WiltingDaises94: Happy February, everybody! So, before writing this chapter I forced myself to sit down and think, and I can officially say I know where the rest of this story is going (and the approximate number of chapters it will take me to get there). I've got a couple chapters that need fleshing out, of course, but the basic trajectory is ready to go.

I'm glad to hear that you all enjoyed last chapter's shift in perspective, but as this story is Zutarian, we're back with Zuko this chapter. Also, prepare for the introduction of a character you heard about a long time ago. Enjoy!

Chapter 21

The palace is buzzing like an angry, demented beehive, anxious to meet the demands of the Midsummer Festival. Everywhere one looks, servants are bustling, maids flitting from room to room brandishing their cleaning equipment, butchers preparing massive quantities of meat to deliver to the already frantic cooks.

The Festival has begun, and, as always, the days leading up to the Dance of Streets are suffocating. I've been sitting through audience after audience, and I'm almost certain my rear is growing attached to my throne.

All the minor nobles are gathering for the occasion, and that has meant endless rounds of greetings; presentation and exchange of gifts; a little intrigue with the Lady Yan; frankly, the whole business is exhausting, and I'm less than a moment from ordering everyone out of the way and returning to my apartments.

The stress of the Festival is throwing my mind into chaos, and I struggle to concentrate, keep myself in check. 'She is working as fast as her devious intentions allow her,' I remind myself at least once an hour. 'Patience.'

But it gnaws at me. Secretly, Ty Lee is getting far too much pleasure out of her task, and the bitch is absolutely milking it for all its worth. For all her talent in the bedroom, I'd never have Ty Lee for a queen; she's nimble and intelligent, but slippery as an eel and self interested as a sunbathing kitten.

"This must be it," Ty Lee says, her tone serious. "The plant will need some refining to unleash its best properties, and you'll want it in powder form, if I don't miss my guess."

"Why?" I question, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to try and decipher the mystery of her messy workspace.

Her eyes hold a flash of contempt, but she keeps the scoffing to herself. "Considering you put the Avatar into his current state with a powdered substance, the reversal should be applied via the same medium."

"Of course." I mentally berate myself, but there's little I can do. Ty Lee will write it off as my own poor memory; she doesn't know that Azula is the one who invented and threw the powder, not I. And provided I'm careful enough, she never will.

"Anyway," she continues, "I knew the plant was potent, but as our resident botanical expert is the same sluggish fool who works in my apartments, I had a small, insubstantial conversation with him."

"Spare me the scorn, Ty Lee," I growl exasperatedly. "I've certainly had enough whining for the time being, what with the damned Festival stealing all my time." I feel my nostrils flare and try to reign in my short temper. "Now, what did the old man tell you?"

Ty Lee rolls her eyes and begins sorting through the materials on her crowded desktop. "He told me that the leaves are very poor at retaining water once detached from the root." She stretches gracefully and elongates her back, reaching for something. "Here it is."

"So?" I prod, crossing my arms.

Ty Lee smirks. "So, Your Royal Highness, I left a leaf out on one of the crystals overnight. And..." She opens her hand and offers me the specimen.

I take it from her, curiosity overriding my disgust. Ty Lee spent months developing a method of freezing beetles into crystals similar to the Avatar's prison. It is unfortunate that I should have to touch such vermin, even covered, but as I examine the crystal I realize there is an entire segment that's been melted off.

"It worked like a charm." Ty Lee is positively grinning now. "The liquid, once released, simply ate away at the crystal in no time at all."

I nod. "Excellent." My eyes are bright and I stare fixedly at the deformed crystal."How soon can you bring me a full bottle dose?"

Ty Lee drums her fingers on the desk. "Well," she says slowly, "I'll need time for refining of course… and I should run some more trials… and I'l need to work the liquid into a different form... mm, I should be able to bring you the finished product…" she calculates, "early evening on the day of the Dance of Streets."

I smile crookedly. "Perfect." I hold out my hand and begin to flame the crystal, watching as the imitation begins to melt. The frozen beetle begins to squirm as the heat revives it, and in moments its legs are twitching furiously.

Ty Lee raises her eyebrows at the display, but doesn't comment. "I'll bring it to you then," she says quietly. "As soon as it's finished."

"Excellent." I watch the beetle disintegrate in a glorious mass of writhing limbs, until my hand is empty. I feel a surge of energy, strange and unpredictable, and brush off my hands. "Excellent."

I grip the armrests of my throne. Everything is going according to my plans: Ty Lee is nearly finished with my powder, the Avatar has stayed successfully out of my dreams, and Katara is back.

That does bring my pleasure among all this nonsense. The subtle shift has occurred; I can see it behind her eyes. Her old kick, that precious, temperamental fighting spirit – it's back. Truly brilliant; every time I see her I my chambers I have to stop myself from grinning like a fool.

All is coming to a head at once. By the end of the week the Avatar will be dead and Katara will finally be broken.

And, I remind myself, the week after that those pesky Earth Kingdom rebels will arrive.

For all my exhaustion and frustration, I really could clap my hands and do a small dance. Everything I want is falling into place, in order. Soon enough there will be nothing standing between me and becoming the most powerful bender in the world.

I grin.

I do love to win.

"Majesty?" A tall, stern guard enters the room and bows. "Lord Jo Kai Me has arrived with his eldest son. They refuse to refresh themselves and request an immediate audience with Your Highness." He pauses, trying to remember the entire message. "His Lordship brings news of the Earth Kingdom prisoners."

I nod, my attention caught. "Very well. I shall grant them an audience; send in His Lordship."

"At once, Majesty." The guard bows and is gone.

I settle in my throne, straightening my back and fixing wrinkles out of my robes. I've been interested in meeting Lord Jo Kai Me, a man whose reputation as a bender precedes him, and an obviously valuable ally.

What sort of man, I wonder, would train his own children to be a flawless, massacring machine? Someone with the military prestige and ability, of course, but there has to be a hardness there, a desire for perfection.

I grimace a bit, imagining the Lord Jo Kai Me to be a bit too much like my father for comfort. Ozai was powerful, but ruthless, and although I had a grudging respect for the man as a bender, I never loved my father. He was cruel to his wife, his children, his brother… and his politics lacked all innovation.

Grudgingly, I can admit to understanding what my father was doing with the "violence and fear" strategy, and a small part of me can't help but imitate the style from time to time. Judge me if you will, but reign of terror has its appeals – absolute control, an unparalleled feeling invincibility – and certain moral unsteadiness can be useful tool.

But I always knew there was more he could have done.

I used to talk politics with Iroh. My uncle knew much more about ruling a country than my father; unfortunately he was too soft to ever take the crown.

It was Iroh's idea to establish the Air Temples as neutral territory. The politics behind the final execution were mine; creating a spiritual center for those wishing to retire from the world was never high on my list of priorities – at least, until I had a reason to do so.

It is true, I muse, that Iroh had a good head for international relations. He connected with other people far better than I ever have; diplomacy was a skill I had to teach myself. Politics I can handle, but inter-personal relations are not my strong point. Therefore, as a small homage to my uncle's inspiration, I've set in motion several of his more useful innovations.

I frown a bit.

And conversely, for purposes of revenge, I've mixed it with a carefully controlled version of my father's ferocity.

However, before I have time to relive that particular betrayal, the doors to the audience hall swing open, and in walk two men: Lord Jo Kai Mei and (presumably) his son.

Although His Lordship does not look nearly as old as he is, it is impossible not to recognize him. Everything from his gait to the snap of his robes behind him radiates power and decisiveness, and it almost chafes at me, a prickly feeling running up my spine at the grim slant of his mouth.

The son is harder to read, wearing the same robes as his father, but a far more inscrutable expression. His hand is clasped tightly on the sword hanging from his belt, and I immediately assume he is the son trained to wield the traditional, single-handed straight sword. There is a tension in his shoulders that suggests years of attention; the man is like a loaded trap, ready to lash out on a moment's notice.

"Your Majesty." The Lord and his son drop simultaneous bows and I am surprisingly entertained by how similar their mannerisms are. There's an odd reassurance in that; nothing in me ever seemed to resemble my father.

"My Lord Jo Kai Mei," I reply, nodding to the son. No rule of etiquette dictates that I must address him by name (which is fortunate, considering I don't know his name). Having been in that position myself, I know what his job is as the eldest son: to stand by respectfully and listen. "Welcome to the Illustrious Fire Nation; it is our pleasure to receive you as an ally and friend."

Lord Jo Kai Mei makes a tight motion with his mouth that might be a smile; I can tell he's appraising me behind his disturbingly indecipherable eyes. "It is our honor to be sent as representatives of our homeland," he says diplomatically, "and to bring Your Highness news from King Lho, 53rd Ruler of the Mighty Earth Kingdom."

"Indeed." I lean on the arm of my throne, raising my eyebrows. "I hear you have news of my prisoners."

Lord Jo Kai Mei nods and signals to his son, who relaxes his stance. "Regarding your prisoners, then," he agrees tacitly. "I am afraid they will be arriving slightly ahead of the schedule Your Majesty was told to expect."

"What?" I ask sharply, scowling.

The Lord is solid as a rock. "The retinue of guards sent along with the wagon was eager to please Your Majesty. It seems they have herded the prisoners more…forcefully… than they had need to." He is unsurprisingly dispassionate at the mistreatment of other Earth Kingdom nationals.

"And when," I ask quietly, huffing out my nose, "are you anticipating their arrival?"

Lord Jo Kai Mei is perfectly frank. "They will be here," he replies, "almost two weeks in advance. This is what my son and I rode ahead to inform you of." His body shifts very subtly into a defensive position. "I would expect the prisoners to arrive in roughly six days."

Excellent, a voice in my head hisses as I grit my teeth. Just in time for the Dance of Streets.

WD94: Oh so much going on. I love me some good politics. And as much as I adore Zuko - can we say daddy issues?

Iroh, oh Iroh, oh what have you done? I suppose you'll have to wait and find out, but I thought you all might like the little heads up.