Sozin's Comet, Part 3 – Zuko and Katara are travelling on Appa to face Azula

Katara glanced over at Zuko. Reuniting with General Iroh had completed him somehow, filled in the gaps and cracks in his sense of self from his violent struggle against the guilt that bound him. There was a calm to him now—no, calm was the wrong word, it was more like a blazing flame that no longer flickered from the drafts that crept through the cracks.

Despite that, the orange sky lent a sickly cast to his frown, highlighting the puckered scar in vivid red as though it was freshly made. Was he thinking of the battle ahead, brother against sister? Of a family, divided?

"Zuko, don't worry." There was so much more she wanted to say, but she wasn't the one with a psychotic sibling and a megalomaniac father. She chose the safe path instead. "We can take Azula."

He was silent for a moment, eyes squinted against the constant dry heat that assailed them.

"It's not her I'm worried about," he eventually said, turning to meet her gaze.

There was some pain, yes, but also acceptance. He knew what had to be done, and he'd do it even if some part of him ripped to shreds.

He sighed. "I'm worried about Aang. What if he doesn't have the guts to take out my father?" The hardness in his voice wavered. "What if he loses?"

"Aang won't lose," she replied with more confidence than she felt. Where family could restore him, it could also destroy him once more. There was one thing she did know for certain, however. "Aang wouldn't run away. He's gonna come back."

"The Avatar will face my father." His whisper breathed hope and hurt, scorching like the air.

She wanted to reach out, wanted to clasp the hands that clutched Appa's fur tight against the trembling. But Zuko was already looking ahead, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

She'd been wrong. Family could never destroy him again. He stood firm on a foundation laid by his uncle through the long, painful years of banishment. Perhaps she'd had the notion of confidence wrong all this time. Perhaps confidence wasn't about knowing you would win.

Perhaps it was about knowing that whatever happened, you had the strength to push on regardless.

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Zuko caught and held Azula's stare as Appa landed at the foot of the Royal Palace stairs. Her hair, always perfectly coiffed, hung in draggled, uneven strands about her gaunt face. She was alone save for the attendants who'd been ready to crown her Fire Lord.

He had friends holding off the invasion on the front lines. He had Uncle, who'd forgiven him against his wildest hopes and was fighting to re-take Ba Sing Se and their tea shop home. He had Katara, in whose presence he could let his flame burn brightly enough to drive away the dark; enough to drive away the cold fear that gripped him every time he stood against his sister.

Who did Azula have?

"Sorry, but you're not gonna become Fire Lord today," he announced, leaping off Appa. "I am."

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A/N: And now I'm going to suggest you break and watch the Zuko/Azula fight in this episode (and the next, but let's keep this thing chapter-ised) because it is a triumphant, heartbreaking masterpiece no matter how many times it's been viewed. The music, the choreography, the emotion… everything.

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Lightning crackled blue in the air as Azula gathered it about her. Zuko shifted into the stance Uncle taught him. Calm. Ready. Able to take whatever she could hurl at him, and let it pass through.

Her lip quirked in a smile he recognised. One that meant she was about to take something precious from him. Something…

Her eyes flickered to his right. He didn't need to think; he leapt in the same direction as she loosed the lightning. He knew who she was aiming at, knew he couldn't properly redirect mid-air but knew all the same that he would choose this course of action over and over.

Without Katara, he would be nothing more than a banked fire.

He met the bolt, embraced it. He pulled it into his centre just as Uncle had taught, pulled it all until he was full to bursting and there was nowhere to go but out, ripping through every fibre of his being, returning his embrace with its own deadly one. But despite how his body was torn from his control, despite the pain of it all, he let it go.

The bolt lit up the sky, and was gone.

Katara yelled his name as he twitched helplessly on the ground, his body claimed by the remnants of the lightning. He heard her footsteps racing toward him, and felt the bolt Azula drove between them.

When Azula cackled and turned her full attention to Katara, however, it wasn't fear that claimed him. It wasn't even anger. Instead it was a grim certainty that whatever Katara had to endure, she would never lose to his sister.

While her mist could let a flame burn to its full potential, it could also do the opposite. Turned against an enemy, her mist could snuff a flame out.

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A/N 2: One chapter left! Hope you guys have enjoyed this so far!