcome." She didn't sound like she meant it, and maybe she didn't. Her sudden splurge of humanity would change everything she had planned. How would she have to handle things in the future? Would her sister even be alive within the hour?
After a small, uncertain sigh, Yang took out the nails from beneath the pillow and placed them on the nightstand. The Fire Lord watched her intently. After she put the would-be weapons in plain sight, Yang scooted away from them. She gripped her hip in pain, muttering something about being stupid for getting the wound in the first place. She said nothing about the rusted items.
"So," she began after a long silence, "are you going to imprison me?"
"Why would I do that?" The Fire Lord asked. Yang rose her brow.
"You don't have to play dumb with me, your Highness. Are you going to arrest me or not?"
The Fire Lord turned towards the door, glancing at the woman over his shoulder. "As far as I know, you were just being a good citizen and helping some people in need."
Yang stared up at him in shock. "So...you're just going to let me go? You're not going to imprison me for…?"
The Fire Lord's eyes narrowed. "I didn't say you could leave. But you're not being convicted of a crime just yet."
Yang watched the man leave and then muttered towards the door, "Sounds like I'm a prisoner to me."
The Kyoshi Warrior came in a few minutes later with a small bowl of water. She placed it on the nightstand and stood expectantly before Yang.
"Your wounds," the painted woman stated shortly. Yang gave her a glare.
"I can do that myself, thank you. I don't like people touching me."
The Kyoshi Warrior shrugged as if to say, "I tried" and left the room too eagerly.
Yang glanced at the water, trying not to think too much of the past. After a long, long time, she removed her clothing and the bandages over her wound. The straight line across her hip bone was still open and bleeding slightly, though it seemed to have settled some. Yang wrung a bed sheet into a tight line and placed it in her mouth. Then, she summoned a small ball of fire and set it onto her gash. She screamed through the sheets, which only muffled her cries slightly. However, from the time she started the cauterization to the moment she finished it, no one reentered her room.
Yang slowly pulled herself to the bowl of water, taking a deep breath. She waved a hand above the water, watching as it reacted to her every movement. The water followed her fingers in a slow stream towards her wound, where it settled against the burned flesh and filled her with a tingling relief.