Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its affiiated characters.
Chapter 6: Quarrels and Interrogations
"Here we are again, Fire Lord. Another political disaster on our hands. These are becoming quite common, aren't they?" Taro sarcastically pointed out. Zuko rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was approximately two seconds away from directing a fireball at Taro's bespeckled face. Patience had never been a strength of his.
Muffling a yawn, Zuko pondered The Situation, as his advisors had taken to calling it.
A little after sunset, Chief Hakoda had been attacked on his way back to his chambers after dinner. Witnesses reported that the Water Tribe Chief's left side was badly burned from the attack and required medical attention immediately. No information on the assailant had yet turned up, but several Fire Palace servants were being detained and questioned as to what they saw. Zuko, meanwhile had been whisked away to deal with the fallout of such a terrorist attack.
"Do we have the medical prognosis from the healers yet?" Ryuu, another of Zuko's advisors asked.
"Last I heard, things looked pretty grave for Chief Hakoda," Taro answered solemnly, his previous mockery muted by the seriousness of Hakoda's injuries.
"Why did it have to be fire?" Zuko muttered angrily. Of all the possible weapons at his disposal, the assassin just had to choose fire, the very element Zuko was so arduously trying to give a better reputation. He already knew how the Water Tribe people would see the attack: another ruthless Fire Nation attempt to wipe their ruler, and by extension them, out. All the progress he had made for his nation after the war wouldn't matter. Once again, he would be judged for his past mistakes.
"Fire sends a message," Taro responded. "The assassin wanted to make a spectacle."
Zuko pondered this for a moment. The assassin had certainly made a spectacle, and all without leaving a trace of his identity. It had to be a Fire Nation citizen...maybe even one of his own soldiers that lived in the Fire Palace. Yes, that would make sense. It would explain why no one had reported a breach on the palace's walls. The assassin had been inside the whole time.
"Taro, detain all palace soldiers with firebending abilities and begin interrogations. When you've narrowed down the list of suspects to a choice few, notify me and I will continue with the questioning. Personally."
"Of course, Fire Lord, but what ab—"
Taro was cut off mid-sentence by the slamming of the study's heavy doors as the Fire Lord stalked from the room.
"Why do I bother?" Taro asked sarcastically, staring at the ceiling in annoyance.
† † †
Katara felt numb. Sitting on a rickety wooden chair a servant had fetched for her, she barely noticed the figures before her rushing in and out of the Fire Palace's extensive medical ward. All she could think of was charred skin and the crumpling of dreams she'd never even known she'd wanted. Emotion clogged her throat as insidious fears plagued her thoughts.
She'd never talk to her father again. He'd never see her on her wedding day, never get to have grandchildren. She'd never see him grow old and wrinkled. Soon she'd be a true orphan, no mother and no father. Sokka would be the last of her blood still alive in the world.
Several servants carrying large buckets of water passed by her and disappeared into the throng of healers. She swallowed hard, realising the water they carried was for her father. Sitka, the wife of a Tribesman, had come along for the peace summit. She was an immigrant from the North and a talented healer, having learned the skill in her youth. Now, she was Hakoda's last hope for survival. Sokka had been the one to fetch Sitka, dragging her from her chambers in the middle of the night after learning of the attack. Katara had rushed to the medical ward just after, catching her brother dropping off Sitka. Sokka had filled her in on all the grisly details of the attack against Hakoda. She'd sat in numb silence ever since.
More than anything, Katara wished there was something she could do to help. The need to act, to fix things, was all-consuming. She wished she could be in there with Sitka, helping to heal her father, but her own healing powers were feeble at best. All she knew was death and manipulation. She snorted derisively; Hama was so sure bloodbending was the ultimate power, and yet when her father needed her most, she could do nothing but sit and fester in her own worry.
"My Lord!" a voice from nearby squeaked. A hush fell over the previously bustling medical ward and Katara broke free from her trance long enough to see what it was all about. Glancing up from her clasped hands, Katara saw a tall, imposing figure standing in front of her, his golden eyes sharp even at this late hour. Recognition made her want to crawl back into her comfortable numbness. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was the Fire Lord and his inquisitive eyes.
"I've come for news of Hakoda. Send out a healer to debrief me and resume what you were doing," the Fire Lord instructed succinctly. The servants and healers sprang back to life, albeit hesitantly. It seemed the presence of their ruler unnerved them as much as it did Katara. She had to laugh at that; the man was a stranger even among his own people, a predatory cat let loose in the chicken coop.
She studied him with curiosity. Even in the midst of chaos he looked elegant and imposing. His dinner robes, though slightly rumpled from the night's events, still hung from his frame gracefully. The only blight in his otherwise put-together appearance was his hair. Normally pulled up in a regal topknot, it was down, appearing long and shaggy. She decided she liked his hair better this way. It looked silky and soft, and she found herself traitorously wanting to run her fingers through it. She'd most likely lose a hand if she ever did that, though.
In an instant, a servant deposited a plush chair next to her own, and the Fire Lord reclined next to her, his eyes doing a perusal of his own. Compared to him, she looked dreadful. Her face was pale and lines of fatigue had already begun to etch themselves onto her normally smooth, tan skin. Her hair was down, like his, but looked dull and tangled. She doubted the man was thinking nice things about her appearance. His face pinched with worry as he took her in.
That bad, huh, Katara thought to herself. She eyed his comfy-looking chair with envy. The wooden monstrosity she was sitting upon was digging into her backside horrendously.
"Would you like to switch?" the Fire Lord asked, reading her thoughts.
"No, I'm fine," Katara sniffed stubbornly. The last thing she was wanted to do was take the Fire Lord's chair. It was probably sacred or something, only worthy of the royal tush of the Fire Nation.
"You look exhausted, please," he motioned for her to get up and she found herself complying. Seated again, she was dwarfed by the big chair. It was as comfortable as it looked, however, and she was able to tuck her legs under herself, curling up like a kitten.
"How long have you been waiting out here?" the Fire Lord asked, keeping one eye on the melee around them and the other on her.
"A few hours I think," Katara responded, stifling a yawn. "No one's bothered to tell me any news, though," Katara muttered.
"A healer will be out shortly to inform me, you're welcome to listen in."
"Of course. They scurry like rats at your command, but no one bothers to think that I might want to know whether or not my father is going to live," Katara griped. She was no longer numb, but angry.
"Perhaps you didn't notice, but my healers are the best in the Fire Nation, and they're busy trying to save your father. They hardly have the time to console the relatives of patients," the Fire Lord scoffed. He soon realised that this was the very worst thing he could have said, as Katara's eyes filled with hostility and angry tears welled up in the corners. "Forgive me, that came out wrong—"
"I think it came out exactly as you intended, Fire Lord," Katara seethed, her voice filled with malice.
"Look, you're upset and angry; I get it. You're worried about someone you love, and I understand how you're feeling, but—" Zuko began, only to be interrupted.
"Do you, really? How could you understand my feelings? You weren't waiting by your father's bedside when he died. You were hundreds of miles away, hiding from him! Your father was a monster. Nobody mourns him, so how could you possibly understand loss?" Katara sneered.
"I wasn't talking about my father. I lost a mother, too," Zuko informed her quietly, his jaw clamped hard.
"So did I, and all because of you, your family, your blood!" Katara's eyes were wild, feral almost. "And now I might lose my father as well!"
"I had nothing to do with your mother's death or Hakoda's injuries. I am not my father," Zuko spoke coldly, his voice sending chills over her skin.
"Maybe not, but you're a monster just the same," Katara vowed, her face perilously close to the Fire Lord's. Before he knew what he was doing, Zuko snapped, pushing his forearm across her neck and pinning her against her chair.
"I am not a monster!" he spoke harshly, his words like nails pounding into her flesh, one after another. He saw a flash of fear run through her eyes, quick as a Jackalope, before vanishing.
"Are you sure about that," Katara choked out from behind the heavy bar of his arm. Zuko's eyes watched her delicate mouth struggle to form the words.
If I truly was a monster I'd have claimed those lips by now, the thought came unbidden and shocked Zuko out of his angry fog. Abruptly he released Katara as if her skin had burned him. Disgusted with himself, he looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
"Ahem," a voice coughed to their left. An old Fire Nation healer stood before them, her eyes wide after having taken in the intense scene between the Fire Lord and Katara. "I was told you require news on Chief Hakoda's medical prognosis, my Lord," the woman declared hesitantly.
Zuko cleared his throat awkwardly, aware the old woman had seen him practically accost Lady Katara.
"Yes, news would be appreciated," he responded, motioning her to continue.
"Chief Hakoda was badly burned by a firebending assailant, as you know. His left extremities caught the brunt of the trauma with second and third degree burns. The Northern Watertribe volunteered one of their waterbending healers, a woman by the name of Sitka, to help heal Chief Hakoda. She's done her best to try and heal the skin on her own, but her powers alone are not enough to fix him. Instead, we're going to combine Fire Nation and Watertribe methods, initially using a skin graft on the afflicted areas and then using Sitka's healing powers to fuse the skin graft to Hakoda's body and heal him completely," the woman concluded.
"How long will that take?" Zuko asked detachedly.
"The surgery itself will only last a few hours, but with a burn this big the healing will likely take weeks. Full recovery, on the other hand..." the woman trailed off uncertainly.
"But his chances of survival are good, right?" Katara interrupted anxiously.
"Yes, he'll survive, but that will be the least of his problems. The burns may leave his body unfeeling and mobility may be an issue as well," she finished.
Katara sat back in shock. Dimly, she watched as the Fire Lord thanked the woman for her time and excused her, but Katara's thoughts were focused on her father. Her strong, brave father. The man who'd survived a war, but lost it all at a peace summit. He'd be reduced to a shell of his former self, unfit to act as chief. Who would lead the tribe? A thousand thoughts raced through her mind.
As Katara retreated into her own head, Zuko watched her warily. He was never that adept with emotional situations, and this was no exception. He wanted to apologize, for her father and for their fight, but underneath his cold, intimidating veneer lay a shy, awkward man who didn't quite know how to reach out to others. Against his better judgement, he cleared his throat, deciding that silence would be worse than anything he could possibly say.
"Lady Katara, please forg― " he began, but it seemed his voice only managed to reignite the smoldering embers of their fight.
"I think you've said enough, Fire Lord," she muttered bitingly. "If you'll excuse me I'd like to be alone with my thoughts." She got up and stalked from the medical ward, Zuko glaring darkly at her retreating form.
† † †
"What's his name?"
"Akoto," Taro responded to the Fire Lord's question.
"His rank?"
"Just a palace guard, but a particularly powerful firebender."
"If he's such a great bender, why hasn't he been appointed to a higher position?"
"He has a reputation for being a little...hot-headed. He assaulted his commanding officer a few months back, but instead of discharging him they sent him here. Didn't want to waste that much firebending power."
"And why do you think he's responsible for the attack on Hakoda? What makes him special?" Zuko asked, wanting all the facts.
Taro looked away from the Fire Lord and through the small window on the door to the cell where they were holding Akoto. His hands were bound with rope and a hood covered his face.
"His father was killed in a raid on the Southern Watertribe during the War. According to rumors, he still harbors resentment toward the Watertribe people," Taro answered finally. "And, he was missing from his post during the time of the attack."
"Alright, then. Let's get answers," Zuko muttered darkly before gliding into Akoto's cell with Taro in tow.
Akoto blinked rapidly as the hood was torn from his head and blinding light assaulted his eyes. Zuko paused to asses the man, taking advantage of his temporary confusion. Akoto was neither tall nor short, neither fat nor skinny, and his hair was a dull back styled into the standard topknot of the palace guard. If it weren't for the long, thin scar running from his temple to his chin, the man would be utterly unremarkable. As it were, the scar, from what Zuko surmised must have been a particularly nasty knife fight, gave a sinister twist to Akoto's face. Much in the same way that Zuko's own scar altered his face.
"Fire Lord," Akoto grunted, a tinge of surprise in his deep voice.
"I trust you know why you're here," Zuko declared, pacing the cell in a predatory fashion. Akoto's face immediately twisted into something feral.
"They think I attacked that Watertribe scum," he spat angrily.
"You'd do well to speak better of Hakoda. He's both a powerful warrior and a respected leader. Nor is speaking ill of him going to help your case," Taro chimed in from the sidelines, never able to keep his comments to himself.
"And did you?" Zuko questioned, looking the man directly in the eyes. Akoto's anger seemed to falter under the Fire Lord's intimidating stare.
"No. No, I didn't attack him! Do you take me for an idiot?" he exclaimed. "If I'd attacked him I'd be put to death for sure."
"Correct. If we find you guilty you will be publicly executed for your crimes," Taro informed him nonchalantly.
"I didn't attack him!" Akoto yelled, fear taking root at Taro's mention of execution.
"Then explain why you were missing from your post during the attack," Zuko questioned, arching a black brow indignantly. Akoto's face paled slightly at this line of questioning.
"I―I left my post to meet a―a woman! A laundress, actually. She's an easy lay, you see and―"
"You're lying," Zuko interrupted. "Where were you, really? Don't bother with another lie. I'll know."
Akoto hung his head, as if embarrassed or ashamed.
"I―I don't know," he stuttered out, looking at the Fire Lord apprehensively. From the corner, Taro laughed nastily.
"You don't know? How original," Taro mocked.
"I told you, I don't know!" Akoto shouted, enraged with Zuko's acerbic advisor. "I can't remember anything from last night," he admitted.
Zuko motioned Taro to the corner of the cell where they talked in hushed whispers.
"Where was he found?" Zuko asked.
"After the alarm was sounded following Hakoda's attack, members of the guard found Akoto wandering the West Wing of the palace, disoriented," Taro answered.
"Disoriented? So it could be possible…"
"Zuko. Really? You believe the drivel he's feeding us?"
"I'm not saying I believe him. I just think that it's...possible," Zuko reasoned. "I'm not going to send a man to his death based upon his reputation alone. We need proof of some sort."
"Then let's continue." Taro mockingly waved a hand toward their prisoner, urging Zuko to get back to business.
"What's the last thing you remember? Perhaps a sight, a noise, maybe a smell?" Zuko prompted. Akoto closed his eyes, racking his brain for the memories that seemed just out of grasp. After several minutes of silence, Taro impatiently cleared his throat.
"Alright, this has gone on long enough, Fire Lord. He clearly doesn't―"
"Something blue!" Akoto exclaimed suddenly, excitement shining on his disfigured face. Taro rolled his eyes.
"You need to be more specific, Akoto," the Fire Lord informed him sharply. He was beginning to tire of this interrogation.
"I remembered something. Just before I blacked out. It was blue...a face...a blue face. A mask!" he shouted, grasping for the memory. "I was patrolling and this figure, it just melted out of the shadows. All I saw was this terrible blue face with white fangs. And then this smell...like rotting fruit. That's all I remember," he finished.
Taro replied, probably something sarcastic and biting, but Zuko didn't hear it. He didn't hear anything. He stood, rooted to the ground of the cell, a chill seeping into his bones. He knew now, beyond a doubt, that Akoto was innocent. Not just innocent, but framed. Zuko knew of only one mask like the one Akoto had described. It was his mask. The mask of the Blue Spirit.
And it seemed someone was going around impersonating the Fire Lord's alter-ego. And that person was trying to kill people.
Author's Note: Wham-bam-thank-you-mam! Zuko is not the one running around as the Blue Spirit! Anyways, thank you for reading. I know I promised that Katara's blood/waterbending would be revealed this chapter but it just didn't fit into the storyline after that shocking reveal at the end. So it will be in the next chapter. Sorry, I don't make the rules. I hope you enjoyed Zuko and Taro's little good cop/bad cop routine there at the end. I'm also considering pursuing this story seriously now. I feel like I might need a Beta reader for that. I've never had a Beta before and as far as I can tell they just like proofread your story, but if anyone is looking to beta read, drop me a comment or message.
