Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Please Read This Note On Updates: In my latest attempt to get this project on track I have decided to try shorter chapters in the hopes of regular updates. Let me know if you agree with this new format or think I should stick with the long chapters please.

Pairing Announcement: It has come to my attention that some readers after reading the last chapter thought I was leaning towards Zuko x Katara as a pairing. This story will never contain Zutara. And in answer to some reviews there will not be polygamy in this story either, though I would consider that seriously before ever pairing Zuko and Katara.

Leaving the Nest

The calm before the storm, Azula thought idly. She stood in her personal chambers for what would likely be the last time in a long time. Mai and Ty Lee had helped her into her new armor… well, Ty Lee helped while Mai offered bland but colorful commentary on the girl's efforts. Now she was alone, waiting for the servant that would escort her to the ceremony that would send her off to the Continent with pomp and bluster she had done nothing yet to earn.

It was a contrary vein in her personality; she liked having power and respect, but disliked being put on display in ceremonies. Caught up in those rituals she felt like a puppet dancing to her ancestors' strings. Azula was many things, but one thing she would never be was anyone's puppet. Another reason she would sooner have Zuko on the throne; she was quite happy with the idea of ruling behind him while he got saddled with the silly stuff required of actually sitting on the throne.

Stepping up to her dresser she pondered how this would be somewhat reminiscent of her brother's departure. Well, with several key differences – she would receive the Fire Lord's blessings, with him removing her helm for an elder Fire Sage to anoint her with sacred martial oils befitting a General's elevation. Unlike the Navy, where the stroke of a pen could make you a power, the Army was an institute steeped in tradition stretching back millennia that had not been touched even by the times of peace. A General classically was not only a military commander but also a ruler in their area of command and a personal representative of their sovereign.

And the Navy and Sky Force for all their massive vessels simply could not win the public away from the romantic image of warriors charging into battle with fire and steel bared. Never discount the weight tradition could carry with the masses, even when it didn't make sense.

It was different from her old armor, custom made with an extra gold ornamentation and an archaic kanji for dragon inscribed on the left shoulder. There was a reason for it being the left but she could not recall it. The helm was the biggest difference for her. She had never worn one before and found its weight strange, tilting her head only to have the effort exaggerated. It was a less ornate version of the Firebender helm worn by the frontline benders, more streamlined. That had struck her as odd considering officers rarely wore their helmets as a sign of either arrogance or prowess. She had not attached the skull mask yet, a tribute to the skull worn by Agni himself in his journey into the spirit world. Her face seemed different looking out from beneath the steel and worked gold.

"It suits you," a soft voice spoke into the silence. Azula whirled on the spot, admonishing herself for being caught unawares. She admonished herself again as her eyes widened at the sight of her mother. The reaction was understandable considering their last private conversation, but as ever Azula held herself to a high standard.

"Fire Lady Ursa, is there something I can do for you?" Azula asked, regaining her composure. A slight frown appeared on her mother's face at the formal address; she made her way to stand before her daughter looking down on her. Azula hated positions like this, being reminded of her own height compared to others – thank Agni most people were required to kneel before her.

Ursa reached out her hand to cup her daughter's cheek, the tips of her fingers reaching under the helm to touch the hair bundled back out of sight. Despite herself Azula made a noise out of surprise at the contact. She would only have been angered if she could see her confused expression.

"A shame though to cover your hair like this, you have always had the loveliest hair I've ever seen," Ursa continued sadly. The hand on her face was warm, and Azula felt like screaming at the feeling of the soft, warm pressure.

"Why are you here?" Azula demanded, trying to sharpen the tone. An act far more difficult than it should have been.

"A mother can't help wanting to speak with her child when she is setting out into danger," Ursa answered. The Fire Lady's eyes widened in surprise as Azula seized her wrist and yanked her hand away. Azula did not let go of her wrist, holding it between them, her eyes narrowed and beginin to smolder, with stray predawn light playing across them.

"Your child? What are you playing at?" Azula hissed. Ursa blinked and tried to withdraw her hand only to find Azula holding it solidly in place, more than a little disturbed by the tone and question. She looked to her daughter her expression asking the question without words.

"Your child… last time we spoke you called me unclean. You warned me to stay away from your son and called me sick. You slapped the same cheek you just caressed. Why call me your own now when you have made it clear you don't think of me as anything but the spawn of your loveless marriage?" Azula demanded. Ursa took a deep breath; she had been preparing for this conversation for months, and delaying it to her shame. The Fire Lady could not and would not back down now; this needed to be done, for her children's sake.

"Azula, I was shocked by what you have been doing. Anyone would be, Iroh was. People can say things, and want nothing more than to take them back. You are my daughter, I held you in my arms and found you beautiful," Ursa answered. And it was true. From the moment Azula was set in her arms on the day of her birth, her heart could only be filled with true happiness more than any other mothers. She could never figure out what made that happiness fade, or what made both she and her daughter so distant from each other.

"Held me? When? You've pulled me by my wrist, slapped me in the face, and turned your back on me; but I cannot remember you ever once holding me as you did Zuko. Father at least believed in me enough to be a tool to our nation's ambitions, but you have only ever noticed me to show your disapproval," Azula growled, her grip tightening. The princess didn't mean to let the pain these memories brought show, but they did regardless.

"Azula," Ursa interrupted. Her daughter was strong; her hand was going numb in the girl's grip.

"No, you don't get to say you're sorry and act like you love me just to ease your conscience if I die! Or have you given up on Zuko and now you cling to me because I'm all you have left?

"Do you know the reason I went to Zuko's bed? Not for that, when it was truly innocent. I did have nightmares and all the luxury of my chambers did not make them any less empty or the shadows any thinner. When I went to your quarters Father turned me back to my room saying I would be stronger for not running to you two.

"You never said a thing when I looked to you, hoping you would tell him I could stay. I was still scared so I went to Zuko and he did not turn me away. He made me feel safe, and loved in the night. He still does, and without conditions.

"And that disgusts you. You have no right to come here and dangle love in front of me for your own sake. No, not when you still see me as a monster," Azula hissed. She released her mother's hand and walked over to the dresser where the mask lay pale in the sunlight.

"Azula," Ursa whispered, rubbing her wrist.

"Can you accept it? Us?" Azula asked sharply. Her back was to Ursa but the mirror let them see the other clearly. Azula looked so young, the regal armor placed on a child who should not be wearing such, much less going off to war.

What could she say? Her daughter for this moment had bared herself, pleading even if the prodigy didn't realize it. It was a gesture of trust she knew was unheard of from the girl. But, she could not condone it, even if it was the only way to bridge this chasm. It was a bond that went against gods and mortals even without the law. She looked away, closing her eyes to hold back the tears.

Ursa did not know how long she stood like that before a sound of metal sliding on metal opened her eyes. She could still see Azula in the mirror, but that familiar and strange face was now covered by a war mask, only her eyes shining through the sockets. The eyes were enough; once more they glinted like sun light off steel.

"Your majesty, it is time I was on my way," Azula stated, her voice warped with a metallic echo by the mask. Ursa nodded, not trusting her voice. With a formal bow the soon to be anointed General walked past her out of sight. After the door closed she let the tears come, because it didn't matter anymore were Azula went; they were already worlds apart.

Ozai's face was expressionless as he watched this daughter of his approach him clad in armor never before worn by someone of her green years. Despite it all there was a ghost of pride in this moment; after all, it was his blood surpassing Iroh's in one fell swoop.

Still, it did needle him to hand her this; had she still held his favor he would not have granted it. As talented as Azula was it took far more than firebending and a royal pedigree to make something of an army gone to seed.

She knelt before him and he was required to rise, leaving his seat of power to acknowledge her. The Sunrise Throne sat dominating a courtyard, open to the sky and one wall missing facing into the east, the direction of sunrise. He much preferred the throne room; the controlled environment wreathed in the Fire Lord's own bending conveyed the absolute power the sovereign had over his realm.

Here there was no fire to separate him from the jackals of his court, much less his weakling daughter.

Descending from the dais a single step he gracefully bent to pluck her helm from her head. He did not see her face since, as tradition dictated, she lowered her face when the helm and mask left it. Ozai took one step back, holding the helm firmly in front of him. The Elder Sage came forth with three others holding the oil vessels.

As the old man harped about Agni and other matters of religion that the Fire Lord had no time for, he studied the helm. He had always approved the idea of war masks – it placed Firebenders a step above mere Fire Nationals, and made them less human in the face of their enemies.

It was a finely crafted piece of steel, he would admit that. Custom made, though that was true of all General helms, some sort of spells cast by the smiths if he recalled correctly. Why hadn't Sozin done away with these excessive ceremonies in the Great Military Reformation? A General was merely a commander of troops, and a mere commander should not receive such fanfare before they have achieved anything.

Yes, that was the crux of his dislike for this ceremony and so many other aspects of his nation – the assumption of entitlement.

He did not resent his brother's fame; Iroh had earned his laurels in sweeping conquests of the Earth Kingdom unseen since the Hu Xin campaign and not matched again till the Comet. No, it was that Iroh had held their father's esteem from Ozai's earliest memories that vexed him. It had never been a question of which son was most fit for the throne – Iroh had been tapped for that position simply by being born first.

True, he could have challenged his brother to an Agni Kai for the throne. That had in fact been the goal that had driven him to not only master but also gain supremacy in the bending arts. But it was too late by the time he reached the summit.

Iroh, as the Dragon of the West, was a living legend, and had an heir to carry on his line. Even if Ozai had bested him in an Agni Kai the masses or the military would have torn him from the throne for a dead man's sake.

While Iroh was given armies to expand the empire he was given ships to search for the Avatar of all things. Other men might have seen his time in the navy as a chance to prove himself away from Iroh and the court, but only the slight existed for Ozai.

He did not believe in gods, but fate was another matter. When Iroh's legend and son both died before the walls of Ba Sing Se he had known fate had anointed him for the throne. While Iroh warred he had built his powerbase among the court and the elite of the Fire Nation. It stunned him to this day how easy it had been. His wife hadn't even needed to be sacrificed as he thought she might.

Ah yes, his wife, another place where his father had favored Iroh. As firstborn Iroh should have been held to a political marriage to strengthen the dynasty's influence amongst society's cream. Instead, he had been permitted to wed the woman he desired, a weakling poet girl from the low nobility, who couldn't even survive bearing an heir. Ozai had borne his own political marriage to a powerful industrial clan heiress without complaint, and still Iroh was favored.

While there was no love lost between him and Ursa, they had at least been able to live civilly in the early years of their marriage. She was obedient enough to him and bore him heirs to secure the bloodline. And he did not mistreat her and allowed her free reign in her personal affairs so long as they were not shameful. Neither of them had ever had to step across the lines they had drawn… until the children, that is.

Ursa proved herself a hypocrite and that was something he could not stand. She begrudged him for favoring the child he had seen himself in, even while she smothered what little potential their son had. Zuko had enjoyed his favor until the boy proved inferior, then as logic dictated Ozai had given his attention to the one that had shown promise, the second born.

While he hated making mistakes, life had taught him the folly of not admitting them. He had thought Azula the ideal instrument to securing both his ambitions and his legacy. Only war and the affairs of state had come before crafting her into what he needed. Ursa had actually cooperated for once; when Azula took to his lessons so well she stopped trying to weaken her, and he had seen that as his victory. Yet there had been his great error, he had been watching the wrong royal in his scrutiny.

He paused in his reflections, lifting the helm to the rising sun, calling on his divine ancestor Agni to be both spear and shield to his servant. The words were ancient ritual unchanged, allegedly, since the Golden City – personally, he found it degrading that he should be made to pray when his authority was meant to be absolute.

Placing the helm back on Azula he caught her slightly upturned gaze. It was empty, as he had taught her when facing those who played the game of crowns. The affection he had never required but become used to was gone. A pity; while that made her stronger it could also make her a liability.

That son of his was worse than useless, he was corrosive. But it was not a loss he couldn't overcome; he would simply make new heirs once the time was right.

The ceremony played out as it was meant to and with grand fanfare the Royal General Azula departed for the Continent as the sun rose into the sky.

General Azula stood on the upper deck of the Royal family's personal flagship, looking out to sea. She was still clad in her ceremonial armor, but had left the helm back in her chambers.

"Watch out, people may start confusing you with me," Mai commented as she walked out onto the deck. She was wearing standard officer armor, though she had black cloth in place of any red.

"Hardly, I'm not moping," Azula answered. She glanced back, tracking her adjutant's approach till the girls stood side by side.

"Standing alone, staring out to sea, sounds pretty mopey to me," Mai pressed with her bored tone.

"It might be if I was looking back toward the nest, but I'm facing forward. These are the last years of the war Mai. Whether it ends in three years or ten the era we were born into will end and a new one shall unfold. History is on the move and those who don't play a part in shaping it will be left behind or trampled," Azula stated.

"Oh that's good, use that on the troops when we get there," Mai commented with discernible sarcasm.

"Heh, you never have had the proper sense of awe or ambition. I wonder if you might actually be a Firebender but can't make a spark for lack of passion? Speaking of passion, where's Ty Lee?" Azula asked, brushing an errant hair out of her face.

"Probably teasing the cooks into giving her free sweets. Honestly she can be as bad as you at getting what she wants for nothing," Mai rolled her eyes. Azula laughed at the naïve and innocent acrobat being compared to her.

"Please, we're not even in the same league when it comes to getting what we want," Azula chuckled.

"Definitely, she doesn't have to scare people to do it," Mai stated. As Azula bristled the newly minted officer beat a hasty but triumphant retreat. The General quickly deflated at the absence of anyone to vent.

The Royal City was a viper's nest, but Azulon was the jewel of the Continental colonies. And she was the fresh fish thrown into the market. The Third Army was the first thing she would have to seize, then the city, then the colonies, and at some point the Fire Nation itself. This was going to take awhile.

She hoped Zuko wasn't doing anything stupid. If she did all that to get him back, and he got himself killed on some godforsaken shore, then she would just have to kill herself to hunt him down in the afterlife and kill him again.

HQ of the Third Army of the Fire Nation, Red Crown Palace, City of Azulon:

The Continent, home to the Earthbenders since time immemorial; its history was nearly as bloodstained as the Home Islands. Though unlike the Home Islands, the wars had been between separate tribes and kingdoms throughout most of the history. Even today the ruins of fallen civilizations could be found throughout the continent, civilizations destroyed by plague, natural disaster, or war. It had been only centuries ago that Ba Sing Se had united the Continent under its rule, through conquest and negotiation, making the Earth King's title actuality. And now it was divided between the empire that was and the empire that would be.

Nowhere was the march of history more evident than in this city.

The city of Azulon spread out under the moonlight. Majestic crimson spires, decorated with golden patterns loomed over the cityscape. The city spread out below, in a grid of streets, gracefully curved avenues, and squares of varying sizes. It was the beauty unique to a city whose construction was planned step by step with years as the measuring stick.

Azulon was named for the late Fire Lord; he had not conquered it, but it had been transformed under his reign. A hundred years ago a modest Earth Kingdom port named Devo had occupied this land; that town had been annihilated during the initial campaigns of the war. What had risen from the ashes was a military base and shantytown to accommodate the Fire Nation forces operating in the region. Then Crown Prince Azulon had used this dilapidated metropolis as a staging ground and was often frustrated by its poor infrastructure hindering his supply trains. Thus under his reign as Fire Lord, the area had been radically redeveloped as a hub for both war and colonization.

For all intents and purposes what had risen from the mud was the manifestation of Fire Lord Sozin's ambitions, a Fire Nation city erected on Earth Kingdom territory. The city and its province was the poster child for the colonial program; Fire Nationals made up more than ninety percent of the populace, the remainder being slaves from the Earth Kingdom. The culture, food, and even the climate made it seem like one of the Home Isles had collided with the Continent. The incentive of land grants to soldiers had transformed the demographics. Unlike the Home Islands, landed gentry were the rarity, in favor of independent farmers and towns owing allegiance only to the state rather than even lip service to aristocrats.

This was the last place in the colonies that trouble could start. Which made it either a humiliating posting, or a wonderful one depending on your ambitions in the war. These last years the garrisoning of Azulon and its colonial province had fallen to the Third Army, and they chafed under it.

The Third Army had first made a name for itself in the early days of the war, suffering a string of defeats against the forces of the Earth King. It had taken the personal intervention of Fire Lord Sozin to salvage the situation with the Battle of Han Tui. Under their monarch's command the Third Army had redeemed itself, reversing its earlier set backs. Crown Prince Azulon had later commanded them as General of the Third Army and they had spearheaded the conquest of the Hu Xin Provinces, and stunningly triumphed over an Earth Kingdom army three times larger than their own at the Battle of Garsai. In light of this the Third Army became famous as the Royal Army, feared by the enemy, revered by the Fire Nation.

It had come as no surprise that when Crown Prince Iroh received his generalship, it was over the Third Army. Under the Dragon of the West the Third Army once again covered itself in laurels. In recognition of their great General they even changed their styling from the Royal Army to the Dragon Army.

Sadly, their star had fallen along with their last great commander. Though by all accounts they fought valiantly against the defenses of Ba Sing Se and achieved an unprecedented breach of the Outer Wall, in the end it was not enough. After all, five attempts in the war had been made to breach those walls and no one had been able to breach them to the croplands that made the city invincible. As such the walls had become legendary as unbeatable, a fool's errand many whispered.

Fire Lord Azulon had given up the city in his strategies on ascension, focusing his efforts on the more attainable prizes, devouring the Earth Kingdom piece by piece. Had anyone but his son the Dragon of the West dared suggest invading the Invincible City, Azulon would have stripped them of their rank. Had Iroh succeeded he would have surpassed Sozin the Magnificent, and ended the war in a single great stroke. But he failed and lost his heir and aura of infallibility.

The rest, as they say, was history. Fire Lord Azulon died shortly thereafter and supposedly out of spite for Iroh's arrogance raised Ozai to the Blazing Throne. So the Dragon of the West fell from the heavens as a hanger-on of his brother's court.

Naturally his disgrace had not made his legendary army vanish, though they may have preferred such a fate. Rather than being applauded for their unprecedented tactical success their strategic failure was nearly shouted from the rooftops. Stripped of their honors in a way a Royal General couldn't be, they had been withdrawn from the front and turned into what amounted to a bloated constabulary for the Azulon Province.

Azula shifted her gaze from the cityscape to focus on the garrisons. This was where she would begin. This city and this army would be the seeds that would grow into her father's ruin. Resting her hand on the pommels of Kuzan's swords, she almost wished the old sadist would be here to watch her turn lead into gold.

Mai's family did a good deal of business through the port of Azulon; one of her older cousins actually resided here minding their interests. Since the army was always something to take into account it had been simple for Mai to figure out what the situation was with the Third through her family. Mai told her the officers in this palace and city could be divided into three factions. This was the system that she would either have to master, or destroy and rebuild to her own designs.

Uncle Iroh's veterans were around of course. Many of the soldiers who stayed on after Ba Sing Se ended up noncoms and lower officers. It was either that or civilian life; rivalry had always been a problem between the armies, and the Third reaped the bitter fruits of it former preeminence. There were still a few odd elders among the brass who had served in Iroh's command; they could be quite useful if brought around.

That would be quite tricky, as their hostility to her father was logical and obvious. The trick was getting them to see her as the Dragon's niece rather than Ozai's brat. Having studied under the same teacher as Iroh would help with that, but was hardly enough on its own.

Then there were the ambitious youngsters, only a few years older than her as it turned out. These younger officers who hoped to advance primarily by transferring out of Third Army with recommendations to more prestigious postings. Though, they couldn't have been well connected to end up in Third army in the first place.

That hunger was there to be exploited. But first she needed some meat to toss to them. Otherwise they might be susceptible to her father's offers if he decided to take some initiative. This was where she would have to begin winning the Third.

Finally there were the parasites that held favor with the former General. Her predecessor, who had apparently had an entire career in the army without presiding over a battle, a political appointee and master of graft more concerned with carving a piece of Azulon's pie for himself than the upkeep of the Third Army. His inner circle were cut from the same cloth, the scheming scum of the Fire Nation military, dropped here because no one else would have them. They were curbed by the city fathers and the sterner policies of Iroh's old men and a few idealists in the second faction. Now that their glorious leader had hopped on a swag heavy boat for home they would be watching her.

She couldn't afford to alienate them immediately – jackals are dangerous when cornered. And if they discovered her fall from grace they would stick the knife into her back themselves for her father's favor. But if she appeared to be one of them she would burn her bridges with all other players.

Well she knew it wouldn't be easy, overthrowing autocrats never was. And if she couldn't master this city and the rotting army it held… well, that said a great deal about her future. She had Mai for advice and some inroads into the city, and Ty Lee to watch her back, making sure said back remained dagger free.

For the first time, as she looked over the city she wondered if she had waded in over her head. With a flack of her head Azula dismissed the notion; she had yet to meet a challenge she couldn't overcome. Besides, Zuko was well worth the extra effort. The General did frown as she stepped back into her chambers to find Mai waiting.

"Is it time for the banquet already?" Azula asked; she was quite good at keeping track of time. But then, she regarded herself as being quite good at most everything.

"No, letter came for you. It's from Zuko," Mai supplied, holding out a scroll case. Azula's eyes actually widened at the words, never mind the near monotone that said them. Hastily stepping forward she snatched the case from her adjutant's hand, ripping it open with no regard to the seal.

To my Honorable Sister Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation and General of the Third Army.

I recently heard of your elevation to the rank of General. It is fitting for you to hold such a position that once again places you a cut above not only your peers but also your predecessors. I have no doubt the progress of the war will dramatically improve with you leading our nation's troops.

Of this writing we are searching the northern reaches of the Continent for signs of the Avatar. I have recently learned there was a rebellion centered out of the Northern Air Temple. The records say the structure has been abandoned since the Purge, so this constitutes our first possible lead. Strangely the local officers seem tight lipped on the nature of the rebellion.

Uncle shares my suspicions that the war has not been progressing in this region as the official records state.

Uncle had been himself, organizing a music night that may be capable of brining even you to your knees. I understand the slave girl has taken to it, dancing of all things. I worry that having a dancing girl on board may affect discipline, but until it causes trouble I will allow them their nonsense.

I had my first taste of battle against a group of pirates. Their ambush has made me more wary in navigating the seas, particularly when we leave the territories dominated by the Fire Nation. The pirates themselves were hardly exceptional; the only difficulty was a pair of benders - a deserter who unfortunately escaped and a female water bender.

Surprisingly, it seems she hails from the Northern Tribe. The reason she had employed with the pirates was she violated their social taboo of pursuing bending beyond the healing arts. Her missing ear apparently marked her as exile even to the Southern remnant. Though, her word is hardly reliable, as her mind seems to have succumbed to considerable madness at some point in her exile.

It is a sign of our civilization's superiority; the Northern Tribe deprives itself of several potential benders simply due to gender. It would be amusing to see them face you in battle and melt their notions of female inferiority along with their ice.

We turned her in for the bounty without incident. The slave girl seemed shaken by her presence on the ship. I thought it was the presence of a fellow Water Tribe woman, but perhaps she realized how savage her own people can be.

I will leave our Lieutenant in command of the ship at the river port closest to the Northern Temple. From there I will proceed with Uncle and our Firebenders to the Temple. My letter of mark declares me to be on a mission from the Fire Lord to locate the Avatar. That should provide us entrance even if my status as crown prince falls short.

I pray this finds you in good health and hope you respond.

Your Brother,

Zuko, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation

Azula couldn't help but sigh at her brother's antics as she finished reading the letter. While an insurrection centered on an Air Nomad Temple was odd, she highly doubted it had anything to do with the Avatar. As far as she was concerned, he was chasing the ghost of a shadow. But her brother could be rather thick headed at times; she really needed to work on his cynicism more.

"Wow, you're actually smiling rather than using an evil grin. What does Zuko have to say?" Mai asked. It wasn't proper protocol for her to address him without his title; Azula ascribed it to Mai's irreverent attitude and forgave her for the breach without a word.

"My brother has decided to take Father's joke seriously. He actually got into a real fight and won, clearly I am rubbing off on him," Azula announced. With more reverence than intended she returned the letter to its case. It would be nice to keep it even after memorizing, but it might be best to burn it, she thought reluctantly.

AN2:

Well there it is, and it only took two months and redefining my chapter goals to get it here… Well, I hope you let me know your thoughts on the change.

Thanks to Zim'smostloyalservant and Pulchra-16 for their beta work on this chapter.

Please review, even if it is to tell me I am doing something wrong. I would rather have harsh criticism than silence.