Disclaimer: Consult previous chapter.
Special thanks to my previous beta Lavanya Six, and my current betas Devon and Aurelia Le!
Timeline Note: This chapter takes place approximately 15 years after the death of Ozai.
The Right to Rule
An Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic
Chapter 11
The Art of Compromise
So. The Southern Water Tribes.
Centuries ago, the North united into a single tribe and started to put its thumb upon the wheel of global politics. The South never got that far. Whenever a Chieftain was about to gain the power necessary to make everyone else bow their heads, the rest of the tribes would ally against them, or an underling would start a civil war and break off. Hakoda's tribe didn't even have a tenth of the South's total population, and already there were grumblings.
If Hatsuna had had enough time, she might have been able to mold a proper country out of the region. In four years, the last water Avatar had managed to ally the warring tribes for a century in order to fight the Fire Nation. But with the War over and peace returned, they remembered that they actually hated each other.
Now, in itself this was no major concern. If Aang was to be believed, the tribes were generally small enough, and their conflicts petty enough, that Avatars rarely felt the need to intervene. But Hatsuna hadn't just allied the tribes together; she had fashioned them into guerrilla armies, with everyone of fighting age, male and female, able to hold a spear or wield a water whip. The conflicts weren't petty anymore.
The first war after Ozai's death was between two tribes in the depths of the Pole, with barely fifty members each. Food was scarce, and they disagreed about who had the rights to some prime hunting territory. A century ago, it might have ended with two dead, five wounded, and a steady peace. This time, there were four months of brutal guerrilla warfare. The loser was almost completely wiped out. The winners were left with around ten survivors, most either very old or very young. The only reason anyone even knew all this was because a larger tribe investigated to see what had happened to their trading partners.
That was only the first; more soon followed. Worse, the tribes' reaction was to start setting up networks of alliances—networks that quickly became so convoluted and impenetrable that more than half of them almost certainly owed contradictory allegiances. The South soon found itself balanced atop a huge pile of kindling, with even a small spark threatening to set the entire region ablaze.
And truthfully, there wasn't much Azula could do. She was not exactly a political novice, but the sheer number of tribes and bonds of friendship and hatred between them made it impossible for anyone to comprehend more than a sliver of what was going on. The South concealed a hundred worlds of intrigue beneath its blizzards, and Azula couldn't spend a lifetime learning them when she had the rest of the planet to worry about as well.
Luckily, despite being barbarians, the southerners were not stupid. They knew how devastating a huge war would be. While minor conflicts remained incessant, a major one hadn't occurred as of yet. But Azula was not foolish enough to believe that the current situation would continue forever. Something would have to give.
These were the topics she discussed with Katara the day the latter ascended to be Chieftain of the Blizzard's Shadow Tribe following her grandmother's death and father's retirement.
"I assume there's a point to all this, Avatar?" Katara asked evenly after she finished.
Azula knew the new Chieftain would not like what she was about to hear. "There are too many old grievances and too many new conflicts. A fragile peace must break. There will be war, one way or the other. The only questions are how many will be drawn into it and what results we can wring from it."
"You have yet to answer my question."
Azula dropped her voice to a whisper that she still made reverberate throughout the igloo. "The South can no longer contain hundreds of competing tribes. You've become too adept at war. You have only two options." She put her hand forward, palm open, then clenched it into a fist. "Unite, or die."
The Earth Kingdom presented a different pit of worm-beetles.
The first thing any serious student of Earth Kingdom politics had to learn was that "the Earth Kingdom" existed in name only. Ba Sing Se might technically have held sovereignty over the entire continent, but in practice, the Earth King's authority over areas outside his city's walls was tenuous at best. Everyone else was essentially under the thumb of a local lord (though there were of course complications and differences between regions).
This wasn't surprising if you knew the history. The Earth Kingdom was huge, after all, and over time its different areas had developed completely distinct cultures. Before the War, the average resident of Omashu hated Gaoling and Ba Sing Se more than the Fire Nation, and the feeling was mutual on all sides. Gaoling had revolted fifty years before the War. Chin revolted and took over almost the entire continent (temporarily) two centuries ago. And Omashu was basically its own country, even possessing its own King. Honestly, if the Earth Kingdom had been half as united as the Fire Nation, they would have likely beaten back the invasion with ease.
Be that as it may, after the War, Long Feng and his Dai Li had kept the other territories in line, using methods Azula studiously avoided looking at too closely. Unfortunately these methods cost money, lots of money, especially since the general perception was that Ba Sing Se's response to the invasion had been to say "Best of luck!" and lock itself up inside its walls. Unfortunately, Azula had only truly appreciated this when her new flunky of a Grand Secretariat drastically slashed taxes to make the peasants happy, thus defunding the methods of control, thus causing a millennia's worth of resentment to flare up at once.
She had learned, a bit too late, that taking out one person didn't make the problems go away.
And then there was the Fire Nation.
Ichiro was dead, taking his Sons of the Phoenix with him, but he had hardly been the only one opposed to Zuko's rule. Now, technically, the Firelord was supreme ruler. Technically, anyone who disobeyed an order would end with their head rolling on the ground next to Ichiro's. In reality, there are innumerable ways to screw over your superior without actually disobeying them, and Zuko's soldiers were learning every single one.
This was a huge issue for many reasons, but the biggest was that the Fire Nation military was also the Fire Nation police force. With war reparations leeching the country's wealth, making poverty more rampant than it had been in centuries, lack of proper law enforcement was destructive. Crime was going up with no end in sight.
So that was bad. Bad enough to seriously threaten the precarious balance Azula, Zuko, and Mai had created. But that wasn't the end of it, not even close.
The next problem was the nobility. When Firelord Himiko of the White Flame bound the Fire States together to create one nation, the old Kings and Princes demanded some share of power as a price for their obedience. While more than half their lines were now gone (though new nobility claimed to be descendants of some distant relative of an old noble clan), the system they had set up remained. Nobles ran the gamut from rich to poor, smart to slow, and influential to laughingstocks, but they all agreed on one thing: they deserved more money and more power. The War had given them both, and then Zuko had taken them away.
And even that did not cover the full extent of the problem. There was still the Fire Sages. Sozin had forcibly taken away the power they still held and confined them to their island, a practice Azulon and Ozai maintained. Zuko, naturally, ended it and put them back in their traditional position as the Fire Nation's religious authority. But they had not lost their taste for conquest and glory, and all her brother got in return for his generosity was yet another powerful group that detested his reconciliatory policies.
To summarize: the three main non-imperial centers of power all hated Zuko and would have liked nothing better than to see a sword through his guts.
But if that was enough to make people happy, the world would be a much simpler place.
Katara frowned as she sipped her boiled water.
Unite or die, Azula had said, as if it were some kind of grand revelation. Katara had to rely on boring old eyes instead of earth and airbending, but she could see well enough. When she had been headmaster of her tribeless waterbending school, hardly a week went by without some family member complaining that they didn't want their child associating with someone from a tribe they suddenly decided they hated. She knew very well that the entire South was at each other's throats, just waiting for somebody else to make a wrong move.
But given that situation, just how did she expect that Katara could ally them all together?
"How's the water, Chief Katara?"
Tastes like seal-pigs. "It's quite bracing, Chief Andor."
Well, this meeting would set things in motion, one way or another. Andor was Chieftain of the Ice Reavers Tribe, rivals of Katara's tribe since before time forgot. The lists of offenses they both could claim were as long as they were embellished (which was heavily). Even during the War, Andor had tried to undercut Father every way he could short of collaboration with the enemy—and, to be fair, Father tended to give as good as he got. However, the Ice Reavers were the second-most numerous tribe in the South, just behind Katara's. Unification, if it was possible at all, depended on them.
Hence this critically important, secret, extremely nerve-wracking meeting.
Andor took a big gulp from his own mug, which was made from a seal-pig's skull. "I'd like to offer my thanks for teaching my son waterbending," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He had a shaggy beard that stretched down to his chest and a huge scar cut diagonally across his face.
"Baktu is an admirably hard worker and a very kind boy."
Andor laughed heartily. "That's one way of putting it. Another way is that he fights like a woman. Meaning no offense, Chieftain."
Katara smiled thinly. "None taken." Baktu was quite shy, but he had once confided in her that he had three older sisters, two of whom were more skilled in waterbending than him. He was the only one who had been sent to Katara's school. And while Katara had been walking through the tribe's territory (disguised, of course), she had noticed that almost everyone living in a permanent dwelling was a woman or a child, while all the ones sent out for hunting and guerrilla duty were men.
Hatsuna had greater impacts on some tribes than on others.
For unity, she told herself. So that more children don't lose their mothers and fathers. "Apologies, Chieftain, but I am very busy, and you must be as well. Could we talk about—"
"Yes, of course," Andor cut her off. "Your messenger told me you had an important political matter to discuss. What of it?"
Katara could feel her blood flowing faster. With practiced effort, she calmed it down. "You know very well the instability of the current balance of power, I'm sure."
"We're as balanced as a warmlander on a frozen lake." Andor laughed again. "The Cold Blades and the Shark-Bears are one insult away from open war. The Wind Demons and Night Patrols already are at war, we just can't admit it because if we did we'd have to get involved." He smiled savagely at her. "Right?"
Katara had allied with the Night Patrol Tribe, Andor with the Wind Demons. It was one of almost a dozen alliances that would force them into war should the simmering hostilities break out.
"It is as you say," she said evenly.
"I assume you didn't come all the way here just to tell me things a blind fool could see?"
No use playing coy, it seems. "I propose a unification."
At that, Andor's confident front collapsed as his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. "Unification? Are you serious?"
"One tribe, one people. It's the only way to avoid war."
Andor looked at her in shock for a few more seconds, then tilted his head back and laughed longer and harder than Katara had heard anyone laugh before. She had no idea if that was a good sign or not.
Finally he stopped, and looked at her with a toothy grin. "Do you know how I got this? Chieftain?" He jabbed a thumb at his scar.
Katara blinked, confused, and said, "No."
"It's said that no Water Tribesman fought Water Tribesman during the Hundred Years War, but that's a damn lie. Thirty-seven years ago, a particularly nasty blizzard killed most of the game near us, so I led a hunting party into your father's territory. He didn't like that, and attacked us. Four dead, nine wounded, and this scar, courtesy of dear old dad's blade."
Katara's mind was reeling. She had never heard of this, and had no idea what to say. All she could do was sit there, listening to Andor rant on.
"I thought you were going to declare war or demand we cut off our allies. Either way, I was planning to spit in your face and send you on your way. But after all you and your family did to us, you want us to forget the past, put on our best smile, and submit to your rule?"
"N-no, the rule would be—"
"I don't care!" Andor slammed a huge fist on the ice table in front of them, smashing it and sending shards flying. "I sent my son to your damn school because the Moon decided to grant you skill with waterbending, but don't think I'll stand for this insult. If you wanted to provoke me, you damn well succeeded. If it's war you want, then it's war you'll have. We're going to support the Wind Demons and put everything we've got into crushing your allies. Put that into your mouth and chew on it naked."
Katara's hand twitched. Andor wasn't even a waterbender. It would be so easy to suffocate him. She could even make it look like an accident. Then his son Baktu would become Chieftain, and then maybe...
Azula would do that, she thought bitterly. But she wasn't Azula. And Andor, Spirits curse him, knew that very well indeed.
"Now get out," he said.
Katara left without another word.
Haru sighed and lay his head on his arms as this meeting, like all the ones before it, collapsed into bickering.
It wasn't that he himself held any particular malice for Ba Sing Se. He hated the Fire Nation. With them finally gone, he frankly couldn't bring himself to care whether some guy he'd never met claimed to hold authority over him. But most everyone else in his village was still bitter that the Earth King had never even tried to save them, and his father had hammered home that a leader has exactly as much power as his underlings are willing to give him.
So here he was at yet another fruitless meeting for disaffected village leaders plotting rebellion against the Capital.
"Our village has owned the Weizi River for generations!"
"Because you stole it from us!"
Haru was beginning to wonder if there were any two politicians who didn't hate each other.
After a few more hours of nothing productive, he trudged back to his camp when he noticed a hooded figure standing outside his tent. "Do I know you?" he asked.
The figure looked up, and in the torchlight he could make out a cloth where their eyes should be. Haru's breath caught in his throat.
He had never met her before, but everyone in the world could recognize her.
"You're—" The Avatar interrupted him with a small stream of fire, causing him to hiss in pain.
"Keep your voice down," she whispered. "I'd rather no one else knew I was here. That's kind of why I wore this." She gestured at her hooded cloak.
Haru opened his mouth, checked himself, then whispered, "Why are you here?"
"Why don't we discuss that away from prying eyes? So to speak." She pushed open the tent flap.
Haru gulped. He had heard many stories about the Avatar, and being alone with her wasn't exactly the safest prospect. But it would probably be even more dangerous to disobey her. Reluctantly, he slunk into the tent, the Avatar following close behind him.
"Um, you could sit there." He gestured to the one chair, his voice only cracking a little bit.
"It's okay, I'll stand. This shouldn't take long."
Haru nodded, relieved. He kind of had to sit down himself. "So," he said slowly after sitting, "if you're here, then..."
"Yes, I know about your 'secret' rebellion meetings. Pretty much everyone important in the Earth Kingdom knows."
He looked up in shock. "Really? But then—"
"Why aren't they doing anything about it?" The Avatar chuckled. "My good friend and toady the Grand Secretariat has enough problems with his own city, trust me. If he really wanted to he could probably kill you all, but even a complete idiot can tell that'd just make you guys revolt faster."
Haru's throat suddenly became very dry at the words kill you all. He belatedly realized he hadn't really known what he was getting into when he went to these meetings. "Why are you here, then?"
"Ah, so we get to the main point." The Avatar looked at him. Even while he was sitting, she had to look up—he was very tall—but it sure felt like the reverse. "I did a little reconnaissance. Out of all these fools playing at revolution, you're the only one younger than fifty. I'm really tired of dealing with old men, and I think a change of pace might do me good. Hence, I'm here. Now then," she leaned forward, and Haru got the impression that the world was getting smaller, "why are you here?"
His hands clenched the ends of the chair as his mouth formed some words. "Ba Sing Se didn't do anything for ninety-nine years—"
The Avatar cut him off again; luckily, this time it was with a wave of her hand instead of fire. "I'm not asking for your rallying cry. What I want to know is, why are you yourself here?"
Haru looked down. You're being stupid, he admonished himself. If the Avatar had wanted to kill him, she'd have killed him by now. Probably. Anyway, he might as well go ahead and tell the truth. It's not like he was a very good liar. "It's not my choice," he said, his voice very small. "But my people want to revolt."
"And that's the problem." He looked up, and was shocked to see the Avatar casually leaning against a tent post, looking more like she was discussing the weather than the potential of a mass rebellion. "If it was just a few power-hungry leaders, the problem could be solved easily enough," she said lightly. "But just about the entire Earth Kingdom has decided it wants to revolt somehow and is just arguing about how. I could kill them all, I suppose," she raised a finger, "but that would be rather counterproductive."
Haru just looked on, not sure what to think, as she continued talking. "I could whip up some scheme to scare them all into submission," she said, raising a second finger, "but it's not easy even for me to terrify the entire Earth Kingdom, and anyway that'd only be a stopgap measure. I could give them all enough rice to make them fat and happy," she raised a third finger, "but there probably isn't enough rice in the world for that." She finally looked at him again...well, turned her head in his direction. "Frankly, and trust me when I say it's extremely painful for me to admit this, I'm all out of ideas. You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?"
His mouth opened, then closed. It repeated this process a few more times. In the end he just said, "Not as such, no."
"Yeah, I didn't think so." She sighed, though Haru was still too terrified to make out any particular emotion in it. "I've come to the conclusion that revolt is inevitable. I kind of just want to leave it alone and let you all fight it out yourselves, but you know...Avatar." She sighed again, and stopped talking.
The stones in Haru's brain finally started grinding again. If someone had told him the Avatar would be dropping by for a chat, then even if he believed them, he certainly wouldn't have thought it would turn out like...this. He had no idea what her goal with this conversation was. But it seemed like he really should say something...
"Our meetings haven't been very productive," he said, "but people in my village are only getting more and more angry. If we can't figure out an organized way to revolt, we'll probably revolt anyway, just...messily." He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to tell the Avatar all that. But she probably already knew anyway. And wasn't the Avatar's job to ensure peace, or balance, or something?
"If it's a choice between the two, I'd definitely prefer an organized revolt," the Avatar said. "Might as well get it all over with in one go. Why have the meetings gone badly, in your estimation?"
Haru finally managed a smile. "Everyone hates everyone else."
"Of course. The classic problem of organization." The Avatar let out a small grunt as she stood up from her leaning position. "Luckily, this is where we can turn the aforementioned major problem into our advantage."
He blinked. "The aforementioned…?"
"The fact that it's the people who want to revolt, not the leaders." She snapped her fingers a few times. "Come on, keep up. You'll have to be quicker than that if you're going to be my partner in this."
"P-partner?"
"Yup. I've got good contacts in Ba Sing Se, Omashu, and Gaoling, so I just need someone involved with all the unimportant people. And as previously mentioned, I'd rather not work with yet another old man. Don't worry, you probably won't die. Now come along." She began walking out of the tent.
Haru stood up, flustered. "Wait, where are we—"
"Time is of the essence. Well, at least for me. You guys aren't my only responsibility. We can ride on my bison. You don't have anything important here, do you? Of course you don't." She walked out of the tent, and Haru started after her, stopped, fetched his travel sack, and ran out after her without really thinking about what he was doing.
He really had had no idea what he was getting himself into, agreeing to go to those meetings.
"This payment will bankrupt us!"
"Then we should stop giving the military everything it wants at twice the price!"
"Do you intend to hand our country to the foreigners on a plush cushion!?"
Zuko's eyes itched, but he dared not rub them. Council meetings were like gatherings of tiger-wolves, each looking for any sign of weakness to pounce on. The only reason he didn't have a fang through his throat already was that all of them wanted to make sure they would be the ones sitting on the throne next.
And there was always Mai, sitting next to him, constantly on full alert. She helped Zuko in more ways than she could ever know.
"Times have changed! We can't go against the Avatar; we have to accept the new world order!" After the colonial compromise was adjusted, the Fire Nation colonials who remained demanded to have a representative on Zuko's small council. Naturally, the colonials had the biggest interest in keeping the Earth Kingdom friendly.
"If we have to ask foreigners' permission for everything we do, we might as well not be a nation!" The War Minister's opinion was always obvious. Most council meetings started with a loud argument between her and the colonial representative and quickly degenerated from there.
"She has a point," said the one who spoke for the nobles—at least, as much as anyone could speak for such a fragmented group. "It will be very difficult to make this payment. And need I remind you, Firelord, just where most of your treasury comes from."
Zuko stared back at him evenly. "I highly appreciate the taxes every class pays, of course." At first he had been nervous, but by now he was used to playing this game. "Incidentally," he turned to the Finance Minister, "how much do the nobles contribute?"
The Finance Minister said falteringly, "Technically, around 75%. But since much of their income comes from taxing the peasants..." He rarely said anything Zuko hadn't said first, and was intensely uncomfortable making an original statement. Still, he served his purpose. The noble looked cowed.
The thrill of a temporary victory subsided when he glanced at the last member of the Council: the Fire Sages' representative, Teng Fei. Teng Fei was the second-newest member of the Council (the nobles chose a different representative every other week) and rarely spoke, but Mai had warned Zuko the priest was dangerous the first time she saw him. He had kept an eye on the man ever since, but his face never deviated from its image of perfect serenity.
"We have to pay the Earth Kingdom somehow." The colonial was becoming more and more desperate the longer Zuko didn't betray his opinion. "If we don't, who knows what they'll do to us!"
The War Minister snorted. "Throw a few rocks?"
"We're the ones who'll get crushed by those rocks!" The colonial was practically shouting.
"Don't worry, we'll be sure to protect you."
"And the Earth Kingdom is the least of our problems," the colonial went on. "The Avatar—"
"It's always the Avatar with you." The War Minister leaned back in her chair and spoke in a mocking tone. "Avatar this, Avatar that. She's the sister of our very own Firelord! She's not going to attack us because of a few missed payments."
Zuko cleared his throat. While he was usually happy letting them use up time with their pointless arguments, he couldn't let that pass without comment. "My sister and I aren't that close. Right now, all she wants is to keep our hard-won peace. As do I."
The general waved her hand dismissively. "As I said, Firelord, it's a few missed payments. If the Earth Kingdom attacks us over them, they'd be the ones breaking the peace. If anything, the Avatar would be on our side."
"You can't know that for certain!" the colonial broke in. "Are you willing to risk our peoples' lives on your guess?"
"I agree with the War Minister, or at least her basic sentiment." The noble had recovered from his spar with Zuko and looked to have regained his confidence. "It's an old trick: threaten to ruin someone if you don't get your way, even if you have no intention of carrying the threat out. The Earth Kingdom wouldn't start a war over this. They've barely recovered from the last one."
Zuko steepled his fingers, deep in thought. He did have a point—nobody wanted another war, except maybe the War Minister (and most of the military, and many nobles and Fire Sages, and probably a good number of peasants...). Still. "If we deny the Earth Kingdom money, the Water Tribes might suspect they're next," he said slowly. "The Earth Kingdom might not move by itself, but allied with the rest of the world..."
"Have you been around the capital recently?" Teng Fei spoke up suddenly. The room went dead silent; everyone looked at the priest. Smiling genially, he continued. "I took a stroll this morning, to see how the peasant folk are getting along these days. It's not well, to say the least. Poverty, hunger, crime..."
"We know all that," the colonial said.
Teng Fei ignored him and kept talking. "As you know, we Fire Sages were out of touch with the world for a long time. When the Firelord so graciously ended our exile," he bowed to Zuko in such a manner that Zuko couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, "I decided to spend years traveling around the country, to shore up my knowledge that was so clearly lacking. As a result, I came to several conclusions regarding our present situation. Does the Firelord wish to hear them?"
Mai moved her eyes just a tiny amount: Danger ahead. Still, he couldn't deny Teng Fei's request politely, which the priest likely knew. "Certainly, Sage."
Teng Fei's smile, if possible, grew even broader. "We have spent the last one hundred years at war. Our entire society—culture, economy, government—became dependent on that war. When it ended, all our institutions lost their mooring. We no longer know who we are or what we are doing. All we have left is a great void."
Mai was jabbing Zuko's side now, but he couldn't do anything as Teng Fei started speaking faster, louder, and more and more passionately. "These reparation payments aren't the only reason our people are in poverty. Our nation is crumbling around us. All of you..." his eyes swept the room, but they lingered most on Zuko, "are only arguing over who gets to devour its carcass."
"How dare you!" the noble shouted, jumping to his feet. The colonial was wringing his hands, while the War Minister slouched back in her chair with a dark expression on her face. Mai's entire body was tense, and Zuko knew she was fingering her knives, preparing to throw one into the priest's throat at a moment's notice.
"If you disagree with my methods," Zuko said as calmly as he could, "why don't you propose some of your own?"
Teng Fei's face lit up, and Zuko cursed his stupidity at falling into the priest's trap. "As the Firelord commands." Turning to the entire room, he recited in a booming voice, "It was the Firelords who condemned us Sages to exile, the Firelords who murdered the dragons, the Firelords who chained our nation to war, and the Firelords who cut those chains without worry about what would happen afterward. I am quite tired of letting the Firelord hold these sham councils and then proceed to decide everything by himself anyway. I propose the Firelord give us some of the power he now greedily keeps to himself."
For a time, everyone stared at the priest in shock.
Then the room erupted.
"Is this some sort of joke?"
Oh, if only. The deceit had worked perfectly, though Katara almost wished it hadn't. Azula and Kalu were crazy enough alone. Together, they managed to make old master Hama (Spirits rest her soul) seem like a little kitten-seal. But, as Azula took a little too much pleasure in pointing out, it was either this or let the South Pole-spanning war trudge on to its inevitable conclusion.
Well, there were probably other options too, but Katara couldn't think of any.
So here she was, having fooled Andor and his alliance of Spirits-know-how-many tribes into thinking they were ambushing her main guerilla force. Instead they faced her.
Alone.
Apparently I'm in quite a hurry to die.
"I will only say this once," Katara said, scanning the featureless snow-covered plain. A light snowfall partly obscuring the sky. "I do not wish to kill anyone. On the contrary, I wish for all of us to finally become one people. If you lay down your weapons and go home, no harm will befall you."
"No offense, Chieftain," Andor said, gesturing with his gigantic battleaxe, "but I don't think you're in a position to make threats here."
His army looked to have somewhere in the range of seven to eight hundred warriors—around the point when adding more troops would just make the outfit unwieldy as a guerilla force. It had many powerful waterbenders with it; not coincidentally, it also contained a large number of graduates from Katara's waterbending academy.
This entire plan depended on Katara: her power, but more importantly, her charisma. Even brief reflection on this fact made her want to curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep. Her old stomach wound was aching more than it had in years.
And she realized something: all of Azula's plans depended almost completely on the Avatar's own power and charisma. She wasn't sure what to think about that. But it did make her feel a little better.
"What use is this war?" she asked, addressing not Andor but the entire enemy army. "What do you gain out of killing and dying by the hands of fellow Southern Water Tribespeople? In order to stand on an equal level with other countries—"
"We've heard all this before," Andor cut her off, voice rough and gravelly, "and it ain't any more convincing now. Kill her!"
Over two hundred waterbenders raised their arms...
And the world became chaos.
The past few months, she had sent messages to all of her former students that were now among her enemies whom she thought she had a chance of winning over. Most of them followed the instructions and met with her. While all of them had agreed to ally with her, Katara had had no idea how many would actually follow through. From what little she could make out, it seemed to be a good number. Katara wanted to think it was because she had convinced them with her unimpeachable argumentation and inspiring ideals, but probably most were just afraid of her—they had firsthand knowledge of just the level of power she possessed.
Oh well, can't have everything.
Something like a hundred powerful waterbenders suddenly turning on their comrades dulled the attack coming Katara's way by a bit, but not by a lot. The snow beneath her snapped open like a whale-shark's maw, and the sides were rushing to crush her. A classic move—either the impact would kill her, or the snow would suffocate her. She could stop it, but she'd have to defeat the combined might of two hundred plus enemy waterbenders to do it.
Luckily, she had two advantages. Number one: it was extremely difficult to coordinate so many benders, especially with the added challenge of mass dissension in the ranks. Number two: she was the most powerful (non-Avatar) waterbender in centuries.
Katara focused on her blood. She could feel it flowing through her body, just like the oceans flowed across the world. Just like the snow was flowing toward her now. Waterbending, at its core, was actually quite simple: sense the flow of the world, then move with it instead of against it.
More feeling than seeing the snow, she spun through the air, and the two giant mounds of snow—twenty times as big as she was—flowed around her, as if they were a river and she was a stone.
As she fell into the gap the enemy's attack had created, she moved her arms forward and sent the mounds of snow crashing into the ground. But they didn't stop. Instead, they kept moving forward, picking up more and more snow as they went along until they resembled tidal waves instead of clumps.
This next part was the challenging bit. All she had told her students was to fight with her "when the time came," for fear of letting any information leak. Which meant that, right now, they had no idea what to do. In the few seconds before the snow reached the enemy army, she saw a large group of her former students breaking away; lowering one finger, she collapsed the part of the snow that was heading for them. The rest continued on its course.
Most of the enemy waterbenders tried to stop the snow, but it was futile; they were trying to block the flow instead moving with it. Some of them tried counterattacking her, but they didn't have a clear view; the few attacks that actually reached her Katara batted away with her legs, keeping her arms constantly forward. A few realized the correct countermeasure was to move themselves upward and crest the snow wave, and then realized that this tactic consigned their comrades to a terrifying death.
This is why you don't bring an army to the South Pole.
Andor's voice rose over the din. "Someone do something!"
The snow tidal waves, over fifty men tall and one hundred wide by the end, crashed into the enemy army.
A sudden wave of fatigue overcame Katara. She almost fainted, but she grit her teeth, clenched her stomach, and stomped the small platform she had bent for herself.
Biting her bottom lip until she drew blood, Katara lowered her arms, concentrated, then raised them again. Twenty giant spheres of snow rose up with her. Many of her students followed her cue and raised snow spheres of their own. Some of the remaining enemy non-benders had begun charging her; some of the remaining benders tried a few half-hearted attacks, but her students were kind enough to stop those for her.
"You can still retreat!" she screamed, stomped her foot, moved her arms down, and sent the spheres crashing into the remains of the army.
The enemy waterbenders probably managed to deflect the spheres a little, but not a lot.
Katara was panting heavily now. Her heart was ramming itself into her ribcage and her vision was fading. It was taking all her willpower just to stay awake. It looked like there were still two hundred or so enemies left. This next part was the most important. If they attacked now...
But her reputation, the defection of her students, and her two displays of power accomplished their purpose. The remaining enemy troops turned tail and ran.
Katara looked around at the ones that remained. She recognized their faces, former students all. Each expression was different. Triumph, fear, despair, apathy...
She called out to the nearest one, a girl (well, woman now) named Hova from the Western Icicle Tribe. "I'm going to need some help getting home," she said, and then finally fainted.
Probably the only reason Haru wasn't sweating now was that he had already sweat out his body's entire supply of water.
With his help, the Avatar had gone to every prominent Earth Kingdom city and village and essentially told them she'd back them in a revolt as long as they did it soon. (Apparently, she was telling the Grand Secretariat this was to lure the rebellious elements into playing their hand early and entrap them; Haru wasn't sure how much of that was deception.) Then when Haru officially declared his village as independent, the avalanche began and the citizens of most other provinces soon forced their leaders to follow.
The response of Ba Sing Se was to muster its army to attack him, personally, as well as send Dai Li agents to assassinate him, as a lesson to the others. And the Avatar said she couldn't help him out openly because she had to keep fooling the Grand Secretariat. And most of the other revolting provinces were too busy worrying about themselves to help him out.
He probably should have seen all that coming.
Perhaps worst of all, of the few provinces that were helping him out, by far the most powerful was...
"Say, Haru, have you ever noticed..."
He was a very powerful and influential Earthbender, but...
"Impenetrable City has something of a double entendre to it?" Bumi asked.
Haru rubbed his temples. "No, I haven't. Thank you very much for the insight."
Bumi tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if the Grand Secretariat has ever been—"
A pair of earthen hands rocketed from the walls of his mayoral office toward Haru's throat. Though they shut Bumi up, so he was actually somewhat thankful for them.
Anyway, Haru brought his own fists up and punched through them, while Bumi made a small hand motion, causing something like an explosion and killing the Dai Li agent behind it.
"They are a parsimonious bunch," Bumi commented as he looked at the agent's body.
"...Do you mean persistent?"
Bumi looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Do I?"
Haru blinked, then closed his eyes to hide his frustration. Bumi was almost a hundred and thirty years old; he had no idea how the old man was still alive. Then again, he probably shouldn't complain.
"Why the long face?" Bumi asked, then tilted his head. "Wait...does that even make sense? It's not like our faces change in length—"
"Ba Sing Se's army is going to arrive tomorrow," Haru interrupted. "Even with your forces, we're outnumbered more than five to one." He sat on his chair and put his head in his hands. "If all of us actually stood together, we might..."
"The lament of every Earth Kingdom leader since time immemorial." Bumi let out a long, pensive sigh—very odd, for him. Haru couldn't be sure, but looking at him, the Mad King actually seemed to have a sane expression on his face. "Don't worry, though. Their attack will fail."
"Well, that's reassuring." The sarcasm tumbled out before Haru could stop it.
Luckily, Bumi just laughed. "Don't worry. The Avatar isn't a fool." The Mad King put a hand on Haru's shoulder; Haru flinched back a bit thoughtlessly. "Stay up late tonight. Something interesting might happen."
Haru gave him a blank expression. "Is there a reason you're being so vague?"
Bumi wagged his finger. "You never know who might be listening."
But you already said something's going to happen... Haru sighed. Talking with Bumi was never helpful.
That said, however much he didn't trust Bumi, the Mad King was his most powerful—truthfully, his only powerful—supporter. And without any other ideas, he stayed up late, looking over maps of his village and trying to figure out some way to delay the inevitable.
Finally, at an unholy hour of the night, he heard a very faint knock at his door. Haru stood up slowly. He half-expected this was just another prank of Bumi's...but would even the Mad King do that when they were all about to die in a few hours?
...Actually, yes. Still though, he allowed himself a measure of optimism as he unlocked the door.
Haru heard a loud crash, then felt a sharp pain in his chest. Before he knew it, he was flying across the room and landed in a mangled heap on the ground.
Looking up, his vision blurry, he saw a warhammer through the wreckage of his wooden door—likely the cause of the pain and the flying. And the person holding it...
Crap.
Was General Chen, one of the Council of Five and the man who was leading the assault against him.
Haru rolled to the side, ignoring the pain in his chest. He had endured much worse on the Fire Nation prison ship. He managed to avoid a rock Chen sent at him, but lost his footing when the General slammed his warhammer into the ground, making the earth shake. Panicked, he earthbent himself a hole in the wall and scrambled outside. He had to find—
Eight Dai Li agents were standing outside his house.
As they pointed their stone-cloaked hands at him, the most Haru could muster was a Well, that's that then.
Gritting his teeth, he stomped his foot hard and raised up a giant rock. At least he would go out figh—
A series of loud squelches filled the nighttime air. The boulder Haru had bent fell to the ground with a crash.
All the Dai Li agents were now suspended in the air, earthen spikes sticking out of their chests, bent from the ground beneath them.
His mouth moved, but no words came out.
"Don't get all comatose on me now," a voice said from his side.
Haru looked in its direction, and yet again, he could barely form coherent thoughts through his shock.
The Avatar was the most famous person in the world, but her assistant/friend/something, usually known as the Blind Bandit, was rather famous herself.
"You did this?" he croaked.
An odd flicker of guilt passed across the Blind Bandit's face, but it quickly regained its former slack-jawed arrogance. "Come on. I was only able to kill these guys 'cause you distracted them. There are still plenty out there."
The Blind Bandit started running. With little else to do, Haru followed her.
"Does this mean the Avatar is—"
"Azula's off in the Fire Nation. She doesn't want any of her own fingerprints on this." The Blind Bandit's voice, businesslike until now, took on an undertone of annoyance when she then said, "I'm the one who takes care of her clandestine affairs, as it were. Easier to maintain plausible deniability."
"What exactly is going on, then?"
"Watch out!" the Blind Bandit shouted. Looking at where she was pointing, he saw a group of Dai Li agents perched on the wall of a house.
The Blind Bandit stomped the ground, but the Dai Li leapt off the wall and shot their stone hands at them. Haru rolled out of the way—
And saw the Blind Bandit pinned to the ground by the stone hands. They had slammed onto her ankles, wrists, and torso, preventing her from moving.
Why...? Realization hit him with a brick. Oh right. If they're in the air, she can't...
The ten or so Dai Li agents landed light as a feather and bent themselves another pair of stone gloves. Haru backed up, trying wildly to think of something, anything to do.
A loud shriek slashed through the air. Its source was the Blind Bandit, who bellowed like a beast from the Yellow Springs as she slammed her head hard against the ground. The impact was so loud Haru wondered for a brief second if she had committed suicide before he saw the stone hands gripping her body fly into the air.
The Blind Bandit had earthbent with her head.
The Dai Li agents were good—they jumped into the air as soon as she was free. But Haru was better. He had already bent up a boulder, and sent it flying at the nearest Dai Li. You can't dodge in the air, and the agent was too distracted by the Blind Bandit to stop the boulder from slamming into him.
One down, he thought, as he suddenly became aware of sweat falling from his body like a waterfall.
The other Dai Li agents were focused on the Blind Bandit and sent all their attacks at her. But Haru didn't have time to think about that. Gritting his teeth as his chest burned, he pulled up another rock and aimed it at a second agent. The agent managed to put his hand up to block in time, except Haru shifted its direction at the last moment and sent it slamming into the man's chest instead.
He grinned in spite of himself. He might not be a monster like the Blind Bandit or the Mad King, but he wasn't too shabby if he did say so himself.
His self-congratulation was soon ruined as something slammed into the back of his head.
Haru collapsed face-first into the ground. His nose broke with a snap and he could almost feel his brain slam into the back of his skull. His head burned like it had been engulfed in flame, and then he heard a Dai Li agent land right behind him and felt a layer of rock around his neck. In one millisecond, the Dai Li agent would squeeze his throat into pulp.
His hands shot up and grabbed the stone glove. Maybe the agent was surprised he could still move, or maybe Haru was just more powerful than him. Either way, he pressed and earthbent the glove to squeeze the agent's hand into pulp instead. As the man screamed in agony, Haru bent his fingers into the earth, pulled up a slab of rock, and in one clean motion stood up and slammed the rock into the Dai Li agent's temple. He crumpled to the ground.
That surprise attack had hurt, but the Fire Nation had done far, far worse. This pain was nothing compared to watching his father die of exhaustion on board that Tian-forsaken ship.
His head was pounding, blood was pouring out of the remains of his nose, but his vision was clearer than ever. The Blind Bandit's scream should have alerted people that something was wrong. All he had to do was hold out until reinforcements arrived.
That reminds me. He looked for the Blind Bandit, and figured she was inside that giant earth cocoon that was suddenly there. The other Dai Li agents looked to have their hands full avoiding the giant spikes she bent out of the ground. Two of them had already been impaled. But three of the others jumped into the air, one bending an opening in her protection and the other two sending their stone gloves at it.
Haru felt blood mingling with sweat as both trickled down his neck. But that didn't matter.
He didn't have time to block their attack, but the Blind Bandit could handle herself. Instead, he kneeled and slammed his fists into the ground, easily ignoring the pain. The greater control he had with his hands as opposed to his feet permitted him to draw fourteen rocks out of the ground, all of them the size of his head.
The Dai Li were very good at chi control, sneak attacks, and assassination. What they were not good at was pure, brute force.
With a huge sweep of his arms, he sent all the rocks at the three Dai Li agents. They were in the air so they couldn't dodge, and they didn't have the power to deflect all of them. They did take a defensive stance, but guarding your head with your arms really doesn't make a difference when giant rocks slam into your body at high speed. All three of them fell to the ground and didn't move.
Panting, Haru looked around wildly, trying to find another target. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some stone hands flying at him. He managed to sweep them aside, only to feel another two clamp onto his back.
Haru fell to his knees. He grabbed onto the hands, but either this Dai Li was more powerful than the last or he was weaker—he stopped them from crushing him, but he couldn't get them off. He looked up and saw a Dai Li agent a few bu away, probably the one whose attack Haru had deflected, bend himself a new set of stone hands.
Panic gripped Haru surer than the earthen gloves. If he let go of the ones around his torso, they'd crush him. If he didn't, the agent in front of him would kill him. What could he...?
He remembered the feat the Blind Bandit had pulled, back when she was pinned.
Better than nothing.
Haru shut his eyes, tried to remember those things his father had told him about feeling the chi of the earth, dipped his head, then jerked it upward hard enough to feel his neck crack a little.
He opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, a boulder that had not been there before was floating in the air. The Dai Li agent in front of him was surprised, too. Smiling, Haru shot his head back down, and the boulder flew at the agent. Still in a state of shock, the Dai Li just stood there as the huge mass of rock slammed into him—then kept moving, carrying him into the wall behind him.
Haru was breathing very heavily now. That attack had taken a lot out of him. Now for the—
Crap! He had taken his attention away from the stone hands around his torso, if only for a second. He grasped at them wildly—
Only to discover they weren't there anymore.
He looked down, dumbfounded. They were lying lifelessly on the ground. He looked behind him, only to be struck even more dumbfounded.
The Dai Li agent was sprawled face-down in the dirt, blood seeping out of his head. Standing over him with a bloody warhammer was General Chen.
"Sorry for attacking you earlier," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I had to make these bastards think I was on their side." He held a hand out to Haru. "Need help getting up?"
Without really thinking about it, Haru took his hand and let himself get pulled to his feet.
"Seems the Blind Bandit has taken out the others in this area," Chen said, jerking his head. Haru spared it a quick glance to see that indeed, all the Dai Li agents he could see were either impaled by a spike or collapsed on the ground. "Bumi has killed a lot of them as well. The Grand Secretariat went all-out here, but we're probably almost finished now. Still, don't let your guard down."
Haru nodded. "Um...why are you...?"
"Helping you out?" A half-kind, half-malicious grin spread across Chen's face. "I betray the Capital and save your ass. In exchange, I'm the boss of everything north of Omashu and west of Ba Sing Se."
His mind stretched in all directions and twisted in on itself. Depending on how you interpreted that, he was asking for almost half the Earth Kingdom, including Haru's own village. How could he possibly—
"If you refuse," Chen said, heaving his warhammer, "I'll kill you."
Haru looked at the bloody hammer. He was distinctly aware that he barely had the strength to stand right now. "It's a deal," he heard himself say.
Chen's smile became rather more kindly. "Glad we have an understanding."
"The Avatar has arrived!" someone shouted. Zuko briefly wondered whose job it was to select these announcers, and whether or not they enjoyed it. Not for the first time, he reflected on how little he really knew about the sprawling organization he nominally headed.
Anything was better than thinking of what he was about to do.
After Teng Fei the Fire Sage's speech, the council chamber had devolved into such chaos that Zuko couldn't remember precisely what happened. At some point in the inferno of arguments, though, someone—probably the colonial—suggested they take the dispute to the Avatar. The others were reluctant at first, considering she was his sister (few understood the extent to which Azula separated the personal from the political), but since the alternative was rapidly looking to be armed revolution Teng Fei eventually acquiesced, with one condition: the dispute be aired publicly, for any Fire Nation citizen to see. Everyone else soon fell in line.
So here they were, in the biggest public square in the Fire Nation. The "debate" had been announced months in advance, and there were so many spectators that they were pressed together into a sea of humanity. Nothing like this had happened before in Fire Nation history, after all.
And that's why I didn't want to think about this. He wished Mai and his daughters were with him, but since this was supposed to be a debate between him and Teng Fei only, his family was in the front stands with the other important people.
Azula soon appeared out of the crowd. In the years since their father's...defeat, she had slowly but surely shed the appearance of Fire Nation nobility. The process had finally reached its culmination: her hair was short and disheveled, her clothing a plain brown tunic and pants (with bare feet), and even her skin had tanned to a noticeably darker hue. The only outward sign of refinement anywhere on her now was the black, silken, ruby-inlaid cloth covering her eyes.
Of course, no matter what, she was still the Avatar. Few dared gossip about it.
Her walk, at least, was the same; she virtually stalked up to the raised dais at the front of the square and sat upon the giant chair. With a jolt, Zuko recalled that their father had sat there during Azula's fateful master's duel, the day when so much suddenly ended. Azula took a few seconds to sit silently with a contemplative look on her face, then said, "We all know why we're here, so let's skip the pleasantries. Firelord Zuko, you go first."
Zuko stood up and walked to the center of the square, moving exactly as he had practiced with Mai so many times. He and his 'opponent' Teng Fei were technically addressing the Avatar, but everyone knew the real goal was convincing the gathered audience. He turned, faced Azula, and recited his speech from muscle memory gained through thousands of practices.
"For thousands of years, the Fire Nation has been ruled by the children of the Sun Spirit Amaterasu. I will not pretend that our rule has always been prosperous. Just as there are good and bad peasants, merchants, soldiers, and nobles, there have been both good and bad Firelords. Some have provided for our people while maintaining peace with our neighbors, while others have not. Nevertheless, until now, nobody has questioned our right to rule. Does Teng Fei believe he was the first one smart or brave enough to do so?
"No, the answer is that he's the first one to forget a basic truth. While Firelords are not perfect, we are far more qualified to rule than those from any other class. It is not just that the blood of Amaterasu runs through our veins. We learn how to rule from the day we're born. Just as peasants teach their children to farm rice and merchants teach their children to trade, Firelords teach our children to govern. We are the only ones who can rule because we are the only ones who know how.
"Furthermore, if Teng Fei succeeds in tearing down the Firelords, who will he replace us with? If anyone can rule, no matter their birthright, everyone will want to rule. The result would be civil war. The Fire Sages would fight the nobles would fight the military. The ones who suffer would, as always, be the peasants. Our choice is not between government under the Firelords and government under someone else. It is between government under the Firelords and no government at all.
"The blood of Amaterasu runs strong in some members of our family and weak in others. But it, and it alone, bestows the authority to command our great nation. The line of Amaterasu, and us alone, possess the divine right to rule!"
With that Zuko brought his speech to its end, punctuated with a shout and a clenched fist. A deafening noise arose from the audience, though it was hard to tell if it was of approval or disapproval. He thought it sounded like approval, but then again he probably would.
Well, it doesn't really matter, he reflected as he walked back to his seat, back rigid and expression showing only steely defiance. The debate had only just begun. Next Teng Fei would give his opening statements, then they'd try to rebut each other, then Azula would question them...
He mentally slapped himself. Just take things one step at a time.
As he sat down, Teng Fei stood up. The monk bowed to the audience on all four sides, gave one deep bow to the Avatar, stood up, and opened his mouth.
"Don't bother, monk," Azula said, cutting him off with a sweep of her hand. "This debate is over."
The entire square, thousands upon thousands of people, was dead silent.
Teng Fei was the first to speak. "B-but that's...!" he stuttered. "Avatar, you can't—"
"Yes I can." She hopped out of the chair onto her feet. "I see no need to continue. I found Firelord Zuko's arguments thoroughly unconvincing, and so decide in favor of Master Teng Fei."
The square remained silent for a few more seconds. Then a sound unlike anything Zuko had heard before slammed into his ears. Thousands of people were climbing over each other, every one screaming something different. All Zuko could think was that a riot was about to start—
A peal of thunder pierced through the din. A huge forked lightning bolt, bigger than the royal palace, rose into the heavens.
As the ringing in Zuko's ears slowly died down, he became aware that he couldn't move. Looking down, he saw it was because the ground under his feet had crept upward and encased his entire lower body in solid rock. A quick look around revealed everyone else in the square was the same way.
Except for one.
The Avatar's eye covering was off, but her sockets weren't empty. They were filled with a blinding white light.
"Zuko is not a god," she said, wind carrying her voice with utmost clarity. "The only god here is me."
Then, all at once, the sense that he was looking at something not of this world, something far beyond his comprehension, disappeared. The light died down as his sister took her eye covering out of her pocket and tied it around her head. She was back to her usual self. Which, admittedly, was still terrifying. And half his body was still encased in rock.
"Before today, both Zuko and Teng Fei sent me letters outlining their major points. Teng Fei's included a rather impressively detailed account of what kind of government system he wants to replace the Firelord's rule with. I will ignore all of it and propose my own system.
"New laws will be made and old laws annulled by a gathering of the nobles. A majority of votes is needed for either. The Firelord will still be the one who runs the government, but he—or she—must obey the dictates the nobles pass. The ones who ensure this will be the Fire Sages, who can annul the Firelord's power by a...let's say three-quarters vote. In this event, the Firelord's powers will become purely ceremonial and the nobles will choose one among their number to be the new head of government. However, the Fire Sages will be able to restore the old Firelord at any time through a majority vote. The military gets no additional power whatsoever. I will write up these new policies and put them in every hamlet in the Fire Nation so everyone knows them by heart.
"Work out the details yourselves, because I frankly can't be bothered."
Her head turned in every direction, as if she were daring someone to raise their voice in protest. Needless to say, no one did.
Azula turned her face to Zuko. He had no idea what to do. But he got the feeling he didn't really have a choice in the matter.
"So Azula, I hear someone tried to kill my sister again."
Azula frowned. She didn't appreciate the accusing tone in Sokka's voice. He was pretty full of himself for being Arnook's heir and all, but he often seemed to think she could control the entire world. "You heard right."
"Is she unharmed?" Yue asked from Azula's other side.
"From what I understand." The tension in the air was palpable—mostly from Sokka's side. She shrugged. "Look, unifying people who've been fighting for millennia isn't easy."
"I thought that was why you had her take on an entire army by herself," Sokka said, his tone even darker than before.
"That's why I suggested she take on an entire army by herself," Azula amended. "It had the intended effect of terrifying everyone else, but I suppose order resting solely on fear doesn't last very long. She's given her chief rivals powerful positions in the new government, but even so I wouldn't be surprised if there was a revolt in a few years or decades."
Sokka didn't seem convinced. But Yue said, "I believe in my sister-in-law. If anyone can do this, she can." The implied critique (Do you not have faith in your sister?) succeeded in calming him, at least a little bit.
Well, I suspect Kalu and Bato are the ones in charge of the political side of things, Azula thought, but that was fine. Katara's role was to use her connections, power, and charisma to convince as many people as possible to follow her, and she was doing a pretty good job at it. As long as she got a husband soon, at least; people were already starting to worry about the lack of an heir. Competently doing the role you're assigned is really all anyone could be expected to do. Whether or not that's a good thing.
"Incidentally, Avatar," Yue said, likely trying to move the conversation away from Katara, which Azula was quite grateful for, "I hear the situation in the Earth Kingdom—or should I say Earth Kingdoms now?—has settled down somewhat."
Azula considered that. "I suppose that's true. Ba Sing Se gave up when half their army and two of the Council of Five defected, but nobody really knows what the borders of the new countries will be and who'll run them." She shrugged again. "Well, Omashu's going to gobble up a fair amount, and the Bei Fongs have been wanting to get revenge for losing their land in the former colonies. So they'll probably end up the big winners. Others bit off more than they can chew," she briefly thought of her 'friend' General Chen, "and they'll pay for their mistakes sooner or later. But it'll be what it'll be."
"Really? You're not going to intervene?" Sokka said, voice laden with sarcasm. Apparently he was still in a bad mood.
"I will only intervene if it seems like the situation will develop into full-scale war," Azula said impatiently, "and I'm afraid I can't give you the details about that."
"If you say so," Sokka said, clearly not believing her. Well, whatever, she thought.
After a minute of uncomfortable silence, Yue cleared her throat. "We recently received reports about the situation in the Fire Nation."
This'll be interesting. "And?"
"I was somewhat…surprised by the actions you took," Yue said hesitantly, as if afraid Azula would take on the Avatar State right then and there if she perceived any insult.
Azula thought for a bit about what to say. "The entire situation was a clusterf—mess of gigantic proportions. No matter what I did, I'd piss off half the country. So I just did what felt right."
That wasn't even really a lie.
"You really think it'll work out?" Sokka asked. Azula did a double-take; as far as she could tell, he wasn't asking a rhetorical question, but was honestly curious. Huh.
"Well, nobody in power now has the courage to oppose me." Especially since I'm the only reason they haven't gotten in trouble for missing their reparation payments, she might have added, but of course Sokka and Yue knew that and she didn't feel like getting into another argument about it with them. "As for the peasants, I suspect most of them don't really care who's in charge as long as they're not starving to death. I haven't really solved the underlying issues, I realize, but the system can always change again if those become overpowering."
"You don't think that's a bad thing?" The accusatory tone in Sokka's voice was back, but it was different from last time. It was more like they were engaging in a debate, now. "You've set the precedent for changing the foundations of government. What's to stop that from happening every few years? Won't that cause chaos?"
"Everything has its risks," she said evenly. "I can imagine the nobles or military deciding they deserve more power and starting some trouble." Teng Fei isn't entirely happy either. "And maybe even the peasants will decide they should have some say in things too. Since the beginning the Fire Nation's been ruled by the Firelords, so nobody really knows what'll happen now. Even if the country burns down though, I'll be there to help rebuild from the ashes."
Before Sokka could respond, the ceremony finally commenced. Someone announced the presence of every important Northern Water Tribe official there (and the Avatar), and then Arnook began his speech.
"The Hundred Years War and its aftermath has changed much," he said, his voice weathered with old age yet still strong enough to carry across the entire square. "It gave my daughter a husband and myself a son, but it took away many other husbands, sons, and fathers. It revealed in stark terms our frayed relations with other countries, even our sister tribes in the South. But most of all, it forced us to confront how the rest of the world saw us.
"This city was constructed hundreds of years ago, to celebrate our unification as one tribe. We've never seen the need for kings, large governments, and extensive territory. We were proud of our heritage, proud of the fact that all our sons know how to hunt, craft, and fight when the average foreigner has trouble even wielding a sword. We knew they thought of us as uncivilized barbarians, and we didn't care.
"But the War made us see the folly of that way of thinking. The Fire Nation didn't attack us for over seventy years. We thought that was because we were strong, but we were wrong; it was because we were weak. We would have been wiped out sixteen years ago, were it not for the Avatar."
For a few seconds, Azula knew the eyes of everyone present were on her. She kept up an impassive expression.
"We are still proud of our history, and rightfully so. We are still proud of our culture, and rightfully so. But we cannot ignore the rest of the world any longer. We are still weaker than our neighbors. We can become stronger, but only if we want to—only if we are willing to make the necessary sacrifices to do so. It will be a very long process, but a necessary one. As always, actions are far more difficult than words, but words can be just as important.
"Therefore, as Chieftain of the Northern Water Tribe, I gratefully put to rest our old name. Starting today, we will be known as the Water Empire!" A raucous cheer greeted him as every Northern Water Tribe citizen present, or she should probably say Water Empire citizen now, screamed in celebration.
An empire of a wasteland, with just a few cities to its name, Azula thought to herself. But maybe she shouldn't be so harsh. Just like everyone else, they were trying to take charge of their own destiny. At least they were doing it without killing anyone. So far.
It'll be what it'll be. There was only so much one could do.
End of Chapter 11
Author's Notes: If you didn't remember, "Impenetrable City" is the translation the show gave for "Ba Sing Se." The Yellow Springs, at least according to the internet, is a place in ancient Chinese mythology similar to Hell. As a reminder, Tian was basically the chief god of Imperial China. A bu is a unit of length in ancient China; its precise length varied but was usually around one meter.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!