Chapter 6: Take pleasure where it's due
Azula sweltered beneath the heavy cloak that covered her head and her armor. If she could, she would have bent the heat from beneath her robes. Instead, she had to sweat. Around her, the Muma District pulsed in its own musky heat: sex and alcohol and debauchery. She stood in the shadows behind the sign that designated the street as 4th and waited.
It was an interesting experience to loiter in the night as a stranger to everyone.
A prostitute brushed along the wall beside her. It was difficult to tell if she was attractive under all that gaudy makeup. "My Lord." Her voice was as sultry as it could be for all the tobacco or opium she undoubtedly inhaled to roughen it so much. "We could slip away somewhere quiet and enjoy each other."
Very few prostitutes were in business for themselves. Azula guessed this woman was stiffing the government of taxes as an unregistered business. No doubt she didn't take the proper precautions with her clients. No doubt she was poor and desperate.
The woman drew closer. "Or I could give you a suck right here, under that cloak, my Lord." She must have caught sight of the shape of Azula's face beneath her hood because the prostitute drew back in surprise. "Oh, my Lady." Her grin stretched. At least she had all her teeth. "I could still give you a good suck."
"You couldn't handle me," Azula replied disdainfully. "Go away. If I need such services, I don't have to pay for them." Azula handed the woman three gold coins; it would be enough to feed her or her addiction for several weeks. "I was never here."
The woman bowed clumsily and backed away, the coins clutched in her fingers.
A few minutes later, several prostitutes swept by; their faces were painted in the traditional style of red on white. The tallest was lovely and doubtless expensive. Her head turned, and her bright golden eyes remained on Azula as she walked by. Instead of soliciting business, she rolled her head in an indolent bow and continued on unhurriedly. The others giggled amongst themselves, shooting sultry looks towards Azula. Perhaps they were going to a party to entertain some rich, pathetic noble.
Despite her general disdain for this district, Azula found it rather pretty. It was even more brightly lit than the royal district, and most of the people here laughed freely and held each other as they wandered through the streets. Her eyes followed a nobleman who was arm-in-arm with a laughing woman, and she was surprised to realize that the woman was his wife. Perhaps there were houses that catered to both sexes…or perhaps they preferred to share their sexual purchases.
She entertained the thought of bringing a willing Katara here, commanding the richest prostitute to fall to her knees before Katara and feast on her as Azula watched. Better yet, one of the noble daughters—prissy and entitled and racist—wide-eyed at her first lesbian encounter, kneeling between the legs of a waterbender. She would love it and be so ashamed of that fact. Azula clenched her fists and turned her thoughts away from that distraction. It would likely be fodder for thought on a lonely night when Katara was away at the South Pole.
For now, Azula had to keep her mind on business.
Eventually, a pretentious double-seated carriage drew up to the corner. Was this supposed to be surreptitious? The driver clambered off his seat and swept open the curtain on the back bench. Azula took a breath, collected herself, and slipped inside.
She brushed her hood off to study the interior. It was well kept, lavishly decorated—dragons and flames were carved into the wood, and the cushions were made from fine silk. There was a small silk covered window that connected the two chambers within the carriage that were otherwise divided by paper panels. Across the divide sat a man, judging by the hairless silhouette. The carriage began to move before the faint outline in front of Azula spoke. "At last we meet, Fire Lord."
She was not impressed, and she made sure he knew it. "This subterfuge is petty and childish. Do you actually think this ridiculous chain of events is somehow less noticeable than my proper visitation to a noble household?"
The silhouette flinched. When the man spoke, his voice trembled. "I can assure you, Princess, that we've put in a great deal of effort to keep our plans discreet."
"Black wax?" Azula asked quietly. "Black wax, like we're in a drama play? You and whoever you're planning with are pompous fools. I would be suicidal to accept your plan to oust my brother."
"Princess!" he gasped. "Our plans are detailed and—"
Azula tore through the curtain and wrenched the man through it by his collar. Her violence snapped several thin sections of wood and ripped half of the rice-paper divide. The man hung out of the torn divide by his shoulders, and he gaped up at her in terror.
He was bald and sweating, thin and ferrety. Lord Tazu, a powerful nobleman by his own right, though he preferred to invest his money in Earth Kingdom banks. He'd never served on a military campaign, and his daughters were flighty creatures—she remembered them from the academy—that were probably married off to the highest bidder as soon as they reached the minimum age.
"Tazu." She kept her voice silky and gentle but tightened her grip on his shoulder. "If everything that has come to pass is the result of your 'careful planning', I hate to think of what sort of assassination attempt you're planning for one of the most powerful firebenders on the planet."
He gaped. "My Lord!"
She was pleased by his shock and fear and that he'd reverted to a higher title for her by instinct. It was the sign of a naturally submissive man. This one she would be able to read like an open book and control with a twitch of her brow. She tightened her brow now, and his pupils dilated.
"I will meet you when I chose to do so, and it will be by invitation to tea. You will arrange discreetly for the coconspirators to meet with me face-to-face when I call on you. No more black wax. In fact, don't write me any more letters; if you send me one, I will forward it to the Fire Lord. Look for my letter in two days' time."
She paused on the way out of the carriage. "Your youngest daughter is a beautiful specimen. Present her to me during our next meeting."
His face flushed, and his nod looked like a seizure with the violence and speed at which he agreed. Tazu offered no protest that his daughter was married. Was she? Azula couldn't remember now. Either he was truly loyal or he simply didn't care about using his daughter like a pawn. She would bet on the latter.
She lifted her hood and rapped sharply on the roof of the carriage. It rolled to a stop, and she stepped out into the night.
Agni save her from these fools.
Katara rolled over in bed as Azula stepped into the bedchamber after a quick bath to wash the streets from her skin.
"Where were you?" Her words were more demand than question.
"Running an errand."
Katara sat up, and her tone took a sharp turn. "Azula! What kind of errand could you be running in the middle of the night in full armor?"
Azula belted her sleeping robe and sighed, sliding into bed. She reveled in Katara occupying her suite, but she didn't appreciate the fact she no longer had privacy. "I'm tired."
"And it'll probably only take a minute to explain what you were doing and why you were doing it."
Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's warm body and fitted them close together. The curtains stirred in the breeze, and the silk sheets were cool against her skin. She pressed her face into Katara's hair and enjoyed her presence. Katara knew how to be discreet, and Azula wasn't willing to sleep alone that night.
"Dissenters want to usurp Zuko. They contacted me, and I'm drawing out the trap. That's where I was." She squeezed Katara's hand to emphasize her next words. "I hope I don't have to tell you how important it is that this remains secret from everyone but Zuko and myself."
Katara's body stiffened. "That's dangerous. Do you need help?"
Azula ignored the question. "I have nothing to fear from silly nobles."
"Be careful." Katara's hand was tight against her own.
"You can be assured of that." Azula kissed her neck. "Can I sleep now?"
"Promise me, Azula."
She had to be careful not to sound patronizing. "I'll be careful."
Azula received an invitation from Iroh to take tea the following morning. He rarely sent her formal invitations so he had piqued her curiosity enough to accept. She nearly turned on her heel and left when she saw he had a Pai Sho board set up on the balcony of the suite he shared with Ursa.
It was one thing to attend tea with this man and converse about whatever whimsy philosophy he wished. It was another to deal with him playing this ridiculous game. Before she could retreat, he put his hand on her back and ushered her forward. "Come, come, sit down!"
She sat and grumbled, "I hate you."
Iroh poured her a cup of tea and grinned, laughing happily, no doubt at her. "I'd like to see your skills. Maybe your patience has improved since the last time we played. Perhaps we can actually finish this game."
"Pai Sho is a waste of time."
"Not a waste of time, child. It is a worthy venture, finding tranquility within oneself and turning it into positive energy in the world." Iroh sipped his tea and moved his first piece.
Azula leaned slovenly on one elbow and flicked a piece across the board with her index finger. She smarted at the term 'child'. "Blah blah blah blah blah."
Iroh hrmped, gently placing a piece. Azula considered the move briefly, trying to wrap her mind around what it would take to win. There was no way. She placed her own piece. "Tell me, what exactly ends a game that has no apparent way to win?"
"It's possible to win without actually beating your opponent," Iroh replied, placing a piece decisively.
"There are no rules!"
"But there is harmony."
"I can't believe you're my father," Azula muttered. Iroh hid his smile behind his teacup as she moved another piece randomly.
Iroh grunted. "As always, you prefer symmetry. There is a certain harmony to that, but it is too logical to be natural, Azula."
She couldn't even begin to understand that statement. "What could possibly be wrong with logic?"
"It binds you, limits your potential."
Azula stared at the board in disgust. She pointed out, "Logic exists because it is logical; it doesn't limit anything because all things fall within its rules. But by some crazy illogical chance that you're right, how would that help me win this stupid game?"
"Ah, the fun is in figuring that out."
"It's so arbitrary I'm beginning to think you made this entire game up as an insidious torture device." As she spoke, she reached out and sipped her tea for the first time. Azula swallowed it before the taste registered. She retched and dropped the teacup back on the table. Why had she not expected Iroh to use her as an experiment for a new tea? She stared into her teacup, stunned that such an innocuous looking liquid tasted so disgusting. "What is this?!"
Iroh considered her reaction mildly. "It's a new brew a friend shipped in from an eastern Earth Kingdom town. You don't like it?"
"It tastes like…" She considered the horrible aftertaste in her mouth. "Imagine the taste of the bathwater from a Fire Nation warship at the end of a month at sea. That is the taste currently in my mouth. People actually choose to drink this?"
Iroh frowned down at his cup. "How odd. Your mother described it as 'piss-tea'. I rather like the taste myself. I'll have to get your brother to try it; maybe it's a gender difference." At his gesture, a servant replaced Azula's teacup and filled it with a tea she actually enjoyed.
"Please wait until I'm present before you serve that vile drink to Zuko." She took a heavy swallow of the brew to wash the bad taste from her mouth.
Iroh grinned mischievously. "I suppose I can arrange that."
They exchanged a few more pieces before he said, "I thought I should warn you that your mother wants to have a private dinner with you and Katara."
Azula's teacup clattered onto the Pai Sho board; she was angry that she'd just betrayed herself with that slip. A private dinner? That boded any number of things and most of them weren't good. Ursa was tolerant at best of their relationship.
"Why?"
Iroh cleared his throat. "You've been together for several years now, have you not?"
"I have no idea why Mom has to have a private dinner to discuss what's common knowledge."
"Your mother wants to know if you're happy."
"It's a simple question; it doesn't require a long, drawn out dinner."
Iroh smiled at her gently. "Which is why I'm asking you: are you happy?"
"Yes." She was surprised by the answer that immediately sprang from her mouth. It felt like a self-betrayal.
Iroh reached across the table and patted her hand. "That is all I ask, daughter of mine."
It was still so strange to look at this man and conceptualize him as her father, but the thought had lost its sting. Whatever he saw in her face now made his smile soften. He cleared his throat and glanced down at the board. "Your turn."
They continued their game through another pot of tea before Ursa swept onto the balcony, clearly in distraction. She surveyed the Pai Sho table with raised eyebrows. "Oh, you poor girl," she told Azula, bending to kiss her cheek. "Did he make you try that awful tea too?"
"Azula described it as the taste of old bathwater from a Fire Nation warship," Iroh replied.
Ursa kept her hand on Azula's shoulder and watched them place a few pieces. Azula waited for her mother to snitch her sleeve ties, but the attack never came. Instead, Ursa asked, "Azula, can you do me a favor?"
"If that favor involves wedding decorations, no." She didn't bother to look up as she said it.
Ursa sighed; surprisingly, she gave up without protest. "I suppose I wouldn't want a giant gory dragon painting put up behind the wedding dais. Iroh, don't forget about your meeting with the Earth Kingdom ambassador."
Iroh was frowning intently at the Pai Sho board. "He can wait."
"Have fun then." Ursa bent to give him a kiss on his bald pate.
"Obviously I'm having the time of my life." Azula said sarcastically.
Ursa laughed as she swept off of the balcony with as much energy as she'd entered it. No doubt she heard Iroh place his last piece and say, "I win!"
At least Azula had come by her joy of winning honestly.
Several days later, Azula took a palanquin to Tazu's household for her first meeting with the self-proclaimed rebels. The servants waiting in Tazu's courtyard bowed deeply to her as she stepped out into the hot afternoon air. She wore slightly modified armor with an elegant silk over-tunic and formal swords that were more decoration than combat weapons. With her current garb, it was easy to take a breath of dignity and hold it within her to expand her presence.
Tazu stood in his courtyard, sweating in the afternoon sun. He was wearing his best silk, embroidered with thread that was probably made from actual gold. It didn't make him look any less like a ferret. He put one knee on the ground—covered with clean cloth in preparation for his prostration—and lowered his head. "Princess Azula, your visit is an incredible honor for my household."
"Get up," she muttered disdainfully, flicking her wrist. "Take me to them."
He wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and bowed twice more. "Forgive me for asking, Princess…" He stuttered when he saw her baleful look. "What excuse should I use when I'm asked why we meet?"
She curled her lip in disdain. "If you can't solve that problem without my input, I hardly have faith in your ability to plan a coup."
He gulped and bowed twice more. He was going to make himself dizzy. "My apologies, Princess, of course."
They walked through an elaborately decorated corridor and into a wide dining room that had been cleared for this meeting. There were two low tables at which some dozen men knelt; they faced the center of the room with their backs to the walls. Some men drank tea; some drank alcohol. It was a spacious enough room that their conversation was muted. Curtains had been arranged around a table at the head of the room—for her, no doubt.
"If we may eat first, Fire Lord," Tazu suggested, still pale from their last exchange.
Azula raised one eyebrow, glancing down at him. His throat bobbed. A servant rushed forward to arrange her spot at the small table at the head of the room. She ignored the food and motioned for the servant to taste her drink.
"You fear poison in this household, Princess?" one of the noblemen asked with a laugh.
He was young Lam, from a relatively new noble family that had seized its position in the wake of Ozai's appointment as Fire Lord. He wore his hair in a short topknot and was clean shaven in the newest fashion. This man was the eldest grandson of the Lam who had groveled in front of Ozai. Azula actually remembered that meeting from her childhood: Old Lam, bowed so low his knees pinched his wispy beard, shoulders trembling, gasping supplications in a musical, high tenor. And Ozai, his exact opposite, lording down upon the man from his orange-fire throne, voice dark and rough.
She lifted her eyes and met Lam's gaze dourly until he glanced away in discomfort.
After a few minutes, the servant had not died, and she deigned to sip her tea. Tazu cleared his throat, his finger darted, and a door to the room slid open. As Azula had commanded, Tazu's youngest daughter eased into the room. She wore a black silk dress with gold trim, and her black hair was a straight glossy curtain down her back. The woman stood by Azula's table and bowed, waiting.
Azula motioned.
Tazu's daughter gracefully took the seat next to Azula, her eyes downcast. The expression on her face ruined whatever humility she tried to communicate with her posture. She was pretty, surprisingly so coming from such a ferrety father. After seeing her face, Azula pinned down her memory of this girl who had shared her classes at the Royal Academy for Girls. Tazu's daughter was as vapid as she was silly.
"Laza, was it?"
"My Lord, I'm flattered you remember my name." She giggled behind her hand disgustingly. Her nails were unfashionably short, but they were polished red. Interesting.
"What I remember is that you incorrectly recalled my great-grandfather's conquest of Air Nomad forces during the twenty-third recorded pass of Sozin's Comet."
Laza's mouth closed, and she gave her first real expression: discomfiture. Azula had always taken some pleasure in upsetting pretty, soft girls. She continued, "I also remember you were lazy and unpracticed during your bending lessons at the academy, despite what seemed to be fair talent for it." It was a great waste that Azula could hate so easily.
Laza gathered herself, batting her eyelashes coyly. "My Lord. If I had realized I might vie for a place with you, I would have dedicated my life to those ventures you deem important." She punctuated her statement with a silly giggle.
Azula stared down her nose at the woman sitting next to her. "I'm sure," she replied contemptuously. She dismissed Laza from her mind and turned her thoughts to more important matters. She stood up and walked to the center of the room, her hands clasped behind her back. The men shifted to sit at attention.
"Whose idea was it to start this little rebellion?"
There was a quiet murmur. Tazu cleared his throat. "Fire Lord, it was a culmination of most of us in this room."
She walked slowly down one table then back along the other. She met the eyes of every man sitting in the room. As she did, she ticked off their names in her mind, tracing their histories. A few were affluent in Ozai's reign, several prominent from Azulon, and one was an old family that was at the height of their power during Sozin's reign. A few younger men were from trade families. She was certain that not one of these men had ever fought in a single battle. In moments like these, she wished Zuko hadn't abolished the law that had required men and women to serve in the military to earn the right to vote on political matters.
"Who was in charge of sending me the letters?"
One of the youngest men stood up and spoke; his voice was loud, but he stuttered in nervousness. "It was I, Princess."
She flicked her eyes up and down his body. He was the youngest Lam grandchild, she realized. He was more handsome than his elder brother though he was also clean shaven with a short topknot. Maybe he was easier to look at because he had a childish guilelessness about him instead of his older brother's slimy condescension. He would serve her purposes well and maybe live to thank her later.
"And you decided to use black wax?"
His amber eyes were wide with earnestness. "Yes, my Lord."
"This is my first lesson of the day."
Azula rocked forward on the ball of her left foot and hit him across the jaw. He went down, and she stepped over the table to follow him to the floor, landing blow after blow until his face was a mess of blood and he no longer raised his hands to protect himself.
If the boy had been as condescending as his older brother, she would have killed him instead.
He gave a low moan as she stood. She shook her hands. She'd cut one knuckle on his teeth, and several others had lost skin. The entire room was eerily silent—the elder Lam brother was pale but otherwise unaffected—as she walked over to the washbasin and dipped her hands in rose water. A servant—his head level with his crotch—cowered in his bow, offering a towel. She wiped her hands dry, frowning at the bruises on her knuckles and the streak of blood she left on the white towel.
Her voice was calm. "Fire Nation is two words, not one; Fire Lord is also two words, not one. Get him out of my sight. When he wakes up, tell him I don't want to see his face again."
Two servants quickly pulled the beaten boy out of the room.
She walked back to the middle of the room and turned on one heel, surveying the shock on the faces of the men around her. They hadn't expected her violence; they hadn't expected her dominance. Now they would know that her threats weren't empty.
"I should expose you to my brother and have you all hanged like thieves. Your incompetence so far has me shocked you have not already been discovered.
"My second lesson, men: black wax on a sealed scroll sent to me by an anonymous noble servant. Black wax sealing a scroll sent to me at the Royal Palace. Do you think no servants whispered to each other about what an unsigned, black wax sealed letter was doing coming to me? Those servants are my brother's. Do you think he doesn't know I received that scroll? Just when I gained his trust, you may well have compromised what took years to achieve.
"Why did none of you incompetent fools consider it was far less likely to draw attention with an invitation to take tea and meet your daughters or sisters? Why not ask your daughters or sisters—who doubtlessly attended Royal Academy with me—to invite me for an afternoon meeting? How stupid are you fools?"
Tazu quailed. "My Lord—"
"Not a word!" she commanded. "You asked me here, but make no mistake. I am here not by your request. I am here because I decided I am ready to lead this coup. I am in charge. We will meet discreetly, at a time I choose, and we will discuss what I deem is important. Is that clear?"
Tazu fell prostrate; beside him, his daughter gave a more graceful bow. The other men in the room were more reserved, but they slid forward into full seated bows. Lam, however, snorted disdainfully. He looked away from where the servants had pulled his groaning younger brother from the room and met her eyes. "What can you do against us, Lady?"
Azula bared her teeth in a fierce smile. She crouched to face him and reached out to chuck his chin, drawing an unconscious flinch then an outraged stare. She seized his jaw in her hand and yanked his head up so he would look in her eyes.
"I'm glad you asked, Lam. Now that I know all of you, I can so easily give you to my brother and advance my own place within his household. I will do that if I have one doubt about the viability of the planned coup." She heaved a sigh and adopted a wistful tone, yanking Lam's head sideways with her gesture. "Or I could just take your necks from your shoulders and present your heads to him. Right now, I'm more inclined to the latter option."
She patted his cheek as his proud eyes lowered in submission. Slowly, Lam settled into a bow in front of her. Azula smiled wickedly. "So I would suggest you do everything in your power to make sure this plot works. Good day, noblemen."
It was a lovely evening. Rare soft clouds overshadowed the bright evening sun, and a cool breeze swept up from the far bay to flow over her private balcony. Azula considered the line of buildings that radiated out from the palace walls. This was her capital; this was her kingdom. Yet she couldn't protect it.
No flames. No rule.
Katara's fingertips brushed her ear. Azula turned her head, but Katara only met her eyes with a soft smile. Katara asked her, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose that's what's wrong. I'm inherently confused by the lack of melodramatic conflict in my life."
"That…thing you're doing sounds like conflict."
She appreciated that Katara was discreet. "Internal conflict," Azula specified, serious despite herself. "I just wish…"
She stopped herself from what she'd been about to say.
"Just wish what?"
Azula shook her head, vaguely imagining the ocean that existed beyond the great crater of the city and the lands beyond that. She imagined Katara without obligations outside of the Fire Nation, a child begot between them. She imagined herself commanding blue flames again, sitting on the throne. And with a mental scoff, she pictured a great blue dragon flying about with a purple platypus bear perched on its back.
She was disgustingly maudlin, dreaming about impossibilities. She explained it with a common idiom: "I'm only chasing dragons." She studied Katara for a moment, trying to etch into her memory the curve of her cheek and the line of her brow. Katara had just arrived, and already Azula worried about when she would leave again. "How long can you stay?"
"Six more weeks. Maybe a few more."
She'd be gone far longer than she would be here, with Azula. Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Katara looked at her in evident disappointment. It wasn't the first time this had been a conflict between them. Her voice reflected that when she said, "I have to go back, Azula. You know that."
Azula got up with the intention of walking away. She couldn't have this discussion again, not when it was like talking to a wall...not when she knew she risked losing Katara if she demanded her to stay.
Katara snatched at her hand and gasped in alarm. "What happened to you?" She was staring at Azula's bruised and cut knuckles.
"Subterfuge isn't all fun and games."
"Did you hurt someone?"
The sharp accusation in Katara's blue eyes startled Azula. She supposed she should have been complimented that Katara would assume she would be the one to bring pain, not take it. Instead, she was defensive. "Life isn't black and white, Katara. I may have saved a boy's life today with the violence you so disdain."
"There are always other ways!"
"Save me your morality lesson," Azula snapped, turning away.
"Where are you going?!"
"The archives."
Katara got to her feet and stomped after Azula. "You can't just run away whenever something happens that you don't like! I'm different from you. I have a life at the South Pole. I teach there; I have friends there. My family's there. They need me! You're the only reason I'm here at all!"
Azula stopped within their suite, surprised the argument had gone back on its first thread. If Katara insisted on a fight, she would be damned if they would go out in the hallway for all the servants to hear.
She still smarted over the insult she'd taken from Katara's condescending view of her morality, and her voice reflected that. "If it's such a burden, then go back to your Avatar or find some nice pacifist Water Tribe girl to make a life with on that frozen iceberg."
Katara reeled back as if she'd been slapped. "Is that what you want?"
"You don't seem to particularly care about what I want."
Now came the anger. Katara's eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and she was absolutely beautiful even as she stirred up Azula's temper like no one else could. Katara's voice raised into a shout. "I don't care?! How dare you! I take time out of my life to be with you, and when I do, I have to put up with people acting like I'm some dirty little secret. Like I'm some kind of whore!"
And just like that Azula was stunned into a full stop. Her anger bled from her when she processed what Katara had said. This she hadn't expected, not at all. "When have you ever given a thought to the ignorance of other people?"
The line of Katara's shoulders softened at Azula's tone, but her voice was still flavored by anger. "I know it's not true, but they don't. I can't keep doing this. I feel like I'm doing something wrong every time someone sees us together. It makes me feel like a slave." She shook her head and repeated, "I can't keep doing this."
Those words sapped every bit of anger Azula had drawn around herself in self-defense. This was an ultimatum, wasn't it? Her next question slipped out without thought, and her voice was flat on delivery. "Are you leaving me then?"
"I just want people to stop thinking I'm something you're ashamed of." Katara's expression softened yet she looked stricken.
Azula didn't know how to interpret that look. Her legs turned to water, and she sat down on the bed and tried to grasp a way to right this wrong. "Then you want a consortium? I didn't think…"
"Didn't think what?" Katara asked as she sat down beside Azula.
"I didn't think you would want that." She'd assumed any gesture of possession would be taken as an insult. A consortium was ownership in a way, and Katara had peculiar pride. She said, "I can do that…if it's something that you want."
"What do you want?"
It made her angry that Katara had to ask. "I want you!"
Katara studied her soberly and then offered up her tender smile and soothing touch. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound like I was going to break up with you. It just... It bothers me a lot even thought I know it shouldn't." She took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry about what I said about…violence."
Azula gave a half-shrug, knowing that halfhearted attempt was the only apology she would get. Katara still thought she was right in every situation. It was a part of her that Azula put up with because she would never have wanted it to change. Though she wasn't ready to forgive the insult, she was too busy fighting her relief to focus on it. "I was high-handed myself."
"You're always high-handed," Katara said not unkindly. She sighed and rubbed Azula's shoulder. "Azula, I can't live here. I just can't. Even if I'm your consort…whatever that is."
Azula put her face in her hand, vacillating between wanting to be sick and feeling immense relief. She had to be sure: "You're not leaving me?"
Katara's grip on her shoulder tightened. "No. I love you. I want to be with you." Her voice sharpened. "But I don't ever want to hear you accuse me of wanting to be with someone else because I can't live here."
"I was angry," Azula said in apology. She looked at Katara now and wondered how this woman could ever think she was less in any way. "You're better than any of them, Katara. They aren't worth your notice or a single thought."
"I'm not like you, Azula. I can't just turn off my feelings about things."
Azula looked down at the split knuckles that had started this whole argument. "I can arrange the documentation tomorrow morning."
"Is there a ceremony to this consortium thing?"
"Thankfully not," Azula muttered, imagining how horrible Ursa would be in that situation.
Katara settled closer and took her hand; Azula threaded their fingers together. Katara's voice seemed so soft after the anger that had colored it only minutes before. "Explain to me what exactly a consortium is."
"It's a legality. Planning a marriage can take years in this country. In the meantime, the consorts we of the royal family take will be protected. Any children born will be official heirs; if the Fire Lord decides to take another wife, he will have to pay a minimum for his consort's living expenses for her natural lifetime. If the Fire Lord dies before he can marry his consort—or if he never does—she's owed a minimum from the will of the Fire Lord." As she spoke, her voice gained strength and began to sound normal again.
"That's pretty progressive. But I don't need your money."
Azula ignored the last statement. "The second female Fire Lord, Yuza, put that into iron-law. It's considered a human right and cannot be removed or amended from our constitution."
Katara raised her eyebrows. Azula smiled at her ruefully. "Yuza was considered the illegitimate child of the Fire Lord even though she was his only child and also born from the only woman he ever shared his bed with. A distant cousin ascended to the throne by law, and she was forced to challenge him to Agni Kai and kill him to make her own bid.
"In her long rule, she managed to retake all the northeastern islands that were lost to the Northern Water Tribe for over a century in a military victory enabled in part by her brilliant trade war, but all anyone remembers her by is the consort-proclamation."
"Thanks for the history lesson," Katara said with a small teasing smile. "So a consortium is basically a marriage."
"Without the giant feast and decorations and day-long ceremony." Why was she skirting the truth? How ridiculous that this woman could make her so frightened. Azula took the figurative dragon by the horns and spelled out the truth. "In the eyes of the law, a consort is a spouse. You would have every legal right and status as my consort that you would have if we married."
"Do you want me to be your consort?"
"Yes." She gave away a little bit of herself with that word. She wondered if Katara knew that.
Katara sat still for a long moment and looked out the balcony; Azula waited for her answer. When Katara finally nodded, she did so firmly. She met Azula's eyes and said, "Okay. Yes. I'll be your consort."
Azula's chest shuddered with her uncontrollable sigh. She hadn't realized until then that she'd been holding her breath. Katara cupped her cheek, smiled so softly, and kissed her gently. Azula gathered herself after a moment and managed to swallow the betraying tears that had risen to her eyes.
In times like these, she knew it was best to say: "I'm sorry we fought."
Katara's response surprised her; she smiled and shook her head. "No you aren't. I'm not either. I like fighting with you. We seem to solve a lot of problems that way. Sometimes it's even fun."
"It wasn't fun this time."
"No, it wasn't." Katara stroked her cheek and kissed her again. Her eyes flashed in humor. "You know, a fortune teller once told me I'd marry a powerful bender. I'm starting to think she was the real thing."
It was a sharp, bitter pain. But Azula smiled through it and thought only of the woman she'd just kept, not the bending she no longer commanded.
"I'm tired of being cooped up here," Katara complained the next afternoon. She said it even though she'd been out that morning to check on the pregnancy of a noblewoman in the city. They shared tea now on the communal balcony over Mai's garden, enjoying the sound of the lavish fountain there.
"There's a play on." Azula glanced up from her reading with an internal wince at how inane her statement had been. Clearly this is what Katara was fishing for, but she still couldn't believe she'd said something that sounded so like Ursa.
She still reveled in relief from the day before and was fiercely triumphant about their signatures on the consortium license Kota was delivering to the Fire Sages now. In this moment, she was also glad she'd had the foresight to reserve a box at the theater for the next few weeks in case Katara wanted to go. They'd never attended a play in Capital City, but on Ember Island they went at least once every few weeks.
"What is it?"
She hummed and flicked her fingernails against each other. "Unfortunately, it's actually a good production. A traditional music-theater piece about a warrior who must choose between his country and his family."
Katara's curiosity was piqued. "Tragedy?"
"A play about choosing family or the Fire Lord? You can expect buckets of tears, long tortured soliloquies, and the death of every major protagonist."
That earned a smile. Katara leaned against her hand and directed that smile at Azula. Her wild hair tumbled over her shoulders in a desperately pretty display. "Is it a formal thing?"
"It can be." Azula sipped her tea even though it had gone cool in the cup.
Katara gently nudged Azula's leg with her foot. "What should we wear?"
"Anything," Azula replied lightly. "You should realize by now that I can wear whatever I want and no one will think it's wrong. I could show up to a nobleman's birthday celebration in funeral clothes, and it would just become the next fashion."
Katara took a patented patronizing tone, warning irritation. "And you should know by now that I'm actually asking what everyone else will be wearing."
"Formal evening wear."
"Then let's dress up."
She didn't have to sound so pleased at the thought. Not that Azula would pass up an opportunity to see Katara in nice clothing. "Shall we do dinner before? I've never eaten at one of the commercial kitchens in this district."
Katara raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you planned for this."
"Then I'm exceeding grateful that you know me so well."
Azula stood up and stretched, imaging their evening. She would take Katara out, as her consort. Katara was Azula's consort. The possessiveness she felt at that self-satisfied thought would probably anger her lover so Azula held it inside herself for her own comfort. No doubt it would be an interesting outing.
Katara got up behind her and pulled her into a loose hug. They kissed, and Azula deepened their kiss.
"Gross. I should not have to see your tongue down my sister's throat."
Katara pulled back from the kiss, but she kept her arms around Azula's shoulders. They both faced Sokka, who thankfully was alone. Or rather, the Avatar was striding down the corridor in the opposite direction. Sokka appeared unconcerned. He grinned as Katara retorted, "I've seen you having sex with Suki. You want to talk about stuff you don't need to see your sibling do?"
He shrugged. "That's why you knock."
Katara faced Azula as she stroked her fingertips across the nape of Azula's neck and curled them gently through her ponytail. Azula hoped that Sokka couldn't tell how much the touch was affecting her. Katara spoke to her. "I don't know why I have to knock when I'm walking out of the house."
Sokka replied with a grin and a big shrug. "What can I say? I'm a versatile man."
"At the South Pole?" Azula was startled at the thought.
Sokka and Katara burst into laughter. "No, Kyoshi Island, doofus," Katara finally gasped.
She didn't know when this had happened. Katara would be angry if Azula was jealous over the time she spent visiting her brother. She took a breath and let it go. Azula patted Katara's hip and released her, remembering Katara's earlier request. She spoke to Sokka. "Your sister tells me you're a swordsman. Would you like to spar?"
Soka frowned. "Just so you know, if you maim me Katara will totally break up with you. And if you kill me. You know that, right?"
"I'm quite aware. At least until you father a few children."
"That's not much incentive to have kids," Sokka muttered.
Katara was quick to retort, "Like you need incentive to fall into bed with Suki."
Sokka turned to Azula and spoke behind his hand in a faux whisper. "Aren't you lucky it runs in the family? Yeow!" He stepped away from Katara before she could smack him again. "Just let me know when you want me to give you a few pointers about thrusting a sword—Ow! Okay, I swear I didn't mean that like it sounded."
Katara raised a threatening fist, and Sokka took off down the hall at a run. Azula sighed as she watched her lover…consort race after him. Their laughter echoed down a corridor that had seen precious little of any kind of happiness in the years of Azula's childhood. She liked it better now.
Katara refused to let Azula see her before she'd dressed. Silly, but Azula didn't mind humoring her wishes.
Azula's servants dressed her in a new fashion she'd in part started: trousers and an embroidered silk tabard tunic. There was no heavy shouldered cloak of the older style, making it lighter and far more comfortable. She'd worn such a thing at Ember Island for years and was surprised when it became fashionable throughout Capital Island. Of course, the nobles added embroidery on fine silk to dress it up.
Azula accepted the hairpiece in her half topknot and slipped her feet into her pointed-toed boots and waited. "The restaurant knows we're coming?"
"Yes, Princess."
Azula glanced over at Kota. "We're to have a private room."
"It's been arranged."
"And a carriage."
"No carriage. I want to walk." After her demand, Katara stepped into the room. Azula turned to retort and stilled. Katara wore a red silk dress, and her hair was up in a full topknot with a traditional woman's hairpiece. Azula wasn't sure how she'd tamed her wavy hair so well. Somehow the Fire Nation style only enhanced her exoticism, especially with her ever-present Water Tribe betrothal necklace. She looked lovely.
Katara cocked her head. "Do I pass?"
Azula reached out and took her arm. There was no use in being coy. "You look exquisite."
Her compliment coaxed a blush and shy smile. Azula drew her close and kissed her, delighted she could still evoke that response. She couldn't wait until they came back tonight and she could strip Katara out of these clothes, that hairpiece, and find the woman she knew was underneath. Katara pulled away a laugh. "Don't ruin my makeup! Come on. Let's go before you change your mind."
The restaurant and theater were only a few blocks away from the palace. The walk was pleasant despite the heat. There were few pedestrians on the road that flanked the royal palace. Curtains stirred on the palanquins and carriages that went by, hiding curious eyes. Even with the more lax formalities of Zuko's reign, it was rare that a member of the royal family walked anywhere in public.
"I feel like we're being stared at," Katara said after a moment.
"We are."
"I don't know how you stand it all the time."
"I don't know anything else. This is why I generally prefer the palanquin or carriage to travel."
Katara squeezed her hand. "Thanks for humoring me. I didn't realize it would be that much different here than on Ember Island."
"It's a short walk," Azula replied lightly. She changed the subject, watching an alley cat run across the street. "Tonk brought me the back end of an elephant rat a few weeks ago. She only left a pile of feathers from a booby for Mom to see during her visit, unfortunately. It's such a fascinating process watching her consume a rodent whole, bit by bit, and Mom missed out."
"I'm surprised she hunts at all. You keep food down all the time."
"She's turned out to be a vicious little hunter. Lethal and self-sufficient."
"Who sleeps on your bed and sits in your lap and licks your toes."
"I thought we agreed not to talk about her unfortunate licking habit."
Katara giggled. "I never said I wouldn't talk about it. I don't know if it's funnier that she licks your toes or that you let her do it."
"Hush." Azula gently squeezed Katara's arm.
Katara cocked her head and shot Azula an insolent look. "Make me."
"It wouldn't do to be seen beating my consort in public on our first outing," Azula replied lightly. Katara laughed and twined their arms together, bumping hips with Azula. Azula had never quite figured out how her dry sarcasm was so amusing; nevertheless, she was pleased by Katara's merriment.
The restaurant interior was softly lit, and the scent of food drafted through the air. It was odd to Azula; it smelled like the royal kitchens, yet it was a formal dining room. There were also many different self-contained groups of people arranged around tables in various stages of their meals.
Eyes turned towards them as they were led across the dining room to a private hallway by staff. Azula heard a quiet venomous whisper as they passed one particular table: "I didn't expect the Princess to bring her concubine out in public."
They settled next to each other at the table in their private room, and the server poured them a sample of wine. Azula watched Katara taste it, and at Katara's surprised smile, she signaled for a bottle and reached for her own tea cup.
She wondered if Katara had heard that noblewoman. It was doubtful; Katara was always ready and willing to respond to racism in any form under any circumstance. By now she would know the word 'concubine' was the same as 'whore' in the noble world. The noblewoman's words shouldn't have mattered now, especially not if Katara hadn't heard them, but the smugness of that whisper itched at the back of Azula's neck, exacerbating the low burn in her chest. So much for Katara's claim that Azula could turn off her emotions.
After they finished the first dish, Azula placed a kiss to Katara's neck. "I need to use the facilities."
"I'm a little surprised you'd pee in someone else's lavatory," Katara said snidely, her softly painted lips turned up in a grin.
Azula adopted a dignified tone. "I do not 'pee'. I 'relieve myself'. And do you think there were lavatories in the Earth Kingdom wilds? If the facilities here are worse than the bush, then I will personally shut down this restaurant."
"Go." Katara waved her away with a laugh.
Azula slipped out of the room and down the short hallway into the dining room. Her eyes found the table that the offending statement had been hissed from. Azula knew each of the three women sitting there from Royal Academy. They'd shared several classes because Azula had sat in advanced classes usually reserved for older students.
She walked to the low table where that recognizable voice now spoke. Fala was this woman's given name; she was married to a well-to-do nobleman. No children had resulted as of yet. She and her husband were politically ambitious—and she'd just committed political suicide.
Azula sat down next to the woman and slid so close their hips touched. Fala turned, her expression outraged. She froze when she saw who was sitting beside her. Azula dropped one arm over the woman's shoulder and drew her close. She cupped the front of Fala's neck in gentle warning, then met and held Fala's gaze in an expressionless stare.
"I've always found it so fascinating that you nobles whisper just loud enough for everyone to hear your insults. Maybe because you feel you're above reproach?"
Fala swallowed thickly against her hand. Azula tightened her grip and gave her a sinister smile even as she kept her voice sweet. "You seem to have forgotten who I am so here's a lesson.
"I am and always will be above you. My consort is and always will be above you." She lowered her head to meet the noblewoman's eyes again. Fala's expression stretched in horror when Azula used the word 'consort'. The legality of her claim was deliciously satisfying.
"If I ever hear another disrespectful word from you, Fala, daughter of Jin, I will take your tongue, which is a gentle punishment when I can legally take your life. Do you understand me?"
Fala nodded weakly, shaking under Azula's arm. Azula flicked her eyes up at the other women, both of whom were white in the face. They immediately lowered their heads in submissive bows. "I know you, Tani and Kaila, and I will remember this slight on my honor. I suggest you find a better friend in the future."
Azula stood, flicking her eyes around the deathly silent dining room. Those who dined didn't disguise their eavesdropping. They all lowered their faces in seated bows as Azula swept between them and stepped down the hallway to her private room.
Katara glanced up at her when she sat down in their private room again. "How were the facilities?"
"Passable."
The rest of dinner was pleasant. Private dining was conducive to a few activities—rather extensive necking—that would not have been permissible during a family dinner. Azula wondered what she might get away with during the play, especially when Katara polished off the entire bottle of wine by herself.
Because of that, they took a carriage to the theater. Katara wasn't unsteady, but she didn't protest as Azula helped her up into the carriage. Katara swept open the curtains to watch the lights of the city as she settled against Azula's side.
The theater had a private entrance for nobles and royalty, but it was mostly patronized by commoners—who could and did own homes in Capital City now—who purchased the relatively cheap floor seats. They'd been to enough of these on Ember Island that Azula knew Katara would want to walk into the common entrance.
Eyes followed them. The few nobles in the crowded entrance knew better than to stare outright, but the lower class didn't disguise their curiosity. At least they knew enough to fear her. Immediately, two theater employees flanked Azula and Katara and led them through the throng of people loitering before the start of the play.
Once they were seated in their private box, a server brought them bubbly white wine and a platter of small sweets. Azula declined the alcohol and requested fruit juice. Katara giggled at her fizzing drink; she watched the bubbles ascend the side of the clear glass of her cup. "How do they get the bubbles in it?"
Azula wondered if Katara was imagining how to bend them in. She wrapped her fingers around Katara's hand, gently rubbed Katara's thumb with her own, and tilted the glass just slightly to look at it. She drew into memory what she'd read about the process once. "The grapes are fermented twice. The second fermentation is the addition of yeast and rock sugar, which release and dissolve the gas into the wine. When the cork is opened, the gas is released in bubbles."
"How long does that take?"
Azula recalled the scroll she had read on the process and tried to remember any numbers written. "A few years, but I'm not certain."
"How do you know so many random things?" Katara pulled her hand free to sip her drink.
"I read."
"I know you read, dork." Katara kissed her cheek. "But how do you remember it all?"
Azula cocked her head, uncertain what Katara was asking and distracted by the scent of her lover. She shifted her arm across Katara's back and fingered the cloth at Katara's hip. "I read it."
"You remember everything you read?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
Katara laughed for some reason. Azula swept her fingers in a slightly larger caress, but Katara wiggled. "Stop," she whispered, without any vitriol in her voice. On the contrary, she sounded pleased.
Azula turned her head and spoke in Katara's ear. "You don't think it's exciting? The thought of public sex? No one will hear you or see you up here. Even if they did, they wouldn't dare say a word."
"You're bad," Katara whispered. She let go of her stilling grip on Azula's fingers and continued, "I want to actually watch this play."
"It won't be nearly as entertaining."
She abruptly realized teasing Katara like this might not be a good idea after the subject of their argument the day before. Katara didn't seem to draw the connection, but Azula wasn't going to risk upsetting what had been a lovely evening so far. She dropped a kiss to Katara's neck and returned her hand to an appropriate place. She did quietly say, "I can't wait to fuck you tonight."
Katara leaned back; her expression indicated she was humoring Azula. "Sure you will, baby. Right after I fuck you." Katara furrowed her brow and gave a curious smile. "What's got you all worked up?"
"I was down at Muma District the other day, and I had the most delicious thought of hiring one of those prostitutes to service you. Can you imagine it?" She turned her head so she could speak directly into Katara's ear. "I'd order her to devour you, to fuck you, and she would do it. And I would watch her doing it to you."
"We are not hiring a prostitute," Katara said, though she'd shivered at Azula's suggestion. "I like the ordering part of it. But I'm going to be the one doing it, Princess. I'll be commanding you."
Azula felt her face heat at the tempting scenario. She'd been in a sexual relationship with Katara long enough to know what they both enjoyed in bed without being embarrassed by it. Katara batted her eyelashes innocently even as her fingers traced along the inside of Azula's thigh. "You'll just have to think about that until we get back."
Despite Katara's words, their mood degenerated into silliness quickly. Katara was tipsy, and Azula was amused enough to humor that. The musical was in the ancient traditional and dead Fire Nation language, and Katara asked Azula to translate.
She could have made it sexy or romantic—or been accurate about the tragic melodramatic lines—but with Katara as giggly as she was, Azula flat out lied, creating a scenario that the main conflict of the play involved the particular flatulent habits of the protagonist's family. Of course, the Fire Lord had much more impressive farts, said when the Fire Lord on stage bent fire in a pretty display.
Katara was laughing when most of the other women in the audience were crying. "You're better than the Ember Island Players."
"The indignity of that suggestion!" Azula gasped. "I resent those horrible words."
"You," Katara said with a smile, "Are being very melodramatic."
Azula shared her laughter.
When the server offered another glass of wine, Katara declined. She turned her face into Azula's neck and kissed her there. "I want to be able to perform tonight."
"You're already drunk, darling," Azula replied lightly.
Katara offered a shy smile at her endearment. "Do you mind? You never drink."
"I don't mind." Azula pulled her closer. "Enjoy yourself."
By the time they returned to the palace, Katara was clearly sleepy. She didn't even protest when the servants stripped their clothes off. Katara was pliable and relaxed as she slid into bed, and she beckoned Azula softly. Azula settled over her lover, kissing her gently. "You talk a big game," she whispered into Katara's ear, her fingers already finding exactly what she wanted.
Katara had no reply in words, but she responded with her body and her low moan. She was rarely this pliant in bed, and Azula was determined to enjoy her in full. It was going to be a good end to the night.
-TBC-