Broken Apart
4
The rhythmic sound of the engines hummed constantly across the airship. Footsteps echoed down the corridors, their sound rebounding in the inhabitable tiers of the massive aircraft, ever serving as a reminder that she wasn't truly alone, no matter if she wished to be.
Azula had locked herself in the cabin she had been assigned – she had been given no courtesies, no luxuries worthy of her title, a title she suspected she could scarcely even consider hers anymore. Her small, limited room had but a small window of red panes positioned so high in the wall that she couldn't even try to glimpse the horizon. She lacked the strength to climb off her bed to do so, even if she'd had any motivation to attempt that.
The clearest proof that she had been granted absolutely no privileges was the lack of a privy in her quarters. She had a simple basin for washing her face and another on the floor, in which she likely was meant to take care of her daily necessities. It felt vindictively degrading, though with how little food and drink she'd consumed lately, she expected she wouldn't need to use it at all…
She was proven wrong about that assumption in an unforeseen way.
Right now, she held the large metal basin between her hands as she sat at the edge of the bed, her twisting, lurching stomach refusing to unclench, although there was certainly no more content inside it… nothing but whatever shreds of bile lingered inside her system after her latest round of retching. Her hands trembled, her head ached, droplets of sweat trickled down her forehead…
Maybe she was dying.
A furious thought slammed into her head so hard she flinched: no, she wasn't dying, and if she was, Xin Long would ram into that damn airship and release her from it to save her. There was no way he would let his rider die, no matter how devastating her depression and misery might be.
Azula let out a soft, humorless laugh at how fiercely he defended her against herself. It was easy to forget her thoughts weren't only hers, not unless she actively shut Xin Long away… and she didn't want to. She needed him to be her voice of reason… just as she needed to be his, as well.
"Stop…" she whispered, softly, her voice weak: she hadn't used it since she had boarded the airship, well over twelve hours ago. "Take a break, Xin. You… you can't follow us this way. Take a break…"
Her pleas went ignored: Xin Long insisted he could keep up, in fact, he could even fly faster than the damn airship could. He would take a nap in any nearby islands whenever he was genuinely tired, but for now, he'd continue to follow her.
"You're… you're as stubborn as…" Azula started, but she grinded her teeth painfully: she couldn't even utter his name. It hurt too badly.
Xin would be exhausted, at this rate. However effortless he tried to pass flying as, she knew that wasn't the case. He would need to slow down eventually, to eat…
As did she, and she had left almost every meal untouched ever since they had left the South Pole.
Xin Long's interjection caused Azula to flinch and shake her head. The mere thought of food made her sicker than she already felt. Even Xin Long's attempts to evoke hunger by sending her thoughts of her favorite meals went to waste: she didn't want to think of mochi or of Jiare's noodles. Both things brought her mind back to him, in the end… and she didn't want to evoke thoughts of blissful happiness, of careless comfort and peace, anymore. One day, maybe, the memories would soothe her. Right now, knowing she would never regain what she had lost drained her from all positive emotions, from any hopes of seeing her circumstances improving. She'd have to eat something eventually, but her mind processed no hunger, her stomach continued to twist and turn and…
Another lurch, and another heave: again, the damn metal basin received whatever bile her body continued to produce, which only compelled her to throw up again. Cursing mentally, Azula waited until the last of the retching had passed before setting aside that basin and approaching the clean one, filled with water.
She rinsed her mouth, spitting the water back into the other basin before repeating the process again… the liquid swirling against her aching gums and tongue appeared to bring her to understand the ill state of her body, and to beckon her to swallow some water already. Even if she didn't want food, she needed water to stay alive, whether she liked it or not.
Azula groaned, unsure whether her conscience or her dragon ushered her to be more responsible with her health. Maybe there was no difference between both things anymore, come to think of it…
A small jar with water rested on a nightstand, right by her small bed, intended for a single person. She could barely remember the last time she had slept on such a small mattress… and she didn't want to remember, either, for that would only make everything worse…
Thoughts of Sokka's strong arms wrapped around her frame compelled her to release a frustrated cry before she reached for the jar of water: she didn't even pick up a cup, bringing the full jar to her lips and swallowing three mouthfuls of water carelessly fast before setting it down. Her chest heaved, her shoulders rose and fell, her breathing was uneven…
Xin Long prodded at her mind gently, letting her know she had made a good choice – at least, he hoped so –, but Azula breathed out and shook her head as she returned to the small bed, climbing on it while shuddering unpleasantly.
Whether she was dying or not, she felt like hell. She had nearly gotten her arm cleaved off a few months ago: even back then, she didn't remember experiencing anything like the strange, toxic cloud that seemed to have taken hold of her senses. Every inch of her body hurt, and the very thought of making choices to protect and preserve her health made her sicker than she already was. The simple concept of stepping outside this room, even if she had been allowed to, and breathing in fresh air… no, she would rather stay here for good. To let her mind be consumed by her sorrow, to cling to her grief like a treasure she never wished to let go of…
When her mind decided to revisit the past this time, she didn't stop it. Once, she had traveled proud and strong, in this very same direction, after departing the South Pole as well… bringing a broken, wounded man with her, a man she had never expected would become vital to her very existence, as he had only a few years later. Now, it was she who was broken… it was she who was a prisoner, fated to wind up in the Fire Lord's merciless hands when the wretched airship finally reached its destination.
She wished this trip on the airship would last forever… for she knew she wasn't ready to face her father. The strongest dread nestled in her empty chest, reminding her of how she had underestimated Ozai's wrath in the past. He had inflicted unforgivable crimes against her through his orders, he had refused to acknowledge her honor even when she had declared she would face the consequences of her own actions… he had attempted to force her into a marriage she could never want, all be it to punish her for her alleged betrayal of him and their nation.
What would he do next? He'd had almost two whole weeks to plan this, to plot any new strategies to retaliate against her. Zhao had likely already communicated that he was on his way back, with her in custody… whatever schemes he'd concocted, he'd be free to put them into action as soon as she arrived. And what would be better, at this point? To resist still… or to accept whatever punishment Ozai intended to force upon her, so long as it meant he would focus all his wrath on her?
She had a few more days left to ponder the answer to that question: as fast as the airships might be, the journey to the Fire Nation Capital wouldn't end that quickly, and Azula was grateful for that. A few more days of this imprisonment… before she traded this cell for another kind of captivity, and a far worse one, at that. Whatever she'd face back in the Fire Nation, she knew she'd long for this silence, for this chance to grieve by herself, even for the choice to do nothing, to refuse food if she so pleased… for a final opportunity to breathe on her terms before she crumpled into ashes under the flames of her father's wrath, reduced to nothing but the fading remnants of the proud Princess she had once been.
His back creaked when he came back to consciousness. He writhed, cringing as he changed positions in his sleeping bag… the soft furs brushed his skin delicately, and he resented them for it. For a moment, he allowed himself the pointless, painful, wishful hope that he might open his eyes to find her beside him… a vain hope, of course, as he confirmed upon opening his eyes.
He breathed in slowly, glancing across his room: it was largely unchanged, less messy than it had been when he had last slept there. Furs decorated the walls, reminding him of the first time he'd finished a successful hunt. A cluster of old toys from his early childhood, with too much emotional value to be discarded, sat in a corner. Lanterns, some old, some new that he hadn't crafted himself, fishing rods that had seen plenty of use after he was gone, a few fishing spears too, some of them broken, prototypes of smoke bombs that had failed in numerous ways… cabinets where he kept clothes, which he would tuck into place clumsily only for Katara or Kanna to scold him for not being more careful with his valuable garments…
Memories, everywhere. Callbacks to a past he had wished to reclaim… but not this way. Not just yet. Not right now…
The last place his eyes settled on was another corner of the room: his bags, the ones he'd brought from the Fire Nation, had been placed there, strangers within a world they didn't belong in. A world Sokka wasn't sure he belonged in anymore, either.
His sword's hilt and his club's handle protruded from the bags. They were memories, too, of a past he couldn't renounce yet. Of a yesterday still so fresh in his mind he couldn't even imagine letting go… and yet he didn't want to pick up those weapons anytime soon.
He pushed himself up to a sitting position and the covers rolled down his body until they pooled around his waist. Hakoda had helped him back to his room after his catastrophic exit from his feast: he had lacked the strength to eat anything else, to face the people he owed a thousand more answers to… all of which continued to convince him of how worthless he'd become. Of how despicable his own people would think him to be… surely, all of them would have heard by now about the revelations he'd offered his family after he left the feast. They might be actively regretting arranging such a grand celebration for him, at this point…
Voices outside his room did nothing to encourage him to step outside and face his family. Katara seemed to have said something to Kanna… and then Sokka heard the front door slamming closed. She was furious, then. Of course she was…
He sighed, pulling up his knees, crossing his arms over them. He let his head rest upon his forearms: this was exactly what he had expected… so what right did he have to complain, or to be frustrated over his sister's reactions? If she had accepted it easily, he'd be frustrated out of not deserving any of her compassion. Whether he deserved her fury or not, he didn't know… but he didn't have it in him to beg Katara not to hate him, if that was how she felt about him by now.
He didn't want to step out of this room at all, expecting to be better off in here than answering questions or jumping into arguments with people who wouldn't understand what he'd been through – and he couldn't blame them for that, could he? –, but a light knocking sound against the threshold that led to his room caused him to raise his head warily just before his grandmother pushed past the curtain that hung there: her kind smile caused his chest to hurt, again.
"Gran-Gran…" he said, and she grinned even more widely.
"You're awake. I didn't know if you'd be up yet, dear," she said, pushing the curtain carefully and stepping into the room: she carried a bowl in her hands, and Sokka gritted his teeth at the sight of it. "Your father's out, talking to some of the villagers, so I'm in charge of making sure you eat properly now that you're awake."
"You didn't have to…" he said, but his grandmother had often been a most adorable kind of stubborn, doing as she pleased to look after her loved ones.
Sokka tossed the flap of the sleeping bag aside, jumping to his feet to take the bowl into his hand before Kanna sat down, hoping to spare her from the physical efforts on her joints… only for Kanna to sit regardless, once he was holding the bowl. Sokka sighed, smiling sadly upon finding the whimsical old woman had changed very little since he had left the tribe.
"I managed to put away a lot of it, your favorite prune stew," Kanna said proudly, and Sokka's smile gained warmth at her words as he joined her on the floor. "I didn't want everyone else to eat all of it, I'm sure you mustn't have had prune stew in a long time…"
"In… forever, feels like," Sokka admitted, bringing the bowl to his lips and sipping softly: the familiar taste flooded him, and his cursed mind inevitably brought him to wonder if Azula would have liked this dish or found it utterly inedible…
"Well, enjoy it now, my dear. You don't look like you're famished, but you haven't eaten much lately," Kanna said, reaching out a hand to clasp Sokka's free one, as he devoured more of the stew quickly. "I'm sure you'll need plenty of food to stay as strong as you are now…"
"I… I guess so," Sokka said upon swallowing, setting down the half-finished bowl and wiping his mouth with his hand afterwards. Kanna smiled anew, and Sokka gritted his teeth as he gazed at her. "Did… did Dad tell you about…?"
"About what you spoke of, once you left the feast?" Kanna asked. Sokka breathed deeply and nodded. "Of course he did. He is my son, he has no choice but to tell me things… though Katara had much more to say about it, of course."
"Nothing good, I suppose," Sokka mumbled.
"Your sister is still young in many ways, my dear," Kanna said, stroking his knuckles gently with her thumb. "She is emotional and has been through many hardships as it is. Hearing that you didn't return of your own volition was a most unpleasant mouthful for her to swallow."
"Isn't it one for you too?" Sokka asked, with a small voice. "Don't you… resent me?"
"Resent you? Why, how could I ever resent my grandson?" Kanna said, smiling gently before raising a hand to cup Sokka's cheek. "Such a handsome young man you are… and you've been through so much more than I can even imagine, my boy. For me… it is enough that you could come home at all."
"Is it really?" Sokka asked, softly. "I… I don't know how much you were told, Gran-Gran, but I…"
"You loved that girl. The Princess, isn't that right?" Kanna said. Sokka gritted his teeth, unable to hold her gaze. "Yes, you certainly did. Well, as much as Katara may be distraught about the whole subject, dear, we always knew that was a possibility: Suki said as much from the moment she and Zuko arrived, you see…"
"Suki… she did?" Sokka blinked blankly, astonished. Kanna smiled and shrugged.
"Your sister has had much time to come to terms with this possibility. That your girl even admitted she loved you too should have made matters clearer for Katara, too…"
"You know about that too…?" Sokka asked: a tender memory, and yet again a source of pain… but somehow, that unbelievable moment didn't quite hurt the way many others did… not when his grandmother had been the one to bring it up.
"Aang had to tell us that part," Kanna laughed. "But yes, I knew that. And I don't see how it should make me resent you…"
"It doesn't matter to you, that she's the Fire Lord's daughter?" Sokka asked, softly.
"If it didn't matter to you, why would it matter to me?" Kanna said, with a small smile. Sokka was rendered speechless by her matter-of-factly response. "You made your own choices, dear, much as I did when I traveled to the south. If you found love with someone, and it was true… and she was no less than the Fire Lord's daughter, then I would hope that could mean there was some hope for the betterment of this world. I would hope you were happy, and that she knew to appreciate a man as good as you are… but if she truly fought her own father to protect you and bring you back to us, I have no doubts she understood how valuable you are, dear."
Sokka breathed deeply, hanging his head as Kanna smiled kindly still, reaching for his hand once more. He squeezed her fingers gently, unwilling to raise his head.
"I… I was happy," he admitted, as his throat tightened. "We both were… for a long time. But now… it feels like it wasn't long enough."
"Oh, that is the true cruelty of love, Sokka…" Kanna said, patting his hand gently. "The more you have of it, the more you cling to it and the more vital it becomes for you. Thus, the harder it is to let go… the harder it is to be satisfied with just a moment, with just memories of a beautiful past or dreams of a future you cannot share anymore. And even then… even then, it's worth it. If it's true love… you cannot regret giving your heart to them, no matter how battered and broken it may be once they're out of reach."
Sokka breathed deeply again and nodded: the wisdom he had never sought, that as a young man he had taken for granted, now was worth everything to him. His father, his grandmother… both had so much to share, so many teachings he couldn't have understood back then, not as deeply as he could now.
A soft knock on the front door surprised Kanna. Sokka closed his eyes, willing whoever it was to go away… but he rose to his feet when his grandmother attempted to do the same.
"I'll go," he said, offering her a half-hearted smile.
"Ah, help me up even if you will, dear…" Kanna laughed softly, and Sokka's smile gained more conviction as his arms wrapped around his grandmother's frame delicately, offering her proper support while doing his best not to hurt her unintentionally. "Goodness, but you've grown strong, Sokka… Thank you."
"I'm the one who ought to be thanking you, Gran-Gran," he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his grandmother's head before marching towards the door.
He breathed deeply again before swinging it open, half-expecting a mob of some sort, demanding retribution over how he'd misled them for a whole day into trusting him and believing in him… only to find, instead, a surprisingly compassionate smile on the face of the single visitor that stood before the igloo's door.
"Suki?" Sokka blinked blankly: she had been there last night. He could barely remember what had been said, what he himself had blurted out in the worst of his outburst… but Suki hadn't rejected his confessions. She hadn't seemed affronted, the way Katara was. Nor had she fallen utterly silent, as Zuko had…
"Morning… I suppose?" Suki said, grinning awkwardly as she glanced back at the horizon: not a single sliver of sunlight sparked anywhere in the distance, and she turned to Sokka again. "I know you might not feel up for a visit, friendly or otherwise… but I thought I'd check on you anyway, if that's alright."
"What about… your kids?" Sokka asked, swallowing hard. "You didn't bring them…?"
"No, I didn't know if it'd be a good idea. Mari's too smart for her own good, but she's also slightly scared of you, for some reason," Suki smiled awkwardly. "Zuko's staying with them for now."
"Oh… I see," Sokka said, stepping back to allow Suki through the steps that led inside the igloo.
He dared glance out at the village once Suki entered his family home: a handful of people stared at him, but no longer did they cheer or smile as they had before. His chest ached again, as though he had been stabbed across it… but he simply lowered his gaze and closed the door behind himself anew.
"Ah! You can have some sea prunes too if you want, dear…" Kanna was telling Suki once Sokka climbed down the stairs. Suki laughed and shook her head.
"You made that for Sokka, Kanna, and I only just ate. Don't worry about me," she said, patting the older woman's shoulder gently.
"Oh, if you're sure…" Kanna smiled, glancing at Sokka. "You two were friends back in the Fire Nation, isn't that right?"
"Well… not for too long, but yeah," Suki smiled a little, shrugging as Sokka stepped up to them. "Truthfully, I only realized how little I knew about your grandson when we got here and I had next to nothing to share about him with all of you…"
"Really?" Sokka asked, puzzled. Suki laughed softly as Kanna grinned too, reaching out for Sokka's hand to squeeze it gently.
"I'll give you two kids some privacy, then. I'm sure you have plenty to talk about," she said.
"Want me to help you with…?" Sokka asked, but Kanna shook her head as she let go of him.
"I can go to the bathroom on my own, now, can't I?" she said, winking teasingly at him. Sokka grimaced but nodded, prompting Kanna and Suki to laugh as the older woman stepped towards the igloo's entrance by herself.
Sokka watched her go wordlessly for a moment, unwilling to move until she had left the igloo and closed the door behind herself. She hadn't tripped over the steps or had any other such mishaps… so she was alright. She was fine.
Had Sokka always felt this overpowering need to protect his grandmother, or was it more intense nowadays, somehow? She felt so frail and small now… and yet she was still remarkably strong in every sense that counted.
"She'll be okay," Suki assured him, and Sokka nodded.
"I know, I know. I just… have to get used to things around here again, I guess," he said, turning towards her anew.
"There's been a lot of changes since the last time you were here, yeah," Suki said, shedding her parka as she approached the igloo's hearth. "Though I hope you'll think they're good changes…"
"I hope so too," Sokka said, with a tight-lipped grin. "Guess you and the other newcomers made things more interesting for the Tribe…"
"That's what your father says often, yeah," Suki smiled, taking her seat on a comfortable cushion. "Say… in case you're worried, Zuko's going to be fine. You said… well, a lot of things last night, and he was shocked by plenty of it, but he'll be fine."
"You're sure?" Sokka asked, gritting his teeth as he moved to sit opposite to her. "The minute I… I explained how I wound up here, he seemed to shut down and didn't say a single word afterwards."
"Well… admittedly, he's always been a little silly in ways he shouldn't be," Suki smiled awkwardly, sitting down too. "I'd told him enough times that, well… that you and his sister might have had a more complicated relationship than he used to think you did. But I don't know if that's what's blown his mind or… or that the Fire Lord has done what he's done."
"Hopefully, it's the second thing," Sokka whispered, brow furrowed. "He… he knows first-hand what a piece of shit his father is. They're both better off away from him, but…"
"But she's choosing to protect us all, huh?" Suki said, gritting her teeth.
"Not just us… the Fire Nation, too," Sokka admitted, breathing deeply. "She… she said that if she didn't return, he was likely to attempt having a new kid, another heir, someone he'd control more closely than he did with her, someone he'd corrupt for good… and that he'd likely trample over every good thing she's tried to do to reform the Fire Nation, too. She thought she could try to put a stop to those things if she went back, but… I have a hard time believing Ozai wouldn't do his worst to her once she's within his reach again. What he's done already is… is bad enough that she might never recover from it."
"And she still went back…" Suki said, sighing and shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Sokka. This has to be… it has to be a nightmare for you."
"It is one," Sokka said, letting his gaze travel towards the fire, orange, soft and simple, underneath the pot of stewed sea prunes his grandmother had prepared for his sake.
"Well, I… I came by to check on you," Suki said, glancing at him warily. "Offer to hear you out if you need someone to do that. I mean… as far as I can tell, we've become family in some ways. It might be harder for the others to wrap their heads around your reality… but the truth is I always had the feeling you and Azula, well…"
"Always?" Sokka repeated, raising his eyebrows. Suki smiled and shrugged.
"Alright, not always, but ever since I met her, and more than that, when I saw you two together for the first time…" she said, biting her lip. "It's kind of hard to think you were just professional associates after you leapt to hug one of the most intimidating people in the world as soon as you laid eyes upon her…"
"Oh… huh," Sokka blurted out a soft, humorless laugh at the memory: his eyes softened, as did his grin once he recalled how flustered she had been that day.
"All I'm trying to say is… I don't know how long it'll take everyone to really understand this," Suki sighed. "Might be some of them never will want to, I don't know. Just… know you have a friend in me, Sokka. And a pretty big supporter of your relationship with her, too. It's obviously not much help anymore, I know, but… you two always seemed to fit just right together."
"We… we really did," Sokka said, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Suki. It means a lot."
"It's no trouble," Suki said, nodding. "Feel free to drop by our igloo whenever you want, whether if you need to vent about anything… or if you want to try to help Mari get used to you faster, too. She might not grow much fonder of you, I'll warn you, but she might ease up somewhat if she gets to know you a little better."
"I… I'll think about it," Sokka said, swallowing hard. He wasn't sure he wanted to help that little girl get used to him, for he wasn't sure he could get used to her, either. Not when her golden eyes reminded him of Azula's as much as they did.
"Alright, then… guess that's what I wanted to say," Suki finished, offering Sokka a somewhat dry grin that he answered with raised eyebrows.
"Doesn't look like that's all, somehow…" he said. Suki grimaced and lowered her head.
"Okay, you can tell me to get out right the way I came, if you want," she said, with a sad smile. "But I just… I guess I'm curious about a few things. I probably shouldn't be asking any questions now, though, it's… it's probably just going to make things worse for you, so if you'd rather I didn't…"
"Heh… can you believe we've come full circle?" Sokka snorted, smiling a little as Suki froze in place. "But you're more considerate than me anyway. I just… barged into your room and started shooting questions at you without thinking it through, didn't I? Back in the day…"
"Ah… yeah, I guess it's similar," Suki acknowledged, smiling too. "But, see… that's precisely what I was wondering about. I, well… wanted to know if you knew, and I figure if someone did, it's you… why did she do it? Why… why did Azula save me?"
Sokka's amusement receded at that question as he glanced at Suki with uncertainty. She shrugged, smiling guiltily.
"I've spent years going over it in my head, and while I've thought it probably was your doing somehow, I just wanted to know for sure. If you don't know that's fine, but…"
"It… it was my doing, to a fault," Sokka admitted, and Suki raised her gaze to meet his, astonished. "But… not quite the way you might think."
"Well, I can't pretend I was all that attached to any of my theories," Suki said, resting her chin on her hand. "I asked her about it the first time I met her and… well, she just gave me really dismissive answers. I had the feeling she didn't like me at all, which just made it even weirder that she'd asked Ty Lee to find me, specifically…"
"Well, that… is my fault. Certainly," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "I bet you two would've gotten along so much better if… if I hadn't been an idiot when we first met."
"When you and her first met? Or…?" Suki said, frowning as Sokka shook his head. "Wait. Wait…"
"The truth is, I… I already had started having feelings for her, back when I fought you that time," Sokka admitted, breathing deeply. "But I just… wasn't ready for those feelings at all. I made every bad choice I possibly could have… all because I was scared I'd end up, well, worse off than I am right now, I guess. I didn't know her well, I didn't understand her at all, and I just made awful choices to protect myself, without thinking of how badly I might hurt her by it all. Without thinking of how unfair I was, too, by acting as I did, not only to her, but to you…"
"All your flirting and the date nonsense…" Suki said, raising an eyebrow. Sokka grimaced and lowered his head. "You were trying to get over her? You… were trying to push her away by pretending you were into me?"
"I… was using you, yeah," Sokka admitted, breathing deeply and shaking his head. "Like I said… I was an idiot about the whole thing. Not just to her, but to you as well. I know this is all news to you now, but the truth is I'm sorry for all of it, have been for years. You deserve an apology for sure."
"Well, it wasn't that devastating for me, if you really need to know…" Suki said, with an awkward smile. "Everyone makes stupid mistakes here and there… though yours got the Princess to hate me, huh? And here I had hoped I'd get along with my sister-in-law…"
"You would. I swear, you would," Sokka said, smiling sadly.
"If things turn out for the best and I do get to meet her again someday, I'll hold you personally responsible if we don't," Suki said, raising a threatening finger in his direction. Sokka laughed softly, nodding in acknowledgement of Suki's words. "Though… that still doesn't explain why she saved me. I mean… I'm assuming she wasn't happy about our fight, or our weird date, but did she like you too, back then?"
"Yeah… that was the problem," Sokka said. "I didn't think it was that bad if I liked her one-sidedly, but… but if she had feelings for me too, it made things complicated, and I thought I didn't want to deal with anything that complicated. So, I… acted like a moron, and I did many stupid things I shouldn't have. Enough of them that she nearly ditched me for good after the worst of it. But then we… we worked things out over time. It took a while, but we decided to stick to just a professional relationship and set aside our feelings for each other… which, of course, didn't work out at all. Sometime later, when we were struggling between keeping true to our promise to not get swayed by our feelings, or just discarding that promise altogether, we heard about what happened to you and I… I asked her, or rather, demanded that she did something to help you once she told me what kind of place Shu Wo was. She didn't agree to it, though… she said she couldn't buy every slave just because I asked her to, though she told me she intended to do something to help slaves anyway, in the future. But I just… didn't really see her side at first. I realized how much pressure I was putting on her a few hours later, and I intended to apologize for it, but then we ended up in a Pairs Tournament and that was so chaotic the whole thing slipped my mind until we returned…"
"Ah, I remember you guys were abroad because of that…" Suki said, smiling and nodding.
"I didn't ask her to do it again after that first time. I tried to patch things up between us, and she was acting distant, but eventually things went back to normal, I thought. And I… I definitely didn't ask her to use the favor Ty Lee owed her to help you," Sokka said, swallowing hard and breathing deeply. "When we came back, and Mai told me you were at her house, I… I couldn't believe it. In the end, she did save you… she chose to do it of her own volition, even if she could have chosen to do nothing instead. And she achieved the unthinkable years later: the Enforcers, Suki… the slavery laws. She worked so hard for all of it… she did her best and saved so many lives with her choices. So… she came through with all promises, even with the promises she never made."
"Even when she didn't like me at all, too," Suki reasoned, with a sad smile. "Then… I was right. She did it for you, because you asked her to, despite everything. I always figured you might have been the reason why I was saved, somehow, but even that sounded a bit strange. We didn't exactly know each other well, and that date was, eh…?"
"The worst one of your life?" Sokka guessed. Suki blinked blankly before grimacing.
"Second-worst, if you really want to know," she said, surprising him. "Well, I'm not proud of this at all, believe me… but back in Kyoshi Island I, uh, agreed to go out with a guy. And he was, well… a little bit excitable? And no, I don't mean in a dirty sense… I hope, anyway. Maybe he was excited in that way too, come to think of it…"
"This is getting weirder and weirder the more you explain it," Sokka said, blinking blankly as Suki laughed and shook her head.
"Well, the bottom line is he had a knack for… literally foaming at the mouth when he was happy about, well, anything," Suki explained, shrugging. "I have no idea why, but even just the smallest thing got him going and it was…"
"Disgusting?" Sokka asked, unsure if he should pity Suki or be amused by her story.
"You have no idea," she said, and Sokka smiled, despite himself. "As strange as our date was, there was no way you could beat… that. So, second-worst, if it makes you feel any better."
"It makes me feel bad for you, if anything," he said, with a weak grin as Suki chuckled and shook her head. "No wonder you're so happy with Zuko. No crazy foaming, and he wasn't using you for his nefarious ends…"
"Oh, I certainly lucked out in the end, yeah," Suki smiled warmly, thinking of her husband. "But he's sure the one who's lucky is him, no matter how many times I tell him otherwise. I know you two never got along all that well, but… believe it or not, living here has done wonders for us both. He's grown into an amazing man, so much stronger than who he was when I first met him… all because he was given a chance. I know that it'll be hard for you to adjust again, after everything you've been through… but I don't think your tribe will be all that unforgiving, you know? Just… give them some time. They admire you and respect you lots, and I doubt that's going to change just because they don't understand the bond you had with her."
"I'm not sure I have it in me to try to explain anything to anyone," Sokka admitted, lowering his gaze. "Truth be told… I'm glad you always thought something was going on between us."
"Because it was, right?" Suki asked. "Going by what you said…"
"We… we were together already, yeah, when I hugged her in front of all of you," Sokka admitted, with a small grin. Suki huffed and raised a fist proudly.
"I knew it," she said, and Sokka smiled, despite himself.
"You don't think it's crazy… or wrong," he said. "You… you would've supported us if you'd known all along, right?"
"Of course," Suki said, smiling kindly. "Despite everything, I've always believed she was a better person than she let on…"
"She's the greatest there ever was, for sure," Sokka determined, and Suki smiled fondly at him. "She made me better. Brought out the best in me and… and always believed I could go even further, rise higher, than I already had…"
"If that's how it is, how could I not support you?" Suki said. "The last times I saw you, before I left with Zuko… you might as well have been the happiest man in the whole world, Sokka. However difficult things must have been for you lately… the two of you must have had great times together too, long before any of this mess happened. Right?"
Sokka breathed deeply and nodded, again feeling the urge to cry, though he did his best to bottle it up now. Suki offered him a sympathetic smile, but she had the feeling no offers of kindness, no gestures of any sort, would appease the broken man who sat across her. It was hard to conciliate the cheerful, beaming goofball she remembered from her last days in the Fire Nation with the miserable and sorrowful one sitting across her… she couldn't even begin to imagine what hardships he had faced, not only when parting ways with Azula, but during everything that led to their separation, too.
"I don't know if there's anything I can say that might help at all at this point, but… well, like I said earlier, we're as good as family, as far as I can tell," Suki said, with a gentle smile. "Feel free to… to visit and spend time with your nieces whenever you want to. And if you need to talk about this to someone… well, there's bound to be a few of us who'll hear you out, not just me. I know not everyone will be ready, but still…"
"I… can't really say I feel like talking about it much yet," Sokka admitted, breathing slowly. "It's… it's too fresh still. Not even a week ago, I… I still woke up with her in my arms. It's not easy… accepting she's gone. I don't think I have yet. I… still think maybe she'll turn the Barge around and change her mind. I still think maybe I'll wake up and find this is all a bad dream, and I know no one would forgive me for thinking so…"
"Well, most people who would feel that way just… haven't been through what you have, Sokka," Suki whispered, softly. "Most people who cannot understand… they're just afraid of accepting the world can be far more complicated, that life can be far more complicated, than they want to think it is. They couldn't understand me either, you know? I… I had to blurt out what I went through in Shu Wo to your sister before she truly believed that I'd been saved by good Fire Nation people, even if mistreated by bad ones too. Even then, they didn't want to accept Zuko, not for a very long time, because it's so much easier to think that the Fire Lord's influence corrupts everything. Admittedly, Zuko didn't make things easier, either…"
"I guess he wasn't very patient," Sokka said, but Suki shook her head.
"More than that, he… kind of relapsed, I guess? If that makes sense," Suki said, breathing deeply. "When he found out Aang was the Avatar, he… he seemed to have a leave of his senses until I snapped him out of it myself. He seemed to think that he could just nab Aang and drag him back to the Fire Nation to prove he was no failure, to make his father respect him… I told him that, if he intended to try, he'd do it alone because I'd have no part in it. I knew he was better than that, and of course he was. But…"
"Everyone distrusted him and assumed he might still decide to drag Aang back to the Fire Nation even though he changed his mind?" Sokka finished. Suki shrugged.
"Not sure if everyone, but… most everyone, yeah," she admitted. "They grew used to him over time. And, well, after Whaletail Island, he was pretty much the village's hero. Most of them didn't want to think much about the fact that it was his sister's money, that she's the one who helped us all. I guess your dad and your grandmother thought it was a good thing, but I don't know if anyone else did…"
"They're so much more understanding than I thought they'd be… I'm not sure I deserve it," Sokka admitted. Suki shook her head but smiled.
"Of course you do. I know you can have trouble recognizing things for what they are right now, but don't doubt it, Sokka. If… if she could change and improve the Fire Nation as much as she did while only being Crown Princess, then I have no doubt you can help your Tribe the same way she helped her people. You two are capable of… of the craziest and most unbelievable feats, right? I saw you defeating the Millennium Dragon with my own eyes, something I'd have thought impossible… and hell knows how much stronger you've become since then, too. So… help them understand, little by little, while understanding them, too. You've been in their shoes… you know why they hate the Fire Nation, you were born and raised here, and I have no doubts you must have seen the world quite like they did, once before…"
"Before she found me again," Sokka confirmed, clenching his jaw.
"Then you know it's a long journey, a difficult one, but it's one your people are already on. Even your sister is on it, no matter if she'll pretend otherwise," Suki smiled. "They've learned to accept Kino, then Zuko… one day, they'll accept her too. Whether she's here or not… they'll understand she was the woman you intended to spend your life with. They'll learn to respect that. Just… give it time."
Sokka breathed deeply but nodded slowly. There was nothing else to do, anyway… there was little hope to cling to anymore. What on earth was he supposed to do with his time anymore? How would he make himself useful? Thoughts came to mind, but he lacked the motivation and strength to act on them. All he wanted right now was to close his eyes and pretend his reality was quite different… pretend he wasn't truly faced with a future spent glancing at the past, clinging to every single memory that lingered in his heart, berating himself for anything he might have forgotten, too…
"Now, then… I probably ought to get going, I might arrive to find Zuko's lost control of the igloo and Mari's commandeered lunch somehow," Suki said, with a light smile. "Drop by whenever you want to, okay? I'll make sure that Zuko's on his best behavior if you do…"
"I really had thought he'd had enough time to process our relationship since Whaletail Island," Sokka said, with a soft huff.
"Well, according to the things he often says, it'd be the same as telling you that your sister's involved with someone and that you should probably be more understanding of how he feels…" Suki said, rolling her eyes, though with a fond smile. Sokka frowned before glancing at Suki.
"Is she?" he asked. "Katara, I mean. Involved with someone…?"
"Eh… maybe, but shh," Suki said, smiling teasingly as she brought a finger to her lips. "They've been pretty secretive about the whole thing, so I guess they're not ready to tell anyone. Either way, I guess once they do, you'll understand Zuko's awkwardness about the whole thing…"
"Yeah, well… I suppose it's not all that easy to accept your sibling ever got laid, eh?" Sokka said, raising his eyebrows. "Though… she never minded much, when it came to you and him. She told Zuko she looked forward to meeting Mari, back in Whaletail Island… told me to mess with him for the both of us, once I was here with you all. Said I ought to call him Zuzu…"
"Now, Sokka, that's… no, wait, maybe you should," Suki said, tapping her chin: despite himself, Sokka smiled a little. "That's absolutely going to snap him back to his senses. I can't believe that's a good idea, but it really is…"
Despite himself, Sokka hung his head and chuckled softly. Suki smiled as she readied herself to rise to her feet, just when the igloo's front door swung open.
"Ah, Kanna, I was just… leaving," Suki said, but the inflection of her voice caused Sokka to raise his head again, his smile fading quickly.
"Oh, that's a shame, Suki, dear," Kanna smiled, stepping down the igloo's entrance… aided by Katara.
Sokka's chest tightened at the sight of his sister. The comforting conversations and encouragement he'd received from both Suki and Kanna suddenly froze over, vanishing altogether, as Katara's fully body came into view… including, of course, the stern frown upon her face.
"You'll have to visit again soon," Kanna said, smiling as she finally reached the last step. She patted Katara's hand gently. "Thank you, dear."
Katara nodded, letting go of Kanna. She stood tensely at the foot of the short steps, only changing her demeanor when Suki hugged her grandmother.
"Take care of yourself, Kanna," Suki smiled, pulling away from the elderly woman with a kindly smile before dressing in her parka once again.
She glanced at Sokka next, apprehensive and concerned. His eyes as good as seemed to scream for help… but she wasn't sure she could offer him any right now. A sad smile was all she could muster.
"Just… be patient, okay?" she told him. "I'll see you soon, I hope. Take care of yourself, Sokka."
"I'll do my best. See you, Suki," he said, with a half-hearted smile of his own.
Suki breathed deeply as she stepped up to Katara, offering her the warmest grin she could show her. To her relief, Katara reciprocated it slightly, but her dark eyes made it clear she felt no relief or joy in being in the igloo again right now… in being in the same room as her brother.
"See you too, Katara," Suki said, patting her shoulder. Katara only nodded in acknowledgement as her friend ducked out of the igloo without further ado.
Being left alone with Kanna and Katara should have felt familiar – for years, only the three of them had lived in the large igloo, struggling to keep the village safe and sound while all the men were out in the war. Instead, though, Sokka was daunted by their company now: his chest tightened upon glimpsing his sister, knowing her coldness was nothing less than what he deserved… knowing, too, that nothing would change the reality he had conveyed to Katara on the previous night.
"Need help with lunch right now, Gran-Gran?" Katara asked, her voice forceful and sharp.
"Oh, no, I'll be fine, dear," Kanna said, smiling as she stepped closer to their food cabinets, searching through their reserves. "There's enough leftovers for now. We can eat those, right? You won't mind, will you, Sokka?"
Katara glanced at him then, almost challenging him wordlessly to say he would. Sokka swallowed hard before shaking his head, offering Kanna a weak smile.
"It's fine, Gran-Gran. I'm… not that hungry, so it's better if you don't cook a lot anyhow," he said. Kanna huffed, smiling at him over her shoulder.
"You'll regain that appetite of yours soon, dear, that's for sure!" she said. "We'll see to it, right, Katara?"
Her eyes hadn't left Sokka, who glanced at her again: the steel in her eyes chilled Sokka to the bone. No matter how many times she had lost her temper with him, it had always been emotional, volatile anger… not this distant coldness, as though they were strangers, as though she barely could recognize her brother in the man who sat by the fire.
"Sure," she answered Kanna, simply.
Sokka swallowed hard: he wanted to say something, but he couldn't make up his mind to do so. Anything he dared speak aloud would only anger Katara further… there was no way he could win in this particular conflict. Until she experienced a similar loss, a similar journey to his own, Katara would likely never truly understand him… and for her sake, Sokka found himself wishing she never would. Whatever his sister thought of him now, she didn't deserve to experience the perpetual pain and loneliness that plagued him right now.
She didn't speak, either: she lowered her gaze before shaking her head and stepping back to the igloo's door. Within moments, she had stormed outside again, leaving Sokka to breathe heavily, the lurching knots in his stomach worsening by the minute.
"Well, I suppose at least there was no screaming," Kanna pointed out, startling Sokka.
"Not yet, I'd say," Sokka mused, glancing at his grandmother: despite her previous words, she was tucking out fresh ingredients from the baskets and containers they kept in one corner of the largest room in the igloo. "Gran-Gran, didn't you say you weren't going to cook much today?"
"Oh, but I have to clean up our food stores, dear. There's been a nasty stench for the past weeks and I can't seem to figure out what it is," Kanna said, smiling at him. "Don't worry, don't… oh, Sokka!"
He had risen to his feet, without waiting for her to request his help. He sank to his knees beside his grandmother and smiled too.
"I'll do the heavy lifting. Just tell me what to do," he said, gently.
"Ah, you weren't that diligent when you were a scrappy teenager, my boy…" Kanna laughed, and Sokka smiled kindly. "I hope that doesn't mean you've decided I'm too old to work by now!"
"Maybe it means I've decided… it's a good thing to share workloads?" Sokka said, shrugging. "Which also means that, before you know it, I'll be offering to help make food too, so…"
"Oh, no! Certainly not!"
"Believe it or not, Gran-Gran, I've cooked food for myself and not wound up with food poisoning…" Sokka chuckled softly, and Kanna scoffed.
"You? That can't be true. I'm sorry to doubt you, dear, but you still remember where those stains came from, don't you, Sokka?" Kanna asked, pointing at a familiar set of furs on the walls and ceiling.
Despite himself, Sokka laughed softly, dropping his head on his grandmother's shoulder. Kanna smiled kindly at him, wrapping an arm around his waist, holding her kind and diligent grandson close. Much as Katara could feel many changes in her brother, Kanna felt them too… but as she gave Sokka orders he followed perfectly, she wondered just how bad that could be. It would take time for Katara to get used to her brother, so much more serious and mature these days than he ever had been, but Kanna wanted to trust and believe that he would learn to move forward… that he already was learning, too. The darkness that surrounded him, that overtook him with every moment spent away from the one he loved, might accompany him forever… but he was a fighter. He was stronger than he knew himself to be. Little by little, day by day, Sokka would recover from the many wounds Katara's bending could not heal… and Kanna could only hope his sister would already understand the heavy burdens that plagued her brother once Sokka found his will to live once more.
More noise. Rattling metal as footsteps echoed louder than usual: the machinery whirred in a new manner, and even the swaying of the vehicle seemed to change in some ways.
Even now, she didn't dare stand up and glance out the window. Even now, the food resting at the threshold of her cabin made her queasier than she already had been – she had two bites of an insipid bread bun on the day before, as part of a deal with Xin Long, who finally had taken a break from his sustained flight once she agreed to eat something, and it hadn't taken her ten minutes to hurl the food back out. But changes in the airship could not mean anything good unless there was some sort of emergency. Maybe they would start falling soon, maybe the aircraft would topple to the ground, killing all the passengers in a single…
Again, a fierce roar in her own head caused Azula to snap her tongue and shrink on the mattress. She couldn't remember ever fantasizing with death the way she had in recent times. When she finally agreed to eat, she had done so while wondering if Zhao might have ordered his men to have her poisoned, somehow… ridiculous, she knew, and yet she found herself wishing for it all the same. If there were any other escape, other ways to avoid the dreadful future she had chosen for herself, she would have likely wanted to choose that… and yet every time she was tempted to seek it, she remembered the South Pole and her Barge. She remembered her guards, the Water Tribe… she remembered Sokka. That sufficed to renew her certainty that this was the path she needed to take, even if her whole body appeared to rebel so ferociously against it.
The dread worsened when a set of footsteps approached her small cabin: food had been brought less than two hours ago. Nobody checked on her all that frequently, not beyond bringing her mediocre meals. Any visitors now, paired with the changes in the airship's flight, could only be an indicator for a most unwanted development…
"We are ten minutes away from the Capital, Princess. Please, prepare yourself."
Zhao's voice nearly compelled her to retch again. No, no, no. Not yet. Had the multiple days of travel gone by already? She might be ready if she had more time, but not yet, not now, why the blazes were these airships so fast…?
Xin Long struggled to keep up, his reptilian body strained by the distance he'd covered in so little time. His exhaustion only worsened Azula's dread: would he arrive on time? She wasn't sure she'd feel safe in the Capital without him, but at the same time she didn't want him to push himself by rushing too quickly and overexerting himself to reach her. Azula breathed deeply, running her fingers through her hair before yanking it gently. She'd have to clean up… she'd have to fix her hair, to a fault. She had no idea how she'd pull that off, frankly, with a weakened shoulder and no motivation to look after herself whatsoever… but she had to try. Presenting herself as a miserable wreck before her father might be inevitable, but if she didn't attempt to clean up in the least, he might take it as an invitation to offend and punish her at will for her lack of decorum, as well as everything else.
She climbed off the bed with trembling legs, walking uncomfortably towards the water basin that had been replaced earlier that morning. She splashed her face with the clean water, dabbing at her eyes harder than necessary, hoping the trails of tears would be erased this way. She breathed in and out repeatedly, glancing at her hazy reflection on the water: she had no makeup, she hadn't kept any on herself anymore, it felt like nothing but a careless frivolity in the face of the countless catastrophes she had faced. Thus, she didn't even have her hand mirror… perhaps attempting to clean up would prove a colossal failure after all. Unless she were granted an opportunity to stop at her quarters before seeing him… oh, but of course that wouldn't happen. She wasn't coming back as some sort of mischievous teenager who had run away from home: she was returning as a criminal, a traitor in her father's eyes, and if he didn't have her tossed in a prison cell immediately, he'd certainly claim to be treating her with far more leniency than she deserved.
All she could do was comb her hair with her fingers, attempting and failing to compose her half-knot – she had never been much good at it, and so much as trying to fix her hair inevitably brought thoughts of the last time it had been brushed properly, and who had been responsible for it…
She grinded her teeth together painfully: not now, not when she'd face the Fire Lord in a matter of moments. She could break later. She could cry later, if she still had tears left. For now, she needed to feign strength and stability even if it killed her inside.
Forcing herself to fasten her awkward half-knot, Azula turned to face the door, waiting for destiny to catch up with her. She was scared, but she didn't intend to let it show. She had already failed to fight back against her father properly before… their last direct encounter had led to that final explosive battle in the Grand Royal Dome. Today, she knew, had to turn out better than that… if it didn't, her intent to protect everyone she'd left behind would go to waste. She had to resist while making it clear she would only accept punishments that targeted her, personally.
Again, the rhythmic whirring of the engines changed. Azula closed her eyes and breathed slowly, attempting to steel herself. She took to counting each breath she took, letting her mind wander into a simple task that served no purpose in order to retain a semblance of serenity…
She had counted to fifty-seven when her cabin's door swung open.
A group of six soldiers flanked Admiral Zhao: whether he pitied, feared or despised her, Azula couldn't tell through the undecipherable gaze he leveled at her. Perhaps it was all three at once.
"Are you ready?" he asked. Azula offered him a half-hearted shrug.
"I don't exactly have much to get ready with in here, do I?" she said, simply, with the raspy voice she had scarcely used over the last three days. Zhao flinched upon hearing it.
"You ought to have said something back in your Barge…" he started, but he shook his head halfway through that thought and eyed Azula sternly anew. "Far too late now, of course. Come. You'll have to climb down to the Palace's front yard, the airship can't land in such a difficult terrain."
Azula frowned: there was certainly enough room in the empty Palace grounds for a single airship to land properly. While the one that assisted them during Rhone's attack hadn't landed when they were organizing their forces, it was merely because the Palace had been bustling with activity at the time. Would there be that much activity today as well? Or was this, as she suspected, yet another attempt to punish her when her shoulder wasn't fully healed just yet?
Whatever it was, she stepped forward with a heavy scowl, walking past Zhao without another word. If he intended to humiliate her by making her climb down the hard way, he would be out of luck. That she hadn't eaten much lately might make it more difficult to climb down the ladder, but she would do her best not to falter. She was always above expectations… her father, and his favorite goons, wouldn't trample over her this time, either.
She walked across the metal corridors, climbing down the stairs – clinging to the railing for good measure, her body certainly was in terrible shape right now and she really might topple down the stairs – until she reached the main deck: the soldiers had already prepared another ladder right outside one of the side doors of the deck, on the small landings that led into the airship's catwalks. The two soldiers positioned by the doors watched her as though to ensure that she wouldn't take a single step out of line, and she didn't: she walked towards them purposefully, with no intentions of acknowledging them with so much as a glance once she reached the landing.
Wind buffeted Azula as soon as she stepped outside. She felt vulnerable immediately, and she called instinctively for her dragon – he wasn't far, he could already see the bay and the entrance to the city, he had told her he could do this! –, but she clenched her fists and forced herself to move forward with her own strength, without burdening her struggling dragon any further.
She stepped closer to the ladder; the soldiers offered to help wordlessly only for Azula to refuse them by ignoring their extended hands. She leaned down with difficulty, hooking one foot on the first step of the ladder, then the next, while holding most her weight with her arms on the airship's platform.
She started climbing down the ladder at a paused rhythm: instead of ever exerting too much strength on her left shoulder, she would climb down the steps and always ensure to clasp the next one with her right hand first, her left second. Even when instinct nearly overcame her, she did her best not to mix up the order of her movements as she moved down from step to step: left leg, right leg, left hand, right hand. Simple, just as counting had been, earlier… only, this time her body was strained further and her urges to vomit seemed to surge again at the worst possible timing. Curses, she couldn't be so weak, not here, not now. She had to keep going. She had no choice but to keep going…
With her eyes closed and her rhythm established, Azula continued downwards without even glancing at the ground to confirm how far or close it might be. She simply had to keep going until her feet touched it: she could falter and hurl all she liked by then, perhaps at Zhao's feet, once he climbed down after her… of course he could have been a worse host on this airship, but forcing her to climb down this way was a deliberate act of cruelty he had chosen to inflict upon her, whether by Ozai's designs or his own.
Her shoulder ached, and her head seemed to take turns between bursting with pain or lightening in a terrifying way. Her fingers weakened as the rudimentary ropes and wood that comprised the ladder dug into her skin. She had to keep going, regardless. There was no alternative, none whatsoever…
Her ears perked at new sounds: breathing, the clinking of armor plates, the rustling of shoes against the floor.
She opened her eyes impulsively, immediately identifying the tall walls that surrounded her family home. Relief and rejection surged in her heart for it: a quick glance downwards revealed she was but four steps away from solid ground… and it also revealed she was surrounded by soldiers, both non-benders brandishing spears threateningly in her direction, and firebenders standing in menacing katas: all stood ready to strike her down if her behavior alarmed them in any way. It certainly seemed she would be lucky not to be thrown in the Prison Tower, or the Boiling Rock, within the next few hours.
Their threats were certainly insulting for whatever pride she still had left, but Azula continued onwards, no matter how unwillingly, until she finally reached land. Still refusing to hold any of her weight on her left arm, she moved carefully until both her feet were planted on the ground.
"Step back."
The unwanted and familiar voice of General Shaofeng sent cold daggers rushing through Azula's body. A prickle of irritation, of impulsiveness, took root inside her as her whole system demanded not to obey any of his orders… but she knew why he had given this one: Zhao was climbing down by now, far faster than Azula had, and he would collide with her unless she moved away from the swaying ladder.
So she did as commanded, breathing heavily: the outside world, she realized, was far too bright for her tastes right now. She had seen next to no sunlight throughout her voyage south, as the sun eventually had stopped appearing in the horizon, and she hadn't been able to look through the airship's red window through the three days of their rapid journey to the Fire Nation – not that she had wanted to try doing so, to begin with. Even if the skies were overcast right now, the brightness of the sun still leaked through white and gray clouds, and she wanted to shield her eyes from the glare of it all. To hide away under covers until all dangers vanished, even if she knew they never would…
Zhao's heavy boots forced her back to reality after she was withdrawn for moments. The Admiral huffed as he turned towards the soldiers, nodding at Shaofeng in acknowledgement.
"Is he ready to see her yet?" Zhao asked, point-blank, without so much as a greeting. No doubt, just as the General would like it. Azula's stomach, twisting and turning, would have much preferred it if he had stalled with pleasantries instead.
"The Fire Lord waits in the Throne Room," Shaofeng confirmed, with a firm nod. "You're expected there as well."
"Naturally," Zhao said, breathing deeply. "Very well, then. Onwards, Princess."
Azula gritted her teeth, wanting to refuse, knowing she couldn't do so. She turned around, finally facing the many soldiers standing guard: in other circumstances, she would have dismissed their frantic behavior, the trembling of many of their hands, she might even have insulted the General and the people he commanded, just for the sake of it… but she lacked the drive to do so. Instead, she glanced at the man and arched her eyebrows, silently asking whether he intended to lead the way or not.
"Admiral Zhao, if you would," Shaofeng said, glaring at Azula as he gestured at Zhao to lead instead. Azula refrained from scoffing: it seemed the General had chosen to never again turn his back on her or leave himself vulnerable around her ever since she had flung him out of the sponsors' balcony by deflecting his brutish, mindless strength.
Zhao didn't hesitate, nor did he show any displeasure over the General's request: he stepped forward firmly and Azula followed, as did many soldiers, weapons and hands at the ready to strike at her if she acted out in any way… unaware, of course, that the illness that seemed to have overtaken Azula, whether of the mind or the body, rendered her as good as useless at any physical pursuits. Had she intended to escape right now, she would have never pulled it off… not even on the back of her dragon.
A roar echoed in the distance, but it was too far away: he wasn't here yet. Azula's pace slowed as she glanced over her shoulder: the men and soldiers sensed the sound too, but the lesser ranked only seemed to focus on urging her onwards. She shivered, stopping to a halt as she longed to see him, any sign of Xin Long…
"Move," Shaofeng growled. Azula gritted her teeth as she met his gaze.
"My dragon…"
"Will be tended to," Shaofeng said. "There is food and water prepared for him in his refuge. Keep moving."
Azula shuddered: something about those words sounded utterly ominous. Xin Long certainly needed to replenish his energy after that long journey, didn't he? Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea…
And yet she urged her dragon to change course right now. To fly to a river, to find something to hunt… Xin Long, shameful, replied he wasn't strong enough to hunt right now, or to seek even the nearest river and munch down whatever fish he could find. Besides… she needed him. He couldn't leave her alone now, he refused to do so when all else had fallen apart. She couldn't face this without him, and she wouldn't have to.
Azula's chest tightened at his wholehearted loyalty. But whatever he did next, he had to be careful. Shaofeng was the least trustworthy man in this Palace, and she wanted to believe her father wasn't stupid enough to have the last dragon killed – for he had never learned of the existence of the others, so he'd still believe he was the last –, but she could put anything past him anymore. The less time Xin Long spent within the Palace, the better: he should snatch the food and water, gobble them down and go… that is, as long as he didn't sense any poison in them. Was it possible to poison a dragon? Their bodies were quite different from human ones, surely the dosage would have to be immense for it to work… would her father do something like that, though?
She couldn't simply assume she was being paranoid. She couldn't just shrug off reality and pretend everything was fine when it wasn't. Whatever her father had planned for her return was waiting around a corner, she just didn't know which one… she'd be a fool not to expect a backhanded blow to land on her at any second.
"Move, I said. Or even that much generosity will be withdrawn from your precious pet," Shaofeng growled. Azula snarled, fists tightened…
But she obeyed. What choice did she have but to obey? She would have to face her father once more… she hoped to shield Xin Long, everyone, by keeping her father's focus on her. She'd just have to hope that whatever schemes he'd plotted in her absence wouldn't target her dragon… at least, not right away and hopefully not lethally. Weakened and disheartened as she was, she restarted her march, following Zhao into the dark, unsettling hallways of the place she had called her home for most her life.
The Palace remained familiar, but an eerie, ghostly sensation clung to every tall column, to every menacing ornament Azula had never thought twice of. After taking three turns, she finally realized what was so unnerving about the place right now: while some servants had crossed their path so far, Azula remembered none of their faces. She frowned upon that realization: she paid more attention to the occasional Palace staff members afterwards, whether those walking down corridors or those within rooms she could glance into: not only was the massive building emptier than usual, she genuinely recognized none of its workers anymore.
The implications nearly caused her to stop walking, halfway to the Throne Room: had her father taken out his wrath on everyone who had ever served her? Even those who had served him, just as well? The thought nearly caused her to hurl again. He couldn't have… he wouldn't have. Those servants had nothing to do with this… even if they had noticed she was hiding a secret, it wasn't their fault, it wasn't their choice, it was hers. He couldn't have chosen to make them pay for her actions with their lives… he couldn't have. She had known her attempts to salvage as many lives as possible with her actions were far from infallible… but had she underestimated her father that much? Was he capable of such an unjust punishment? Maybe they were still alive… maybe they had all taken the day off today, for no apparent reason. Curses, she wanted to believe anything but what she was seeing, or rather, what she wasn't seeing… but the deep, dark drumming of her sinking heart spelled out what her mind refused to acknowledge: Ozai was capable of anything to punish her. While she had saved valuable lives with her actions, her father would ensure that she couldn't save everyone, no matter how hard she might try.
She breathed in and out at a rhythm, utterly sickened. The nauseous sensations worsened with each step she took, her heart clenched as they entered the Royal Gallery: the eyes of Fire Lords of old judged her mercilessly, deeming her unworthy of standing among them, regardless of how many years she had spent proving otherwise. Despite herself, she lowered her head, knowing she would find no mercy… knowing she would go unforgiven by her father, by her people, by her ancestors, by everyone who ever held any expectations she had finally been unable to satisfy.
The Throne Room's corridor stood at the center of that long gallery, under the cruel watch of Fire Lord Ozai's own portrait. A cold shiver rushed through Azula's body upon reaching it, and she turned quickly towards the dark curtain that led to the Throne Room. She would face a much worse version of her father than the one that had been immortalized on that wall… and she'd do best to get it over with before he could destroy more lives than he already had.
Shaofeng and Zhao continued to walk with her towards the curtains: two Imperial Guards pulled them open, allowing the glare of the harshly burning flames to shine upon the new arrivals. Her footsteps slowed, but the General of the Guards stepped behind her, a hand on her back, threatening to push her unceremoniously if she didn't do what was expected of her: Azula stepped forward of her own volition then, all be it to ensure that accursed man would not touch her ever again.
Two more Imperial Guards stood inside the Throne Room: five men, then, all ready to take her down. Under any other circumstances, she might have thought herself superior to them, combat-wise… curse Rhone for attacking when he had. If only he had waited… if only he had never found the Spear at all, Azula might have been able to fight back from the start. She couldn't ignore her own shortcomings, her body's failings, caused both by her own carelessness and by wounds that had yet to fully heal…
But could she have fought back against the furious man who sat behind the flames? Azula's eyes flickered warily towards him, glimpsing his dark silhouette underneath his throne. The set of his shoulders, the way his body shifted as she stepped closer… it almost felt as though she were walking into a beast's lair with no means to protect herself from its violence. How far would he intend to go? What would he do to her? She should have prepared herself better for this confrontation… she damn near trembled as she reached the right spot at which she was supposed to stop, right where the world map was usually rolled during the war meetings her father surely regretted ever inviting her to. All her privileges, she knew, were forfeit: she was about to find out to what greater extremes he'd reach next to punish her alleged transgressions.
Shaofeng grunted menacingly: Azula gritted her teeth before kneeling, without performing the respectful reverence Ozai might have expected. Zhao and Shaofeng both pressed their fists to their palms, curtsying properly, but Azula merely lingered where she was, her legs sore after the complicated climb down the airship earlier. She closed her eyes, allowing herself one last moment of peace, one last moment of tranquility, even if it was hardly true peace, at this point in time…
"Even common courtesy eludes you now, does it?" the spiteful words seemed to slap her across the face. Azula gritted her teeth, raising her head and gaze towards the curtain of fire… towards the furious glare that waited behind it. "Unsurprising, in the end, of someone who'd soil herself with a savage of her own volition, as you proudly said you had. If anything, I'm surprised you would have enough sense to return here rather than wasting away your life by becoming a savage, much like him…"
Azula closed her eyes again: a man who had offered her no end of kindness, taught her to see the world through new eyes, to settle differences and problems through communication, through understanding one another, deemed a savage by the one who had attempted to murder him in the most irrational, bestial manner he could conjure. How odd to sit across her father and find herself utterly appalled by his way of seeing the world, when she had been no different, no better than him, for most her life… yet she could barely remember those days anymore. No matter if Ozai had raised her, no matter if he had no small part in helping her become a powerful bender, suddenly it seemed as though her life had only begun in earnest when she had found Sokka.
"I'd pretend I'm touched by your concern…" Azula said, glancing at the fire again. "But we both know who's the one who proved himself an actual savage in recent times, don't we?"
That the Fire Lord would shout and rise to his feet over a single intervention by the Princess – the first words she had addressed to her father in two weeks – certainly explained why the Fire Lord had needed not only the support of Zhao, but also of the General of the Guards and two of his men against a near-defenseless woman. She scowled under heavy brows, daring her father to respond to her barb, honest as her words had been: he was afraid of her. He knew she hadn't returned of her own volition for no reason. Surely he expected much worse from her than she could hope to deliver…
"Be silent!" Ozai hissed: if that was his intended defense, it certainly didn't help his case much, did it? "Your accursed insolence is the reason why you've landed yourself in utter disgrace, and you intend to continue to exhibit it in this way?! Truly, Azula, have you lost every shred of dignity and sense you still had left?! Have you learned nothing, after all this?!"
"I've learned more than I could ever say…" Azula answered, bitterly. "Telling you the truth, however, was your very first demand when this began, wasn't it? Would you rather I lied now, and played along as the meek and spineless Princess you made sure I'd never grow up to be? I'm afraid some habits are harder to break than you might expect…"
"You will silence yourself this instant, curse you, you fool!" Ozai exclaimed, causing the fire to flicker on par with his fury. "Are you truly so unaffected by the wreckage you've caused?! By the lives that have been lost in your recklessness?! By every consequence your misguided choices have inflicted upon your nation?!"
"So, you're… you're blaming the loss of lives on me?" Azula said, a dry, disbelieving smile twitching over her face. "Whatever the hell you've done to the servants, to every staff member that ever worked here, was your damn choice. Had you cared for their lives in the least, you wouldn't have…"
"Oh, their lives are of no concern to me: they aided you in your deceit!" Ozai hissed, and Azula scowled, glancing at him in disbelief. "Every last one of them earned their fate just as much as you've earned yours…"
"Aided me?" Azula repeated, her chest tightening. "No one…! Not a single one of them knew a damn thing! They were no allies of mine, not when it came to protecting my secrets or anything else…!"
"And you expect me to believe that?" Ozai asked, eyes wide. "If you and that scum behaved with such reckless abandon that even my wretched brother caught you, how could you possibly hide your betrayals from the people who took care of you, every single day?! What incompetent buffoons they must have been, then, if they couldn't see the signs when you were sinning underneath their very noses…!"
Azula clenched her fists, her outrage surging upon each word her father dared speak. It was true that she and Sokka had often taunted fate, playing their dangerous games when they shouldn't have, even daring to act casually, without covering up for appearances' sake, more often than they ever should have. Still, she knew her father: even if she and Sokka had never been careless, he would have accused her of it without basis and taken out his rage on those servants to sate his thirst for destruction, whether his arguments to do so made sense or not…
"But I see that they're the ones who concern you, is that right?" Ozai snapped. "Not the man you killed in the Arena, of course not… not the ones you could have killed, myself included, if we hadn't reacted to the danger at the right moment! Oh, but I'm certain you and your personal whore would have rejoiced had I perished as well…! Perhaps you were even counting on it, planning ahead for it all along! What disappointment you must feel to find that I yet live, despite your treacherous designs…!"
"I never wanted you dead, I never wanted anyone dead…!" Azula hissed, but Ozai, as expected, would be beyond reason, utterly unwilling to listen to any of her words.
"And then you simply escaped, running away with your tail between your legs, only to turn yourself in later… by yourself," Ozai said, glowering. "All the traitors who aided you… every last one of them abandoned you willingly, is it? They left you for dead in the middle of the ocean, is what you'd have me believe? No doubt their idea of loyalty was but a fickle, pathetic concept if that was how they repaid you… or, perchance, you thought they would have a better chance at survival by sacrificing yourself to me, is it? Trading your freedom for an attempt to salvage your craven soldiers and that maggot of a slave… do you truly expect it to be impossible for me to capture and slay every last one of them, just because you're back?"
"Yes. I do," Azula answered, curtly and bluntly. Ozai's irritation surged along with the strengthening of the flames. "You truly intend to waste your resources seeking out people to torment and torture for their alleged misdeeds when I'm right here, taking responsibility for everything myself? If you'll only feel better after setting me on fire, so be it: burn me to the bone if you must, if that's what will satisfy your need for destruction. I'll take it. Just…"
"Ah, just leave them alone, you'll ask?" Ozai said, almost mockingly: he seemed tempted to spit into the fire, but he swallowed instead. "Then it is true. You did send them away so you could plead with me in such a way… amusing."
"Father, please…"
"You have no right to address me as such!" Ozai exclaimed, and Azula flinched. "You… you are my daughter still, only because there is no one left to replace you. But a traitor like you has no right to call me her father. You will address me as proper for one of your station, curse you…"
"Oh? And what station is that, then, if you no longer wish I were your daughter?" Azula asked, hating that her voice would tremble as she said those words: it sounded so stupid, curses, so melodramatic and foolish, but her damn heart hurt for his sudden rejection of their very bond all the same.
"You… remain Crown Princess of this nation. Albeit not for long," Ozai said, raising his hand to point at her menacingly: Azula's eyes widened.
"Not for…?" she frowned: would he truly do it? Would he find a new wife, just as she had anticipated he might…?
"Your future husband will certainly make a much better Crown Prince than you ever did," Ozai said, his voice suddenly dry and sharp, as though uttering those words had appeased his ever-flowing rage at last.
No doubt, he would be appeased. No doubt, he would be satisfied now… for finally, his words seemed to break Azula out of her rebellious resentment, sending her spiraling directly into fearful, yet furious denial.
"No! I've already said…! No!" Azula shouted, struggling to rise to her feet: the weakness of her knees caused her to falter, dropping in place again as she trembled violently. "I won't take any damn husband you force on me! I've already told you so, I said I'd sooner die…!"
"Is this supposed to be your idea of loyalty towards that mongrel?" Ozai said, with a mocking smile: he relished in her panic, in her fury… as though he knew his victory was guaranteed, regardless of Azula's intentions to keep fighting back. "To think that you truly cannot recognize just how pathetic your attachment is… what a number he did on your once-gifted mind, Azula. That you would forsake everything just to fool yourself into believing that scum of a man could ever love you… I cannot even begin to fathom how you allowed yourself to be swayed by such ridiculous, base needs, but it's all the sweeter to force you to come to terms with reality this way because of it. Wake up, you fool! Snap out of your adolescent stupidity already! You are not some peasant child who can choose to marry over whatever misplaced affection she develops for another fool like herself! You are born to a royal lineage, and you will act like it! Marrying whoever I choose for you is your duty, as it has been the duty of countless princesses across our dynasty, and you will perform it as I command it… or you will regret it, for however long you have left to live."
"I… I regret more than enough things, and I know I will until I die," Azula hissed. "What's one more?"
"Ah… truly? Is that how it shall be?" Ozai asked: was that amusement, or simple indignation? Yet the words, the apparent concession to Azula's response, strongly suggested that Azula was, once again, underestimating him. "My, my. I suppose you're done pretending to suffer over those who pay for the consequences of your crimes, then?"
"What are you…?" Azula asked, trembling suddenly. "What are you talking about? Y-you… you didn't kill them yet. You… what have you done with the servants?"
"The servants? That's truly who you thought I meant right now?" Ozai asked, derisively. "Oh… but I suppose it's only a matter of time, isn't it, General Shaofeng?"
Azula's confusion increased as she shot a quick glance at the stoic, cold-blooded man standing by her left. He only nodded, curtly, as though reassuring the Fire Lord that all would proceed according to plan.
She thought back on how the damn General had acted ever since she had climbed down the airship, the blunt declarations he'd made regarding Azula's sole remaining companion…
A sudden weight seemed to slam her down, flat against the ground, crashing painfully over her.
She couldn't move. Chains, so many chains, tightened around her: she tried to scream, and a roar came out instead. Blue flames out of her mouth… but they only scorched the walls that didn't catch fire. She writhed, fought back, struggled against the restraints… and a gleam of sunlight, drifting from an open wall several levels higher, shone upon a gigantic, silver blade.
A gigantic, silver blade positioned several feet above her head, ready to slice cleanly through her neck if she made a single wrong move.
"No… NO!"
Her voice returned to her, but the roars accompanied it all the same, desperate, terrified, begging to be helped away from the sudden threat of a deadly, sharp weapon… sharp enough to dig into a scaly neck and cut it cleanly if it were released from the ropes that suspended it high above.
"STOP! STOP THIS!"
She could hear him in her mind, begging for her help… begging her to do something to save him. Azula trembled violently, shuddering on the floor: she had lost control of her own senses, of her whole body, as good as merging with her dragon's mind fully when panic had seized him completely.
Of course it had been a trap.
It wasn't the servants… it wasn't the Palace staff. The only hostage Ozai needed, now that he couldn't use Sokka, was none other than Azula's dragon.
"LET HIM GO!" Azula exclaimed, pushing her torso upright clumsily, no matter if her elbows trembled when she did as much: neither Zhao nor Shaofeng had attempted to help her when she had collapsed. Her tearful eyes found her father's merciless glare… to find he did seem satisfied now. He was winning. He knew he was winning…
"You are in no position to make demands anymore, Azula," Ozai said, curtly. Her stomach sank, her chest heaving as more tears poured down her cheeks. "You haven't been in one for a long time, as it is."
"He's…! He's the last dragon, Father! You know you can't…!"
"I told you to not call me that anymore!" Ozai hissed, stomping hard on the floor. "And now you understand what I can do if you displease me, don't you?! You realize how far I'm willing to go to make sure you obey, again, and do as you're told, and uphold your damn role in this nation?! I will sacrifice the last dragon if that's what it takes to teach you the lesson you refuse to learn, you wretched, arrogant fool! You will address me as your Fire Lord, from this day onwards, or you will risk seeing your connection to that creature severed when that blade cuts it cleanly, along with his head!"
Azula lowered her head, holding herself in place with trembling hands as tears spilled uncontrollably on the marble floor. Again, she had underestimated him… by hell, she had underestimated him completely. She had lost herself in her argument with her father, forgetting entirely that her dragon was on his way to his refuge, and however careful as he had been, he hadn't been careful enough… curses, why else would they have offered to feed Xin Long? Why would Ozai ever give such an order when Xin Long had been an essential element of their escape? When he had been the very first factor Ozai had annulled back when he had sent his men to perform the purity examination on Azula…?
There was no common sense, no logic that would hold him back anymore. Bringing back the dragons was but a strategic matter for him… and he would sacrifice that venture in a heartbeat, all else be damned, if his accursed pride was slighted in any way. Xin Long didn't deserve this… nobody deserved any of what Ozai was inflicting upon them. But if he had to punish someone… if he had to punish someone at all…
"Don't do this…" Azula said, trembling violently as her shoulders shook. "Please, l-let him go… leave him free, I… I've already turned myself in! Take out your rage on me… whatever you need to do, just do it, but only to me… please. Please, F-… Fire Lord…."
"Oh, absolutely not," Ozai hissed, raising his eyebrows. "You expect me to give up my very best bargaining chip just because you ask nicely? And you're not even asking that nicely, to boot…"
"It's my crime! It's my sin, my mistake!" Azula shouted through the tears. "I'm the one who should…!"
"And that's exactly why you won't, you see: you'd learn NOTHING! Just as you've learned nothing so far!" Ozai declared, scowling heavily. "You, the girl who breaks every expectation, or used to, anyway… you would turn every punishment on its head, wouldn't you? But, ah… if a life you value so much as your dragon's is at risk, you won't dare, will you? A single step out of line, Azula… a single treacherous act, of any nature, and your dragon will pay for it directly. Resist now, if you dare… but if you continue to refuse your Fire Lord's orders, that blade will swing down, and another death will weigh on your conscience, not mine! You don't wish to push me this far, or do you?"
Azula sobbed, unable to answer him yet, even though the answer was clear… even though all future answers had been clear as soon as he had captured her dragon. Curse her carelessness… curse her for all her weaknesses. Why hadn't she been firmer and insisted on sending Xin Long away, regardless of her dragon's refusals? How had she ever thought Ozai would hold back against her dragon…? Why had she ever allowed herself to think Xin Long could be safe…?
He remained restless, terrified, so much that she couldn't quite look through Xin Long's mind to understand what had happened… yet she could infer it through the sensations he had experienced, sensations she had shared physically, even if no real chains weighed on her: manacles had clasped each of Xin Long's limbs upon entering the refuge, moments before a heavy net of chains had dropped atop him, pinning the dragon to the ground. He couldn't get up anymore: the chains were too heavy, the blade contraption that dangled above him a terrifying threat that saw him writhing still, whimpering and roaring interchangeably as he tried to break himself free… but there was nothing to be done about it now. Most gates of his refuge were closed, fully locked, save for the one shining upon the deadly blade and one on the ground level: soldiers filtered inside the refuge, tasked with locking the chains in place properly, even slinging new ones around the dragon to further limit his mobility…
"Stop it… stop it!" Azula cried, sobbing pitifully as the roars of the furious dragon echoed through the Palace grounds: Ozai heard them, even in the depths of his Throne Room. "It's enough…! It's enough, please…!"
"Begging suits you ill, Azula," Ozai hissed spitefully. "And yet I must admit… I enjoy watching you grovel."
If she had ever thought she could never hate her father, that very day seemed poised to prove her wrong. He didn't have enough by ordering his men to restrain and examine her against her will… he didn't have enough by beating, torturing and imprisoning the man she loved. He didn't have enough by sending that man to his death and making her watch, by demanding she took a husband she would not want, by causing her to flee from her own nation in order to save what few lives she still could protect… no, none of that had been enough to appease his thirst for revenge. The spirit that had been corrupted and merged with the Bloodlust Spear had been easier to quench than her own damn father was…
"But you may yet need some time to truly process what I've demanded from you, perhaps?" Ozai said, matter-of-factly. "This, I'd say, shall be your pinch of mercy, which you're begging for as desperately as you are: you have one day, Azula, to answer my demands. To decide whether your pride is worth more than the life of the last dragon… to decide if you will continue to resist and resent, to reject your Fire Lord's orders, while pretending to be immune to the consequences of your actions. No, I won't burn you to the bone… not while you still have a purpose to fulfill. Not while you, the so-called greatest firebender of her generation, still haven't conceived a worthy heir to succeed me in your stead…"
She felt the urge to say no. To reject this folly again… until she heard the dragon's whimpers and groans inside her mind anew. If she dared… if she dared refuse outright now, would he do it? Would that blade swing down upon her dragon's neck?
"You're free to go to him now, if you must…" Ozai said, mockingly. "The soldiers guarding his doors won't allow you inside the refuge, however. You will be restrained by force, if need be… and even if you miraculously overcome most of them, they're under orders to release that blade on the dragon if you take any reckless actions to set him free. Still… I'd say it should be good for you see with your own eyes what precarious situation your precious creature is in now."
Ozai breathed deeply: it seemed as though he had regained whatever passed for calm and serenity, for his standards. Breaking Azula had proven complicated, even dangerous… but this had been a rather simple, remarkably effective solution. All that was left was ensuring she would do as she had been told… he had a few more ideas on how to achieve that, naturally, and he would see to pushing her in the right direction soon enough.
"Once you do…" he continued. "You'll certainly understand this is no game you can outsmart me at. You cannot escape anymore, not when your favorite means for running away can no longer fly to the rescue whenever you may need him. And you'll also understand that you will obey me without question: you will do as I expect from you. You will marry Admiral Zhao… and you will provide the Royal Family with an heir worthier of the name than you ever will be."
Azula breathed hard and heavy, closing her eyes upon hearing who her father had in mind for her suitor, again… of course it was Zhao, even now. Curse him, curse them both for their choices, their actions, the countless vows they'd gladly break…
"If you haven't conveyed an answer within a day, I will take it as another sign of rebellion and treachery," Ozai determined. "If you and the Admiral have not been wed within two weeks, for whatever excuse you may present… I shall take it as a sign of treason as well, and it will warrant the severe punishment you so dread. Am I understood?"
Azula shivered, longing to shake her head… knowing she couldn't do so, however. She couldn't. Any mistakes… any missteps, and she would condemn her dragon. She would condemn her partner, her Xin Long…
Slowly, her head rose and fell, in the most difficult nod she had ever given in her life. Zhao, not far behind her, seemed startled by her compliance, and perhaps not in a good way.
"The same is true for you, Admiral," Ozai said, scowling at him. "You won't present any excuses either. Consider this a form of retribution… for the folly you inflicted upon me before. That vermin would already be dead if not for your flight of fancy… and your gladiator would still live, as well. Truthfully, that I ever allowed you to talk me into that scheme… I truly must have had a leave of my senses."
"My Lord…" Zhao started, gritting his teeth. "It needn't be me, is all I'll say. You can find a more suitable man for the Princess…"
"I don't care to find a suitable man for her," Ozai hissed. "She doesn't deserve that generosity. All that matters is ensuring my rule, and my legacy, are protected. Are you unreliable for those purposes now, after all these years of being my most trusted ally, Admiral Zhao? Or are you simply hesitating for her benefit, for reasons I cannot fathom?"
"No, my Lord. It's merely… that you have known, all along, that I'm disinclined to take a wife and always have been," Zhao said, closing his eyes. "But if you truly believe you can only entrust the Fire Nation's fate and future to me… I will do as you ask."
Was it truly a matter of trust? No, surely not: Ozai only wanted to punish them, Azula more than Zhao… and what better way to inflict that punishment than by disregarding the promises he'd made in the past? By setting aside what remnants of honor he might have still pretended to abide by? Instead of staying true to their deal from years ago, the deal from only a few weeks ago, he had discarded all of it altogether now… just as Sokka had warned her that he would. Ozai wouldn't keep his word… not unless it was convenient for him.
How many promises would he break until he was satisfied? How many bonds would he rend and shatter until his thirst for vengeance could be quenched? How many tears would Azula have to shed before it was over? How many times would she find herself wishing her heart would simply stop beating, just so she could find relief in nothingness rather than enduring this ever-excruciating, non-stop torment?
He wanted her to regret her choices… to internalize that every time she had turned away from him and his wretched teachings, she had made a mistake she would pay for direly. Yet her furious soul regretted only her shortsightedness… only her utterly ridiculous attachment to her father, which had blinded her to the very worst he could do, persuading her, even now, that he couldn't possibly go too far. That he wouldn't hurt her too much, that she was still too valuable…
She wasn't. Everything he did, he did so he could discard her when he'd obtained whatever he needed from her.
"See to it that it is so, Admiral," Ozai hissed: just his voice was enough for Azula's whole body to ring with rejection, with furious hatred she never thought she could experience towards the man who, long ago, had encompassed her whole world, representing everything she had ever wanted to be…
His footsteps echoed as he walked towards the backdoor: in a matter of instants, the Fire Lord stifled the flames and a shroud of darkness fell upon the remaining occupants of the Throne Room. Then, the footsteps of Zhao and the General returning to the curtain, without bothering to ascertain that she would follow. The two other Imperial Guards left with them, as well… all of them left her crumpled in place, tears streaming endlessly across her face when she had thought she had none left to cry anymore.
Xin Long. Her dragon, the one connection nobody could steal from her… and her father threatened to destroy it. He wanted her to hate him… he wanted her to despise him with every shred of her soul, and just so, he wanted her powerless to act upon it.
None of this should have ever happened… none of it. She should have convinced him to leave her, so her father couldn't hold Xin Long as leverage, no matter what… but he would have found something else, he always would. Who was to say he hadn't already found countless more things to torment her with? His greatest talent had always been his ability to figure out how to corner anyone who displeased him… a talent he had seldom turned on her in the past, and whenever he had, she had come out triumphant more often than not. She had been so certain she could win… so arrogant indeed to underestimate the heartlessness of a man whose truest passion was annihilating anything that dared stand in his way.
He had lied to her so many times… he had made so many promises he would break now, without hesitation. All sign of respect for her had been fake, false, conditioned exclusively by how she served his purposes, withdrawn immediately as soon as she failed him…
"You will make a great Fire Lord when your time comes."
Lies, nothing but conditioned lies to keep her under his control…
"I am most honored to call you my daughter."
He had never meant any of it. Not once. She was a tool, nothing but a tool…
"Well done, Azula."
He didn't care. He never had. Everything had been about him, about him, about nothing else…
"What sort of father could ever be disappointed in a daughter like you?"
A scream broke out of her body, singing her system, burning her very lungs: the Throne Room was alight anew when fire poured from her body, tears dripping down on the orange flames, fury and sorrow blended together in a spree of sobs she couldn't keep silent any longer.
She had failed. She couldn't protect anyone from her father, no matter how many sacrifices she was willing to make.
Everyone she loved, everyone she cared for, would be destroyed if she didn't abide by his demands. She couldn't even attempt to argue, to negotiate, to reach any manner of compromise… all of it was off the table.
The only way forward was submission.
Her sorrow went answered in kind, as a voice inside her mind cried out for her, calling her, begging for her help. Trapped. He was trapped, again, in darkness: the soldiers had closed the refuge's gates, all save for the one by the blade. He couldn't move. He couldn't tear down the walls. He was powerless… he needed her. He needed her.
Whatever strength she had left allowed her to rise to her feet, and then to take one step forward. Then another, and the one to follow was faster, faster, faster yet until she had broken into a sprint: her body resented her for it, she was in no condition to run anywhere, but she kept going, caring nothing if she tripped or stumbled as she rushed past the Throne Room's curtains.
If the merciless glares of her countless ancestors fell upon her again as she crossed their heinous gallery, Azula ignored them. If she crossed paths with any servants, whether familiar or not, she couldn't see any of them, not when her eyes were clouded by a thousand tears, not when her mind was locked away in that refuge with the dragon that seemed to cry in despair, begging for help, aching, weakened, terrified of the deadly blade that could cut through him at any moment. He struggled, attempting to jerk himself out of the firm chains and bindings… but nothing worked. He was stuck. He was trapped.
His days of freedom, of flying in a colorful, bright world, had come to an end.
A trail of tears followed the desperate Princess as her feet moved of their own accord to that refuge, rushing through that Palace she had long known and felt at home in, a Palace that now seemed hostile, cruel, unforgiving. She dashed as fast as her weakened legs could carry her until she finally reached the newest of the Palace's buildings… to find it surrounded by armed soldiers.
"Stand back!" exclaimed one, raising his spear towards her. "No one is permitted to approach the…!"
She ignored him. He could run her through, for all she cared. What good was her life at this point, anyway?
"I said stand…!" the soldier exclaimed, trembling as he reeled back his weapon instinctively.
His bluff of a menace was blown to smithereens when the heartbroken woman, in the worst shape she had ever been seen, rushed past him, crashing against his armored shoulder, against the haft of the weapon, before her hand reached the closest entrance to her dragon's refuge… to find a heavy set of locks, bound and wrapped with chains across the door.
Xin Long grew more desperate upon feeling her nearby: instinctively, he called for her, and Azula could only scream back across the walls that kept them apart, shattering into a tearful heap as she fell to her knees, her hands on the door she couldn't possibly take down, not in her weakened state, not before some of those soldiers decided to murder her dragon in cold blood, as they had been told to if she took her rebellions too far…
"Xin…!" she sobbed desperately, slamming a weak fist on the door. "Xin Long…!"
His response was a sorrowful groan: it was no longer a desperate cry, begging for help, or a roar of outrage, a threat to whoever had dared inflict this horrific act upon him. No… he couldn't fight anymore, knowing it was useless. He couldn't beg her to help, not when he knew those soldiers would hurt her further, hurt him further, if she did anything more than cry against his door.
They should have never come back. This had been a mistake. It had been a fool's errand, an attempt to salvage what could never be saved anyway. The Fire Lord would never hold back, not for Azula's benefit, not for anyone else's: his mad thirst for revenge and retribution would not end until he decided he'd had enough… and would he ever? A man who knew no boundaries couldn't possibly come to his senses and realize he had taken his atrocities too far, could he?
He had done all this because she had dared love someone. Because he had perceived it as a betrayal, no matter if he'd had nothing to do with it. All of it because she had rebelled, defending the life of a man who meant more to her than she could ever put into words. How could this be a worthy punishment for her actions? How could he ever perceive it that way? If loving him had been a crime at all, how could he inflict penance for it all across the nation, wherever his dark reach might extend to, when she was the one who had chosen to give herself to Sokka? It was her choice. It was hers. It was all her, it was all her…
Everything was her fault.
From the moment she had let herself dream of a different way to live… from the moment she had allowed herself to hope for what had never been in the cards for her, from the moment she had made reckless choices just to experience the love and joy she had never known, she had doomed everyone.
Those who had helped her, like her guards, would be pursued across the Earth Kingdom, no matter how far they might go, or how well they might hide. Those who had been in the dark about the truth, those who might have had suspicions they couldn't confirm, had been punished in ways she couldn't even fathom right now. As for those who had known about her relationship with Sokka… if her father intended to inflict pain at all costs, he would find every last one of them and punish her through them as well, she knew he would. Xin Long should have gone back to his new family, to the dragons far north… he shouldn't have returned to her at all in the Northern Air Temple, even, leaving her to fly away with Sokka on a hot-air balloon instead so he could be free and escape the reach of that monster of a man. Even if that had meant Rhone would have killed them all far more easily if her dragon hadn't been there to help defeat the Spear, Azula would have chosen to die that day if it meant she would not be here now, on her knees, beating herself up for the horrors she had brought upon everyone she had cared about, especially Xin…
And Sokka. She had sworn, promised him that she would be fine. She would fight, endure, withstand anything… she hadn't known it was a lie then, but she recognized it as such now, and she hated herself for lying to him at all. She hadn't known what her father would do… she hadn't understood how far he would go. She had sent him off to his people, hoping he could warn them, prepare with them in case Ozai attacked, but she had intended to stop him if he so much as tried, by any means necessary…
How could she do that now? How could she oppose him when her dragon would be the one to pay the price for her insolence? Her stomach lurched, her chest tightened, her sobs poured out and tears fell down her face. New droplets of water fell upon her too: her body slowly grew soaked by a sudden rain shower, the result of the conjunction of so many swirling dark clouds above their heads. She reacted to none of it: the water leaked through her clothes, pouring down her body, streaming through her dark hair, undone and chaotic. She suddenly wanted to bleed out with all of it, to flow into nothingness, to become part of nature, to lose herself entirely if that would make the pain go away… but nothing would amend the draining, massive hole where her heart had once resided.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't fight anymore. She had faltered and failed at the first hurdle… it was shameful. It was wrong, unbefitting of her… but perhaps that was exactly why her father would no longer acknowledge her. There was nothing she could do anymore… not when she was powerless. Not when everything she had ever cherished was out of reach, whether hopelessly lost, or soon to be, if she made a single mistake…
She couldn't do this.
She wasn't worth all this.
The best way to make it stop… the only way to make it end…
Another set of footsteps approached her, through the rain. She didn't acknowledge them when they stopped beside her, although something changed once they did: a rattling sound, rhythmic and dissonant, accompanied the sudden end of the sensation of droplets of water falling upon her body. Her scattered mind recognized the sound as that of an umbrella under the rain, even if it took her moment to place it…
She dared open her eyes again, for she had closed them tightly upon collapsing against that door. She could see several sets of feet around her: soldiers, uncomfortable over the rain, their bodies angled towards her… no. Towards whoever had brought that umbrella, rather…
Her misty eyes traveled down as she turned slowly… only to recognize the gold and maroon boots often worn by a Captain of the Imperial Guards.
She nearly jumped at that sight: impulsively, she thought of Fei Li, even of Rui Shi… impossible, though. They couldn't be here. She had seen to it… she had seen to that.
She raised her head slowly, her aching heart beating faster as she assessed the guard that stood behind her: it was certainly the uniform of an Imperial Captain, yet something in that stance was familiar, even though she couldn't place why right away, not through her tearful eyes or the haze of the pouring rain. She had hardly known the other captains that served under General Shaofeng, so why would this one strike her as…?
"You'll catch a cold if you linger in the rain like this. The Fire Lord won't be pleased."
Ah. Renkai.