Chapter 7: The Breakthrough

AN: Hello everyone, I'm back at last with another chapter. So sorry about that, grad school is killer.

Anyway, here's a chapter for you, and we finally get more characters coming into the story. Guess who, that's right Azula is here at last.

And as reward for your patience, I have the next chapter written and will post that in a little under two weeks (hopefully that will give me time to write the final for this arc and will have that and the Interlude out on a pretty regular schedule again.

Thank you everyone who commented favorited and followed. I do always enjoy seeing your thoughts, and the interest is very motivating.

Zuko arrived at the apartment alone. Night had fallen and the dark residence was slightly chilled by vacancy. As Lu Ten had said, there was a pot sitting next to the stove. Shuttering the nearby window, Zuko lit a low flame on the stove to warm it as he changed. He did so quickly, hoping no one would be joining him while he was still there.

He pulled his hair back into a tie, it was just barely long enough to hold a top knot. It felt tight, it seemed so long ago since he'd cut his phoenix plum. Perhaps it was not appropriate for him to wear, he was still banished, without honor; but he would not do what he was about to do as a nationless fugitive.

He paused when he picked up the mask. He'd found the first one at a neutral port's market not long after his exile, he'd recognized it from his mother's mask collection as well as the yearly viewing of Love Among the Dragons. That had been why he had bought it, the memories it held of his mother. Later, it had proved useful when he needed to sneak into Fire Nation territory for information so often denied him. There had been something amusingly ironic in using the face of the Dragon Emperor's antagonist as protection from the consequences of breaking the rules of his banishment. With Lu Ten's story, the mask had taken on another importance, it was proof his father did love him, that if he redeemed himself from his shame and failure, he would be welcomed and restored.

The tea was indeed much stronger than it had been that morning. He drank a few cups until his eye lids were no longer heavy and his blood felt hot as it pounding quickly through his body. He heard slow steps coming up the stairs outside. Putting on the mask, he left into the night in search of his destiny.

He was not in the mood to get into fights on his way, so he took the shadowed edges of streets as he went directly toward the reddish wall that contained the palace. The houses nearest were low and could not look over into the courtyard, but there was one vantage point a few buildings down. Atop it, he could look again at the flat stony expanse surrounding the palace, he could see segments of a perimeter guard and another set along the foot of the building itself. Going over the wall would bring too much attention from these military guards, but there was a river channel through the yard.

The palace complex was huge, the place itself looked rather small. But how to get to it? Below him were gardens and small opulent towns. Off in the distance there was a narrow gap in the vegetation and building arrangements that pointed directly to the far end of the stone pad infront of the palace. Pretty certain that this was a river, he descended to street level and went right, along the wall's exterior until he found the channel that cut, sunken, through the Upper Ring. The opening that the water flowed through was blocked by stone bars of the same pale sandstone as the walls. He went around the first block and dropped himself into the water, nowhere near as cold as the polar water of the North. Under the water, he found that centuries of running water had worn larger gaps between bars. Holding his swords in one hand, he could just get through, turning to keep the narrower angle of his body to pass between. Once inside the palace walls, he remained underwater, unwilling to draw attention by surfacing. He slung the scabbard back over his shoulder. Some part of him was gratified that the Fire Nation had the only capital citadel not accessible to intruder by a water system, it was, as he had proven, a major weakness in defense.

The moon's light was blocked above him and he took the cover of overhanging foliage for breath. Flowers hung amid the leaves, partially closed in the night. In the dimness he could see an arch ahead and the brightness of reflected moonlight beyond it. He continued down stream. The light above him became bright and eventually shaded again. A bridge, it had to be how else would there be access to this entrance across the channel. Surfacing, he did find a bridge above him. There was the rhythmic sound of soldiers on perimeter rounds. The walls of the channel were smooth and little purchase was available on them or the bridge's underside. He risked grabbing the edge near where it met the ground, having to kick off the smooth underwater channel wall to gain the height. Pulling his body up, foot in the slight lip behind the end of the bridge, he heated his water-heavy clothes dry, hoping the steam rising from under the bridge was less noticeable than the dripping, he needed not to be weighed down by water-logged clothes for the mad dash he was about to make.

He peered over his handhold at the grand staircase into the palace. The moon lit up the grey stone and glinted pale off the metal of the guards' helmets as they walked at 150-pace intervals.

Once the one guard had his back to him and the other had not yet rounded the corner, he made a dash for the steps. He made it up two dozen before he heard a shout behind him. That's when the rocks started slamming around him, blasting into steps and spraying him with fragments as he ran up the massive distance two steps at a time. He resisted the urge to turn and face the attack. One of the guards got in a good hit, as a stone smacked into his back just right of his spine. The sting and impact pushed him forward and down. He caught himself spread on all fours across several steps, as a rock exploded infront of him. Rocks continued, hitting closer to their unmoving target. He got up and continued. He realized that perhaps he needed a better plan. The ground trembled slightly under him in a way he was becoming familiar with. It was the attack he'd been waiting for, the attempt to break his stance or trap his feet. He jumped, sailing over 3 steps to avoid it but when he landed there was no longer a step. The staircase had been flattened into a slope. He fell back and rolled down a few turns. The slide was not smooth, small ledges where steps hadn't met cleanly and there were holes in the surface. He felt these on his back and legs as he tumbled. His hand found a ledge and held on, stopping his descent. The rough edge was jagged and dug into his fingers under the weight of his body. He'd thought it would be considerably easier to get into the palace. His foot found another divot and he was able to get back on his feet. Once no longer falling, the surface was steep but fairly simple to run up, the slight unevenness helped. Behind him, a guard was riding a stone outcrop up toward him. The bending was faster than he could run.

When it met him, he took a leap onto the tiny platform, as opposed to leaving himself bare to being knocked sideways down three stories. The quarters were tight, far too close to draw his swords. He ducked as the soldier made the first blow of hand-to-hand combat. From the duck, Zuko continued to drop until he was in a low squat ready to spin a leg into the offset stance. With his opponent off balance, weight on his back leg, Zuko stood back up and kicked the man directly in the chest. The guard fell back, and he ran for the entry hall, weaving once to avoid a pillar that appeared in his way.

Beyond the shallow portico of pillars a hallway leading inward was tall and fairly narrow. There were no doors, hiding in the places, or alternative routes until he came to foyer with three other halls leading off it. Down the short hall directly forward, there was an ornate door the whole width of the corridor and three times a man's height. Doubtless the throneroom. He'd thought his knowledge of palace layout would be advantageous in navigating once inside, so far he had been correct in the assumption. He took a right and ran as silently as he could watching the narrow doors go by. At the bend he turned left.

Running through the grand corridors—nevermind their cold and largely unadorned walls—he was reminded of fond old memories of running around the halls of the crown-prince's wing. Father didn't approve of running in the palace but Lu Ten, who had the run of the wing when Uncle was away, didn't mind them playing there. His tutors did though, shushing them, except one very old man who always left the study door open and smiled when they passed. He felt giddy with the knowledge he would soon be returning home.

Predictably, two guards with spears were on either side. They startled at the sudden appearance of a masked intruder. Their spears were quickly dispatched and he continued, not caring if they followed, he'd probably need witnesses anyway. The hall was coming to an end and there at last was the large door he'd been looking for. The two guards at the door helped differentiate it as well. These guards were better prepared than the last. Skidding to a halt infront of the door he ducked under the blade of a spear ready to cut him down. They may have been prepared for an intruder, they weren't prepared for fire. He spun on his heel and produced a sweeping kick of flame that knocked them back against the wall and blew open the door. Entering he briefly wondered if he would find the king's chambers immediately of have to wind through familial wings like home.

What he found was something inbetween. First, there was a long, narrow hall, running parallel to the one outside but extending beyond its end. The wall was smooth and reached up to the level of a second story that the short perpendicular hall lacked. Overall, it looked like walls had been moved and closed off to suite a smaller royal family. He heard the first pair of guards reach the doorway behind him and a brief exchange that there was a firebender in the palace.

The short hall had three doors, one on each wall, all wide and grand but the central was the most ornate. If there was one thing about palace architecture, it was that the hierarchies were always very clear. Opening the door, he entered a dark reception room, the furniture was different but set up in a familiar way. There was an actual door into the next room instead of a curtain. He pushed it open quietly but quickly since the guards weren't far behind and he couldn't afford to be stopped now when he was so close. There was a grand bed centrally located in the large room, the windows along the back wall were the only ones he'd seen in the palace so far.

Approaching the bed, he found the sleeping king. He was surprisingly young. A blade was set against the breast bone exposed out of the sheet and loose nightshirt. The steel's chill didn't wake the slumbering monarch as he'd expected it would. What did cause the king to startle awake, sitting up before freezing having at last noticed the blade now at his throat, was three guards storming into the bedchamber in a rush.

Zuko pressed his blade up guiding the king to sit up fully then stand just out of the bed enough for him to get behind the ruler, blades crossed in front of the man.

"King Kuei, you are now in enemy hands. Do you surrender?"

"Enemy… Y-Yes."

Tightening one blade so he could remove his mask with the other hand, he repeated in a more official meter. "I am Prince Zuko, son of Ursa and Firelord Ozai, do you, King Kuei of the Earth Kingdom surrender yourself and this city to Fire Nation control, relinquishing your authority?'

"Yes, I do."

At that moment through the open doors three young women half-dressed in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform advanced on the scene.

He swung one blade out, the blade turning to face out and waves of flame shot forward as a deterrent. "Stay back!"

They did not stop advancing, and the forwardmost of the three split the flames easily. "Calm down, Zuko. Don't let this sudden burst of initiative go to your head."

"Azula?"

The final wisps of fire hit against the wall and caught a torch hanging there, lighting up the room and its occupants. The guards seemed taken aback by the familiarity. Zuko could see the other girls with Azula, and he recognized them.

"Miss?" one of the guards asked.

"Ty Lee."

The shortest girl with a long braid jumped into action taking down the three guards in seconds with a flurry of precise blows, they fell in wakeful but senseless lumps. She bounced back past her former position and tumbled to stand to his right, bubbly, leaning forward, and grinning. She looked back at Mai—the other girl couldn't be anyone else—then back at him. Her head tilted. "Wow, Zuko, you're really starting to look like your dad from this angle."

"Y-You're not the Kyoshi Warriors?" The king asked the girls as his hands were bound securely behind him. Zuko couldn't understand why he hadn't and wasn't fighting back.

"Very clever, Your Majesty." Azula responded in a voice heavy with mockery and sarcasm. "Thank you for telling us all about your plans by the way. Let's get this cleaned up. I'm sure we can find a nice cell for the king."

"Wait." He tugged the king back a step and spoke to him "Where is the Avatar? I know he's here."

"He's not. He left… he left yesterday."

"You're lying. What room is he in?"

Azula rolled her eyes. "He's not lying. The Avatar had left when we arrived."

Zuko wanted to scream, to shout at the unfairness of the world. But he had to remain calm, he was conquering a city. Even if everything was going wrong: Azula was here, the Avatar was not. He was shaking slightly with anger and the king who was trembling with terror must have been able to feel it, as his tremors increased.

Two Dai Li agents came through the door. At the sight, Zuko grabbed the blade he'd set down on the bed and tightened his other hand around the bonds.

"Relax, they work for me."

This did not reassure him. The agents bound and collected the four guards and began moving out to the corridor.

Ty Lee stepped forward and took hold of the king's upper arm. "Come on, King Kuei, right this way." She said brightly and kindly guiding him away. "Nice knots by the way!" She grinned, looking over her shoulder at him.

Empty-handed, he put the second sword on his back with the other and took a step toward Mai, who'd been appraising him emotionlessly the whole time. He was intercepted by Azula grabbing his arm and pulling him into the opposite corner. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I was conquering Ba Sing Se and looking for the Avatar. What are you doing here?"

"Why must you ruin everything, you idiot?"

"What?"

"You thought capturing the Earth King was all you'd need to do to take the city?" Her frustration had morphed into the more familiar patronizing amusement.

He knew admitting that, yes he had, would be exactly what she expected and also make him stupid; but at the same time couldn't understand why that wouldn't have worked.

Apparently, his lack of response was answer enough and his confusion showed. "Oh Dum-Dum, the Earth King has no power, he's just a figurehead. The Council of Five are in charge of the War and the Dai Li run everything else. It was all supposed to come down tomorrow at once. Now we have to deal with the suspicion of a missing king until the rest can be taken down. Sorry to burst your bubble." She set her mouth into a very fake pout. "Poor Zuzu, no city and no Avatar. Looks like someone's not going home. If only I had a caged little bird that knows too much."

"What do you know?"

She smiled and began walking out of the royal chamber and he followed. Mai had already gone somewhere. A Dai Li agent joined them at a motion from Azula. Zuko side-eyed the agent and found he was getting a wary survey right back. They came to a wall in one of the lower floors, which the agent opened. There was a cave-like cavity opening below, bright with tight from pale green crystal walls. He took a step back from the doorway, it was clearly a cell and he was reminded that Azula had no reason to help him and every to capture him.

But it wasn't empty a dark figure in blue stood up and walked into dear view. "You won't get away with this." Her glare alighted on him, "I knew you were up to something!"

"Where's the Avatar?"

"Like I'd tell you." She crossed her arms and looked away stubbornly.

"Doesn't matter. He's coming back or he will be."

"You won't use me as bait again." She made a run for the opening, the agent closed it up before she got close.

"The rest will be back for her."

"You're sure? They've split up before."

"They have, but not for long. They always come back for each other."

"I see why you've had so much trouble then." She teased. "Speaking of splitting up. Where's Uncle?"

"We had… a falling out."

"Good. I've got a trap laid to catch the traitor. Would you like to come along?"

"No. I'll help with the Council."

"Suit yourself." She walked on with alittle more spring in her sure steps, like she was pleased.

He stopped in the hall. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" She asked, oh so innocently.

"Last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me, before that arresting me; now I apparently mess up your plans and your... involving me."

She sighed and faced him. "Because you did manage to obtain the king's surrender to you, with witnesses. He may not have power, but he is the king, so that means something in all this. And I'm alittle short-handed." With the last admission, she spared a glare for the mask hanging from his wrist. "This is your chance, make the most of it."

"We can trade the girl for the Avatar, he'll give himself up in exchange."

"Really?"

"He's done it before."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Their escapes involved a glacier and pirates." He explained, defensively.

"Hopefully, you've gotten more competent since Spring."

"He may not seem like much, but when we do this, don't make the Avatar angry."

"Please, Zuko, he's a twelve-year-old, and a pacifist. Don't exaggerate to cover your own inadequacy; it makes you sound cowardly."

"I'm not a coward." He seethed. "That might be the form he takes, but its still the Avatar. The same Avatar that destroyed the old throne room. You didn't see him rise 100 feet on a column of water and clear the deck of my ship in a single motion; you weren't at the North Pole to see an entire fleet sunk by him; you weren't—" he cut himself off, he couldn't admit to this one that he'd couldn't admit to this one, that he'd broken his banishment.

"The incident on Crescent Island?"

He gulped.

"Oh we know about that little trespass of yours, it was in Zhao's report, and the sages told the whole ridiculous story."

"Avatar Roku did appear, and he destroyed the entire temple by bending lava up through it."

"Ok, fine, I get it. Agni, Zuko, you're so dramatic." She continued walking, waving him off dismissively. "Busy morning ahead. Get some rest, you look awful. And fix your hair, it's a disgrace."

He reached up to feel his hair. At the touch, the tie gave up its last hold and hair fell down into its now usual mop, his scalp prickling from the relieved stress of the tie.