Book 2
-5 years later-
Book 2 Summary: Azula is called back to Capital City for a plot against the throne and must juggle obligations to her nation, her family, and her lover. Choosing one may mean losing another. femslash. Onwards to plot!
Chapter 5: Into a nest of fools
"Princess, forgive me."
Azula lifted her head off of her pillow, snapping awake sharply. She focused momentarily on the bearded cat that lay on the coverlet next to her. Tonkara stretched and trilled as she wrapped two paws around her eyes in response to the intrusion. Kota, her bodyservant, stood next to her bed, a dark silhouette against the light of the hallway. As Azula sat up, she noted Kota was in her sleeping robe as well.
"Is there an emergency?" she asked sharply.
Kota held out a scroll. "It may be, Princess. This was delivered by a hooded man. He had the looks of being a servant of an affluent family."
The wax was black, marked with a generic seal of the Fire Nation war: a snarling dragon head. It was rather melodramatic; she'd never actually seen black wax used in anything but tawdry drama plays. Most people up to no good knew better than to mark their messages with the color that designated subterfuge. Azula stared at it for a moment as she tried to guess what this could be about; a joke perhaps? She broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.
"Light," she said.
Kota didn't bother to light a lamp. She bent fire, producing a steady bright flame that flickered only slightly from the soft draft that blew through the drapes.
Most Prodigious and Rightful Firelord:
We of a private order wish to restore you to your rightful place on the throne of the Firenation. The current and undeserving man who sits on your throne must be deposed. We are willing to meet and discuss a plan to enact for these measures in the Firenation Capital. Arrange a visit to the Capital, and we will send further messages to communicate the time and place.
It was unsigned.
She was awake. Azula handed the strip of paper to Kota. "Read it and carry it. No one else is to see these words. Prepare the household for my departure tomorrow morning."
"To Capital Island?"
It was a subtle question: to the usurpers or to the Fire Lord? Her first instinct was usually the right one, and in this case there was no question where her loyalties lay now. Her answer was, "To the Royal Palace."
Kota's fire winked out in an instant, leaving only blackness behind. As Azula's eyes adjusted to the silver moonlight softened by the drapes, Kota bowed. "Yes, Princess."
The bearded cat rolled over and stretched before she curled up and nestled in the crook of Azula's body. Tonkara's deep purrs soothed Azula's rising emotions, but it was a long time spent listening to the soft roar of the ocean before she managed to fall asleep.
As her carriage rolled down the switchbacks into the capital, the citizens of the city began lighting lanterns to ward of the darkness of night. It made for a pretty sight, a speckled tapestry of light in the darkness that reflected the starry sky. Azula parted the drapes of the carriage to watch the city come alive. Beside her, Kota sighed at the sight.
"Do you miss living here?"
"Are you asking me, Princess?"
Azula lifted her eyebrows, irritated by such a useless question. "Do you see anyone else around that I could be talking to?"
Kota lowered her head. "My parents live here; I grew up here."
Azula's eyes tracked the line of streets; her mind was only half engaged. "Do you see them often?"
"There's rarely time. But they understand the importance of my work, and they're busy with their own jobs. We correspond regularly."
"Arrange a day for one of the juniors to serve me."
Kota stilled; her breath caught. Azula glanced over, realizing what her servant had assumed. "Don't be an idiot. You're competent, and I don't plan to replace you. Take the time to visit your family."
Kota lowered her head, this time in gratefulness. "Thank you, Princess."
She flicked her wrist dismissively. She trusted Kota to appoint someone of a specific capacity to replace her: just good enough to be adequate but not outshine her. Azula was no fool to the pecking order of servants. She paid hers well. Being the Princess of the Fire Nation meant a place in her household was coveted…no matter the temperament of said princess.
"We should catch the end of the family supper, Princess. Or would you prefer to dine in your quarters?"
She'd never hear the end of it if she didn't drop in on her family. "I suppose I'll have to suffer the company."
A quarter of an hour later—in time for full darkness to blanket the city—they stepped out of the carriage and onto the palace grounds.
In the few months since Azula's last visit, Mai's cultivation of the empty grounds around the palace had continued with a new row of palm trees along the central path. It was a little rural for Azula's tastes, but it cooled what was usually a baking hot cobblestone road. Light flickered from the balconies and windows, lighting up various tapestries and mosaics, and the scent of flowers was soft on the breeze. Mai had certainly brightened the palace décor inside and out in the years she'd been living there.
Kota murmured with a palace servant—one who was loyal to Azula and kept her rooms ready—and quickly caught up to Azula as she made her way to the balcony where her family customarily supped.
"Are there any letters for me here?" She was hoping for news from Katara; letters always came to the palace before being forwarded to Ember Island. Katara would likely be gone another month, but she was definitely going to be here for Zuko and Mai's wedding. Kota replied that there was no waiting letter.
There was a touch of disappointment but no surprise. Katara usually didn't write when she knew she'd be returning to the Fire Nation soon. "Have my writing desk ready."
"Yes, Princess."
Kota stopped and bowed as Azula motioned her away. Azula continued at a quick pace down the hallway towards her family. They were informed of her arrival, no doubt.
When she swept through the thin curtains onto the balcony, fewer people awaited her than she expected. Zuko was quick to speak; he wasn't exactly welcoming. "Why are you here?"
"It's lovely to see you too, Brother. But I do need to speak with you privately, preferably tonight."
His expression softened. He brushed his loose hair off of his shoulder and stood, drawing her into a stiff hug that they both only tolerated for a few moments. They performed these gestures now even outside of Ursa's presence; their mother had trained them that well. He even ventured to say, "You look good, Azula."
He was trimmer than he'd been the last time she'd seen him. "You've begun training again."
"I was tired of tailors taking out the waists of my clothes, and Mom will kill me if I'm not fit for the wedding." He motioned for her to sit down at the table. Mai reclined there, looking shockingly mellow. She gave Azula a little wave and sipped at her wine. Azula would have worried about sitting down during a doubtlessly inane romantic dinner, but the table was still set for four people. Iroh and Ursa had already retired for the evening.
A servant cleared off a place at lightning speed, and a new plate appeared, heaped with soft cabbage rolls and a dipping dish of sweet-legume sauce. Azula waved away the wine she was offered and accepted cold tea instead. The meal was a little heavy for so late in the day, but it was too good to decline.
"Are you ready to be useful again?" Zuko asked her.
Azula pointedly ignored that jab as she tucked into her meal. Ursa and Mai had been corralling her into their letter writing campaign urging nobles to part with their money for social programs for several years. That was enough of a headache. She refused to do Zuko's job for him in any capacity.
"Oh, shut up, Zuko. You volunteered for this job," Mai muttered. "I don't care how many nobles you have to suck up to, it can't be as bad as planning a wedding with your mother." The last two words had as much deep, ugly frustration as Mai was capable. Azula smirked into her cup as Mai continued. "You'd think she was the one getting married."
"We can't have pink drapes and a white wedding robe, can we?" Azula snipped.
Mai calmly raised her middle finger.
"Ugh. Why can't we just…" Zuko trailed off. Mai rolled her eyes and finished, "Elope? I already asked you that."
Azula took pleasure in snidely reciting: "One of the responsibilities of being Fire Lord and Fire Lady is having a very public wedding and offering a massive feast with an open table. But I think any bride has to survive her mother-in-law's controlling nature."
"I heard that." Ursa stepped out onto the balcony. Her hair was down—more gray than black now—and she wore no makeup. Her robe was unadorned, doubtless for sleeping, and she was barefoot. Azula imagined Ursa and Iroh's majordomo chasing her down the hallway with slippers. The Honored Mother's blessed feet should never touch the ground!
Like this, Ursa looked both younger and older than usual to Azula.
"I didn't know you were planning to visit, Azula," Ursa said. Azula suffered a kiss to her hair and Ursa's arms around her shoulders in a gentle hug. Before she could react, Ursa had untied both of her sleeves. She'd gotten proficient at it. "It's so good to see my baby girl."
"You'd think I'm not over twenty," Azula muttered, irritated as the elbows of her robes fell open and her sleeves went heavy and long. "Give those back."
Ursa gave her another squeeze and then landed a loud smacking kiss to her temple. As she rose, she swatted Azula's shoulder and set her sleeve ties on the table. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, sweetie. Sleep well. Please stop wearing those ridiculous ties."
"Tell Iroh goodnight. And I refuse."
Ursa paused at the drapes, cocking her head. She smiled. "I will. Goodnight, Zuko, Mai."
"That was sickening," Mai muttered after Ursa was gone. "For someone who claimed to hate her family, you sure go all sweet with your mother."
Azula supposed that to someone who was used to ignoring her mother's existence, putting up with Ursa qualified as going 'all sweet'. She managed to tie one sleeve off one-handed, and Kota appeared out of thin air to quickly attend to the other. "Maybe if you did the same you'd have less trouble planning your wedding."
Mai smirked, leaning her head on her hand. "You're going to be my main cohort, just so you know. I'm thinking bright pink would be great for you."
Azula didn't believe for a second that her robes for the ceremony weren't already made; she'd been measured time and time again throughout the year. "Unless that color is going to be on Ty Lee, I disagree."
Mai reached out and intertwined her fingers with Zuko's, conceding the point. "I suppose I shouldn't underestimate your ability to make me miserable. What color do you want?"
"Really? You're asking me about clothing?" Azula accepted the thick coca-bean tea a servant set beside her. She poured milk into it and stirred it. It was rich and pleasant, and she sipped it as she considered. "Red."
"Told you," Zuko muttered.
"Or black."
"Told you," Mai said.
They smirked at each other and kissed.
Once, she would have been disgusted. Now she was resigned…and a little envious. She made a rude noise anyway and said, "I think that's my cue to remind you, Zuko, that we need to talk."
"Can it wait until tomorrow?"
"No."
He sobered and got to his feet. "I guess that means you want to talk in private."
"Your analytic powers astound me, as always, Brother."
Azula waited while he kissed Mai and told her he'd be in bed soon. Then they walked side-by-side down the airy hallway out of the east wing. Water Tribe tapestries decorated these walls. Azula couldn't imagine what kind of rage Ozai might go into seeing that. All in all, it did have a pretty effect. Whether or not decorations could help soften the tenuous relationship between Zuko and either Water Tribe still remained to be seen.
Her brother looked like a man; he was tall and broad, and he took more after Ozai than probably anyone in the family wanted to dignify. At least Zuko avoided facial hair. Azula had once had a private fear about her own height—especially after she'd learned Iroh was her father—but she'd grown even in her late teens. She stood to Zuko's ear, tall in her own right. If not for Zuko's scar, they might pass as twins.
The irony wasn't lost on her.
He swept aside an old tapestry—one they'd improved as children with a curly mustache and thick eyebrows—and she ducked behind it, familiar with this old passage. They used to spend hours as children exploring the palace, finding rooms and servant halls that often led to dead-ends created by endless palace renovations. They stepped into one such dead-end now: an anteroom that used to be dusty and covered in cobwebs. When Zuko lit a lamp, Azula saw it had been cleaned up moderately. There were two chairs and a desk with a few oil lamps scattered around. Scrolls, ink, and writing brushes littered the desktop.
Azula drew her finger along a small serving table in one corner and wiped up a trail of dust. She continued with the gesture, drawing the character for 'dust'. Glancing over Azula's shoulder, Zuko snorted. "It's not really a secret room if I ask the servants to clean it."
She dusted her hands off. "You're a fool if you think any room in this palace isn't known by staff."
"You don't know my majordomo," Zuko replied, reclining in his writing chair. "He'd have a conniption fit if he knew there was any place in this palace that doesn't shine bright enough to see his reflection in it." His eyes sharpened as he focused on her. "What's the problem?"
Azula reached into her robe and handed him the scroll.
Zuko blinked at the broken black wax seal. As he read the message his face remained expressionless. He looked up at her, and they studied each other for a moment. He smoothed the paper out with a long breath. "Do you want the job?"
No flames, no rule. "No, Zuko. And I hope you know by now that I don't want you dead either."
"I love you too," he said dryly. The sigh he gave was heavy, and Azula watched the weight of the nation fall on his shoulders. Zuko shook the heavy hair from his face and brushed it over his shoulder.
"What do you want me to do about this?" she asked.
"What were you thinking?"
"Drawing out the trap. If they've gone as far as contacting me, either they're incredibly stupid or they have an elaborate plan in place. Given the black wax and misspellings, I'm inclined towards the former. I should hope that it goes without saying that this needs to remain between us."
He nodded slowly, considering it. "Might be dangerous."
She raised her eyebrows.
Zuko slowly grinned. "I guess you're betting on that."
Azula nearly skipped the letter she planned to write. It was late for her, but if she slept immediately, she'd suffer from heartburn. She would be better off getting some work done in the meantime. Kota set a soft lamp next to Azula on the desk and slipped away.
Azula dipped her brush in ink and carefully drafted her characters. The proper straight-backed technique of writing had been drilled into her by her calligraphy teachers at the academy, and she was grateful for their constant derision. If they'd given her any slack she knew she would have handwriting as sloppy as her brother's. For this correspondence, the phonetic noblewoman script would not be appropriate so she carefully formed each morpheme symbol with her writing brush. By the time she'd signed the letter, her eyes were heavy.
"Read this."
Kota drew forward, and her eyes flicked over the characters and words. "You sound assertive, Princess."
Azula rolled up the scroll, and Kota melted red wax with her bending. Into it went Azula's personal seal. Kota immediately left to find a trusted messenger. A fire hawk wouldn't do. It would have to cross the Great Sea.
Then she could rest.
The sheets were cool and comfortable against her skin. It was more humid in Capital City than on Ember Island, and the breeze from the balcony wasn't as strong as she liked. Despite herself, she missed her cat. Azula sighed and shifted, trying to find sleep even as her mind ran through all she would need to arrange for the coming days.
At least the first step was out of her hands. Maybe she'd go see Ozai tomorrow…
Sometime in the night, Azula awakened with a gasp of shock when someone clambered into bed with her. She relaxed as soon as she recognized the scent and sound of the intruder—who began to kiss her neck and shoulder and fumble with her robe.
"Katara. When did…?" she murmured. She was too sleepy to be embarrassed by the breathy quality of her voice. This was a surprise… A pleasant one. Her mind had trouble believing this was real and not a dream.
"Just got here," Katara whispered in her ear. Her fingers opened Azula's robes and traced maddening patterns across her skin. Her hand finally settled between Azula's legs, and oh…
She lasted only a few minutes. That wasn't long enough for Katara. She pulled Azula's robe off, breathed into her ear, and whispered how beautiful she was, how much she missed Azula and her body. Katara continued her caresses until Azula shuddered in completion once more.
Azula felt liquid and sinful and so relaxed, all things said and done. Or just done. Katara shifted to straddle one of Azula's thighs and rocked against her for only a moment before she came. Katara's gasp of pleasure and her wet heat were sinfully decadent. After that, Katara snuggled against her and was apparently satisfied for the night. Azula had the presence of mind to ask, "What time is it?"
"Late. Sleep," Katara whispered. "I'll be here in the morning."
It was too easy to obey.
It took Azula a few moments to recognize her surroundings when she woke that morning. She was hot; there seemed to be three layers of sheets on her body. Azula lifted her head and saw the source of the extra insulation: Katara had thrown all the sheets on her side of the bed over Azula sometime in the night.
Azula took a private, vulnerable moment to study the shape of Katara's sleeping face. She looked happy and relaxed. Her brown hair fell across her face in a gentle sweep of waves. One arm was crossed over her breasts, and she shifted in her sleep in an achingly familiar way. Azula had to stop herself from waking her lover. She wanted to pull Katara into her arms and hold her close.
It was undignified to feel something so soft. She escaped her compulsion with the thought that Katara undoubtedly had been traveling for some time and gotten in to the capital late last night. She would be tired.
The floor offered soothing coolness against her hot feet as she walked naked into the bathing chamber adjoined to her bedroom. Kota appeared only moments later, offering cold water to drink. Azula washed her mouth while her servant arranged her soaps. She bathed herself over the drain, and Kota dumped a bucket of clean, tepid water over her head to rinse her and began to work at Azula's hair, which was as long as Azula had ever worn it and too much for her to handle alone. Then Azula settled into the sunken pool to soak.
Only a few minutes later, the door to Azula's rooms opened, and Katara padded down the steps. She wore Azula's sleeping robe. Her hair tumbled wildly over her shoulders, giving her a rumpled look. Azula appreciated the bare length of Katara's legs and the elegant line of her ankles.
"I do love it when you wear my clothes," Azula said.
Katara cracked a sleepy yawn, but she wasn't sleepy enough to completely ignore Kota's presence. It was so odd to Azula—who had grown up with servants seeing everything—to be self-conscious over the presence of a woman who was paid to be discreet and most of all not to notice. But, for Katara to be free and relaxed, it was an easy matter to dismiss Kota with a flick of her wrist.
As soon as they were alone, Katara shucked the robe and slid into the water without bathing. It was a breach of etiquette that Azula would have protested a few years ago, but she'd learned anywhere that involved water was fair game for a waterbender lover. It didn't really matter in the Royal Palace, where the servants changed the water in the soaking tub daily.
They kissed, heavy and wet, luxuriating in each other. Three months was too long. Katara pushed her away and sat on the edge of the bath. She opened her legs, and Azula understood the unspoken command. Azula pushed between her legs and set to her task with a hunger that had been building in the months of Katara's absence.
Training would not happen that morning. Azula had more important things to attend to.
After they'd been in the bath long enough to prune, Katara settled in her lap and fiddled with Azula's fingertips. She traced the edges of them in a slow caress. Azula doubted she would have guessed the significance she placed on a woman's hands if she weren't in this relationship. One of the first things she'd looked at on a woman now was her hands. It was a language of itself, another complex layer to judging a person.
Katara echoed the thoughts she'd provoked. "I'm so glad you got rid of those scary nails."
"They would make certain activities difficult," Azula admitted. She supposed Katara had never learned that Azula hadn't 'gotten rid' of her nails by choice. She'd never had the patience to grow them out again—she'd developed the disgusting habit of biting them when they got long—and eventually she'd grown to prefer them short.
"Dangerous, more like. How did you masturbate with them?"
Azula scoffed, attempting humor. "What do you think a bodyservant is for, Katara?"
"You should have tried that joke a few years ago. I might have believed you then." By Katara's tone, it was clear she was humoring Azula. She sighed against Azula's neck sweetly. "Poor Kota. She'd be so embarrassed to hear you say that."
Azula nuzzled Katara's hair, appreciating her scent. "I never even thought about pleasuring myself until after I was with you for the first time."
"I corrupted you."
"I certainly wasn't protesting."
The small clock in the bathing chamber showed midmorning. Azula withdrew regretfully. "Go back to sleep. I have a few errands this morning."
"You could always come back to bed with me."
"Tempting me away from my duties, are you?" Azula clucked in mock disapproval. "We'll have plenty of time tonight." Azula smirked over her shoulder at Katara as she stepped out of the bath. "You should take the time to build up your strength."
"Is that so, Princess?" Katara rolled her eyes and smiled as she clambered out of the bath after Azula. Despite the bravado in her voice, she was an unmoving lump under the sheets by the time Azula was dressed. Azula paused on her way out to kiss Katara's shoulder and only provoked a sleepy mumble.
On the way to the family breakfast that had become customary since the war, Azula motioned for Kota to walk with her. "Arrange for an armorer to take my measurements this morning."
"Something in the modern fashion?"
"Something serviceable and fashionable, yes. Have both of my swords out for when I return."
"Yes, Princess." Her bodyservant bowed and turned away to see to it.
As she stepped onto the balcony, Azula was surprised to see so many people at the table: eight. Apparently Katara had come in with a party. She managed to keep her lip from curling at the sight of the Avatar taking breakfast next to Zuko.
Their interactions had been limited since the end of the war. She held a great disdain for his naivety in how he defeated Ozai and with his childish pacifist views. Azula had never been very good at hiding her negative emotions, and he was quick to catch onto her emotion. He clearly didn't approve of her in turn, probably particularly because of Katara.
Apparently he was trying to grow facial hair; all he'd managed so far was a pitiful wispy mustache. Azula looked at him, at his mustache, and felt a deep awful pulse of fear—at his power and his naivety in one—and she hated herself and him for that fear.
She'd been afraid of Ozai once, until she'd beaten him in battle. There was not that option with the Avatar. She was powerless and he was powerful, and she hated him for that. He lifted his eyes and met her gaze almost accidentally, and she sneered in her melange of dark emotion. The Avatar lost his smile immediately and looked away.
Before she could find her seat, Iroh rose from the table and reached out to press her hands. He smiled around his thick white beard. "You look well, Azula. It's nice to see you here again."
She suffered a reply. "I trust you're well, Iroh."
"Quite well, thank you." He motioned for her to take the vacant seat next to him. Azula dutifully said her 'good mornings' to her family as she sat. She was irritated to be stuck between Iroh and ever-smiling Ty Lee. She'd not guessed that morning that Ty Lee would be here. She must have volunteered to help Mai make final preparations for the wedding.
"Princess Azula!" Ty Lee's voice had deepened slightly with age, but she hadn't lost any chipper enthusiasm.
It wasn't the first time she'd seen Ty Lee since her betrayal, but Azula was just as uncomfortable with her presence as before. She wasn't sure how to act; so she simply ignored the source of her discomfiture past acknowledging her. "Good morning, Ty Lee."
Ty Lee beamed and pronounced, "Your aura looks so lovely and vibrant this morning. It's a wonderful purple of satisfaction." It wasn't surprising to hear the faintest touch of salaciousness in her tone.
Across the table, Katara's brother, Sokka, snorted into his bowl. Unlike the Avatar, he'd managed to grow a respectable beard. "Probably because Katara screw—" He quickly stopped when he glanced at Ursa and cleared his throat. "—er, you enjoyed Katara being here last night, Azula. As soon as Katara found out you were here, she was gone like—" He snapped his fingers.
Azula watched the Avatar's still boyish face tighten in anger. He got up and left the table without a word. She wondered if he'd ever get over Katara. Not that she could blame him. Katara was singular. Let him stew in her victory. Azula spoke to Sokka. "I wasn't aware we had such a large visiting party now."
With the exception of Toph Bei Fong—who treated everyone with the same careless disrespect—he was the most tolerant of Katara's social circle towards her. Azula couldn't take for granted Sokka's seemingly open acceptance. He smiled at her now genially. "Well, since Suki and I were never able to have a honeymoon, we figured we could come on out early to Zuko and Mai's wedding and have a nice vacation."
Azula remembered the scroll sealed by black wax in her chambers and all its implications. What an unfortunate time for an extended visit. Not that she could say anything but a polite nicety for Katara's sake. "I hope your stay is enjoyable."
From beside Sokka, Suki scoffed disdainfully. "Don't even give me that. You don't give a crap about anyone but yourself."
"Excuse me," Ursa gasped from across the table.
Azula raised her hand. She determined to enjoy this interaction while Katara was absent. "It's alright. Obviously this Kyoshi Warrior—Suki, was it?—still smarts over the fact that I so easily captured her quaint little band of warrior sisters." She plucked up some grapefruit and orangefruit and stirred them into her boiled oats. "And that I stole her clothing, impersonated her, and conquered Ba Sing Se."
Ty Lee apparently had no sense of self-preservation…or Suki had no authority to discipline one of her soldiers. Ty Lee grinned as she said, "That was awfully fun."
Across the table, Mai smirked in agreement. "Kind of makes me nostalgic."
Well, that was a nice little puff of nostalgia for Azula as well.
Azula continued, watching Suki's face harden with each word. "Because of you, Suki, I was able to lead a bloodless coup of an unconquerable city. I freed the civilians from the rule of a half-wit king, and I released them from the brainwashing tyranny of a megalomaniac. You should thank me for putting your equipment to such efficient use." She finished her statement by raising her teacup in a wordless toast.
Suki slammed her fists down onto the table. "Fuck your imperialism! You killed one of my girls when you captured us! Or did you forget about her blood?!"
"She stepped into my flame," Azula replied. "It was war. Don't pretend you didn't swing your sword at my neck with the intention of taking off my head."
"You can't justify everything with war!"
"No?"
Suki glared at her, but Azula kept her expression placid as she ate a tart bite of orangefruit. She had nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to fear from this woman. After a moment, Sokka placed a hand on Suki's arm with an awkward smile, but she shrugged him off and knocked over her chair in her haste to leave the table. A servant rushed forward to right it.
Two guests she'd managed to piss off in a manner of minutes. How delightful.
"Well, I never," Ursa said irritably.
"Perhaps, Azula, it would be easier to get along with others if you simply ignored their complaints." Iroh's voice expressed mild reproach. Ursa directed her frown to him as he spoke. Iroh had obviously missed the point: that Azula thought getting along with Suki wasn't nearly as fun as making her angry.
"I don't think you did anything wrong, Princess!" Ty Lee chimed in. Predictable. Sometimes she wondered who exactly Ty Lee was loyal to, and how it was so easy for her to seamlessly switch.
If this was a taste of what the rest of the day would be like, she wanted to go back to bed and enjoy Katara until this storm was weathered.
The tailor was already in the sitting room of her quarters when she arrived after breakfast. His assistant—a young, pretty woman who looked to be from the Earth Kingdom—began to take her measurements as the tailor asked her questions about how she wanted the armor styled.
Azula knew that the traditional black bone-armor that had been in style during the war would look very good on her, but she doubted she could stomach putting it back on after what happened the last time she'd worn it. It was also quite out of style. Thankfully.
The new style had arisen, in part thanks to Zuko's tastes. It consisted of a thinner and lighter armor that was supposedly as strong as the heavy armor of the past. The main tunic was reinforced by woven silk and thin sheets of tough komodo rhino hide, and it was covered by a few other layers of reinforced silk tunics.
More and lighter layers would decrease the friction of the armor on skin, and it supposedly offered greater protection by the very fact that the material would give with the thrust of a blade or the burst of flame. A hard belt secured the layers and was wide enough to protect the vulnerable belly.
The tailor asked her at length—though he did not waste any words—about what colors, styles, and emblems she wished to have sewn into her clothing. Eventually, he asked about her weapons.
"Princess, your servant has informed me that you would like two shoulder harnesses for swords. Worn crossed on the back?"
"Yes."
"Might I ask what kind and how long these swords are?"
Kota stepped forward with one of the blades. The armorer glanced at them. "Seventy centimeter jians?"
"Yes. I would also like a harness for a dagger." She withdrew the dagger Iroh had given her all those years ago from her robes, and the tailor held it gently in his hands. He rolled the sheath over in his fingers—his eyebrows rising at the craftsmanship on the stitching of the leather—and quickly measured the diameter without drawing the blade. The man bowed and handed the dagger back, blade towards him appropriately.
"Worn at the right hip?"
"Yes."
The assistant backed away with the measuring tape folded in her hands.
"I will need this finished by nightfall." She wanted to be ready to look the part when the rebels called on her, and who knew when that would be.
His expression stuttered only a moment before he bowed. Azula had enough idea of the scope of this task to appreciate the enormous burden she'd just placed on his shoulders. She made it worth his while. "If this project is completed on time and to my satisfaction, I will recommend your services and come to you first for any needs I may have in the future."
Endorsement by royalty would line this man's pockets with gold and set him for life. The tailor knew it; he bowed low in respect. "It shall be done, Princess."
"Dismissed."
After he left, she spent long moments in deep meditation as she routinely oiled her swords. Through her childhood, Ozai forbade her carrying a weapon; he thought it was demeaning to use something other than bending in battle. She'd always been interested in sword work and had spent the last few years learning how to wield them. There was something so satisfying about caring for her weapons.
She would have traded it all in a second for the chance to regain her bending or just feel her chi again. All these years, she'd continued with her meditations and katas, and still not one puff of flame. Had she known back during the war that this would happen, she would have appreciated her fire a great deal more.
Azula folded the heavy oiled cloth over her sword blade and exhaled as she drew the blade along it. With that breath and gesture, she also pushed those bitter thoughts away. Each stroke relaxed her more until she was settled and comfortable in her own skin again.
Her next task was far less peaceful, but Mai and Ursa had asked her to do it. If she didn't, she'd have both of them to contend with, which wasn't a pretty scenario. Kota arranged her writing desk, and Azula settled down at it. At least the first letter she wrote was gleefully fun.
To the esteemed Lord Tong,
I, Princess Azula of the bloodlines of Sozin and Roku, am writing on the behalf of the future Fire Lady Mai and the Honored Mother Ursa to request financial aid for the Nationalized School Initiative. I am certain you will be most accommodating towards funding our needs, as you are such an unfailing patron of the Muma District businesses. As I'm sure you know, half of the prostitution tax is used to fund the current public schools of the Fire Nation. Because of your generous weekly contributions towards this tax, I would like to reward you and your family with a party and a citywide announcement of the sum of your contribution. Of course, if you match the taxes you've thus far paid with a private donation to the crown, I will have to announce the donation instead of your prostitution tax contribution.
I look forward to hearing your reply.
Blackmail was ridiculously fun. She wished she could watch the nobleman squirm as he read her letter. She had no doubt they would receive a large donation to the Nationalized School Initiative because Tong was terrified his wife would find out exactly how much he spent per week on sexual purchases.
The next missives weren't as fun, unfortunately, and she had to write them as a request, not a threat. She was deep into the drafting of the third letter when warm arms wrapped around her shoulders. Katara kissed her neck. "What're you working on?"
"Boring, petty, stupid posturing."
"Sounds boring, petty, and stupid. Want to come to bed?"
Yes.
It had been too long. She felt slovenly, lazy, and like she was shirking her duties, but it didn't stop her from making love with Katara and enjoying every minute of it.
A while later, Azula lifted her head off a pillow, fascinated by the contrast between her black hair and Katara's soft brown spread across the sheets. "In bed all afternoon… Whatever will the servants think?"
"Kota's probably glad someone else is around to do her job for her."
Azula laughed as she imagined her prim bodyservant's reaction to that joke. "Working hard, are you?"
"Not really. You're pretty easy." Katara's smile was soft. She bit Azula gently on the hip, giving her a jolt.
"That happens when I have to attend to myself for several months at a time."
"I should have stayed longer in the South Pole, but I missed you, and Sokka came by on his way in." Katara laid her head on the arch of Azula's back and sighed, her fingers brushing gently along the line of Azula's shoulders. "I like watching you attend to your own need," she murmured sensually, caressing Azula's back. Katara's words and touch weren't enough to distract Azula from the memory of the uncomfortable breakfast that morning.
"Why did you have to bring all of them with you?"
"They're my family."
Azula heeded the sharp defensiveness of Katara's answer. She wished that Katara didn't think everything she said was meant as an insult. She rolled over to meet Katara's eyes. "Your brother is fine. It's the rest of them I'd prefer to stay well away."
Katara's expression relaxed. She held Azula's eyes—her eyes were so blue—as she laid her head back down on Azula's belly. "Did Aang make a scene?"
"On the contrary, all he does is get up and leave whenever I enter a room."
Katara arched her back as she stretched, and Azula smoothed her hand down her soft breasts, the sharp outline of her arched ribcage, and the gentle roundness of her belly. It was only natural to follow the flow of that body and slide her fingertips into the tangled hair between Katara's legs. Katara batted her hand away with a laugh. "I need a little more time. Some of us don't have an endless supply of orgasms."
"What can I say? I have stamina." Her statement drew a giggle. Azula gave herself a moment to lie there and enjoy the peace. She studied the tapestry that formed the canopy of the bed—woven blues of water and reds of fire that swirled into a combined violet burst. Mai had outdone herself with that find. Every time Azula looked at it, she remembered the heart-racing excitement of her bender battles with Katara and the pleasure of making love with her.
"I should get up."
Katara scowled at her, but Azula could tell it was a ruse. "So you can only stay in bed when I'm pliable and willing?"
"I said I should. I doubt I will."
"Why are you here, anyway? Not that I'm unhappy about it. I just didn't think you'd be in Capital City until right before the wedding."
"Zuzu needed a little help with something."
"Since when do you help your brother willingly?"
Azula stiffened at Katara's dismissive tone. Katara made it no secret that she didn't approve of Azula's hands-off attitude towards her family. Azula made it no secret she thought her relationship with her family was not Katara's business. Those arguments between them tended to degenerate into screaming matches, and Azula warred between her pride and her unwillingness to upset the good mood between them.
Katara quickly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound so…"
"Accusatory?"
Katara reached out to Azula's hand and threaded their fingers together. She tugged gently at Azula's hand, and despite herself, Azula was already ready to forgive after the simple apology. Katara took on a wheedling tone. "Don't be mad."
Azula couldn't stop her face from shifting into a slow smile. Katara's eyes flashed impishly, and her free hand sneaked towards Azula's ribs. Azula seized it to stop the attack she knew was coming. Katara freed her other hand and stabbed a finger into Azula's ribcage, and Azula gave a yelping laugh despite herself. She managed to sit on Katara's free hand long enough to grab her wrist, and Katara fell on her with a kiss.
Kota discretely entered the room, drawing Azula's attention. Katara saw the servant and stiffened. She quickly pulled the sheets up over them both...as if Kota didn't see Azula naked every day. Azula humored Katara's modesty.
"Forgive the intrusion, Princess, Lady Katara."
The scroll in Kota's hand was sealed with black wax.
Azula got out of bed, and Kota draped her robe around her shoulders. Katara was immediately alert. "What is it?"
"Something I need to take care of." Azula pushed her arms through her sleeves and belted the robe with a quick square knot. "Take a nap. You still look tired."
"What's that scroll about, Azula?"
"Let me read it first, and then I may be able to tell you." Azula couldn't temper her sardonic tone and knew as soon as she said it she was tempting fate. Katara clamped her teeth in irritation, and Azula retreated from the room before an argument could break out. She snapped the seal off of the scroll and unrolled it.
Tonight at midnight on Fang Street and 4th Lane of the Muma District
Azula's lips pinched. Of course they would choose Muma, the sex-trade district of the city. The designated corner was no doubt a lower end area. She would have to wear a cloak to disguise her clothing, but she would be damned if she met with the dissenters without her official armor on.
She could already guess that there would be no time to visit Ozai that day. What Azula really wanted was to crawl back into bed with Katara and nap the afternoon away. She could, honestly, and wait to make a move until she'd learned who wanted to usurp her brother.
The temptation was too great. She handed the scroll to Kota. "Keep it with the other. I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon."
Kota bowed in affirmation as Azula walked back into the bedroom.
Katara was still sitting up in bed. "Was that wax black?"
"Mmhm." Azula slid into bed. She wrapped her arms around Katara and settled against her, refusing to give more information.
"So it wasn't an emergency?"
"No."
"What was it about? I've never seen black wax on a scroll before."
"Some silly noble drama. It's not important." Azula sighed, realizing she was still tired from the late night last night. Her body relaxed in degrees, and Katara's curiosity seemed to bleed out of her as they both faded into sleep. There was no doubt she'd be wheedling information out of Azula soon enough.
The tailor arrived just before supper with her completed armor.
The tailor's assistant and Kota began to dress her: first the undershirt and trousers. Then a black long-sleeved tunic with long tails that fell to her knees. Over that was the maroon tabard reinforced with tough komodo rhino leather. The shoulders weren't the dramatic pointed ones of her youth; they rounded down over her shoulders in double caps.
She shifted within the clothes, liking the way the heavy tabard apron fell over her legs. Already it was more comfortable than seemed appropriate for armor.
Over the top of that went a sleeveless black silk tunic folded left-over-right across her chest. Its tails fell on either side of her hips, held in place by the wide belt across her waist. Her arm guards and boots were of the same material and pattern as the armored tabard. Her dagger sheath fit comfortably in a leather thong at her hip, and she draped her swords across her back.
Azula regarded herself in the polished mirror. Kota had drawn her hair into a complete topknot, and a golden triple flame hairpiece flashed there. She wore makeup for the first time in months. Azula lifted her chin. Reflected back at her in that mirror was someone she hadn't seen in a very long time: a competent warrior, a sure firebender, and the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. If only one of those designations wasn't a lie.
If only she didn't look like a stranger.
"Very good," she said quietly. It almost surprised her to see the woman in the mirror speak when she did. She took a deep breath and settled her dignity under her shoulders. She was a Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. It was time to act like it again.
The tailor beamed and bowed so low his forehead nearly hit the floor.
"What do you think?" Azula asked her servant.
Kota walked around her, eyes flitting up and down. "It's a good fit, Princess."
Katara stepped through the door from Azula's bedchamber. She was dressed and bathed; she'd drawn her hair back into a heavy braid. Azula studied the line of Katara's neck in appreciation. Even without makeup, wearing a casual tunic, she was beautiful and so very welcome. Azula might wonder if it was Katara's absence that made her such a fixation when she was here, but with every new day that passed Katara became a little more desirable.
She gave a perplexed smile now as she took in Azula's armor. Her eyes flashed as they met Azula's, and her smile softened into a tender expression that made Azula's chest feel light. How she could garner such a look, she still didn't understand.
The tailor glanced away from Katara with distinct embarrassment. Was it such common knowledge even in Capital City that Azula had a foreign female lover? Was this man embarrassed for her? Katara was not a dirty little secret, and it insulted both of them to consider her so.
"What's up with the armor?"
Azula's mind jerked to the present, and she lifted her eyes from the tailor to Katara. "I want to impress people," she said. She lifted her arms in a sweeping gesture. "Do I look impressive?"
"You'd look impressive wearing a potato sack, and you know it." Katara stepped close for a kiss.
Azula smirked as she reached out to wipe lip-stain she'd left on Katara's mouth. "Then I must look absolutely extraordinary in this."
Katara rolled her eyes. "Conceited more like," she muttered quietly. The tailor gulped audibly; at least he feared her. Katara continued, "Oh, you've got your swords. You should ask my brother if he wants to spar with you. You just have to promise not to 'relieve him of any vital appendages'." Katara had adopted the tone and cadence she used to mimic Azula's voice.
"I can think of a few appendages that aren't particularly vital."
Katara shook a finger at her. "I want to be an aunt so emasculating my brother is not allowed!"
Azula laughed and glanced at the tailor. "Your work is adequate. I'd like to commission another set like this for formal wear—incorporating the design of my weapons into the trim."
"The dragons?"
"No, the black stitching," she said sharply. What a pointless question. "Yes, the dragons."
The tailor trembled. "W-when would you like the new set ready, Princess?"
"Several weeks will suffice for the full set. I want the outer tunic no later than the end of the week."
He and his assistant bowed profusely as they left. Azula removed her swords and handed them to her majordomo. She motioned to Katara. "Dinner?"
Katara shot her a look to indicate she didn't approve of Azula's attitude towards the tailor, but she only said, "You're going to eat in that?"
Because it wasn't a denial, Azula resigned herself to supping with the visiting party. She offered Katara her arm as they made their way down the hall. "Do you think I'd actually spill food on my clothes?"
Katara teased her with a rude face, but she offered a smile and a squeeze after.
As it turned out, only Azula's family was at the table. Hopefully it meant this would be a quieter meal than breakfast, but with Ursa and Mai sharing a table there was always a chance of family drama. The four people at the table looked up at different times and studied her in curiosity.
Mai was the first to speak: "What the hell are you wearing?"
"Do you like it? This is what I'm going to wear to your wedding," Azula sniped. She traced her fingers over the hilt of her dragon dagger and ignored Iroh's resulting smile.
Mai's expression shifted from slightly perplexed to slightly irritated. Ursa meanwhile looked more than irritated, which didn't go unnoticed by Mai. It was probably why Mai replied, "Not the worst ever, I guess. I'm not sure it's safe for you to be armed during a public event though."
Azula settled at the table beside Katara. She pushed her allotted fruit dipping sauce towards Katara, who liked it a great deal more than Azula did. "I don't plan to kill Zuko, if that's what you're worried about. Though it would probably be the greater mercy."
"Oh, fuck you," Mai said without any heat. Ursa cleared her throat loudly. They both ignored her.
"You are always so dreadfully polite," Azula sniped back.
"Up yours."
"And so mature."
"Anyway, I was more worried about the other guests," Mai continued dryly. "You wouldn't kill Zuko; you don't want his job."
"True. But it would be amusing to watch the nobles squabble over the throne."
Ursa cleared her throat once again. Odd that she didn't chastise them for their 'inappropriate talk'. Something about talking about the death of a Fire Lord had always made Ursa uncomfortable. Azula doubted it was some long buried prick of conscience; Ursa's disapproval started long before she murdered Azulon. Ursa asked, "Why exactly do you think you need armor, Azula?"
"Everyone needs armor." She smirked at her mother. "I like to look impressive."
"Is there something I need to know?" Ursa asked sharply.
"I think you should let Azula be as she is," Iroh replied with a sigh. "There's nothing wrong with having a good set of armor in case it's needed. Though I'm uncertain as to why it's necessary to wear it to the dinner table."
"Azula's being Azula," Zuko said distractedly; his nose was buried in a scroll. Azula wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult. His words seemed to put Ursa at ease, and the comment drew a smile from Iroh so she made no reply.
After a moment, Ursa turned a question to Katara. She wasn't particularly warm, but she wasn't impolite. "Katara, I trust you slept well last night."
Under the table, Katara flicked Azula's leg. "Very well, thank you, Ursa."
Mai rolled her eyes.
"I missed you during my meditations this afternoon, Azula," Iroh said. He wiped his mustache and set his chopsticks on the table.
"I was indolent instead."
"I wouldn't say that." This time Katara laid her hand on Azula's thigh and squeezed. Azula's face went hot.
"Oh, gag me with a spoon," Mai muttered.
Zuko finally looked up from the scroll he'd been perusing. "And you complain about Mai and me."
Katara flushed and attempted to backtrack. "I meant that she was actually working this afternoon."
"Sure you did," Mai said dryly.
Azula took pity on her lover. "How unkind of you, Mai. All afternoon I slaved away drafting pleading letters endorsing your public school plan. Would you like to read the letters before they're sent?"
"Yeah. Thanks," Mai replied graciously. "Send them over whenever."
Zuko snorted. "Good luck getting the nobles to part with their money."
"If anyone can, Azula can. I've seen how persuasive she can be." Mai daintily sipped her tea. In her sleeve, Azula spied the flash of a dagger. For the second time that day, she was struck with nostalgia—an odd end to a rather satisfying day.
She would need to be in a much different mindset for the meeting later that night. This might be her last peaceful moment for quite a while.
-TBC-
AN: I want to thank everyone for reading/reviewing. I appreciate hearing your thoughts. I also posted a side-story to this one involving Toph in case you'd like to read that.