A/N: Longest chapter yet. Not counting the A/N's, I think we were at like 9.5k words here, which will push us over the 100k word mark! Hooray!
This will take the place of the Monday update. I will likely be extremely busy this week, so although Chapter XIX (19) is almost fully written, I'll still wait until Friday to post so that I can have some time to write out 20 and 21 from the outline and plot a little further ahead.
nerdwarf: Thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy.
Nyx Arae: More Sokkla here moments here. Can't resist. But they also serve a purpose, driving their motivations. There's a bit of unrelated seriousness to get out of the way first. Also, am thinking of crossposting to AO3, it's saved as a draft in my account there, same username.
SOKKLAFIL: I'm glad! Here's another rapid update, and writing Iroh is so much fun in this canon divergence.
Therecklessone: you're right, and you nailed the thing about the crossroads. I've decided the direction I think I'm going to take, and I hope it's as enjoyable for all of you to read as it was for me to develop it.
Guest: Yeah, this was the one thing I felt I almost made a little too OOC for Azula, but bless her, she's trying to be better.
Redshoulder85: Good analysis of Azula and Aang's relationship. Aang is the ultimate forgiver, but can Azula really forgive herself? That's going to be a defining question.
Guest: Thank you! Worldbuilding is so much fun. Speaking of...
Javier: Thank you! Not going to lie, GoT and some other fandoms were a huge influence on how this turned out.
Bilbo'sbags: Azula not being evil anymore has left a huge void on Team Bad Guys... but I think this chapter will do a good job of filling the void she left behind.
Any reviewers I may have missed: Thank you all for reading! Your kind words and your observations are nothing but helpful and encouraging.
Chapter XVIII: An Ideal
"What is the color of fire?" rasped the voice.
"Sanguine, my brother," came the answer.
"Hail the sacred flame."
"Hail the children of Agni."
The metal doors creaked open, the guardians of the gate being evidently satisfied in the answer they had received to their question. A hooded man stepped into the dim light of a stone room, the flames on the torches ensconced upon the wall flickering against the billowy black shroud of his coverings. Only when he raised his head, letting the light shine on his face, could one see that he bore a mask, painted black, featuring a grotesque grimace and two slits for a nose. Ochre eyes lazily scanned the surroundings through two openings in the mask. They raked past the aged gatekeeper, whose long, white beard flowed from behind his significantly less ornate mask, and stopped when they found something to latch onto – the figure of a tall person, though undeniably a woman, as the languid curves seemed to hint to the imagination. The other was also similarly cloaked and hooded, bearing a red mask, no less grotesque than that of her compatriot's.
"Lady Jing," he grunted.
"Commander Zhao. Always a pleasure," she returned. Zhao did his best to hide a lustful smile behind his mask – the woman's honeyed voice, smooth as silk and soft like butter, never failed to arouse his inner flames. It was a short, albeit strong, struggle to subdue them. Lady Jing was no maiden or damsel – she knew her allure and wielded it like a powerful weapon in the game of the Fire Nation's politics. Her climb along the ladder had left many used and ruined men in its wake. Zhao did not plan on being one of them.
"It's actually Commodore, now."
"I see they've entrusted you with more than one ship," she said. It was phrased as a compliment, but like everything else with Jing, it was double sided. Zhao didn't miss the other side, easily a rebuke or an insult rather than an acknowledgment of honor.
"Three in fact. I've been stationed near Pohuai, supporting Shinu's land occupation, though I've been ordered closer to home as of late."
"Mhm. So my husband tells me. Walk with me, Commodore. Almost everyone is present, now."
"Of course, my lady." He suppressed yet another smile as he took Jing's arm, not missing how she allowed his hand to graze her waist a little more than was appropriate among the polite interactions of the nobility. Their boots clacked along the stone of the room as Zhao stepped forward to open a large oaken door for Jing, leading into a long hallway similarly awash in the dim orange generated by torches.
As they walked down the hallways, Zhao was the first to break the silence.
"Do you know why we've been called?"
"I don't. Though the message stressed great urgency."
"The whole Council? It has been a while. The last time I even saw Lord Oda was a council meeting."
"Your first, if I recall rightly, Commodore."
Zhao laughed. "You recall rightly, my lady. The position was awarded when I was elevated to Commander after I routed-"
"The Northern Water Tribe's navy as they attempted to launch a surprise raid on the Boiling Rock, I remember. My husband was there."
"Yes, and a finer compatriot I could not have asked for, Lady Jing. Do pass my compliments onto the Admiral when you next see him. I should very much like to spend time with my old friend from the Naval Academy."
"You are most welcome at our home next time you find yourself in Yu Dao, Commodore. I would be very pleased to… host you within my walls."
The innuendo was not lost on Zhao, but he knew the invitation was tinged with dangerous poison, like the rest of the Lady's charms. Luckily, it didn't have time to settle in his mind; they arrived at the end of the dim hallway, and Zhao graciously opened the door for the lady, stepping into the chamber after her.
The room he entered was circular, made of darkened stone, with ornate carvings and murals on the smooth wall. The art showed the history of the Fire Nation as it should have been - dominant, of singular purpose, and elevated above all the rest of the inferiors who dared walk and breathe on this Earth as if they were fit to share it with the glory of the Children of Agni. Zhao always loved this room - it felt powerful and foreboding, and it suited the cause to which its occupants had dedicated themselves to. Like the throne room of the Palace in Caldera City, the walls were lit with flames, powered by the master of this room.
He took his seat at a circular table in the middle of the room. All the chairs were equal, save for one directly across from Zhao. It was far more ornate, larger, with two dragons made of bronze coiling around the headrest. It lay empty, though every other seat was now filled. He greeted the man next to him - it had been several months since he'd spoken to General Hojo. They made small talk until a pair of doors on the opposite side of the room, across from where Zhao and Lady Jing had made their entrance, creaked open. All the seated people stood up at rapt attention.
Three figures walked through - two were bodyguards, armed to the teeth, with black and red helms that were plumed with wings and adorned with dragon's heads on their crests. Their armor bore the insignia - a small red circle within a large red ring, which was adorned with 11 spikes of equal length. Only the twelfth spike, the head, was longer than the others. Zhao fingered the armband he wore under his cloak, bearing the same insignia - the Red Sun.
It was the man at the head of the two bodyguards that caught the most attention. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his walk was that of a powerful warrior - although Zhao never failed to notice the slightest hint of a limp on his left foot, as if he was compensating for an injury past. The man wore ornate black and red robes, which were inlaid with gold filigree on the fringes and hem. His mask was surprisingly simple - it was a smooth white one with two large holes for his eyes and nose, with red markings above each eye slit. It stopped just short of his lower lip, not extending all the way down to where his jaw line should have been. But whether it was a trick of the light or not, nothing about his face could be made out behind his cloak and hood, except one feature.
Shockingly golden eyes.
Zhao suppressed a shudder when he saw them. Every time he looked into them, he felt an uninhibited pang of fear. Though they were bright, they were simultaneously lifeless, as if they had been affixed to his countenance by a painter or a dollmaker. There was something unreal about them. They didn't feel human.
Worst of all was the unspeakable void that seemed to accompany the man as he entered the room. It was as if he sucked all the energy and spirit out of it, all the joy and happiness - not that there was much to be found in the Council Chamber usually, anyway - but also all the negative emotion. It was not as if he left only rage or fury in his wake - it was utter emptiness, a gaping maw which reduced all to a lifeless vacuum.
Jing had once described him as hunger made incarnate, a mindless thing that seemed to devour all life in his presence. Zhao wondered if that meant his own life was in danger. At the end of his calculation, he surmised that he would be a fool not to assume so, even if he was a loyal servant.
The man took his seat at the head of the table, and even now that he was in the full light of the flickering flames along the wall, his face remained obscured, as if whatever void followed him around guarded his identity from onlookers. Only the eyes remained. For a moment, Zhao allowed himself to absurdly believe that there were only a pair of disembodied eyes behind the mask. He shook himself - there were no such thing as spirits; not really, anyway... but if there was someone that would get him to believe in them, it was this man.
"The Sacred Flame lives," croaked a raspy, grating noise from behind the mask.
"The Sacred Flame consumes," answered all eleven other attendees in lockstep. The masked man nodded, and the eleven bowed, uttering "Grandmaster," before sitting to join their leader, removing their masks and revealing their identities to each other. Only the man at the head of the table kept his mask.
"You are, all of you, wondering why it is I have called the entirety of the council." He phrased it as a statement, but in truth it was an unanswered question. No one dared make a noise - they would wait on his answer, none of them brave or suicidal enough to make a demand or a request of their leader.
"As you all know, almost two months ago, the Princess Azula went missing near the South Pole, as did the Royal Barge which was transporting her. All sailors on board were lost, as were her Royal Guardsmen."
There was only a little movement around the room. Zhao furtively glanced to his left, where Lord Zaffar, the spymaster to the Fire Lord, fidgeted in his seat. Zhao almost laughed; Zaffar was notoriously unflappable and stone cold in every interaction, at every party, and even at court when facing the Fire Lord, yet the Grandmaster never failed to make him uncomfortable.
"What you may not know is that Princess Azula is not dead. She has, in fact, turned traitor to the Fire Nation. We have trusted men among the mercenary company of the disgraced exile Zuko, who were present when the little Princeling laid siege to one of the villages of the Southern Water Tribe. He was, surprisingly, successful. He even managed to capture the Nightwolf, the pathetic boogeyman that traipses around the South Pole harassing transports and supply ships aiding the Earth Kingdom war effort. Of course, in typical fashion for the prince, he allowed his captives to escape from his ship. It would seem that the Princess and a surviving Southern Waterbender were involved."
"What you also may not know is that, three days ago, the Fire Temple on Crescent Island was lit ablaze in blue light. It would seem that, despite the efforts of our First Grandmaster, Zarrok Jin, the Avatar has lived, and has been found. He was the reason for the Prince's siege, and was momentarily his captive before being freed alongside the Nightwolf."
Now there was nervousness in the room, though momentary. Zhao only felt the current before the same void emanating from the masked man sucked it all away.
"I believe that Princess Azula is now accompanying the Avatar in the hopes of inciting a movement that will result in the overthrow of her father. I am ascertaining if our ancient enemy is involved, although I have little doubt in my mind that they are. Perhaps the Order seeks to supplant Ozai with a ruler of their own choosing, but it is of little matter in the long run." Now the voice was a contemptuous sneer.
"Lord Zaffar?"
Zaffar nervously cleared his throat. "Yes, Grandmaster. The Fire Lord is as of yet unaware of the Princess's betrayal; he believes her to either be dead or kept hostage by the Southern Water Tribe. However, some scouts have reported that the entirety of the Southern Water Tribe has been tipped off to his dispatch of the Sixth Fleet towards their home, and has begun preparations for an exodus to the North Pole. The Sixth Fleet will find nothing once they arrive, and when they do, the Fire Lord will dispatch the Fifth, Seventh, and Eight towards the North Pole in an attempt to crush the Water Tribe in one fell swoop."
There was slight murmuring around the table - Lady Jing whispered something to Lady Quan, seated next to her.
"The Grandmaster has instructed me to ensure that the leader of the combined armada, whenever it is formed, will be one of our attendees. While the job would typically fall to Admiral Zheng," he said, nodding towards a man two seats to Zhao's left, "Admiral Zheng has been ordered to head an invasion of Chameleon Bay while the Southern Tribe's navy is split in two to help with their exodus preparations. Instead, I will ensure that the job falls to Commodore Zhao."
Now every face, including that of the Grandmaster, turned to Zhao. He felt a horrible urge to hide, but resisted it at all costs, managing to muster a slight smirk instead.
"A well deserved honor, future Admiral Zhao," rasped the Grandmaster. Zhao inclined his head respectfully.
"I will not fail you, Grandmaster. I thank you for the opportunity."
"Very good. We have two matters to discuss, now. The first is the reason for your appointment, Zhao."
"Grandmaster?"
"I have long been concerned about the Water Tribe's ability to interfere with our plans for the glorious future of the Fire Nation. Your job will be to subjugate the Water Tribe for Ozai. While we cannot wholly eliminate them as of yet, we can still destroy the resistance of the Water Tribe before their eventual consignment to history. You see, I have learned of an oasis in the North Pole, a place where two spirits reside, in the form of Koi fish - Tui and La, the spirits of the Moon and the Ocean. You must kill the Moon Spirit, Zhao, for when you do, waterbending will cease to exist."
Now there was an audible rumble through the room. Lady Jing leaned forwards, elbows on the table.
"Forgive me, Grandmaster... but waterbending, cease to exist?"
"Forgiven, Lady Jing." The Grandmaster fixed his dead stare on her, and she recoiled quickly, to Zhao's amusement. "The Moon controls the waves, and its spirit is the conduit through which Waterbenders harness their control over the water by virtue of the Moon. To kill the Moon Spirit is to sever that conduit, and to sever the Waterbenders from the source of their power. There is a reason we will have to wait patiently to eliminate the entirety of that inferior race, but we can easily eliminate the source of their limited power and abilities now."
Zhao bowed deeply. "Grandmaster, this is truly a momentous opportunity."
"Indeed, Zhao. Fulfill this for me and you will have aided the Fire Nation's rise to complete glory. You will be remembered in history as Zhao, the man who conquered the Moon."
Zhao couldn't suppress the vainglorious grin now spreading across his face.
"The second matter I wish to discuss is more pressing. Zaffar has informed me that Fire Lord Ozai is planning to recall the exiled Prince, in case he has no true living heir. I have been told that Ozai is less than pleased at this turn of events, but even a fool such as he recognizes the precarious situation in which his dynastic line has been placed. Undoubtedly, he will force the Prince to breed as soon as possible, generating additional heirs to re-secure the throne."
Zhao smiled. He knew where this was headed.
"If Ozai and Zuko are in the same place at one time, our job becomes much easier. The Fire Lord's popularity is beginning to wane among the commoners, as the war in the Earth Kingdom comes to a grinding halt and the Water Tribes fail to capitulate on time. When news of the Princess's defection becomes public knowledge, he will lose considerable support, and Prince Zuko has none of the Princess's natural charms or competence. Ozai will be hard pressed to achieve some success. Zhao, once you have slain the Moon Spirit, you will order a retreat from the North Pole."
Zhao's smirk was wiped off his face. "Grandmaster?"
Suddenly, he felt his throat constrict, as if all the oxygen in it had been removed. He could not breathe. The vacuum that surrounded the Grandmaster had somehow forced itself into his throat and lungs.
"You will order a retreat, Zhao, and you will send hawks to the capital affirming that you have been routed by the Water Tribe. That is why, despite the destruction of their bending abilities, they must be allowed to live. When the news becomes public, Ozai will be forced to address the commoners in Caldera City, as our agents foment unrest against his rule. That will be our moment."
Zhao barely heard the Grandmaster. He could hardly think, for the lack of oxygen to his mind. His vision became blurry as he clawed furiously at his throat, as if trying to bore holes into it for air.
"We will cut the head off the snake that pretends to be a dragon, and we will inherit the Fire Nation. Ozai and Zuko and the dynasty will fall, and I shall rise on top of the throne."
"Grandmaster, regicide is a truly brilliant plan," purred Lady Jing. Though the other assembled lords and ladies seemed horrified at Zhao choking away his life at the table, she had eyes only for their leader. "What shall you style yourself?"
"I am the true heir of Sozin, and as such, I shall style myself as Sozin reborn, second of my name," he said flatly. Jing made a noise of pleased contentment in response.
Suddenly, the void dissipated, and air came rushing back into Zhao's throat and lungs. He took in a deep breath of air, so loud it was almost a scream. The Grandmaster's golden eyes were fixated on him now, and even though his mind was protesting from the lack of oxygen, unable to function fully, he swore he saw pure contemptuousness in them.
"Be careful not to choke on your aspirations, admiral."
The Grandmaster stood up and raised his hands, palms upwards, to shoulder height.
Like all the other lords and ladies, Zhao too rose from his seat, and prostrated in front of him onto his knees, bowing his head to the ground, though his heart was filled to the brim with impotent hatred.
"All hail, Sozin the Second. All hail the Sacred Flame," echoed eleven voices through the chamber.
XXXXX
He was starting to think this was a bad idea. It had been sexier in his head.
"Look, just… be careful, alright? I've imagined my death many times, and full disclosure – this way out wasn't one of them."
He was greeted with furrowed brows and a stern golden gaze. "Do I look like the type of person who can't handle a knife, Sokka? If I cut you, it'll be on purpose. Now shut up and stop moving."
She reached over into the stream, cupping a handful of water. She heated it slowly, and then traced it along his neck and jawline. She followed with the razor. It was all Sokka could do to not gulp with fear as the slightly warm metal tickled his skin, scraping off the brush that had grown along his face in his time of captivity.
"You could have done this yourself, you know," she said testily.
"Look around, Princess. You see any mirrors?" he whined.
"There's a spirits-damned stream right next to us."
"Water ripples. I could make it all uneven."
"I'm this close to cutting you."
"You wouldn't."
Golden eyes met blue. Her expression was pure steel. The words were left unsaid, but the intention was clear. Try me.
"You got this idea from Katara and Aang, didn't you?"
"No." Naturally, Sokka was lying through his teeth, as he'd seen his sister shave Aang's head by the stream only hours ago. Though that had been almost motherly, the way Aang's head was in her lap. Even with a deadly Princess, he much preferred this, risque as it was.
While Azula carefully traced under his chin with the razor, he peered downwards from a tilted vantage and admired the raven-haired beauty that sat in his lap. By instinct, his hands were placed on the sides of her upper thighs, and with the extreme closeness between them, he couldn't help but move them upwards, caressing the soft curve of her hips.
He was rewarded with a nick on the left side of his chin, making him wince.
"Oops," said the Princess in a sing-song voice. She mercifully bathed the cut in water, using a spare rag to wipe it clean.
"You said you could handle a knife."
"Do you want another?"
He gulped. "No, ma'am."
"Good boy," she said, giving him a predatory smile.
Okay, maybe this is a little sexy. Even if she is a vicious tigress. Actually, is it maybe because she is?
The tigress interrupted that disturbing train of thought by preying on her toy a little more. Wiping his neck with her hand, she leaned in and gave him a languid kiss, slipping in her tongue just a hint, which elicited a groan from Sokka. Even shut, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. This time he definitely couldn't stop his hands caressing her hips and waist, and this time, she allowed it. He felt his manhood stiffen, and when he opened his eyelids to look, Azula had a wolfish grin teasing the corners of her lips. Clearly, she'd felt his reaction.
Rather than pretend like she'd had minimal effect on him, Sokka decided to give credit where credit was due, perhaps only because she'd turned his mind into jelly and set his insides ablaze.
"You're absolute torture, you vixen," he said, voice breathy.
"I know," she said brightly. "Now you can sit here like this all bothered while I do the sides of your head."
Sokka groaned again, this time not from pleasure. "Zuko hurt me less than you."
Her eyes narrowed again. "Did he hurt you badly?"
Sokka couldn't shake his head, not while her razor was at his temples, but his eyes communicated no to her. "It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Maybe I egged him on a little."
Her other hand, which was holding his head steady at an angle from his chin, loosened, and her index finger grazed his lips.
"I saw your scars, moron. The new ones. He whipped you, didn't he? Why in Agni's name did you feel the need to do that?"
"He was full of shit. About you."
She gave him a disapproving look. "Don't tell me you lost your head because my estranged brother, whose childhood I made a living hell, had negative things to say about me. What did you say?"
"I told him your mom misidentified the monster in your family."
Now she stopped shaving, putting aside the razor and pulling away from him just slightly enough to get a full view of his eyes. She cupped his cheeks with her hands.
"Why did you say that?"
Sokka shrugged. "It's the truth."
"Not how I felt back at the temple."
"None of those corpses were your handiwork."
"No, but-"
He moved his hands from her waist to her hands, caressing them as they caressed his own cheeks. "We've been over this, 'Zula. Aang feels horrible about what happened. I can see he wants to apologize to you a million times over every time he looks at you. You are not responsible for what happened there. The Fire Nation is."
"I am royalty. I am the Fire Nation."
"Even so, your responsibility to the Air Nomads isn't self-pitying guilt," he said softly. She sighed. His words were harsh, but his tone wasn't. "It's to acknowledge that a wrong was committed, and to right the wrong. That's how you apologize, not by beating yourself up about it."
She looked at him carefully for a minute, and then broke off her hands to pick up the razor and resume her task.
"I already said it before, but I hate this saintly Knight of the White Lotus act," she muttered.
He laughed. "Why's that?"
She moved his head to the other side to take care of the last third of her task. "Because occasionally you say profound things for which I have no rebuttal."
"Well, I'm sure I'll fuck up at some point and you'll be there to dole out sage words of advice when it happens." In response, she smiled at him; it was one of those rare true smiles, not a smirk or a sneer. He reflected on how much he loved it when she did that.
It was a rather bright night – the little corner of the world where they'd made camp was graced by the light of the full moon and the bright stars, and Sokka couldn't help but stare at the sky.
"Your head's in the sky again, isn't it?" murmured the Princess. "Why so moonstruck?"
He shrugged. "I think it's a Water Tribe thing. After all, the moon does command the waves."
"But you're not a bender." She finished the last of the fuzz on the side of his head, placing the razor into a towel next to them. She undid his wolf's tail. The long hair on top of his head splayed out on either side to chin length, framing his face. She cocked her head and inspected her handiwork.
Even with every hair out of place, he looks beautiful. She found herself amused to think that once upon a time, her inner voices would have berated her for thinking like that. Not too long ago, when she thought she lost him, her voices had threatened to tear her apart, breaking past all her defenses. With him nearby, she felt safe, strong, able to withstand them.
"Even so… I think the moon holds a special allure for my people."
"Well, stop it." She gently tugged on his chin. "I'm the only one who's allowed to hold a special allure for you."
He smirked, now looking at her only, all thoughts of the moon long vanished into thin air. "Marking your territory? We're exclusive now?"
"I never liked to share my toys," she growled, burying her face in the nape of his neck, taking in his scent of fresh pine, lighting her inner fire to keep them warm there by the brookside. There was no need to go back to camp. She was happy where she was, and so was he.
When she woke the next morning at the crack of dawn, in his arms, by the bubbling brook they'd deigned not leave behind, she let herself whisper to him in a moment of instinctive possessiveness.
"You're mine, Sokka."
"You're mine too, 'Zula," he said with a sleepy grin. She didn't mind that he heard, or that he was awake.
"Good to know. Now go bathe in the stream."
"Mmkay. You're coming with."
"Not a chance, peasant, but nice try."
He laughed, and she buried a smile into the crook of his neck.
XXXXX
"So, where do we go from here?" Katara asked, staring at the map laid out in the center of the clearing in the forest, where the four of them had set up camp.
"Well, we need to resupply food at least. We have a new friend to think about feeding after all," Sokka said with a chuckle. As if in response, the lemur – which they'd affectionately nicknamed Momo – hopped onto his shoulder with an inquisitive chirp. Sokka fed him a berry, and Momo hopped over to Katara's shoulder, as if expecting a similar morning treat. Sighing, Katara pulled a berry out of a pouch and gave it to him as well.
"Where's the nearest village?"
"Well, we are near the end of the Patola range, now. Not many villages nearby, but…"
"What about that island?"
"Kyoshi Island?" Azula peered over at the map, recognizing the mass by shape before she even read the label.
"Yeah, you've heard of it?"
"Mm. The island Avatar Kyoshi famously split off from the peninsula. From what I remember, they've managed to stay out of the war, although last war council I was present at, General Shinu mentioned that the Kyoshi Warriors had been sighted away from the Island and around Omashu."
Sokka raised an eyebrow. "The Kyoshi Warriors?"
Azula nodded. "An all-female unit of warriors, among the finest soldiers that the Earth Kingdom has – which is saying something, since none of them are supposed to be benders. Though, they generally stick to themselves and fight in the memory of the Avatar. It was strange that they'd chosen to get into the war so late, and to actually leave the Island to go fight near Omashu…"
"Did you say Omashu?" Aang piped up. "I had a friend named Bumi in Omashu. Great guy." He stared wistfully at one of the clouds.
Azula looked at him strangely, cogs whirring in her head. "How old was your friend, as you last remember him?"
Aang saw the strange look in her eyes, feeling confused. "Uh… not sure. He was a little younger than me, so maybe sixteen?"
Azula's eyes widened. "Well… I suppose it could be coincidence, but I don't think it is. The King of Omashu is named Bumi, and he happens to be…"
Sokka dropped the berry that was about to enter his mouth. "No way," he muttered, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"One hundred and sixteen years old."
Aang laughed nervously. "You're joking, right? Ha…ha?" He looked at Katara and Sokka for help. "This is an Azula joke, right?"
Sokka shook his head, equally shocked. Katara, too, appeared dumbfounded.
"Not this time, bud," Sokka mumbled. "Princess, are you sure?"
Azula nodded. "I can't say for certain that Aang's friend and King Bumi are the same person, but the age certainly adds up. Also, from what I understand, Bumi isn't exactly a common name in the Earth Kingdom."
"Maybe we've found an Earthbender teacher for Aang," Sokka said, stroking his chin.
Aang smiled. "If it really is Bumi… why not?"
"That might be a good idea," Katara said. "Do you know if he's any good as a bender?"
Azula snorted. "Any good? He's 116 years old and supposedly mad, perhaps, but many consider him to be the most powerful bender in the Earth Kingdom. If he really is Aang's friend, I could think of no one better to serve his teacher."
"Then it really could work!" Katara said brightly. "So, let's stop at this island to resupply, and then from there we go to Omashu."
"Just one thing, guys…" Aang muttered. "While we may be able to enlist Bumi's help, I still think we should make the North Pole our priority. I think I should learn water before I learn earth or fire."
"Why's that?" Katara asked.
"Well… it's supposed to be the traditional circle of elemental learning for Avatars, but… there's also a reason behind it."
"Balance," murmured Sokka.
All three of his companions looked at him with surprise, particularly Aang. Sokka reddened a little at the sudden attention, stammering out his explanation.
"Well, I mean… mastery of the air is about letting loose the flow. Waterbending is about understanding the rhythm of the flow. When you learn the rhythm, you learn how to control, which is necessary for Earthbending – and for an Airbender, control is the opposite of their element, which is nothing but freedom. When Aang finally masters control, he'll be able to tackle Firebending, which is all about control of the breath… which is control of air, so it's really all just one big cycle, you see…" he trailed off, as it seemed like his companions stared at him as if he'd grown multiple heads during the course of his explanation.
"Sokka… where on earth…?" Katara stumbled over her words, still trying to understand what her brother had said.
Sokka shrugged, but he grew redder all the same. "Look, guys, it's just White Lotus stuff that Iroh told me. Well, not in so many words, but it's just adding two and two together to get four from there…" He'd passed on the same information after their eventful visit to the Southern Air Temple that he'd told Azula about, regarding the mission of the White Lotus and his recruitment to it, but he figured it was still largely gibberish to Aang and Katara.
"Actually, Sokka's right." To his relief, Azula didn't look as incredulously at him as his sister and Aang did… in fact, she had the hint of a proud smile tugging at her lips. "Each element has a key to its mastery, an attribute inherent to the element itself. Each attribute also touches upon the next element in the cycle, which is also why supposedly the Avatar cycle progresses the way it does."
Aang seemed to move past his own disbelief now, too. "Yeah, actually, that's exactly what Gyatso had told me. It's why I know a little bit of Waterbending, but nothing of any of the other two elements."
"Hmm…" Katara seemed to ponder it before accepting the logic. "Well, I suppose we should prioritize the North Pole, then, because that's the only place you'll be able to find Waterbending masters. There's only so much I can teach you, Aang."
The Avatar smiled sweetly at her. "You've already taught me so much."
"Bleh," Sokka groaned loudly.
Katara fixed him with a cross glare. "Don't even get me started, Mister 'Shave Me, Princess'."
Azula's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What- How-" she spluttered.
"You weren't exactly trying to hide it, and Aang had to go refill his waterskin by the creek!" she said, defensively.
"WHAT DID YOU SEE?!" the Princess raged, in the Avatar's direction. Aang visibly gulped and took two steps back, hands raised in a placating way.
"Nothing, I swear! Just one quick look, and all you were doing was shaving his neck!" Though that was a lie, he'd stuck around for the kiss and had reported back to Katara, blushing as he did so.
Unfortunately, without thinking, his mouth spilled, "but was there something I shouldn't have seen?"
Crap, Aang thought, as soon as he said it.
The Princess looked like she wanted to burn Aang to a crisp, but Sokka laughed and put his hands on her shoulders. "Easy, dragon. Nothing to burn down the forest for."
She glared at Sokka, too, but seemed less burn-happy than before. "Let's just get going to Kyoshi Island, you dimwits."
A screech drew all their attention away from the clearing where they'd camped in. All of them tensed for battle – Sokka with Boomerang, Aang with his staff, Azula with her fires and Katara with her water-skin, but to their collective relief, it was only a messenger hawk.
"Hawky!" shouted Sokka with gleeful surprise.
As if answering, the messenger hawk screeched once more, circling around to land on Sokka's shoulder. He playfully stroked the hawk's head before pulling the message that was inside the tube affixed to its torso. He read it silently.
Katara,
Evacuating South Pole. All of it – not just our village, but thirteen - all except Yakuit. I've been formally made High Chief of the South, though I already was commanding the combined navy. The Yakuit won't come, think they're too deep in the pole for the ashmakers to get them. Spirits know I hope they're right. Entire armada of Fire Nation heading here, for the Princess most likely. Sending whole tribe to North Pole – about 4000 people in all, under Bato's command. Rest of the navy is with me. Send reply back with Hawky. We gave him a lot of the bison's shed fur to smell to find you.
Hope you found Sokka, Katara. If you're both reading this,
I love you, children. Gran-Gran says she loves you too, stubborn old woman. Please be safe. Go to the North Pole. Heading back to Chameleon Bay.
Dad.
Sokka felt a swell of pride in hearing that his father had been appointed High Chief, but there was a lump in his throat.
Exodus. His entire people were forced to leave, to head back North – a place where their ancestors had originally left, for one reason or another. The tribes might be united once again, but the Southerners had always disparaged the Northerners as uppity and the Northerners had always looked down on the South as a wild, uncivilized place that had no culture. His people would not go as equals, and they would not be treated as such.
And yet, it might be necessary for survival. There was no way that they'd be able to survive a sustained Fire Nation campaign – in fact, the only thing that had likely saved them all along was how inhospitable and resource-light their homeland was. It wasn't worth occupying. This fleet came not to occupy, but to destroy. It would be best if there was nothing left behind to destroy save packed snow and rotting walls.
Katara nudged him, and he handed off the letter to her, lump still in his throat. He walked away from the group, trying to clear his throat, leaning against a large oak tree at the edge of the clearing.
Soft footsteps sidled up to him, and a soft hand was on his shoulder.
"You alright?" the Princess asked.
Sokka nodded. "Dad was made High Chief. The whole tribe is being evacuated, sent to the North Pole."
Azula frowned. "All 150-"
Sokka shook his head. "No, the entire tribe. Not just our village, but thirteen of the fourteen others, and some of the others in the interior are much larger – they've had less raids and less death. 4000 women, youth, and elderly in all."
Azula bit her lip. "An exodus, then." Sokka nodded in response.
"I'm sorry, Sokka. If I had never-"
"Quit it," he snapped, fixing her with a furious glare. "Don't you dare, Azula. This is my fault and my fault alone. I was going to bite off more than I could chew one day. It just happened to be you. I'm not going to sit here and let you take the blame for this one too. It's my turn to shoulder some spirts-damned responsibility."
The intensity of his words caught her aback, and she simply gave him a mute nod. At this, his shoulders relaxed – too much. A choked sob forced its way out from his throat. "It's my fault, Azula. I've damned my people to leave their homes, travel across the world, back to a land that will accept them as second class citizens at best. What have I done?" He slumped onto a log, holding his head in his hands. This was all wrong. He'd tried to carry the weight of his loss by doling out vengeance to the Fire Nation, and now his actions had brought the prospect of the same misery he felt when losing Saira, multiplied hundredfold on his own people.
Azula seemed to read his mind. She knelt – Princesses never kneel, nagged a voice in her head, though she wasn't sure which of the multitude it was this time; perhaps Lo or Li? – and clasped his hands in hers.
"Your responsibility to your people isn't self-pity," she said sternly, echoing his words from last night. "It's like you said, Sokka. You can waste yourself in guilt for something you did, or you can acknowledge that a mistake was made and you can try to make it right."
He cleared his throat, taking a second to compose himself. "Are you throwing back my words of wisdom at me?"
"You said you'd fuck up at some point and I'd be there to give you the advice you needed, right?" she said. He looked up at her, a sad smile stretching across his features. Though her countenance was stern, he found nothing but warmth and comfort in it. "Now pick yourself up and be the person I know you are, Sokka," she continued. "You'll have your chance to make it right. And to be honest with you, this is war. My father was bound to do something like this one day. Don't kill yourself over it. I know I'm tired of killing myself over his actions."
He nodded, holding her gaze. Suddenly, his hands were at her cheeks, and he leaned in, engulfing her lips with his in a passionate kiss, trying to convey every ounce of gratefulness and affection in his heart.
It was then that he stopped trying to deny to himself that he was deeply in love with Princess Azula of the Fire Nation.
XXXXX
It took Aang some time to work up the courage to approach the Princess. He could feel the air around her tense up as she stiffened upon his arrival.
Spirits, I hate that I've made her react like this, he thought.
"Uh... Azula?"
"Yes, Avatar?" Her voice was even - too even. Aang recognized it as someone who was trying forcefully to maintain control. He grit his teeth.
"Can we talk? Just for a few moments?"
She spun around, her porcelain features passive. Aang's eyes bored into hers, and he could sense something off kilter. It wasn't fear or apprehension, but a calculation. She regarded him as a threat, and was resorting to her instinctive reaction with threats - analyze, observe, strike.
"Of course."
He sighed. This wasn't going to work if she kept up every wall and shield she had at her disposal around him. Then again, he blamed only himself. He'd nearly killed her in a fit of rage, or so he was told. He'd blacked out like he usually did when the Avatar spirit took control, and Sokka had filled him in on it. For his part, the Water Tribesman seemed to have moved on from it, treating Aang no differently than he had before, but he noticed a little change in his mannerisms where both Azula and Aang were present. He'd stand a little in front of her, his shoulder eclipsing hers, as if to throw himself in front of her in case of incoming danger. Protective instincts aside, though, he was grateful to not have lost the trust of his friend.
The Princess was a different story. He wasn't sure there was much trust there to begin with - she'd always been sort of a beneficiary of his relationship with Sokka and Katara - but now he wanted to build a bridge between them. Although they'd hugged it out in the temple, the moment was fraught with danger and emotion. After the passage of some time, he wanted to lay it all to rest.
"Azula, I'm... I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be." She knew what he was talking about. "The things you saw back there... no one blames you."
"I know you don't blame me, but that's not what I'm apologizing for. I'm trying to say sorry because I was wrong not to trust you. And now I've given you enough reasons not to trust me."
She looked at him with an eyebrow raised. Evidently, this was not the tack of apology she was expecting.
Aang sighed again before continuing. "From the moment I knew who you were, any trust I had for you was just contingent on my trust and friendship with Sokka. But now... we've fought together. Twice. And I have a feeling we're going to be in more fights together. I need you to know that I really do trust you."
Azula snorted, and though it wasn't the reaction Aang had hoped for, it was still a reaction. He preferred it over stony-faced passivity.
"It's not about trust, Aang." He didn't fail to notice her use of his name... hopefully it was a good sign. "It's about guilt. It always has been. Every time I look at you I see what we saw back in the temple - the crimes of my people and my nation. And to be frank with you, I would lie if I said I had always felt as if something was wrong, or if I'd always been skeptical about the actions of my nation. I read it all, Aang. It's all there in my history books, even if the motivations were obscured and the carnage was toned down for the purposes of propaganda. I knew we'd attacked your people. And until I met you and I saw with my own eyes, I didn't think twice about it."
"And now?"
"And now..." she muttered. "Now, when I see you, all I feel is guilt."
"What if I said I forgive you? Even though I don't think there's anything to forgive, Princess. It wasn't you who killed my people."
"No. But I am the representative of the nation that did those actions. I can't pass this off to someone else."
Aang stepped closer to her, gingerly laying a hand on her shoulder. To his satisfaction, she didn't recoil or cast him off. "If you really are desperate to shoulder the burden of atoning for this all by yourself, start that by being my friend, Azula. I already think of you as one, so please... think of me as the same. I used to have friends in the Fire Nation, did you know? One of my best friends was Fire Nation." He looked away, thinking of Kuzon. "If I'm going to start again, I'd like you to be the first. And I want you to not look at me like you're calculating the hundred different ways I could attack you, although I know I'm going to have to earn that."
A hint of a smile teased the corners of her mouth. "I think that would be satisfactory. Don't take the analysis personally, though. I do that with everyone. Warrior's habit."
"Even Sokka?"
"Even Sokka. Though the idiot never sees it."
Aang smiled. He knew that not all had been fixed, but it was a start.
XXXXX
Katara sighed as she finished penning the letter on Appa's back, high above the clouds.
Dad,
Good news first. We found Sokka and our friend. Don't worry about me. Or the visitor girl. She's one of us, and I trust her – Sokka had beamed when she'd written that part, excitedly telling Azula about it – and so do Sokka and our friend.
Actually, Dad, I think Sokka loves her. And what's more, I think she loves him too. Not that they've admitted as much to each other - she'd made sure that none of her companions saw that part – but I don't think he's blinded to who she is. Nor am I. She's tough as hell on the outside, but there's a good person underneath.
Congrats on becoming High Chief. We couldn't be more proud. Sokka won't stop calling himself the Prince of the South now. Please tell me that's not a thing. Even though it would be nice to be a Princess, I can live with being plain old Katara if it means not blowing up that idiot's ego any more.
Sokka took the news of the exodus hard. The other girl told him it's not really his fault, and I hope he believes it. We're taking our friend to talk to some Earthbenders first – she was careful not to refer to Aang specifically, in case the letter was intercepted – but eventually we'll go find Bato – again, not specifying the North Pole, for the same reason – and then find some Waterbenders for our friend to talk to. And for me as well. I can only learn so much from the scroll Sokka stole for me.
Dad, Sokka met someone, an ally in the Fire Nation. I'm not sure how much help they can be. Won't say more here – maybe I'll tell Bato, or if we happen to meet, to your face.
Give Gran-Gran all our love. Stay safe, Dad. I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye. It was so wonderful to see you again after so many years. I cried almost every night for having to leave you like that, but it was necessary. I hope you understand why. Sokka and I love you, Dad.
Your Kat.
She tied the paper into a scroll, placing it in Hawky's tube before ruffling the messenger hawk's feathers lovingly. "Go find Dad, Hawky. Good luck."
The bird chirped as if he knew and acknowledged his mission, and took off with a majestic beat of his wings.
Katara's heart felt heavy, but her ears perked at the jovial voices of her companions.
"… so, if in the North they have a High Chief of a united tribe, and his kids are called prince or princess… that DOES make me a Prince!"
"Hah! Prince Sokka. You know, it doesn't sound too bad, when you say it out loud," Aang mused. Sokka beamed and clapped the younger man on the shoulder.
"Buddy, I knew we were gonna get along famously from the moment we met."
"AVATAR! Do not feed his oversized ego! You're no Prince, savage," hissed Azula. "Don't start dreaming above your station."
"Should I be called Prince-Warchief? Or…. Warchief-Prince…. NO, wait! I've got it! War-Prince." If his grin could get any wider, Katara was sure his face would tear in two. She rolled her eyes. Azula clearly needed the reinforcements before Sokka's ego became too heavy for Appa to carry.
"Sokka, I think the Princess would be the expert on all things royalty – and if she says you're still a backwards village idiot, I agree with her. In fact, I KNOW you're a backwards village idiot. We grew up in the same village after all."
"HEY! Take that back, Kat. Whose side are you on, anyway?"
Without skipping a beat, she jerked a thumb at Azula. "Hers. All day, any day. She could turn me into blubbered seal jerky with a snap of her fingers. What are you going to do? Throw Boomerang at me?"
And like that, the argument began anew, as their newfound family of four tore each other down with love.
In the middle of it, Azula paused for a moment, thinking to herself that perhaps this is what having a family was truly like.
XXXXX
It was another week before they finally arrived at Kyoshi Island, but for the second time in the two months Aang had been conscious since waking from the iceberg, he found a settlement under siege.
Only, Kyoshi Island wasn't under siege, exactly. It was in the middle of being sacked. The group huddled on Appa's back, taking cover in the clouds and formulating a strategy before taking action.
"Is it-?" wondered Katara, aloud.
Azula shook her head. "No, it can't be Zuko. Look around the bend of the cove – there's two more ships. The standards are that of the Sixth Fleet. This might be the fleet dispatched towards the South Pole."
"These three must have broken off for some local pillaging or supply raids," Sokka muttered darkly. "How many do you think there are?"
"The two small ones are just corvette-class ships, probably only with 30-man crews, but the large one around the side of the island, that's a battlecruiser. There's probably someone of moderately high rank in command. There's at least 200 soldiers in there, and definitely firebenders."
"We're all in agreement that we have to help these islanders, right?" said Sokka. "We need the supplies, but more importantly-"
Azula cut him off. "More importantly, I can start atoning for the sins of my people." To her surprise, Aang put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a nod and a smile.
"We probably don't have to worry too much about the large one," Sokka mused. "It's too big to dock near the island, and we're not going to give them enough time to unload men onto transports and get on land. We have two objectives – sink the small corvettes, and save any surviving villagers."
"If there are survivors…" Azula muttered darkly. "But if so, we may want to consider commandeering one of the corvettes instead. If there are enough villagers and we can spare the navigator and the ship engineer, we can evacuate the survivors. The battlecruiser probably won't chase away from the main fleet, not for villagers."
"I want to go look for survivors," Aang whispered. "This village… it was the home of one of my predecessors. It should be an Avatar that saves them."
"I'm with him," Katara said, determination coursing through her face.
Sokka nodded. "Alright, that's fine. Azula and I will take the ships. Aang, can you fly Katara on your glider under cloud cover to the far side of the village?"
Aang blushed. "Yeah, but…. She'll have to hold on tight. Like… very tight."
Sokka rolled his eyes. "Try not to act too excited, lover-boy. You're fine with this, Kat?"
She was blushing too, although it was difficult to tell under her cinnamon colored skin. Sokka knew her well enough to recognize it and had to suppress a laugh.
"Yes, I'm fine." Her voice was a squeak.
"Ugh," Sokka groaned. "Just remember, this is a mission, not a date." His joke earned him a slap on the back of his head from his sister.
Aang and Katara separated from the two, still struggling to meet each other's eyes.
"How do we do this…?"
"So, um… just hug me."
"What?"
"Just hug me. Tight. Around the waist, not the arms."
Katara put her arms around Aang, while he lifted his arms above his head, holding his glider in his hands. She'd pecked his cheek, and shown him affection, generally, but this was… her whole body was pressed against his, and she no longer wore a thick Southern coat, as it was no longer cold enough to warrant it. She could feel his toned musculature through the tunic, and she knew he could feel every soft curve of hers pressed against him. The thought sent pleasant and horrified tingles through her body in equal measure.
"You're gonna have to hold on tight, okay? This is going to feel very fast, and you might get butterflies in your stomach – yeah, as if that wasn't already happening, she thought – but I'm not gonna let you go. Just keep your arms around me the whole time."
"Y-yeah. Sure. No problem," Katara gulped out.
With a powerful blast, Aang kicked them high into the air, letting his glider's wings spread and take them through the currents in the air.
Katara had to suppress a scream at first, burying it into Aang's neck. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his, clutching on to him for dear life.
"It's okay, Katara, I've got you. I promise," he said, laughing gently. "You can look. All you'll see is my face and the sky and the clouds behind me."
Slowly, she peeked out. Aang was flying the glider at a leisurely pace, letting the current take them more so than propelling himself with his bending.
He was right – all she could see was the sky behind him, but the best things she saw were his cirrus-grey eyes.
"Hey, Aang… Just in case something happens down there…"
He looked at her with concern and a little self-consciousness glistening in his eyes. "It's okay, Katara, I promise I won't go into the Avatar state-"
She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. In case something happens to me or you… I just… oh, fuck it." She gave him a quick but fiery kiss on the lips and then promptly buried her face in his neck again, unable to meet his eyes.
She felt his body rumble – at first she thought he was shivering, but that was silly; then, she realized he was laughing gently.
"What's so funny?" she grumbled into his shoulder.
"One more for good luck?" he asked, voice innocent yet playful.
She groaned into his neck.
Before they landed on the far side of the village, though, she did give him one more.
For good luck.
XXXXX
Sokka pulled out a small tub from the pack Gran-Gran had given him, laughing.
"Best packer and preparer in the world, Gran-Gran. I love you, batty old woman."
"What's in the jar?"
Sokka smiled brightly at Azula. "Paint."
"Your… face paint?" she asked. He turned around, applying the grey-under layer to his face.
"No, Princess, I was thinking of redecorating my roo-" he had to duck as a firebolt shot past his head. He spun around to see the Princess glaring at him, but broke into a fit of laughter.
"Look, you should put some on, too."
She rolled her eyes at him, but she'd been thinking the same thing. "No point in tipping off to my father that I'm allied with the Avatar and attempting to overthrow him, I suppose. It could put your people in danger if they're still evacuating."
Sokka nodded. "And that means, no bending, either… unless you're sure that the only person to see it won't be alive to tell anyone after."
She grinned slyly at that. "Mmm… I love when you bare your fangs, Wolf."
He laughed, but there wasn't much mirth in it. "The face paint does it for you?"
She recognized the reason for his reticence right away. It amazed him, but he thought privately to himself that perhaps he really liked that this woman had learned to read his thoughts like they were her own. "Sokka… before we go, just remember: this is war. You're defending innocents, not killing to satisfy your own vendetta here. These villagers will need our help."
"Our help," he corrected, firmly. "And I know. It's just…"
"Saira wouldn't think badly of you for this. I didn't know her, I know, and I'm sorry if I'm overreaching when I say this, but I can't imagine she wouldn't want you to be a defender of the innocent. Be a Knight, Sokka. Raise your arm for those who can't raise theirs."
"Devote myself to an ideal," he murmured to himself. He looked up at her again. "We're a team, you and me. Trying to right wrongs."
She pecked him on the lips. "We are. Now get this white stuff all over my face." Realizing the inadvertent innuendo when Sokka's face sported a lascivious grin, she groaned. "Not like that, you pervert."
For the sake of timeliness, Sokka was able to let her get out enough expletives to satisfy her horror at the innuendo she'd unintentionally stated and paint her face a stark white at the same time, with black lines around her eyes and on her lips. When he was finished, he stood back and blew a chef's kiss.
"Perfect. Now… for weapons…" he dug around in the pack and pulled out two bone knives, stark ivory with blue wrappings around the bottom for the holder's comfort. "I think these might be your speed." She felt them – they were light, but sturdy.
"Whale bone is sturdy, but still, it's not metal. Try not to get them directly on armor – aim for the gaps, under the armpit and around the collar, or just below the navel."
"Don't worry."
"Trust me Princess… if there's one person I'd never worry about in a fight, it's you. Just make sure I don't get toasted while you're busy kicking ass and taking names."
Her eyes narrowed. "I swear to Agni, if you get captured again…"
He kissed her, spinning her off her feet and in a circle. "You'll come save me anyway, Princess."
Together, they flew Appa down from the cover of the clouds, towards their unsuspecting targets – seeking for once, not wanton violence or revenge, but in devotion of a higher ideal.
Redemption.
A/N: Enter the Temple of the Sacred Flame.
I really hope you guys don't mind the canon divergence too much. Like one reviewer astutely pointed out, I have more or less two paths I can take with this story - one is "Azula joins the Gaang and most everything stays the same as canon" or "Azula joins the Gaang and shit flies off the rails." I'm opting for choice number 2 here and I hope my writing abilities will be able to sustain the changes, because I really want to make this story the story it deserves to be, which is a little difficult in the pure canon framework.
Does this mean that canon is completely out the window? Not at all. Only certain things have changed, and the most important of them are entirely behind the scenes - namely the Order and the Temple waging a shadow war for their philosophies. This isn't an AU, but I had a bit of an idea day yesterday and the entire plot of the story (so far I only knew a few moments and the ending) has crystallized in my mind.
As an aside, if you were guessing that the mask I'm describing for the Grandmaster is like the one Darth Nihlus from Knights of the Old Republic, you'd be right. And yes - he basically did Vader choke Zhao out, but it wasn't airbending. As with all things, there is much for me to know and for you all to learn ;). If you're curious about what the symbol for the Sacred Flame, the Red Sun, looks like, take a look at the Black Sun criminal organization logo from Star Wars. It's like that but the spikes are equal length, and the little triangles aren't present.
If you also noticed that the opening phrase for entry to the Sacred Temple hideout was similar to the Dark Brotherhood from The Elder Scrolls, you are also correct! Placing little easter eggs for all my favorite fandoms is fun.
Please let me know what you think, drop a review, an angry PM, whatever suits your fancy! :)