The War of Flames Chapter 7: She Sets With The Sun :Part 1:, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

I think the kindest way of putting this is that I push hard on what qualifies for a T rating.

This is the first of the two-part Fear Arc finale, where that somewhat expected thirty Xanatos Gambit Pileup happens. Every party has plans which are either in contention with or outright mutually exclusive of each other. So when they clash, they clash hard. Oddly, it is Long Feng's scheme which is the most resilient of all, but it's also the one which is never really explained, but somebody capable of a bit of inferrence will be able to see what he was going for. The whole reason Azula included this in her plans was because despite everything, she could not trust in the capabilities of anybody but herself to get a job done. So she decided that she had to do it herself. And that set up a lot of... fun? Is that the word I'm looking for?

To answer questions: If Azula and Katara fight, if it's during the day, Azula wins. It's much closer than any fight she'll have to deal with, usually, but she wins. If its at night, then a whole host of factors come into play. Katara 'threw a thunderstorm' at Yan Rha because she was augmented by the power of the Blood Moon, a force which synchs up, at most, twice to three times a year, if even that. So yes, she could go Fire-Nation-On-Sozin's-Comet on somebody... for eight hours a year, and she doesn't get to choose which eight. Azula's just consistently powerful. As for Azula's capacity with lightning... well, she could, but as of right now, the only way she knows how to use lightning is the way Jeong Jeong taught her. She, unlike her brother, is not terribly inventive when it comes to firebending. At least, right now, she couldn't be. Resisting bloodbending, on the other hand, is not in her repertoire, because bloodbending ignores the energy in the body, and just goes for the water. If she wanted to flash vaporise every droplet of cytoplasm in her entire body, then yes, she could escape it, if at the cost of becoming a faint pink vapor. Water is always a problem for Azula. She's not phobic about it, but it bothers her that she's dependant for survival on something which makes her bending weaker by its very presence.

And one other thing: Why does Zuko react as though Azula is still... Azula-y? Because he has no idea why she broke down. Much as Ozai did about Zuko's mother, he jerked Zuko around about his sister. I was not kidding when I mentioned in the last book that Ozai was consistently the worst human being I've ever wrote.

And from the way that Azula doesn't recall what Ozai did to her on the week of Sozin's Comet, you'd almost think there was something wrong with her mind.

Azula opened her eyes, despite having been awake for almost an hour already. After all this time cooling her heels in Betla, the time was finally here. She had spent that time doing what she did best: Planning. Ked knew the plan, since he had a part to play in it. The soldier on the other hand was left decidedly out of the loop. As soon as they reached the fortress overlooking the town, he had gone from occasionally useful to obsolete. To his credit, Chan was keeping his mouth closed about her. She hadn't expected that level of confidentiality.

Much of what she needed was being gathered elsewhere. She couldn't let anybody know what she was doing, because that would tip her hand and show those who stood at the head of this conspiracy, Long Feng and Jeong Jeong, that she was much more capable than they suspected she was. If they found out before she wanted them to, she didn't doubt for an instant that they would take steps to hobble her. She wouldn't put it past either. She paused briefly at the mirror, staring at the face she now had to live with. The resemblance she bore to her mother was still striking, but she could see her father there, as well. No time for introspection. She had a job to do.

With a few pins and some practiced twirls, she gathered her long black hair up and pinned it back in a broad bun. Then, she fed the bangs which hung beside her eyes back and pinned them through the bun as well. Her trademark hairstyle gone, she was much less distinct, recognizable. It was only the first part of her disguise, but it was the part she could take care of now. A smirk came to her face. She looked over the cosmetics on the vanity. Oh, what the hell. She picked up the red lipstick, and smoothly ran it along her lips, painting them a bright red. It had been so long since she'd been able to complete her favored appearance, bright red lips, bright golden eyes, lustrous black hair, that it almost felt like she'd been holding her breath until she could. In a way, without her lipstick, she felt naked.

She pulled out the long robe, dyed the color of blood so long dry that it had started to rot. It concealed her completely. Under this, she could be anybody. It wasn't the first time she'd hidden herself. It probably wouldn't be the last. Strangely, it felt good to be unknown, incognito. It was something she never had in childhood. She was always recognized. Always revered. Sometimes it got tiring. She opened the door, and true to his word, Ked was waiting directly outside in his white physician's coat. "The time has come."

"There's a complication," Ked said, falling in step with her. She frowned. "Long Feng wants to talk to me. About your condition. To see if you'll be capable of delivering that 'speech' he has planned."

"Oh, I'll be ready," Azula said, her tone low and poisonous. She raised a brow. "How will this interfere with the scenario?"

"Ideally, not," Ked said. "I always plan with more time than strictly necessary. It's far safer to have more time to act than having more actions than time to enact them."

"You would make a poor general," Azula said casually. "The gift of rulership is knowing that everything must take place in its proper time. Even you could stand to learn that lesson."

"My way kept us from having to come up with an entirely new plan when something went wrong," Ked said with a smirk. "You're plans are all iron and crystal. Pretty to look at, but if the slightest thing twists out of place, the whole thing shatters. I make my plans out of rope. It's ugly as hell, looks rickety beyond compare, but when something inevitably goes wrong, I can just tie a knot and move on."

"And that's why my people almost conquered yours," Azula said, taking his analogy.

"And that's why my people weren't conquered," Ked amended, with a smirk. "Luckily, I've thought of a place close at hand to where you need to be to hide until the time is right."

"Impossible. The security in the garrison is unmatched. Jeong Jeong is as properly paranoid as I am," Azula said.

"Well, there's one place where he won't be expecting somebody to be hiding. The prisons," Ked said with a grin.

"Surely you are joking," Azula said. But Ked remained insufferably smug.

"Oh, I'm quite serious. And don't call me Shr-Lee."

Ked led the way, bearing her down into the guts of the fortress, around anybody who would have a chance of recognizing her, and bore her into the prison area. It was remarkably bare, the long cells vacant. At the far end of the room were a pair of doors. Ked extracted a key from his pocket and opened it, before tossing it to her and motioning her inside. "This is the place," Ked said.

Azula entered the room. Like some of the cells in Ashfall, it was a room with a cage inside it. Chained to one corner, hand and foot, was a pathetic figure, filthy and still. "So you're brilliant plan is to have me sit in a room occupied by a man so degenerate they couldn't even bother washing him while you mingle with the manipulators? Azula asked flatly.

"First of all," the figure said, voice high but raspy, "these are tits, despite their diminutive proportion. That makes me a woman. And second, they stopped bathing me when I remembered there was nothing stopping me from biting them."

Azula stared at the filthy woman in the cell and back to Ked. "You will pay for this, Tribesman. You will pay in blood."

Chapter 7: She Sets With The Sun (Part 1)

Ked nervously pulled out his pocket watch, and scowled when all of the hands were stock still. He kept forgetting to wind the damned thing, so it was about as useful at telling time as your average coma patient. Slipping the expensive and personally useless device back into his pocket, he gave a start when his eyes drifted back up and locked with the green-eyed gaze of Long Feng. The man, according to Azula, had once been the Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se, until a series of incremental loses at the hands of the Avatar and his merry band of lackeys, with a decisive deathblow dealt by Azula herself. His head was smooth, but whether it was shaved or simply bald was anybody's guess. A faded scar reached down one cheek, moving parallel to his trailing mustaches. Two silent guards, looking exactly like the men who tried to kill him on the ferry to Betla stood behind him.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up on time," Ked said, forcing himself to be flip. Long Feng betrayed no annoyance.

"Have you delivered the Princess as requested?" Long Feng asked smoothly.

"She is showing periods of lucidity reaching into the hours," Ked lied, sticking to the story he'd developed. "When not, she is in a suggestible state, but people might mistake her acting during that time as her being drugged or something. I need more time to make her..."

"You are out of time," Long Feng said. "And you have fallen short of our agreement."

Ked made a placating motion. He had practiced this entire conversation with Azula, down to his expressed reactions, so that he wouldn't betray anything but what he wanted Long Feng to see. "That was a liberal estimate of my progress and you know it. I'm well above my worst case scenarios, and she hasn't yet reached a psychological plateau. There is still room for improvement."

"And if I do not desire improvement?" Long Feng asked.

Ked put on a suspicious look. "Well... I guess... I could... stabilize here. But why?"

"Do so," Long Feng said. "Your continued employment will see great rewards gifted to you."

Ked didn't need to act very hard to look nervous. "And my sister? You'll leave her out of this?"

"You have my word," Long Feng nodded, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. "No harm shall come to her from my hand."

And what of the thousand other hands at your disposal, Long Feng? There was an exchange of stares. Long Feng's green eyes drifted downward, to the scars on the side of Ked's neck, and the broad, hard line where Ked had had to reattach the greater part of his left hand. Ked wasn't the best judge of a person's reactions, but the earthbender seemed to display annoyance. Not that Ked had been injured. That he survived.

"And another thing. I find I'm running out of that money you offered," Ked said, acting sheepish. "There were unexpected expenses."

"You will have a new stipend when you have done work worthy of it," Long Feng said dismissively. An eyebrow raised. "Tell me, waterbender, what has become of her other guardian? That firebender?"

"I don't know and I don't really care," Ked said. Astoundingly enough, not a single one of Long Feng's questions or responses hadn't been predicted by Azula. This either meant that she was very good at what she did, or else Long Feng was just terribly predictable. Ked doubted the latter. "Is that all? I was about to have lunch."

Long Feng let out a grunt, eyes narrowing briefly. "You are hiding something from me, Tribesman. I do not know what. But know this: if it displeases me at all, the blood resulting will be on your hands."

A chill ran through Ked's body. He thought he'd done so well, too. Azula was good, but so was Long Feng. The former Grand Secretariat rose and departed without one further word, those silent killers, those Dai Li agents, turning to walk in his shadow. Ked buried his attention in a menu for a few minutes, until he was sure they were well out of eye and earshot. "Well, that was absolutely hair-raising," Ked muttered.

A hammer clattered onto the table, and a man dropped into the seat opposite Ked. "Well, it's about to get a bit more, isn't it?" the newcomer asked. A dark smile flashed under bright blue eyes. Ked's own eyes grew wide, as his mind tried to reject the notion that he could be here.

"Impossible," Ked said. Sokka Baihu's grin grew wider.

"Hello, neighbor."

Jeong Jeong hated many people. The last forty years of his life had seen him slowly rectify that vast hatred. His arrogant, foolish, insanely ambitious student was dead. His teacher unmade by 'unfortunate circumstances'. The Fire Lord undone as destiny seemed to declare inevitable. In fact, of the vast list of people that Jeong Jeong hated, most of them were dead, imprisoned, or mad. The sole exception was the current Fire Lord, but he had hopes that would soon change as well. But there was one person whom Jeong Jeong had great hatred for, one which grew every passing day, that he held no illusions as to the downfall of.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a gloomy bastard, J.J.," Irukandji laughed, eating messily of foods that were of questionable edibility... Or questionable food-ness. In the most condescending tone imaginable, he said. "Things are finally looking up for you. Everything is going to work out, just you wait."

It didn't help that Irukandji wasn't people. Spirit, demon, God? That wasn't Jeong Jeong's place to say. But there was nobody alive – debatably – who Jeong Jeong wanted to hurt more. It galled that Jeong Jeong was denied doing so. "Why are you in my room? Again?" he demanded.

"I just wanted to see the look on your face," Irukandji answered, continuing to eat one of Jeong Jeong's hats. After this long, the Firemaster didn't bother asking questions anymore about the minor habits of the abomination. "Most notably, when nose-ring and grey-skin come knocking on your door with company in about five, four, three..."

Jeong Jeong scowled, but at the unvoiced announcement of zero, there was in fact a knock at his door. Jeong Jeong opened it, and true to Irukandji's prediction, Mongke and his lackey were standing outside. The larger of the two was carrying a squirming bag. "What is this?"

"Remember how you asked me to be more proactive?" Mongke asked. He threw the bag to the ground, and it let out a womanish cry of pain. "This is me being proactive."

The lackey opened the knot, and shoved hard on the bag, spilling a bound woman in her undergarments onto the rug. Jeong Jeong didn't hide his confusion.

"That's the stuff!" Irukandji shouted, spitting felt in the process.

"You must be aware how little I enjoy repeating myself. What is this, Mongke?" the Firemaster said darkly.

The lackey pulled the gag out of the woman's mouth. She turned to Jeong Jeong, obviously the highest ranked person in the room by posture alone, and stared. Her eyes were very clear gold, not the muddy amber of the lower classes. "Please, help me! I didn't do anything wrong, I don't belong here!"

The voice she spoke with was uncannily Azula's. A sudden, dry smile came to the Firemaster's face. Her hair wasn't quite as lustrous, and her complexion was somewhat darker than the Princess', but makeup would handle that easily. Jeong Jeong dragged her to her feet by her chin, and forced her lips open. She had all of her teeth, good. A cursory examination showed no moles, freckles or blemishes which would distinguish her. Jeong Jeong gave the woman a light push so she'd fall back onto the carpet.

"You have done well," Jeong Jeong said to Mongke, who smirked. He turned back to the woman. "What is your name, girl?"

"Y-Yui," she said. For some reason, hearing Azula's voice full of fear, even when it's source was obviously not her, ignited a dark sense of joy in the old Firemaster. "I-I'm an actress from L-Lesser Ember. I have..."

"Wrong!" Jeong Jeong shouted. She flinched with a yelp. Irukandji and Mongke's sallow underling both watched her with hungry expressions. "Your name is not Yui! It stopped being Yui the instant you came through that doorway! Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, sir," she said quietly, fearfully.

"Now, you are going to do exactly what I want you to do," Jeong Jeong said. "Failure to do so will result in punishment. And I believe I have somebody willing to administer that punishment," Jeong Jeong gave a significant glance to Mongke's man, who was practically salivating at the thought. "Do you understand?" the woman nodded. "Good. From this moment forth, you will not answer to your name. You will not contact, or attempt to contact any member of your family or social circles. Any attempt to do so will result in punishment."

"I don't..." the girl whispered.

"SILENCE!" Jeong Jeong shouted. "You will be performing one role, potentially for the rest of your life. If you perform it admirably, there will be rewards. You can assume what will happen if you perform poorly."

"You'll... kill me?" she asked.

"No, stupid girl. You will be punished. Until you die," Jeong Jeong leaned down. "You are a stroke of luck for us, girl. The alternative was much more problematic. But with you, we won't be needing her at all, which means we can simply dispose of her at the first opportunity. So ready yourself for the last role you will ever play; Fire Lord Azula."

"If you will notice," Sokka said calmly, his eyes flicking between the menu in his lap and the waterbender across from him, "I have a hammer, a strong, fast arm, and a doctorate in theoretical and applied physics. Tell me, old buddy, which of those do you think makes me the most dangerous?"

Ked swallowed. He glanced down to the hammer, then back up at his countryman. He briefly considered just making a break for it, but knew that Sokka had every opportunity to kill him before he sat down, which meant he had every opportunity to kill Ked if he tried to run. "The doctorate, I guess."

Sokka looked up at him. "No, you idiot. The hammer," he said, closing the menu. "And for the specific reason that it's all I have. You know what they say about a Tribesman nothing but with a hammer."

"Every problem looks like a nail," Ked finished. The two Tribesmen stared at each other. One assessing, the other, Ked, cold and angry. "I was trying to do the right thing."

"You kidnapped my friend's sister. How is that a good thing?"

"Kidnapped? Sokka, didn't you read the other half of the note?" Ked asked, leaning forward urgently. Sokka gave an odd look, then dug blindly through his bag until he pulled out the circle of stiff paper, laying it on the table.

"There was no other half. Just you explaining that you'd taken Azula," Sokka said. Ked slowly took a spoon, then dug it into the edge of the note. It split in half, showing that it was two notes that Ked had held together with weak glue. Sokka's eyes went wide, then he grabbed up the placard, his eyes sliding down it quickly. When he reached the bottom, he took both and read the whole thing once again. When he'd finished that, he set the thing down, and rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed expression. "Oh. Well... I guess I owe your hand an apology."

Sokka was about as surprised as Ked was when the latter slammed his fist into the former's face. Of course, it hurt a lot more than Ked had ever expected: he'd never had the occasion or inclination to punch a guy in the face before. The other patrons turned to stare, and Sokka picked himself up off the floor.

"It's alright, I deserved that one," the patrons muttered amongst themselves, then turned back to their own affairs. "And that's the only reason I'm not taking the hammer and reenacting scenes from Whalesh religious history. Who was it? Who was behind this? You didn't put that down."

"I didn't know at the time," Ked said. "But I do now. His name is Long Feng. He's working with the previous reign's Firemaster to foment a rebellion and throw a coup. They intend to use Azula as a figurehead."

"I guess Long Feng really is an idiot if he thinks Azula is going to remain a figurehead," Sokka said, running fingers down his short beard.

"He doesn't know her like I do. He still thinks she's barely cogent. Even Jeong Jeong doesn't know better."

"Long Feng and Jeong Jeong," Sokka shook his head. "Didn't see that pairing coming. What's your part in this, little dude?"

"Don't call me that," Ked muttered darkly. He glared hard at the thug who'd made his early life a misery. "I'm trying to keep Azula safe."

"Like she needs that; that bitch can take care of herself," Sokka said. But then there was a pause. "Tui La, kid, is this Benell all over again? How many of my neighbors had to lose teeth before you finally figured out we weren't going to pick on her?"

"It's not like that," Ked said, heatedly.

"Oh, really? So you're telling me that you haven't made Azula your surrogate sister, and tried to..."

"I'm in love with her."

Sokka's tirade came to a screeching halt, mid word. Sokka stared at Ked for a long time. He prepared to say something, but caught himself, rubbing his chin. He tried again, to the same result. He wiped his hand over his face, taking a calming breath. He slowly took the hammer off of the table and slipped it into his bag, then leaned forward, his hands gripped white-knuckle tight on the edges of the table.

"Could you repeat that, please?"

"I'm in love with Azula," Ked said.

"Huh. I thought the crazy was just screwing with the acoustics," Sokka leaned back, pondering briefly. He cleared his throat, the most perplexed look on his face. "...How?"

"I knew from the moment I saw her that... there was something I couldn't ignore," Ked shook his head. "I'm not sure I understand it myself. I thought it was infatuation. For years, I was sure that as soon as she awoke, I would be able to just put it aside like the childish fancy it was. But when I look into her eyes, I can see that she needs somebody. Desperately. The loneliness is killing her."

"You do realize that the 'being with her' will kill you," Sokka asked.

"You don't know her."

"Oh, I think I know her fairly well," Sokka said. Sokka shook his head. "Aang made a mistake when he didn't neuter her."

Ked glared. "The only reason I didn't punch you again right now is because my hand still hurts."

"She's a manipulative demon. She's using you, bending you to her plans. Just like she always does. That woman doesn't have friends. She has puppets she can toy with at her mercy. And as you probably have noticed by now, mercy is one of those things she probably threw into a bonfire when she was five."

"Alright, now I know you're full of shit," Ked said, leaning back. "Considering your own wife visited her every other month since she was institutionalized. That sounds like something only a friend would do," Sokka sat back, staring at Ked. "She didn't tell you? I can't say I'm surprised. You did tend to be hard headed."

"What was my wife doing with Azula?"

"Talking to her," Ked said, anger giving an edge to his voice. "Brushing her hair. Trying to make her alright. I have to say, Sokka, you've certainly got a wife well outside of your league."

"She knew what I was when she married me," Sokka said.

"I'm referring to the fact that she still believes people can heal, that in the blackness a candle burns brightly and in the desert a drop of rain is a miracle. You don't deserve her. You deserve somebody as bitter and hollow as you."

Which is when Sokka punched Ked in the face. Ked had seen it coming, but his mouth had outpaced his brain, and his jaw payed the price. The patrons turned again, some of them offering tutted laughter. Most annoyingly, Sokka didn't seem to be favoring his fist at all. "Don't talk about my wife or my marriage. You haven't got that right," Sokka said coldly. He waited until Ked retook his seat. "You should count yourself lucky. Before I came here, I had a nice long talk with that wife who according to you I don't deserve. She convinced me that it might be a good idea to actually talk to you. At least it wasn't a complete waste of time."

"Why are you even after us? It can't be because of the Fire Lord," Ked asked mushily, trying to ignore the pain in his face. A fighter, Ked was not.

"My master, Piandao, he was murdered. The same day Azula escaped," Ked leaned back. "You know something, don't you?"

"I know that Jeong Jeong mentioned something about 'finding information he needed' from somebody in Azul. He's got pretty much the only airship the Blue Flame has to work with, so he could definitely make it from Azul to Grand Ember in the same day," Ked said. Sokka's eyes flashed.

"Of course. He was killing off our kind before," Sokka said. "Why should he stop now? The big question is, why him?"

Ked frowned. "Wait. Wasn't he a big patron of the mental institute reform laws Zuko pressed for?"

Sokka nodded. "He had wealth and influence over some people who were suspicious of Zuko. So yeah, he had his fingers in a lot of pots. If he wanted to, he could really have called the shots at a lot of those places. But that still doesn't explain his connection to you."

"I don't understand."

"What are you going to do about Azula?" Sokka asked.

"I want to keep her safe. I need to."

Sokka shook his head. "You do realize that this isn't your little sister. She's not interested in making friends. World domination, definitely, but friends, not a chance," Sokka said.

"I'll take that under advisement," Ked got to his feet. Sokka's eyes narrowed. "You can try to stop me, but you're in the heart of Betla, and you have no allies. Not here. If you're still blood-drunk enough to try killing me, then by all means, try. But you won't survive the deed. I'm going to protect Azula. From everybody. Even you."

"I'm not blood drunk."

"Yes you are, Sokka. And that makes you a danger to just about everybody."

"It's not me you'll need to worry about," Sokka said idly.

"I'll protect Azula from the Avatar if I need to," Ked said, only mildly aware of how arrogant and insane that sounded.

"If that's what you need to do," Sokka said. "And for the record, I'm perfectly calm. Calm as when I won that Agni Kai."

"I thought Wang Fire..."

"Wang Fire won the first Agni Kai without firebending," Sokka clarified. "I am the first non-firebender to win an Agni Kai," Ked stared at him. "Some pompous researcher at the Fire Academy didn't like it when I undercut his theory in five words and a doodle."

"These Nationals are nuts," Ked said with a head shake.

"Tell me about it."

Ked strode away, his body quivering in the anticipation of Sokka's strike. It didn't come. He strode forcefully away until he rounded a corner and slumped against a wall. His heart was hammering in his chest. He'd managed to talk his way out of certain death. That was a new experience. He looked up at the sun and realized that he was going to have to make a bit of haste. She'd already been down there, alone, with that 'Smellerbee' woman longer than he'd anticipated. He moved through the garrison at Betla, keeping his eyes down and staying out of the attentions of the soldiers pulling on that azure armor. A layman would mistake it for Water Tribe colors, but any Tribesman would know that Tribes wore soft, desaturated shades, the shades of the tides and rivers. This was a harsh, bright, and jarring blue. The blue of a fire too hot.

Ked moved past the soldiers and descended into the dungeons, quickly slipping through the door and closing it behind him. He could sense her before he saw her. Azula gave a start as he entered the room. Of course she would; it wasn't her energy in his body, it was the other way around. She raised a dark eyebrow at him.

"That didn't take long," Azula said somewhat sarcastically. Ked, instead of answering that comment, slid along the wall until he was on the bench. He wiped his hands over his face, then stared down at the table.

"That had to have been the most nerve-wracking cup of tea I've ever had in my entire life," Ked muttered.

And the rest was history.

As Azula followed Ked out of the dungeons, her disguise back in place, she had a notion, one which brought a smirk to her painted lips. "So, the hour of my destiny is at hand, Tribesman. You must be commended for being so... useful."

"I do what I can," Ked said distractedly, slowly peering around a corner. He shook his head. "So close. If they'd just get out of the damned way."

"I can think of a great many things I could offer as a reward," Azula said. All she had to do was get a measure of control again. Some leverage. Something.

"I'm sure you could, but right now probably isn't the time to think about that," Ked muttered. "Come on, you idiots. Move!"

"Oh, the things I could do for you, my loyal servant," Azula whispered into his ear. Ked turned, somewhat flabbergasted. "I reward those who serve me well. So what do you want."

"Can we talk about this some other time?" Ked asked, eyes wide and voice strangled.

"And why would I do that?"

"Well, for starters, we're kind of in the belly of the beast, here. And second, I'm pretty sure you don't like me very much, so I'm beginning to think that you've got something else in mind than–"

Azula interrupted him by sticking her tongue down his throat. He let out a sound somewhere approaching that of a dying mouse. Strangely, this was much more enjoyable than that forgettable experience on Lesser Ember six years ago. Still, she broke away, and Ked slid down the wall to the floor, his legs splayed before him. Azula stood over him.

"I... bwah... glahr..." Ked stammered. Azula, smirking with smugness, reached down and patted him on the cheek.

"That's a good boy," she said, her voice saccharine enough to come from Ty Lee. That kiss certainly had. If Azula couldn't control him through fear, then she would control him through lust. He was a young man. It would be easy. She quickly leaned around the corner, and found it vacant. "Now don't get yourself killed while I undercut Long Feng again, alright?"

Ked muttered something in his barbarian tongue as she walked away, quietly grabbing the death's-head helmet and vanishing into obscurity amongst the masses. Today would be her crowning glory. Not only was she going to be the one who emancipated her father from his imprisonment – since she was the only person she trusted could actually pull it off – the speech she would give would not exactly be what they expected. Hidden in her disguise as she moved with the other soldiers onto the boat, she did nothing to contain her triumphant smirk.

Jeong Jeong stood at the table, shooting his counterpart a glare. That he and Long Feng didn't like each other was a matter of public record. If only those fools knew how far back that hatred had started, it would blow their collective minds. The Easterner turned and pointed at the map of the capital, once called Sozin City, but renamed after some dead martyr of the last conflict.

"I still think this is a waste of time and resources," Long Feng said.

"We need to send a clear message, one which the peoples of Ember will understand," Jeong Jeong answered, glaring at his Eastern counterpart.

"What they choose to believe is of trifling importance. We should focus our efforts on toppling Zuko, not gallivanting about, searching for his predecessor."

Jeong Jeong rolled his eyes. "Ozai is a husk of a man, bereft of power in anything save for his name. He is only half the mind he assumes he is. We will use him to grant this movement legitimacy, then discard him at the first available opportunity. I have no doubt that you are planning to do much the same to his daughter?" Jeong Jeong asked.

"I see no point in casting aside a still-useful asset," Long Feng said. "She is manipulable and therefore valuable. And I will admit there is a certain level of enjoyment I derive from having that woman dance to my tune," Long Feng said. Of course, he was operating off of obsolete information. Jeong Jeong knew about Azula's true condition. She was not helpless. The daughter of Ozai never was.

"Enough of this. We must focus on the task at hand," Jeong Jeong cut in. The many eyes in the tent were wide, nobody willing to interrupt the two who were sparring verbally. Their silence betrayed their solid instinct for self-preservation. At the end of today, if everything went well, Jeong Jeong would be within a hairsbreadth of what he had been working towards for the last forty years.

"Everything is in place?" Long Feng asked. Jeong Jeong grunted with a nod.

"They will be arriving in a few hours," the Firemaster answered. Long Feng smiled, then, a cunning, brutal smile.

"Good. Send word to my agent. Unleash Trama."

Han Hua, former Secretariat of the Outer Ring of Ba Sing Se, shooed the messenger hawk and unfurled its cargo. The scroll was in the concise, clear script of his master, and laid out his orders clearly. Han smirked; not so long ago, he had been tasked with preserving this city. Now, he was finally given license to tear it to the ground. Strange what bedfellows a threat of planetary destruction could make.

Han reached over and cuffed the child standing next to him in the side of the head. It was not his preferred method, entirely too brutish and uncivilized, but it had been made clear that Trama did not respond to normal stimulus the way human beings should. "Trama. The battle is joined. Attack," Han Hua said.

Trama was a pathetic sight. Barely into the teenage years, it was hard to tell – if not completely impossible – to tell if Trama were a boy or girl. The hair was shaved short, and the features androgynous. Each eye was also a different shade of green. Han pondered if those indicated that Trama was some illegitimate offspring of King Bumi; it would certainly explain Trama's capabilities. Trama looked up at the city around him, then back up to Han Hua.

"Tear down the road. No reinforcements from the Crater," Han said. Trama's face screwed into a rictus of utter wrath, and with a high-pitched shriek, Trama lashed forward to that road, hands formed into claws, and ripped downward. Han watched as the entire wall of the Crater trembled, and the whole, mile-long switchback dissolved into cascading rocks. Han smirked. "Very good. Now, you need to..."

Trama turned and lashed out again. This time, a wave of earth smashed upward, hurling an entire building into the air and having it crash down hard somewhere else in the lower city. Trama then began to bend and obliterate, without target or restraint or sanity. Han Hua stood stock still, watching the madness as Trama ran screaming down a side street. He let out a low, annoyed sigh.

"Of course, things had to get difficult, didn't they?" Han Hua asked nobody in particular.

There was pandemonium in the palace, as the very earth that the Royal Palace stood upon was quivering. Mai stumbled, slightly, pain radiating through her body. It was a familiar pain: she'd endured it before. But never in circumstances such as these. She grabbed the arm of a soldier running past the intersection where she had stopped to catch her breath.

"Where is the Fire Lord?" she demanded. The soldier stopped, recognized her, then bowed. Mai rolled her grey eyes. "I don't have time for this. Where is my husband?"

"Nobody's sure," the soldier said. "The attackers are everywhere."

"Then send somebody to find him," Mai said darkly. She released the infantryman and leaned against the wall, her vision unfocusing for a moment as a wave of pain coursed through her. "Of all the times I could have picked to give birth," she muttered.

There was a stomping that approached, the heavy feet and clawed talons of Chong Sheng announcing her presence long before she appeared. In truth, nobody knew what gender the dragon was, and nobody had the courage to check. Mai noted that it acted more the protective mother than the territorial bull, so thought of it as a female. The great beast pulled its serpentine body through the halls, reaching forward with one whisker which it laid onto her arm.

Fear. The blue ones cause harm. Must keep the she safe.

Dragons did not communicate in any true language, however, they were intelligent beings, and had other means. They could implant thoughts, if thoughts which were in odd context and took some mental legwork to understand. She focused her mind on a single image, the broad scar across the left eye. And she sent out her own question, loudly in her mind. Where? The dragon recoiled for a moment, then touched her again.

A forest of stone, hard black soil. Flames, the ceiling.

The throne room. What was he doing there?

"Go and protect him," Mai said. "I can look after myself."

A lie, in her condition. Azuli women were only ever unarmed in three instances; if they were bathing, so that they wouldn't ruin their weapons; when they were romantically engaged, so as to prevent accidents; and in the last weeks of pregnancy, so that when they gave birth, they would not have the means to stab somebody. That last proviso, it was said, was a later entry, only included after a rash of bedside-stabbings. Chong Sheng looked at her with a level of disbelief that was evident even on a dragon, but she glared, and it turned, heading down another passage.

"I will not have my children grow up without a father," Mai said grimly.

Azula reveled.

The fight up the mountainside would have been utter suicide with the Crater Road demolished, but since that wasn't where the bulk of the forces were headed, it didn't slow them down at all. The only real thing which Azula didn't like about being in disguise was that she had to actively reduce her firebending; her blue flames, the pinnacle of firebending power the likes of which was only seen twice in a thousand years, would give her away in a heartbeat. When there were only two people who could do such a thing, and one of them was the Fire Lord, it was bound to raise questions.

The trip to the mainland had been cramped, stinking, and surrounded by the lowest class of people. But still, the payoff, to be able to fight again, it was worth any price. Azula always knew that she wasn't destined for a life of courtiership, of making deals and working diplomacy. Ever since she was a child, she had been drawn to the flame, and drawn to the fight. Azula was a warrior, and nothing would change that. Not destiny nor prophecy nor conspiracy. Contrary even to her own memories, her mother supported her in this; to find her own destiny, not at the point of a pen, but at the point of a blade.

Azula advanced with the men and women who wore that blue armor, advancing in the name of Jeong Jeong, 'Azula', and the former Fire Lord. Even the closest soldier to her was far enough away that she had some room to breathe; firebenders did not group together. There was no need to. And since the armor of her opponents allowed her ample opportunity to let loose without too much worry about killing them, Azula got to vent all of her frustration and anger that she had been building up for the last few weeks.

There wasn't quite as much as she expected.

Ashfall was coming close. She could see its hunkered mass against the collapsed wall of a dormant volcano. She would have to pick up the pace if she was going to get there first, and she definitely had to be there first. The soldiers on this path were surprised to see her, at the vanguard of the force. In her disguise, she looked like just any soldier, but when the first red-armored form lashed forth in a bolt of red flame, she disabused him harshly. Her own flame, a stream shifting between yellow and green, blasted through his attack and smashed him away. He landed roughly, which brought an inward wince to her, despite herself. He was still moving, though, if removed from the fight. Not dead. Good. A smirk on her face, she advanced toward Ashfall.

Ty Lee stood at the edge of what used to be the Crater Road, before it had dissolved into rubble. She stared down at the carnage taking place in the city with a sinking heart. This couldn't be happening. She simply couldn't be watching as her second home was being smashed to the ground in waves of rolling rock. She bounded into the air, snapping open her glider and soaring down at the epicenter of those shocks which sowed destruction everywhere they went.

She landed amidst rubble, fires, and screaming. She knew that she couldn't do everything, that if she tried to divide herself too far, to attend every person trapped or hurt, then the only thing that would come of it was more destruction. She had a particular set of skills and a role she knew she had to embrace; she had to stop the one who was causing this damage.

"If I were an earthbender, where would I hide?" Ty Lee asked herself. An utterly ridiculous question, since she was about as much an earthbender as her husband was a firebender, but she knew she had to find whoever was doing this, and soon. She began to bound from pile of rubble to pile of rubble, only slightly depending on her airbending; she had been an acrobat long before she ever started airbending. Although, it was tough to say if one was not the result of the other, and which direction it went was anybody's guess.

She came upon the bleeding edge of that destruction by accident, almost leaping into a building before checking herself and dropping to the ground. She looked around, wishing that she had Mai's keen eyes to help her. As it was, she could only see that the destruction ended here, but not why, or how. She began to hear weeping, a child crying. And no amount of hardening of the heart – a skill at which Ty Lee was remarkably poor – would see her ignore that call. She moved quietly and gently toward its source, a filthy child with short hair, curled up on the street. She snapped her glider shut, so as to keep it out of the way, and leaned down to the child.

"Are you alright, little boy?" Ty Lee asked. The child didn't turn to her. She moved around, and wondered if she'd gotten the gender right. It could have been either. "We should get you out of here. It's too dangerous to be out here right now.

The boy/girl recoiled from Ty Lee's touch, the sobbing quieting for a moment, the mismatched green eyes staring at nothing. Ty Lee glanced around, then tried to see what had upset the child so. It could be just about anything. On a hunch, she took a look at the child's aura, to see if it was fear, pain, or loss.

It was nothing.

The child had no aura. Ty Lee took a step back, her brown eyes growing wide. Only two kinds of people didn't have auras. The dead had no auras as they had no souls. The mad had no auras as they had very little left in the way of minds. The child was insane.

"Kill the woman," a voice said in Tianxia from somewhere nearby. The child erupted to its feet with a feral roar, the sound coming from its throat not even remotely human, as it thrust its fists toward Ty Lee. And it seemed the entire neighborhood launched with it.

"...oh no," Ty Lee said quietly, as the stone began to launch toward her.

Ozai sat, as he had for six years, in the cage, waiting for the end. For all Zuko's lofty promises, it had amounted to nothing more than a protracted incarceration. If the boy had any stomach whatsoever, he would have had Ozai publicly executed, the way a real man deals with his enemies, not hidden in the background like a shameful secret. Although, considering some of the particulars about Zuko's birth and raising, it would come as no surprise that the boy still considered Ozai a dark secret.

Much of Ozai's physique had left him during that long sentence. He wasn't the impressive physical specimen that he was before. But he was still always ready. Just because he couldn't firebend – and damn the Avatar for ten thousand generations for that blasphemy – didn't mean that he was utterly helpless. He still had his body, his mind, and his name. And he had a plan. Admittedly, a plan that was essentially worthless while Ozai was behind bars, but that would not always be the case, and when he was free, oh, how Zuko's world would burn.

Ozai's attention perked out of delicious thoughts of infanticide when he heard the thump of flame, and a cry of pain, a clattering of a body to the floor. More cries, these ones of alarm, and more flares of fire, more thumps. Something was coming. Ozai got to his feet. Whatever it was, he would face it like a man, not a sniveling coward. There was a clattering at the door, and a momentary profanity, before a bright flare of fire erupted inside the lock to the outer door of Ozai's cell, and the door swung open. There was somebody standing at the threshold, looking like an Imperial firebender, but the armor was electric blue instead of red. Ozai scowled.

"Aren't you a bit short to be a guard?" he mocked. The soldier tensed its hands briefly, before taking a few steps closer.

"I'm surprised you don't recognize me," the soldier said, tone singsong. Ozai's expression became one of shock. The soldier removed her helmet, and showed her face. A smirk pulled at painted lips. "In case you forgot, Father, my name is Azula, and I'm here to rescue you."

Ozai stared at her for a moment, having gotten over his initial confusion. "You are late," Ozai said harshly. "I expect better of you."

"The only reason we are speaking at all is because I welded the doors shut behind me. To give me a bit of... time," Azula said. "The soldiers do not know that I am here. You will be sure that continues. You will not mention to anybody of my presence. You will go with the soldiers to the boat and head for Betla without comment, is that clear?"

"And when did you get the idea that you would be able to command your father?" Ozai asked angrily.

"When you ended up inside an iron cell, and I ended up outside it," she answered. She took a step forward, igniting a lancet of that glorious blue flame from her fingers and sheering through the lock to the inner cell. The door swung open easily. "Dress yourself. We are leaving."

Ozai stared at his daughter briefly. So much like her mother. The very notion made him a little bit sick. She pulled her helm back over her head and pulled the cloak off of one of the incapacitated guards. He scowled in contempt. She didn't even have the guts to kill them. What a worthless child. He had made it only half way down the corridor when the door at the far end finally burst open, and a number of other soldiers in that electric blue armor flowed into the room. They moved toward Ozai, fists raised, but Azula intercepted them.

"The Phoenix King has been released," she said, only barely disguising her voice. She could do so much better. The soldiers took her word at face value and moved to surround Ozai. Finally, he thought with a smirk. A proper escort. He had missed the pomp of his rank in the last six years. That, and the willing, or not so willing, women which were a quiet perk of it. In one of the outer chambers, the firebenders and soldiers were milling around a side room, which caught Azula's attention. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You've secured Ozai?" came the answer. "Good. Now we can move on to the primary targets."

"I was not informed about any targets other than the previous Fire Lord," Azula said suspiciously. Ozai kept walking, leaving her behind.

"He is a secondary objective. The reason we're here is to infiltrate the Royal Palace and kill the royal family. We're told there's a direct path from here to the bunker under the Palace."

"Kill the royal family?" Azula asked. Azula gave Ozai a glance. Ozai rolled his eyes. Remember your place, girl! But to his great disappointment, she failed him yet again. She snapped a command to bring Ozai to the ships, and she turned down that side passage. Vengeance clouding her vision yet again. She was a perpetual failure. But she was a useful one.

Mai was running. She knew she shouldn't have been running in her condition. Her water was broken and she was giving birth, but she couldn't stop. Not now. Not until all the people she cared about were safe. She powered through another painful contraction, hating once again that she had, by her custom, given aside her weaponry for this day. She was not alone in the halls. People in blue armor were sowing destruction in their wake.

"And I just spent all that time and effort redecorating," Mai said dryly, standing with her back to a wall, glancing around a corner. Of course they would burn the silk hangings. She moved silently and quickly, although without nearly the speed she was once capable of, across that hallway, leaving the three to their pillage. There wasn't much she could do about it.

The throne room was not far, but she could already see the telltale signs of battle. Charred blue armor, corpses within, lay on the black floors, their blood slick but invisible. The howling roars of Chong Sheng echoed through the Palace. She doubted anybody would be named Dragon today, but it was hard going, and the loyal beast would have done her great service. She tried to get more speed, but her legs betrayed her, and her uterus as well. A stabbing of pain shot through her, like she'd been knifed in the belly. Just a contraction, but they were very close together, now. She knew what was coming next.

"Not yet," Mai hissed, trying to pull herself to her feet, to ignore the fact that she was giving birth. She heard footfalls behind her, and a glance confirmed her fears. Two of those three had come, and were looking down at her with grins of murder on their faces. "Let me guess? You're not here to play midwife?"

"We're here for your head, whore," the soldier said. It pulled a sword with a wicked, inward curve, and advanced toward her. Mai pulled herself to her feet. Even if she couldn't beat him, she would not die like a coward. She would die as an Azuli.

Still, it was a pleasant surprise when it was not she who was doing the dying. A knife shot past Mai's shoulder and struck him squarely between the eyes. The blade was embedded, but not deeper than needed to make his eyes widen in horror. It was the next knife, which sunk into his then-exposed neck that made the man topple. The other raced forward, surging through a basic firebending Kata. But before the fire surged away from his fists, a young woman ran past Mai and hurled a vase which was probably five hundred years old at the least into his face. It smashed into his face, pulping it somewhat, and miraculously, didn't brake when it hit the stone floors. The woman turned around, and grey eyes met grey eyes.

"That was timely," Mai said.

"Of course. He wasn't playing midwife, but I am," she said.

Mai showed a small smile for her attendant. Zuko, panicky dork that he was, assigned Mai an attendant each of the three times she'd been pregnant. This time, she beat him to the punch and selected an Azuli girl heading through medical school in the Fire Academy. "Where is my husband, Onji?" she asked. Of course, just then, another twist of pain in her nethers. This was becoming unbearable.

"Come with me," Onji said, helping Mai limp into the Burning Throne. More corpses, most wearing the electric blue armor. Some weren't, though. One figure was apart from that mass, the phoenix flare lopsided on his head, his robes singed and torn. Zuko. He was still alive. And he was holding the inconsolably weeping Yuuki.

Zuko lit up the instant Mai came into his line of sight. "Mai! You're alright! I was panicking..."

"Now," Mai said, the pain dragging her voice away from its cool detachment and into something approaching worry. Zuko's eyes widened. Mai looked around. "Where's Kimiko?"

"I thought she was with you!"

Mai turned, to hunt their young daughter down herself, but this time, the pain drove Mai to her knees with a cry. "She's still out there," Mai wheezed.

"No..." Zuko said. His gaze slowly became hard and harsh. He carefully pushed Yuuki to arm's length. "You're going to have to stay here with Mama. You can do that, right?"

"I'm scared," Yuuki said through tears.

"So am I, penguin, so am I," he said. Pet names, of course. Zuko took his elder daughter to Mai's side, as she was lowered to the ground behind the burning throne. There was no way in save through the open doors, and that was a killing floor. Zuko panickedly planted a kiss on Mai's sweat-covered brow. "I'll be back soon, Mai. I want to see my third child."

"I'm not going anywhaaaaaagh!" Mai cut off with a pant. Her attendant moved in as Zuko began to sprint away. "How is it?"

"You're giving birth," Onji noted sarcastically.

"You've done this before, right?" Mai asked, her breathing fast and hard.

"...Do you really want the truth?"

Katara danced through the carnage, her waterbending slamming people with blue armor aside like leaves in the gale of a storm. In her years as a grandmaster waterbender, she had learned that while there were many styles employing much more skill, poise, and precision than her own, the South Style, as she taught it, was the most powerful. It didn't use precision. It used power. I didn't demand poise, it used brutality. And what skill it employed stood so opposite the aesthetically pleasing forms of the North that it was once called by its detractors as 'more brutish streetfighting than waterbending'.

And Katara smiled as she showed what streetfighting was good for. She spun through the men who tried to rush and overwhelm her, her wave of water slamming and tripping and bullrushing those who went against her. From the corner of her eye, she saw one readying a bow. She reached out with one hand, feeling the water inside his body. She squeezed, and he let out a scream of unmatched agony, dropping to the floor as his skin cracked and started to bleed. It wasn't lethal, but it was extremely painful. It was like bloodbending, but not. That, she reserved for the one whom she could feel taking a run at her with a sword. With her other hand, she made a back handing motion, and every droplet of moisture in his body obeyed, dashing him against a wall. The throneroom was near. That was where she heard they had been seen. But there was a force that had burst those doors, milling its way up the floor, pressing back the meager defenses. They would be overwhelmed soon.

Not if she had anything to say about it.

"Let's see Hama top this," Katara said viciously, abandoning the free water she had ringing around her. She reached high, at their unwary backs, and her fingers crooked as though tugging at strings. She was the greatest waterbender in the world. There were almost twenty men and women ahead of her. So much water. She tore her hands down, and screams of pain and discomfort joined, as those people were dragged down to their knees.

The soldiers stared at her, stunned, while Katara smiled, the kind of smile her brother sometimes showed, but not quite. It wasn't quite blood drunk. But it was reveling in the power, unleashed. "What's happening?" Mai's agonized voice came from behind the throne. The survivors in short order had the enemy truncheoned down, allowing her to release the bloodbending and move to Mai's side. To the Fire Lady's other side was her elder daughter, her face buried in Mai's shoulder, shivering slightly. Yuuki was a delicate girl, this had to be taxing for her. Mai didn't look so great, but then again, Katara hadn't spent much time around people giving birth in the last few years, so she wasn't the best judge. "Are you alright?"

"I'm giving birth, do you think I'm alright?" Mai said sarcastically, before letting out a long hiss of pain. "Gods, the last two weren't like this."

"You weren't in the middle of a fight," the attendant said from 'twixt Mai's legs. "I can see the crown. It'll be here soon."

Katara and Mai shared a glance. An understanding passed between them. No harm would come to that child. With her brow drawn down, she took her place in the center of that room. None would pass, save over her corpse.

Zuko was still screaming, trying to find his child. It was a dumb thing to do, with soldiers crawling the palace, looking to murder him. Dumb as a dictator. But exactly what a father should. He smashed open doors, quickly checking those tight places Kimiko would have hidden herself. If she would have hidden herself. A horrifying image had come into Zuko's head the instant he heard she was missing, that she had tried to fight them. The terror that he would find her little body broken and lifeless, it spurred him on into a desperate madness.

So much so that he didn't expect when a fist rounded corner and caught him right in the temple. Zuko was lifted from his feet and thrown down the hall, skidding to a stop. Zuko felt nauseous from the force of that hit, and it took him a long moment to get his bearings, and even longer to start trying to get to his feet. And the man who punched him was not alone.

One was a giant of a man, cracking sunken knuckles as he advanced. He said something to his companions which Zuko didn't catch, and laughed. The others began to spread out, encircling him, fists out at the ready. Firebenders. Ordinarily, Zuko would have been able to take them all without so much as a glance. Now, though, he'd just taken a head wound. It was hard to focus. It was hard to stand up straight.

One of them began to leap forward, but changed direction mid air, his eyes growing wide, before he was blasted down the hall at remarkable speed, not hitting the floor until after slamming into the far wall. Zuko had only started his attack when a streak in discolored bright yellow shot past him, kicking a shining steel staff into the face of another before landing a pair of swift jabs into the chest and side of another. Both curled up like burnt caterpillars, one from a bow to the head, the other from the crippling Dim Mak strikes.

Oddly, the thing which stuck out most to Zuko was that Ty Lee was not smiling.

She caught her staff as it bounced back to her, twisting it in half and using it to block and dodge around the giant, while Zuko very carefully, very deliberately formed his sloppy attack into a blast of force, its shockwave hurling the last assailant through a door into a linen cupboard. Zuko turned, to try to give aid to the shockingly fast airbender, but she had things well in hand, circling the giant on a ball of solid air, striking his away from punishing blows, as she waited for her moment. He expected it to end with her delivering one last flurry of blows with her bisected staff, but instead, she moved away, then made a yanking motion, like hurling a heavy sack over her shoulder.

A puff of white vapor came out of the giant's throat, and he fell to his knees, clutching at his throat. She held, as his eyes went wide, a hand extended toward her, that white vapor just ahead of his face. He slumped forward onto the ground, his eyes rolling back. Only then, did Ty Lee release whatever it was she'd done.

"What did you...?" Zuko asked, starting to get some clarity returning to his head. Ty Lee turned to him. Her clothes were discolored, it turned out, because she had a bad gash on her scalp and she was bleeding onto them.

"I took his breath away," she said with a bright grin. "Don't worry, I gave it back before it did any lasting harm."

Zuko stared at her. "Remind me not to anger you."

"Oh, like you even could," Ty Lee said, giving Zuko a very brief, if very tight, hug, before grabbing his hand. "Come on, Mai's filled me in. We have to find Kimi!"

Azula came to a stop at the circle of people, all tightly packed. She elbowed her way through them, and saw at their heart, its source. A grey eyed young boy, maybe nine years old at the most. He was holding a long knife, running red, and one of the soldiers was still on the ground. Clinging tight to his back was a girl no older than three; a girl, screaming at them with all the gusto of a child who hadn't yet learned to swear.

"Talk about your lucky breaks," one of the men said. "The Fire Lord's daughter and the Fire Lady's brother at the same time."

"They'll make excellent hostages," Azula agreed. The man turned back to her.

"Hostages? Shit, no. Orders are to kill on sight."

Azula glared at him from inside her helmet. "They are children."

"Not mine. Not my problem," he pulled out a short axe and took a step toward the boy, who spun to confront the soldier. There was no way. The knife wouldn't reach. Tahm-Tahm. So this was what Tahm-Tahm had become. Brave. Defending on his feet 'till the end. A true Azuli. Azula felt that heat lick at her soul again. Rage. No, this went so far beyond rage and wrath that she emerged on the other side. To kill one's enemies... that was one thing. But children?

She grasped the soldier on the shoulder and spun him, driving her other fist into his chestplate, and as she did, she detonated the air between them. It drove her back a step, but it punched him straight through a wall. She twisted with an arc, not bothering to curtail herself in any way. Blue flame seared from her heel, knocking one side of the grisly audience away, before she launched a fire blast which sent one, flying and smoldering, down the hall to an intersection a not inconsiderable distance away. Those not knocked down bowled past the children, knocking Tahm-Tahm aside and swinging a blow at her legs. She punched out, another blast sending him flying, but her restrictive helmet blinded her to another blow coming from behind, which dazed her for a moment, and sent her helmet rolling to the floor, a dent in its side.

When those assembled saw what they were doing, she liked to think that they wet themselves in panic. With a roar of what some would call righteous anger, she bent and fought, moving in a tight circle over the two children, her attacks deflecting what fire came their way and responding with overwhelming power. For just a few sweet seconds, as she fought that admittedly one sided battle, outnumbered though she was, she felt something... something she didn't know how to classify.

"This is right," Ursa's voice said quietly. "This is good."

"Not now, Mother!" Azula shouted, before delivering one last rippling shockwave, which leveled the few remaining attempted-child-murderers and sent them sliding down the hall. And at the end of that hall, standing in comfusion and awe... were her brother, and Ty Lee.

Zuko stared at her. Ty Lee stared at her. Azula stared back. There was a good distance between them. The two children were huddling close to her, their unexpected savior. She looked at them. The girl. She was exactly what Azula would have predicted in offspring between Zuko and Mai. As the soldier had said, their daughter. Right at Azula's feet. And Azula had saved her life. Why had she done that? It was politically expedient to remove all – no. No, it wasn't. She interrupted that thought even as she was having it. Even if it made sense to remove the children, that was blood she would not have on her hands. It wasn't right. She might not have been much of a judge of right and wrong – especially since her father had drilled it into her head over and over that there was no such thing as either – but she knew that it was wrong. She looked back up at the two at the end of the hall. They were waiting. Staring at her and waiting, no doubt in fear of what she would do. Fitting. She was a monster, after all. But even monsters have standards. Azula reached down and grabbed her helmet.

"Go to your father, little girl," Azula said. The girl looked up at Azula, then quickly hugged her leg, before running toward Zuko. Tahm-Tahm didn't even waste so much time. She slipped on her helmet, and then started running. Oddly, the two didn't follow her. It didn't matter. She had fulfilled her objective. Ozai was free. Now, she had a rendezvous to make.

Long Feng's teeth were so tight that they might well shatter at any moment. He glared at his opposite, the man who he had layers of plans set in place to kill at the proper opportunity. Jeong Jeong glared back, dark golden eyes locking with green. "What do you mean, you cannot find the Princess?" Long Feng asked. And Jeong Jeong looked just as furious as he.

Ty Lee looked... conflicted as Azula had run away. Like she wanted to run after her, but with a sound which ought never come out of Ty Lee's mouth, a growl, she turned and dragged the children and the Fire Lord back to the Royal Palace. The attack was dying down as quickly as it had started. People were dead. Mostly theirs. Some were captured. Entirely theirs. Zuko still felt a little unsteady on his feet. He was going to have to see a doctor about that blow he'd taken. The halls leading to the Burning Throne had been cleared, not by mortal efforts, but by a large, angry dragon bodily shoving anything it didn't want nearby out of its path. Chong Sheng let out a sound which, though bestial, sounded with both relief and joy. It reached out a whisker, and Zuko felt its thoughts course into him.

Little Father safe, joy. His she inside, safe. Blue men gone. Tasty.

"Well, try not to make a habit of it," Zuko said, walking past the new and old national animal of the Fire Nation. It lifted up the coil of its body that had blocked the door, letting Ty Lee, Zuko, and the children duck under. Ty Lee looked up, questioning. "You don't want to know."

"Is she alright?" Ty Lee asked.

"Yeah," Zuko said. He finally had a moment to think, running a hand along Kimi's hair, he finally turned to the airbender. "What happened to you, anyway? You don't look so good."

"I got into a fight with an earthbender," Ty Lee said. "A really really strong one."

"So?"

"S/he got away. Well, s/he stopped fighting after s/he dropped a building on me," she said with surprising chirpiness, considering what she'd said. Katara, looking the best off of anybody in the room, shot the four new arrivals a smile, and nodded toward the back of the room. "I've had worse."

Zuko shot her a baffled look. It was about then that he realized that there was relative quiet in the room. Assuming the worst, since that's how Zuko's luck tended to run, he quickly broke away from the children and ran to the back of the throne. He dropped to his knees, seeing Mai on her back, propped up against one of the pillars for the throne. She was smiling down at a little person, who was flailing about its tiny arms, letting out low, but steady cries. She looked up at him, a genuine, warm smile on her sweat-covered face.

"It's a boy," she said. Zuko's face pulled into a grin, and he held his wife close. And a second later, exactly as Zuko predicted, Ty Lee joined them, with a joyous squee.

Ked didn't like the way that people were moving around Betla. Yesterday, the force had shipped out to the mainland of the West Continent, and by now they would be en route to their return, but at some point, a quiet, subtle alarm had been raised. Nobody would admit to anything, but they were scouring the fortress on the island from top to bottom, and then extending their gaze to the outlying regions, to the caves and the small township at the cove. The Tribesman had a faint idea what this was about, and it concerned him.

"They're looking for her, aren't they?" Sokka's voice startled Ked so completely that he walked into a wall. Sokka's braying laughter sounded as Ked pulled himself back to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Ked asked.

"Saw a ruckus, thought I might get involved," Sokka said easily, sitting in a window sill overlooking a courtyard. In the sky, the full moon was just beginning to rise against the sun edging below the horizon. "Man, coming back here brings back memories."

"I'm sure it does. If anybody sees you here, they're going to kill you," Ked pointed out.

"They can try."

"What do you really want, Sokka? We're dancing on a knife's edge as it is."

Sokka got a pensive look. "I've given some thought to that little talk we had. You must realize I'm not my sister. When she gets an opinion, there's pretty much nothing on this planet that'll shake it. Ironic she's the paragon of water, then. Me? I'm a bit more mutable. What are you trying to do to Azula?"

"Do to? I'm just trying to get her healthy," Ked said. "I'm beginning to think that you never knew her when she was in her right mind. Something happened to that woman when she was very young, and I know she's strong enough to move past it."

"You put a lot of faith in that woman," Sokka said. "You'd better hope you're not just seeing what she wants you to see. She's very good at manipulating people, Ked. She didn't take over Ba Sing Se by arm-wrestling Long Feng into submission."

Ked didn't have a response for that. He only had his gut, and his gut told him that Azula had more to her than anger and fear. Ked glanced down, then back to Sokka. "She deserves better than what she's gotten. Something happened to her and it hurt her badly. I just want her to be alright. Is that so much to ask?"

"Considering its target?" Sokka asked. He shrugged. "Fine. If you're going to pursue this, then by all means, and don't say I didn't warn you," his easy smile faded. "But for the record, I'm going to have my eye on you. If you can get her to be less of a raging bitch, then all power to you. But if she takes one step backwards, acts one foot out of line; if she shows any sign of being that psychopath who murdered the Avatar over Ba Sing Se, I promise you, you won't need to worry about her mental health anymore. Are we clear?"

Ked glared at his countryman, before turning and walking away. He didn't wonder how Sokka had got there, and he didn't wonder how he'd get away. That was somebody else's problem. Briefly, he wandered the fortress, his mind grinding some dark, worried thoughts. As he passed another window a short while later, he caught himself short. Below, coming up the path, was a column of soldiers, and a dark haired man in a red cloak at their heart. The column was singing war hymns loudly, almost enough that Ked could understand them at that great distance, but not quite. So the task-force had returned. He wondered which amongst them was Azula.

This was a bad plan. He just knew it.

Ked moved down into the courtyard, which was already playing host to the two masterminds of the conspiracy, as well as Jeong Jeong's hired goons. The column flared out, acting the honor guard for Ozai, who stood tall and proud. Suddenly, Ked could feel Azula's presence again, standing somewhere nearby.

Ozai looked the two men up and down, disregarding Long Feng almost instantly. "So, my loyal Firemaster, we meet again at long last," Ozai said, his voice low.

"Indeed," Jeong Jeong answered. "The plans to release you hit some unexpected snags. But as you can see, everything followed according to the scenario at the end."

"Spare me your prattle, Jeong Jeong," Ozai said. Long Feng gave a glance to some place which didn't seem to be occupied, but Ked could assume better. "I have been out of the world a long time. I intend to retake my place."

"Would that you could," Long Feng interrupted. Ozai's gaze swung to him, burning hot as though to make up for the fact that he was no utterly incapable of firebending. "Unfortunately, when you were made prisoner, it was a the behest of the Avatar. Only the Fire Lord could grant pardon and restitution for that."

Ked pondered that briefly. Oh, it was clever. Leaving Ozai effectively worthless, while desperate, since he could have no authority save if the Fire Lord gave it to him. A cruel and cunning strategy, but what was its ends? Ked was about to ponder more, when one soldier with a dented helm stripped it off, revealing a wave of lustrous black hair and a pair of blazing gold eyes, almost identical to Ozai's.

"How fortunate then, that one is available," Azula said haughtily. Ked's eyes grew wide. What was she doing?

"Princess, this is..." Jeong Jeong began, but Ozai silenced him with a wave of his hand. Old habits died hard, it would seem.

"I want to hear this," Ozai said. Azula smirked. It was the smirk of the victorious, the champion. "Please, continue, my darling daughter."

"Six years ago you were unjustly cast down by the Avatar at what should have been the Fire Nation's moment of glory and victory," Azula said loudly, letting her voice carry through the courtyard. "He emptied the seat of the Phoenix King and had his lackeys install an incompetent, soft-hearted lackwit in the place of your chosen successor," her, of course. "He acted out of turn, having no authority in matters of internal national politics, and in doing so, inauthorized his claims of adhering to any form of jurisprudence. He overreached himself, and acted as a petty, nepotistic tyrant. And this will be remedied."

Ozai grinned. "Go on, Azula."

Long Feng seemed to positively seethe as she took her place in front of her father. "As the chosen successor of Fire Lord Ozai, I have all of the rights and responsibilities levied by that position. With that authority, I rescind the sentence of life imprisonment lowered upon the former Fire Lord Ozai by the false Fire Lord Zuko."

"Excellent," Ozai said. He turned, his arms opening, as he prepared to speak, but Azula's smirk dissolved into cold anger.

"However," she interrupted. He glanced over his shoulder to her. "I have done nothing but remove a punishment not truly earned nor properly punished. Your actions leading up to and resulting from your being cast down are not beyond consideration. Your doctrine of Burnt Earth was foolhardy and reckless; your policies of testing chemical weapons against Embiar civilians was beyond the pale. As Fire Lord, I declare you a War Criminal, who's incompetence nearly brought our nation to the point of ruin. Thus, I declare you banished and exiled from this Fire Nation for the remainder of your life."

Ozai's jaw set tight, and his eyes seemed to be bugging out of his head.

"I once respected your ability to lead, but you have fallen far short of those lessons which you had taught. If you cannot heed your own direction, then you are a false prophet, as well as a failure as Fire Lord. You will leave the West Continent, and any lands associated with it, by the first craft willing to bear your dishonorable presence. Any return will be punished by immediate execution," Azula smiled then, a cherubic, sweet smile, and she leaned to Ozai's side. In whispered Tianxia, pitched barely high enough for Ked to hear, she added. "It's just politics, Father. Nothing personal."

Ozai ground his teeth, staring down at his daughter for a long minute. Then, with a look of barely controlled wrath on his features, he muttered. "Well played."

"Please, you barely even remember the rules," Azula said snidely. She turned to Jeong Jeong and Long Feng with a smirk. In one glorious moment, she had shown them her true nature, that like an ideal gas, she would not be restrained, but expand to fill whatever space contained her. "If today's business has concluded, I intend to have a bath. The presence of uncouth soldiers has left a sense of grime about me that I simply must purge."

She walked away, Ked watching her leave. After she cleared about ten paces from him, that sensation of her vanished again. He looked back to Long Feng and Jeong Jeong. They shared a glare, as Ozai clenched his fists in impotent fury at the center of the courtyard. After that long moment of silence between the two men who had sought so hard to control the princess, only to see it spin apart at the worst possible moment, Jeong Jeong nodded, and turned to his thugs. He nodded to the big one with the piercings, who in turn nodded to his underlings before vanishing from the crowd.

In Ked's very soul, he could feel a countdown to catastrophe. He just didn't know where it would land.

Chan rubbed his head, trying to ward off the headache he knew was coming. Every time he got really angry, which wasn't as often as a firebender usually did, his teeth started to grind. When they did that long enough, a blinding pain would work its way behind his eyes, and he'd be useless until it went away. The source of his anger? They'd left him behind. Again. Every time there was the slimmest chance for glory or advancement, he'd get undercut and marginalized. And it drove him up the godsdamned wall.

Of course, it wasn't just the fact that he'd gotten shoved to the sidelines yet again that had him seething. The barbarian was getting entirely too close to the Fire Lord, and that just wasn't right. He'd tried to confront the Tribesman about his behavior, and the damage he could do to her reputation if people assumed the wrong thing. But the Tribesman was nowhere to be found.

Betla was almost empty. Between the garrison relocating to Grand Ember and the much smaller task force returning from the mission to free Ozai from his wrongful imprisonment, there was only a token force in this place. It wasn't a small token, of course; there were still more than a hundred souls here. Chan knew that if this place were attacked right now, it'd fall in a heartbeat. Luckily, nobody knew to attack it. He kept walking the halls, hoping to find something to ease the headache, or calm him down, or something. There were a few unrecognized faces in the garrison. That struck Chan as odd; most of the people at Betla Chan had served with before. After all, most of them were there, just in that courtyard inside the outer wall, when Chan got his nuts kicked by Wang Fire.

One of them, a sallow man with narrow features, smirked as he rudely shoved past Chan. Chan considered giving him a piece of his mind, but it wasn't worth it. Some asshole wasn't worth his time. It wasn't until about a minute later that he realized that was Vachir, that Yu Yan archer who had met them on Grand Ember. But that information didn't help him in the slightest, so he just disregarded it. Instead, he finally twigged that if he couldn't berate the Tribesman, he could at least make sure Fire Lord Azula was aware of the risk she was taking. He'd seen her little speech. That had to have pissed somebody off.

Chan spotted the door to the chambers she had cloistered herself in until now. He knocked on the door. No answer. Still, he wasn't in a mood to just wait in the hallway, so he slid the door open, closing the door behind him. He could hear Azula ahead, talking to herself. It wasn't something she admitted to, but he'd heard her do it before in the past. Usually, it was a lot angrier than this, though. "Azula? I think you and I need to have a word," Chan called into the room. Azula became silent for a long moment.

"By all means," Azula said. Chan opened the next door, which moved from the foyer into the actual bedroom. Azula was sitting at her vanity, her back to the mirror. "So what is this about?"

"The Tribesman," Chan said. "I thought you were going to show him the door the instant we hit Betla. Instead," Chan shrugged with exasperation. "I know you have a plan for him. I'd expect nothing less. But would it kill you to let me in on this? Much as I hate to admit, I kinda like the guy. And when you're going to string him up, I'd like to be prepared for it."

Azula stared at him for a second, then an uneasy smile came to her face. "You're just going to have to trust that I'm doing the right thing," she said.

"Yeah, the right thing for who?" Chan said. He leaned against the door. After a moment, something started to twig at him.

"Well, if you can't trust your own Fire Lord, who can you trust?" Azula said, turning away.

"That's a good point," Chan said carefully. "You trust me, though, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Azula said, applying lipstick to her face. Chan's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. This definitely wasn't right.

"Funny. You've never said that before."

"Maybe because I thought it was implicit," Azula said. "Gods know I wouldn't put my trust in the barbarian."

Chan moved closer, his suspicions burning. "So what was up with that little speech of yours, anyway? Weren't you trying to keep your condition close to the chest?"

"It... seemed the opportune moment?" it was phrased as a statement, but from her mouth, it sounded the uneasy question. Chan stared hard at her, she looked back. Sweat began to roll down her forehead. Nervousness?

He took her hand, and rolled down her sleeve. Her arms were pristine and smooth, and their pallor was different from that of her face. He stared her in the eye, and her face betrayed naked terror. "Azula isn't religious. Azula doesn't trust anybody. And Azula has scars on her arms. You aren't Azula," Chan said, his voice a blade.

There was a light hiss, and Chan took a step back as the impersonator fouled herself, before tucking her arms around her and staring up at him, desperation clear on those golden eyes. "Please, I beg you, don't tell him. Don't tell anybody," she said, so meek that all similarity to the Fire Lord vanished completely. Chan stared at her for a moment. His mind might not be the best, but it started to put the pieces together just like anybody else would have in that situation.

"Agni's Blood," Chan said, the terrible realization dawning on him. He leaned down. "Clean yourself up and stay here. I'll deal with you later."

And Chan was running.

Azula lounged luxuriously in that tub of water, so hot it was almost scalding. Even though she still couldn't ever feel completely clean, it was relaxing, and that was a vast improvement over what she usually had to deal with. Today was a day of triumph. She had control of the Tribesman, by the loins if not by the mind, she had shown her 'captors' what sort of puppet she was, and she even derived a much greater sense of satisfaction from banishing her father than she had thought possible. There was something there that she hadn't anticipated. As she was pronouncing the sentence, she had gotten legitimately angry, and she wasn't sure why.

The slow smile spread across Azula's face, which rested low in the water which almost covered her completely. She could hear little but the occasional thumps through the ground under the tub. Feel little but that suffusive heat. See little but the rough ceiling overhead. This was as close to contentment as she could remember being for years. Still, she had a long way to go before she returned to her full glory. She had only taken the first step. Next, she would have to start eroding Jeong Jeong's authority, and turn him against Long Feng. But she had plenty of time.

She lazily raised one arm out of the water, running her gaze down the patchwork of scars. They bothered her. In a way she couldn't really see. There was a black window in the way, muffled sounds from a dark room. She didn't want to think about it, so much so that Azula knew there was something there to be seen. But that, as many other things, could wait. Her eyes slid closed, and her arm slipped back into the hot water. She let out a little sigh. Then her eyes slid back open.

And Vachir, the grey-skinned archer was staring down at her, his eyes betraying dark thoughts. There was just an instant, locked into stillness as Azula's mind quickly heaved itself back into proper order, where she didn't understand, where she was enraged that a man would come upon her nudity. But then that flash second passed, and his intentions were clear. She thrust her arm up, and a bolt of sickly blue fire launched toward his face. It didn't fly right, and was stalled in its generation; the abundant water vapor around her was sinking the heat and ruining her aim. Vachir, despite his proximity, easily dodged aside.

Azula exploded out of the tub, landing on bare feet and twisting into an arc kick, sending a twisting wash of fire toward the archer. But as before, the steam in the air interfered with her control, and he was able to duck under it, hook his arm under her leg, and bull rush her into a wall. She ignited a lancet of fire from her fingers and jabbed it toward the archer's skull... but a large, beefy hand interrupted her, twisting it up above her head. She turned to see Mongke, the leader of the defunct Rough Rhinos, smirking maliciously at her. For about one extra second, only. Because immediately after that, the other beefy fist smashed her in the jaw.

Stars flitted in her vision, and the archer began to knee her in her stomach, driving the air out of her lungs. She let out a roar, and bent the chi inside herself in a form that she had no recollection of learning. Fire erupted from every pore of her skin, searing and driving the two away for a moment. She was not going to lose to these thugs. She lashed out with one fist toward Mongke, an unsteady blast of fire he managed to divert with a classic Agni Kai block. The other was snuffed when Vachir swept a bucket through her bathwater and snuffed the flame as it was generated, exploding into even more disruptive steam. She put her back into the next attack, drawing the Chi out of her body in dangerous amounts, wielding it like a polearm with both hands. It slashed toward the two men...

And then Azula watched her hands hit the floorboards.

There was shock, obviously. She looked down at her hands. Then up at her arms. The arms ended too early. Too redly. She looked to her side, to the third of the group. It was a squat, hairy man, with green eyes, holding a jet black sword. Calmly, he put the blade away, before even the pain had a chance to start radiating up from Azula's amputated extremities. "...Wait..." Azula said.

From the corner of her eye, she could see her disheveled doppelganger. She was shaking her head, an expression of scorn on her face.

"Wait..." Azula said, her thoughts becoming fuzzy.

"I've been wanting this for a long time, bitch," Vachir said, grabbing her by the hair and slamming her against the wall. "I don't like the way you've been looking at me. Like you're better than me. Above me. I think I'm going to correct that."

The sickening grin of Vachir was the last thing she saw, before his knife removed her ability to see completely. The pain became bodily, then, she simply stopped keeping track of where it was. Searing heat to her forearms and wrists. Repeated blows to her face and chest. At least one slash across the hamstrings of her legs when she tried kicking at random. The beating only slowed when Mongke's laugh sounded in Azula's new blindness.

"That'll do for now. Wrap her up and bring her along," he said. "I'm sure they want her to last a good long while."

Azula felt hollow. She was alone. She was a failure. Everybody hated Azula. Everybody hated the monster. And now, the monster had finally gotten what it deserved. Abandoning all pretense to humanity or pride, blood tears running from hollow eyes, Azula, now no better than a little girl, screamed in absolute terror.

To Be Continued

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