Chapter 7: All actions must have opposing reactions
"Have a good night last night?"
Azula reclined in a dusty chair and put her feet on Zuko's desk. She pinched her lips and glared at the heel of her shoe, which she'd set in a still-wet ink spill. That stain was never going to come out. "You're such a pig, Zuzu."
"Not my fault you decided to put your feet up on my desk," he retorted. He was in his official Fire Lord robes, and his hair was neatly arranged. He ruined the powerful effect of his attire when he slumped into a chair in their 'secret' room and proceeded to put his feet on his desk too. "What's going on with the rebels?"
Azula scoffed at the thought, remembering ferrety Tazu, entitled Lam, and Tazu's equally stupid daughter Laza. "'Rebels'? They're a bunch of whining children. Not one of them has ever seen the battlefield."
"So you've met them." Zuko glanced at her knuckles, which were still scabbed and bruised. Katara had pointedly not offered to heal them. "And hit someone pretty hard."
"One of the idiot Lam grandsons...whose life I probably saved."
"If he was planning—"
"He's younger than I am and an absolute moron—which stretches my imagination because he's entitled to a high level of stupidity just for being a nobleman. He was likely drawn into this by his older brother. If he doesn't make another appearance, I suggest you not pursue him. His family will support you to save face when you execute one son for treason. If you execute both sons, they will turn against you."
Zuko frowned, his arms folded. "Fine. If he's out I won't pursue it. But I want you to make sure he stays loyal."
"Me?" Like she had time to babysit.
"You heard me. It's not like you're going to be doing anything else."
"Aside from putting down a rebellion."
Zuko rolled his eyes and flicked an old writing brush at her. She batted it down with a sneer as he said, "It's not like it would kill you to sit in on a trade meeting. Or take my place in meetings with the Water Tribe ambassador."
Azula fingered the name Zuko had carved into the arm of her chair. How childish. She reached out and for the carving knife on Zuko's desk. "No. How far do you want me to draw this rebellion out? I know all of them; I'll forward my notes once I've organized them."
Zuko's mouth tightened. "I could have them arrested now."
"Yet you don't seem to want to."
"What would you do if you were me?"
As she considered her answer, she carved two strokes through the 'ko' symbol in the arm of her chair, rendering it a 'zu'. She gestured with the knife. "With the current political climate…your nobles need a reminder that you're their Fire Lord. I'd let these dissenters come. I'd make them do it at a public event. And then I'd crush them in view of the entire nation."
Zuko slowly nodded. "Maybe my wedding."
It was gutsy. Azula liked it. Zuko judged her reaction, and he grinned slowly, mirroring Azula's expression. He leaned back and changed the subject. "Speaking of weddings… I hear I should congratulate you."
"News travels quickly."
"You said the word 'consort' in public and couldn't keep your hands off of Katara all night. Obviously there's going to be some rumors flying around after that." Zuko shook his head. "I would have never guessed it during the war."
"Imagine my surprise," Azula replied.
"Mom's not too happy."
"And that certainly doesn't surprise me."
Zuko's smile was sympathetic; he'd been dealing with Ursa's disapproval of his consort and soon-to-be wife for years. "Are you going to start planning a wedding?"
The very idea provoked a shudder. "Absolutely not. Katara's welcome to it, if she wants to deal with the giant headache otherwise known as our mother."
"You love her," Zuko accused her.
Azula shrugged and stood. She stretched lazily. "I'm going to arrange a meeting with the 'rebels' and begin hatching our plans for murdering you at your very public wedding. No doubt they'll think it's an excellent idea."
"Have fun."
There was no doubt about that.
The letter arranging said meeting with Tazu and his cohorts was in Kota's hands by the late afternoon. As soon as her servant had left the room, Azula turned towards the man who lurked silently behind the heavy drapes in the corner of her study. She had known he was there since she sat down several hours before, and she guessed his identity with a rush of heady pleasure.
Now she commanded, "Announce yourself."
The man brushed the drapes aside, looked her in the eye for a long moment, then went on one proud knee. "As you have commanded, I am here, Princess."
"Alone?"
"No, Princess. I command twenty-two men who are yours, here to serve your wishes."
If it was true, it pleased her immensely. She leaned back in her chair and studied the dust on his cloak, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sturdiness of his stance. Kota stepped back into the room and started at the sight of him. She looked to Azula in alarm but was composed enough not to cry out.
"This is my bodyservant, Kota. Her eyes and ears are mine."
His eyes flicked up to study Kota's face; Kota looked back at him sharply. He intoned, "Yes, Princess."
Azula motioned to Kota. "A chair for my guest." She addressed the man as he stood. "You've come just in time. There's much to be done."
Sokka was half an hour late to Azula's summons for their sparring session. She used the time waiting for him to complete deep breathing meditations. These exercises were the foundation of firebending; fire was breath as much as it was chi. Her lungs were as full and strong as they'd been during the war, and her heart pumped in a slow steady beat that all master firebenders hoped to attain. She was an empty vessel: primed but lacking fuel for her fires.
She took a breath and considered the cycle of techniques she would repeat again after her last futile attempts: meditating on a lit candle as it burned down its wick; attempting to heatbend from the natural warmth produced by her diaphragm; sitting in the sun all day and concentrating on its energy, heat, and light as it arced across the sky.
She saw fire every day. Every flame in every room drew her attention. The flicker and flutter, the hot burn…it was second nature to her. She knew fire better than she knew herself. Yet it remained elusive.
She'd not lied to Iroh: she was happy with her life. She just wasn't happy with herself. Her failure to firebend was insult to injury; it was a bitter, heady reminder of her conduct on the day of Sozin's Comet. If she could regain her fire, she might finally be able to forgive herself for her deplorable weakness that day.
Azula realized she'd lost track of her breathing. She'd been meditating on her bitter emotions instead. She took a deep breath from her belly, gathered all her anger and disappointment, and she pushed it out with her breath. She did it again, and the ball of nasty emotion was smaller and easier to push away. Once more, and her emotions settled into something more comfortable. Her skin felt like her own again, and she could appreciate the strength of her body without focusing on its lack of chi.
A few minutes later, she heard Sokka approach and stop to stand in front of her. She didn't open her eyes. He shifted in awkward silence. When she didn't acknowledge him, he said, "Dude, you're marrying my sister?"
Azula didn't bother to open her eyes. "I am not a dude. You may address me as Azula or Princess."
"Okay then, 'Azula or Princess'. You're marrying my sister?"
It wasn't worth acknowledging his silly insult, especially after his childish snicker.
"A consortium is not a marriage."
"Close enough. This is the part where I threaten you if you break Katara's heart."
Azula opened her eyes to glare at Sokka, who stood in front of her with his arms folded. He swallowed. "Okay, so obviously you aren't scared of me, but I swear I will figure out a way to be so annoying you'll just wish I could beat you up."
She got to her feet and drew one of her swords. He stepped back with nervous laughter. "Yeah right! I'd like to keep my limbs intact, thanks. And Katara would murder me if I hurt you. Completely lose-lose for me. We're using practice swords. But we're talking about my sister first." He grimaced. "I'm not really looking forward to it either, but I'm her big brother. It's my duty."
Azula rolled her eyes as she sheathed her sword and set it back on the floor. She settled onto her shins in seiza. A family conversation, goodie. She might as well be truthful. "The only reason I'm here is to make her happy."
Sokka frowned. "I'm not sure if that's sweet or manipulative. Nevermind, it's you so it's definitely manipulative." He said it so genially that she couldn't take offense to his words. He sighed. "Look, are you leading her on, or do you plan to stick with her long term?"
Azula glanced down at her hands as she decided if she wanted to answer that question truthfully. The scab on the middle knuckle of her right hand had begun to peel off on the edge. "I have no designs on leaving her."
"Well, that's good," Sokka said awkwardly. He was fidgeted for a moment before he sat facing her. "I'm going to be honest here. I thought Katara was nuts when she first told me about you two. I still think she's nuts. But she seems happy...a lot happier than when she was with Aang. You've been together for a few years now."
Five years, but who was counting? "I'm surprised you're not arguing his case."
Sokka rocked back to settle on his backside. His movements were disarming. He still looked like a gangly teenager, but he could be as graceful as his sister. "Aang's my best friend, but Katara's my little sister. It's pretty clear they're never going to happen. I want her to be happy, and I know Aang will get over her eventually." Sokka cleared his throat. "If you do plan to marry my sister, you need to come to the South Pole, and you need to meet our dad and Gran Gran—er, our grandmother."
Azula studied her fingernails; she needed another coat of polish on them. She tried to adopt a lofty tone, but her words came out flat. "What does your father think of me?"
"Do you want the truth?"
She fixed him with a disdainful glare. "If I didn't, I would have made up my own lie."
"Point taken. Dad's not exactly happy about you. But you gotta do it if you plan to be with her long term."
Azula's mouth tightened. "I'll take that into consideration."
Sokka raised his eyebrows, and he nodded in apparent satisfaction. "Okay, big brother duty over. You don't plan to beat me up now, do you?"
"No doubt Katara will be leaving after the wedding. I plan to enjoy my time with her until then, which means you're off limits."
"Good. Glad to know my sister's feminine wiles work on you." Sokka got up and offered Azula his hand. She nearly ignored it, but perhaps she owed him the gesture for being supportive. If she let herself, she would be in danger of actually liking him.
She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
And, to her surprise, he taught her a thing or two about sword work. They both came away from their hour-long sparring session bruised and sweating and knowing a bit more than before. Sokka proved himself to be as skilled a warrior as his sister was a waterbender. Azula was impressed despite herself.
"You don't pull any punches," he said, rubbing a swollen bruise on his forearm. "Oof. I haven't worked that hard since the last time Suki made me put on the Kyoshi uniform. Thanks for not frying my ass with lightning or setting my hair on fire."
There were many things Azula could say to that as she pictured him in uniform and full makeup. She went with something a little more politic: "I haven't taken for granted that you've been so accepting of me."
Sokka glanced over in surprise at her admission. "Like I said, Katara's pretty crazy about you. I trust her judgment. I doubt she'd be with you if she still thought you were a homicidal maniac." His smile faded because of whatever he saw in her expression. "That was a terrible joke. Pretend I didn't say that."
He went so far as to pat her hand. He jerked his hand back at her glare and heaved a sigh. "Even if you weren't with my sister, what happened back during the war... I figure you were just doing what you thought was best for the Fire Nation. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to be friends with Zuko and not accept you. Suki may be hostile, but she's not me." They sat in awkward silence until he began to laugh. "Oh, man. They got into a fistfight over you once."
That was a surprise. "Who did?"
Sokka grinned at her. His eyes flashed blue, and his teeth were the same straight line as Katara's. "Katara and Suki got in a fistfight a few years ago. They were literally throwing punches at each other."
Azula tried to imagine it. Her vision ended with Katara apologizing and healing every bruise and scrape she'd given.
Sokka continued, "Like I said: she loves you. And I think you love her too." He didn't wait for a reply, not that she would have given him one. He stood, stretched, and pointed from his eyes and back at Azula with a mock glare. "My former threat still stands though. You hurt her, and I am so annoying you to death."
Azula allowed herself to smile. Sokka was so surprised he tripped and fell headlong on his way out of the training room.
The next day, she worked in her study through breakfast and then donned her armor and ordered a palanquin ready. As she sat on the shoulders of her servants, Azula filled herself with the ordained elitism she knew she would need to face Tazu and his cohorts. When she stepped onto the nobleman's courtyard, she was ready to play her part. She almost anticipated it.
All the men were present and accounted for. Laza, Tazu's coy daughter, was there as well, but she excused herself after meeting Azula's gaze with a long look. Azula didn't like that she had trouble interpreting that look...not that it could be of any importance given the woman it had come from.
"We are concerned, Fire Lord."
Azula settled her arms behind her back and cocked her head as she paced along the two tables. She gave Tazu a direct baleful stare. His eyes went wide, and he fell prostrate. At least the man had a healthy fear for her.
A few of the seated noblemen regarded her openly, a blatant disrespect. She could guess the reason why. Young Lam, grandson of Old Lam, was either appointed the dissenters' spokesman or he took it upon himself. He said, "We think it's inappropriate to place a Fire Lord who has a foreign consort."
Azula raised one eyebrow and studied the handsome condescending man. "Tell me, Lam, what are your concerns?"
"She's a foreigner."
Lam was insolent with his response, reclined to one side, making and keeping eye contact. He'd spoken as if she were a child. She replied in kind. "The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe's chief. Do you think this country will survive a coup that is not in part supported by a foreign power?"
If not for maintaining this charade, she would have considered beheading him. It was still a tempting thought: his neck parting from his shoulders with his blood pumping in time to the dying beats of his heart. The vision matched the anger that her heart pumped through her veins. How dare they look down upon her lover, her legal consort?
She made sure they couldn't see the anger on her face. It was beneath her to allow them to stir any sort of emotion in her, especially in this situation about this matter. The anger simmered in her gut.
Lam had no sense of the danger he had stepped into. He continued his objections. "The Southern Water Tribe is minimal. They are nothing. And we worry about the legal responsibilities you hold for this woman."
"My, but you are a foolish little man." Lam's face twisted in anger, but she continued on airily. "If I must explain it, then I suppose I can. The Southern Water Tribe holds great sway over the Northern Water Tribe. In combination with that fact and that my brother is still unpopular with them, I will be more than welcomed in a deposition. It will be useful, as the Earth Kingdom still smarts over the ease at which I conquered their greatest city." She adopted a supercilious tone to mirror his. "Lam, tell me, do you fear this woman will bear me an heir?"
An embarrassed silence encased the room. Azula spun in a slow circle and met all of their eyes, continuing on her patronizing note. "Am I wrong in assuming you men know the basic facts of procreation?"
"That doesn't negate the fact that her children—"
"Her children are exempt from vying for the throne. My children will be my heirs and the heirs to the throne." Azula could barely stomach what she'd just said. She took on the tone of Royal Command. "This will not be discussed again. Do you understand?"
Ferrety Tazu nodded his head against the floor. For this entire conversation, he'd kept his head down. He probably had an imprint of the floor on his polished forehead. His thin hands trembled. "Yes, Fire Lord."
"I don't—"
"We will not discuss this again!" Tazu snapped, cutting off Lam's protest. That raised her respect for him just slightly above negligible.
Azula chose a seat next to Tazu, enjoying his palpable discomfort. Her anger still simmered close to the surface, and he seemed to sense that. She put her hand to his trembling shoulder and adopted a lighter tone. "Now, on to business. What plans do you have right now to physically usurp my brother?"
As it turned out, 'detailed plans' was an exaggeration. It was going to be a challenge to get this group ready in time for Zuko's wedding. Simpler might be better, all things considered: hidden daggers had always been classic. It would give her more time to make her own preparations. No doubt they would trust all repercussions after Zuko's death to her.
Repercussions like the certain decline in their foreign investments, the need to retake the military that was under control of the High General who was fiercely loyal to Zuko, the loss of the Earth Kingdom's raw rice and grain trades… Et cetera. Ad nauseam. Nothing important.
After they'd laid out their miserable plot, she directed them to something more concrete. "My brother's wedding is approaching."
"So soon?" Tazu was dismayed.
"Soon?" Azula sneered. He flinched. "Seven years I've been quietly biding my time. Do you think seven years is 'too soon', Tazu?"
He trembled. "No, my Lord."
She patted his shoulder. "Think before you speak next time you have a silly objection."
There were no more objections from anyone, even condescending Lam. Perhaps they all sensed she wouldn't take another insult lightly. She handled them sharply that day and cowed and angered most of them by the time their meeting adjourned in the evening.
If she'd been in any less of a dark mood, she would have enjoyed the cleverness required to carefully sniff out their every secret: what servants knew of the plot, which families might be involved, the motivations and marriages and alliances therein. Azula carefully catalogued all of these secrets; she would need to keep them straight to pass the information on to Zuko.
When Azula took her palanquin back to the palace, she felt no relief at leaving the nobles' oily condescension. Instead her tension multiplied as she strode quickly down the long corridors of the palace. She knew exactly where she would go and what she would do there. She wanted Katara. She wanted to see her and touch her and erase every insult and condescension from her mind—erase her own dismissive words during that meeting. Her need sat in an ugly, tight ball in her gut.
She strode into her suite, startling her majordomo enough to provoke a yelp. Katara was in their sitting room as she'd promised. She'd taken one look at Azula leaving that afternoon in her armor and said she'd wait for her—as if Azula was ever in any danger.
Azula glanced at the cards on the table and the servants sitting across from her lover. Usually she felt vague discomfort that Katara treated them as friends, not staff. Now she had no spare emotional energy to think of it. Her eyes focused on Katara. Whatever her expression was, it caused the servants to quickly vacate the room.
Katara's eyes widened. She stood up as Azula approached, and Azula seized her and pulled her in for a hard kiss that she dictated. She wanted this woman desperately, and she would have her here and now. She would take what she wanted now.
Katara made a noise of surprise against Azula's lips, and Azula pushed her backwards until they both hit the wall. She tore open the neck of Katara's tunic and bent to kiss her there.
"Not in the sitting room," Katara said with a laugh. Azula sneered in displeasure. She wasn't willing to wait. She bit Katara's bare shoulder, provoking a yelp. Azula yanked Katara's trousers down and palmed her sex roughly. Azula hissed in pleasure as Katara's hands tightened painfully in her hair.
"Oh," Katara said, shivering at her touch.
Azula used her other arm to lift Katara against her body, and Katara wrapped her legs around Azula's waist, finally caught up in the frenzy that had seized Azula. Azula wasted no time to push inside her lover. She was rough, and she took what she wanted fiercely.
Katara gasped into her mouth—a sound of pleasure, not pain—and they rocked together frantically. Each thrust provoked a loud keen from Katara, who was usually so cognizant of servants overhearing. Azula swallowed some of those cries with a hard kiss. They strained together for long, desperate minutes. Azula was savagely triumphant when Katara finally jerked against her and came with a cry.
In the next few moments, they settled into stillness. Azula's gasps softened as she slowly came back to herself. She realized she'd been grinning fiercely and felt the expression slide from her face. She carefully withdrew her fingers from Katara's wet heat. Katara's legs released her hips, and when her feet were back on the ground, Katara nearly fell. Azula held her close to keep her upright. She hid her face in Katara's hair and replayed what had just happened with growing dismay.
What had she just done?
"Wow," Katara mumbled. "What got into you?"
There was no displeasure in Katara's voice. Azula swallowed before she could speak, and her voice sounded odd to her own ears. "Did I hurt you?"
Katara shook her head in denial and refastened her trousers. When she pulled Azula into the bedroom, she winced. "I'm just not used to that." She beckoned Azula to follow her and sat on their bed. Katara patted the bed beside her. Azula sat. She couldn't bear to return the long kiss that Katara gave her or respond to her caress.
Katara was surprised by her reluctance. "Baby, what's wrong?"
She tried to conceptualize the strange dark lust that had taken hold of her. All afternoon she'd been an entitled princess that lorded over noblemen's fear—with all that anger and bitterness that had sat in her gut since their dismissal of Katara. And then Azula had come back and treated Katara just as those men assumed she did. She'd brought that princess to the figurative bedroom with Katara. It was a bitter shame.
Katara was perplexed. She withdrew her intimate massage from Azula's thigh and stroked the feathery hair of Azula's nape gently, coaxing Azula to meet her eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I lost control."
Katara cupped Azula's face and drew her in for a gentle kiss. "You make me lose control too. Why in the world are you upset about this?"
Azula couldn't voice the truth: she was afraid she wouldn't have heeded Katara's denial if she'd given it, not while she was treating her like something she could strip bare and possess wholly. Somehow, Katara read her thoughts; she looked at Azula in disbelief. "Azula, come on. If I had said 'no' you would have stopped in a heartbeat. I trust you. You should too."
She needed to be sure: "Did I hurt you?"
"I promise you you didn't. I'm not made of glass." She looked at Azula then with only love and affection. "We're getting that armor bronzed if that's what caused all this." When her words didn't provoke a response, she sighed softly. "The only thing you should be feeling guilty about is how embarrassed I'm going to be about everyone in this apartment knowing exactly what we were doing."
At that, Azula could only offer a tight smile.
She needed again, but in a very different way. Azula stood up and shucked her armor unceremoniously. She touched Katara in question. Katara, still looking at her in tender perplexity, nodded in acceptance; she allowed Azula to undress her and unbraid her hair. Katara breathed quietly against her as Azula pushed her down onto the bed and gathered her close.
Azula brushed her fingers over the bruises she'd left on Katara's hips and kissed them gently. She brushed her mouth against Katara's skin, breathing her essence, taking her in, and cataloguing her every feature to memory.
Katara was water, fluidity and softness and graceful shifts and turns—in her soul and in her body. Azula saw that in the curve of her hip and the sweep of her breasts and the arch of her collarbone; she saw it every day in the graceful movements and shifting emotions Katara displayed to the world so honestly. She was fire, all scorching temper and fierce pride; her desires were always hot, simmering low and flaring bright in turn. She was earth, stubborn and set in her ways, rock solid in her moralities, her loyalties, and her loves.
This woman was everything. She deserved to be worshiped. She deserved softness and gentleness and every pleasure in the world.
Katara accepted Azula's touches and her kisses, and she gasped as Azula's fingers finally slipped between her legs. This time, Azula was deliberately gentle...until Katara seized her wrist to force more pressure. "Yes," she whispered, and Azula accepted the gift she was given. There would be no more taking, not when Katara so freely offered everything she gave to Azula.
Afterwards, Azula quietly said, "I love you."
Katara touched her face. "I know that, doofus," she said gently. She brushed her fingers over Azula's eyebrows and across her mouth. "Don't feel guilty for wanting me. There's no reason."
"You deserve better."
"I don't really care about what I deserve or not. I want you."
The morning was remarkably hot even as early in the day as it was. Azula sweated like a pig as she trained in the hot, muggy air. There was some pleasure in it, despite how disgusting she was sure she smelled. The sweat cooled on her face and soothed her as she settled for her breathing meditation.
It was no surprise to her when she heard her mother's voice. "What's this I hear about you and Katara forming a consortium?"
Azula exhaled her last breath; her training was done for the day by that statement. At least she was cooling down. She opened her eyes, blinked past the stinging sweat that had rolled into one eye, and looked up at her mother. It didn't surprise her that Ursa had sought her out. Azula had been using the coup plot to keep herself busy so she could avoid this very conversation.
"It's true."
"And you didn't think to consult your mother about it?"
"I asked the only logical person to ask: my consort."
Ursa heaved an exasperated sigh; her uneasy look belied her words: "I'm happy for you, sweetie. I had no idea you were serious."
"Why would I waste my time if I weren't?" Azula was stung by her mother's assumption.
Ursa held up her hands in a peace gesture. "You're young so I assumed you weren't ready to settle down. Katara's the only person you've been with." She hesitated. "She's not here that often."
"It is surprising I'd get it right the first time?" Azula asked. She refused to touch on an issue that she had yet to work out with Katara. She didn't want her mother to latch onto that unhappiness as another reason Azula shouldn't be with Katara.
"Don't take that tone with me, missy," Ursa said sharply.
"You've never approved of her," Azula replied just as sharply. She'd let this go far too long. "There's no one else for me. I've chosen her, and you will accept that. That's my ultimatum to give. Treat Katara as family because she is."
Ursa's expression tightened in anger through her words. Abruptly, she lost that emotion. Her shoulders drooped, and she frowned. "I only want you to be happy, Azula. Can you tell me that she'll give up her life in the South Pole to be your wife?"
"I would never ask that." Because she knew Katara wouldn't choose her. "Just as she would never ask me to do the same. Leave my relationship to me."
Ursa looked at Azula like she'd never seen her before. "You and your brother are far more alike than you realize." What that meant, Azula could only guess. Had Zuzu put his foot down his mommy's treatment of Mai? Ursa's lips pinched as she conceded, "I'll try to be more accepting. I still want to have lunch with you and Katara. We'll go out and have a nice meal this afternoon."
"Do we have a choice in this matter?"
"No."
Azula got up with a sigh. Ursa held out her arms, and Azula dutifully stepped into them for a hug and kiss. Ursa said, "I promise I'll try to be happy for you, but you can't ask me to stop worrying about you. I love you, sweetie."
Dutifully, she recited, "I love you too, Mom."
Ursa untied her sleeves.
Azula broke the news about their forced dinner plans to Katara late that morning. It was the first time they were alone together that day. "Okay," Katara said a little dubiously. "But I promised I'd give private waterbending lessons to the ambassador's kids this afternoon."
"Come whatever time you can," Azula said. She was momentarily distracted as she watched Iroh and Mai wander through Ursa's garden together. They were in conference. Azula had a hard time imagining that conversation. Was Mai actually smiling? She shook herself and turned back to Katara. "But take a palanquin."
"I can walk."
"As my consort, you need some measure of safety. It would look irresponsible of me not to provide transportation for you." Azula saw that Katara didn't want to change her mind. She said a word she hated to use outside of sex: "Please."
Katara hesitated, then she heaved a sigh. "Okay, fine. I want a carriage though, not a palanquin. I'd feel weird getting carried around."
"That's acceptable."
Katara rolled her eyes and mimicked Azula. "'That's acceptable.' I'll show you acceptable." She gave a threatening look only to clamber into Azula's lap. As if Azula would protest that. "By the way, thanks for not killing my brother."
Azula sipped her tea. She slipped an arm around Katara's back to keep her where she was. "Shockingly, he was helpful. If you tell him I said that, I'll deny it to my dying breath."
"Don't worry. He has a big enough head as it is." She hesitated. "Did he say anything about our, um, consortium?"
"He said he would annoy me to death if I broke your heart," Azula replied lightly. "I believe he has that ability."
Katara giggled at that.
"Katara…" Katara looked at her in question. "I'm sorry for yesterday."
"You have nothing to apologize for. Stop it with the angst." Katara kissed her gently. "Do you really think I'd put up with you doing something I didn't want?" Katara raised an eyebrow as Azula considered the chances. "Yeah, I didn't think so."
Katara left soon after, but Azula had plenty to keep herself occupied with before her mother would find her for their dinner.
Ever dependable Kota provided her with a concise report about the families of all the men involved in the coup. Predictably, most of them had been targeted by Zuko's raised taxation protocol. Many of them sidestepped these taxes by putting more of their money in investments in the Earth Kingdom—which offered a huge tax decrease in comparison to the Fire Nation.
They spent much of their time tracing the complicated intertwined relationships between all the houses. Kota's neat script labeled family trees until they had a mess of family names on a long sheet of parchment. It was all shockingly incestuous now that Azula saw it on paper.
"No wonder they're all fools. They've been inbreeding for ages."
There was one bit of information Azula couldn't gain from the meetings she'd had with the rebels so far. She'd always arrived after they were all settled and ready. If these men had been having secret meetings before her involvement, why had Zuko not realized it? Kota had the assignment of watching for the arrival of Tazu's crew. "Did you see how they arrived at Tazu's estate?"
"There was no sign of the men entering or exiting the household."
"But they were seen out and about later in the day?"
"Yes, Princess."
It was something she would have to assign to another set of servants altogether to investigate. They were otherwise occupied at the moment. It wasn't as of yet important; she would sit on it for a while. Perhaps Tazu could be persuaded to give up his secret. "Underground passage, perhaps?"
"I checked the old architecture notes of the estate; if there is something like that, it was added in secret."
Kota's foresight pleased her. It was a comfort to have an intelligent servant. Azula leaned back and pursed her lips as she once again studied the complicated intertwining family trees on the desk. They discussed the rumors floating around about each family before Kota stated Ursa would be arriving within the half hour. Azula left her servant to clean up their notes so that the evidence of their afternoon wouldn't be visible to Ursa.
Azula didn't worry about changing her clothes; Katara had been in her usual casual garb when she left. Ursa frowned at Azula's trousers and tunic, but she didn't say anything. She did, however, untie Azula's sleeves for the second time that day.
"It's a nice day. Let's walk."
Azula sighed, giving her sleeves up for a lost cause. They were wide and heavy and easily exceeded the length of her fingers. "What is it with all this fascination for walking?"
"Is Katara coming?" Ursa asked with some shortness.
Azula gave her mother a warning glance. "She had a prior appointment. She'll arrive later."
They walked side-by-side in silence as they made their way out to the streets beyond the palace towards the restaurant that Ursa had chosen. Azula had no doubt her servants would direct Katara to the appropriate place.
It was quiet this time of day. One carriage rolled by them but the street was otherwise unoccupied. Azula glanced down one alley and across the street, feeling vaguely cautious.
"It's a lovely day today." Ursa tried to fill their silence.
Azula swept her eyes down the empty street again. Something felt wrong. She'd never doubted her instincts, and now she went on alert. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard the faint sounds of running footsteps above. She reached for the dagger she kept at her waist.
Then came the smell of ozone and sulfur, of firebending. She realized the smell reminded her sharply of Ozai; it invoked an emotional response that nearly made her freeze. Azula reached out for her mother's arm.
"Azula, I said I'd try. Stop it with the silent treatm—"
Fire came at her from above, and she shoved Ursa into the road and rolled away in the other direction. The attacker landed on the sweep of his own fire. A second assault blew down towards Azula from a second firebender standing on the neighboring roof. She needed to get out to the street, not stand by these flammable walls.
Azula rolled in a practiced move. The first man landed hard on his back when she swept his legs out from under him. The second leapt towards Ursa, and Azula bounded to her feet. Was this an attack on her mother?! The first was back on his feet and seized Azula from behind before she could intervene. She lifted her dagger, but he disarmed her and it skittered away. She brought her knee into his vulnerable gut and seized his hair to drive her thumb into his eye. He let her go with a yelp.
She tackled the second man to stop his firebending attack on Ursa. They went down in a heap and wrestled briefly. He managed to get her on her back. She lifted her hands to protect her face from the blow she knew would come, but something distracted him from behind. The man shifted over her—his knee twisted into her hip—and kicked behind him. Had Ursa attacked him? Azula threw her hips and rolled to put her knee in his face. His nose broke beneath her kneecap. The swath of fire he kicked out was broken by Ursa with a clumsy bending technique.
"Get away!" Azula snarled at her mother. Ursa was a distraction; she was a worry. Azula had never had to protect someone during a fight before.
Azula keyed on her dagger and snatched it up. She tried to adjust her grip; her long sleeve had caught up between her hand and her dagger. Both men were focused on her now, which was a small victory. The first launched a novice fire attack before she managed to adjust her grip. She rolled forward into close range. The flame missed her. She stepped into his body and pushed out of her crouch to slice his neck with her dagger. It slipped out of the slick silk in her hand before she could finish the blow. He flinched away and grabbed his throat, but she'd only clipped one side of his neck.
She realized her mistake in using the dagger in the first place. She should have just used her fist and broken his larynx.
The second man came at her immediately, bleeding from his now-crooked nose. She anticipated his fire and spun sideways. She seized his wrist, wrenched him down into a weak stance, boxed his ear, and executed a sharp kick to his extended knee. The cartilage and ligaments popped and he crumpled. His nasal scream was cut off as she kicked him in the head and broke his neck.
The other man shouted, "Bitch!" behind her. She turned instinctively. He had her dagger, and he scored a hit that sliced like fire between her ribs. She felt the blade grind against bone; the sensation was disturbing.
He swung at her again, but he was careless now that he relied on a weapon instead of his bending—as she had been too. His attack was haphazard, and she easily caught his wrist, changed the momentum of his swing, and broke his arm. He gasped and his resulting exhalation was a burst of red fire. Azula swept her arm up in pure instinct. She didn't break his fire or control it as her own, but she saved her face from it. The flame set Azula's sleeve and arm alight. He took that opportunity to spin and run.
As if she would stop to put out the fire before she killed him. Fool. Azula picked up her dagger, ignored the fire that was peeling away the skin on her arm, and balanced the blade in her fingers. She threw it.
It pithed him, and he crumpled like a doll.
Ursa was there, wrapping her outer robe around Azula's burning arm to snuff the flame. It was a reprieve; with it came the pain of her injuries. Azula put a hand to her waist and confirmed the stickiness of blood against her side. She wiped her hand quickly on her black tunic before her mother could see.
Her ears rang as she asked her mother, "Are you hurt?"
"No, no, I'm not." Ursa's eyes were brilliant amber against her pale face. She looked like she was going to faint. "Azula, oh, are you hurt?"
"I want my knife," she said. She flicked her eyes across the rooftops and walls along the road but saw no other movement, aside from a few gawkers in the distance. This was not the time for her mother to break down. Ursa seemed to realize it. She gathered herself and said, "I'll get it. I'll get it for you. Sit down; don't move."
"This isn't the way I'd planned to skip dinner," Azula muttered. She stilled her mother. "I'll get it. Don't bother with it."
"I've seen dead bodies before, Azula." As pale as she was, she still managed to look insulted. "Sit. I see guards coming."
Guards… In all this, Azula had never once considered signaling for support. She wondered at that, not sure if she felt foolish or prideful. As handicapped as she was—she so desperately hated thinking of herself as that—she'd won.
Ursa was back a moment later with Azula's dagger wrapped delicately in a handkerchief. It was wet with bright blood and flecks of pale tissue that looked like fat. Brain matter, perhaps. The blade hadn't chipped on the man's spine or skull, thankfully.
It was a pretty bauble, wasn't it? But when it came down to a battle, Ozai had been right: there was no better weapon than her own body. Azula had assumed that without firebending she would need something else to fill the gap. She'd completely taken for granted her own body. Without the dagger to take her attention away from the fight, she was certain she would have defeated both men without injury to herself. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Please sit down!"
"I refuse to sit in the street," Azula replied evenly. She unwrapped Ursa's robe from her arm and threw it over a patch of flame that had begun to spread across a wicker accent on the building beside them. There was nothing she could do about the flame that was gradually spreading across the roof of the building.
With the close proximity of all the buildings and the fact that the majority of them were made with flammable construction materials, a fire could conceivably wipe out the entire district if uncontrolled. She'd once read the theory of an Earth Kingdom scholar that the nobles of the Fire Nation lived in a ring of 'tinder boxes' outside the Royal Palace because it would allow the Fire Lord to wipe out his noble subjects with one powerful burst of flame. At the time, the thought had amused her. It didn't amuse her now.
"I shouldn't have said we'd walk." Ursa looked at Azula's blackened sleeve and oozing skin as they retreated from the burning building. "I untied your sleeves."
Azula scoffed as she wiped her dagger clean with the handkerchief. "And I should have asked for an armed escort and worn my armor. Who would have guessed right outside the palace walls this would happen?" She met and held her mother's gaze. "Please humor my whims on sleeve ties in the future."
Ursa looked stricken. "I won't make that mistake again. Thank the dragon your father has been on me to practice my basic fire-breaking katas. I was afraid to firebend out here. Why is everything made of wood?"
The full escort of armed guards surrounded them, and a contingent of civilian fire-suppressors quickly set to work on the patches of flame caused by Azula's attackers.
"It was just the two men," Azula told the guards, half her attention on the fire-suppressors. There was a waterbender in their midst. Interesting. "Send out four men to do a quick sweep, but do not enter any homes or shops. Use your resources to figure out who these men were and why they attacked the Honored Mother." A chill passed through her. "Send someone for my consort."
The man in charge saluted. His name was Tomo; Azula remembered him from her childhood. He was one of the most competent men she'd ever known, hence he'd been commander of the Royal Guard for years. She'd banished him along with all of his men during Sozin's Comet, but he never seemed to hold it against her. He took her command now seamlessly. "Yes, Princess. Someone was sent to inform Lady Katara as soon as we learned of the attack; there has been no report of another attack. I can arrange for a carriage to take you back to the Palace."
She didn't know why she'd even wasted a worry on Katara. Katara could easily fend off such unskilled attacks.
"I'll walk." She was having no trouble breathing, which was her main worry. If the wound in her side had scored deep enough to open her chest, she would already be feeling the effects in her lung. "I'm sure there are many curious eyes on me right now. I would hate to make the nobles worry."
His lips twitched in a half-smile as he bowed. "As you wish, Princess."
Ursa was not so accommodating, but after only a moment, she reached out and took Azula's unburned arm to walk back with her. She looked back over her shoulder and sighed in apparent relief. "The fire's out."
Despite herself, Azula allowed her mother to take a little weight. She sensed the four royal guards that loosely flanked them for their walk back to the palace gates. "We'll have to reimburse the owner for his damaged property... What were we talking about before? The weather?"
Ursa's voice was low. "You're bleeding. I saw him cut you."
"It's not serious."
"You don't know that."
"I do," Azula retorted, "As I am still able to walk."
"When did you learn to throw your knife?"
"It's balanced as a throwing knife. I made Mai teach me how to throw during the war, but I relied solely on my bending then. It's always better to know more in any case."
"Mai can throw knives," Ursa repeated slowly.
"Among her many deadly talents." Azula sighed a little wistfully. "She was such a useful servant."
Ursa shook her head, giving that subject up. "Who could have done this?"
"I have a few ideas."
...like conceited Lam and any one of the conspirators. Why they would attack Ursa she couldn't guess. Perhaps it had to do with the public education edict that Ursa and Mai were campaigning for. Or it could be any of the many nobles Azula had insulted and blackmailed in the last few years. Azula had the humorous thought of stupid, handsome Chan finally deciding to pay her back for destroying his nana's precious possessions.
She couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of illogical thoughts commoners or nobles had about the royal family.
Azula didn't know, and it was difficult to put her mind to much but each step past the palace gates. She'd never been this affected by a fight before, aside from the obvious exception. She's survived worse than this every day of her childhood. There was no reason to be so unsteady.
"Azula!"
It was Katara rushing through the palace gates, running full tilt towards her. Azula and her mother turned towards her approach. The royal guards stepped aside in a coordinated move. Katara's eyes took in her burned sleeve and immediately went towards Azula's bloody side. She drew water into her hands, and it began to glow.
"Why don't we go inside first?" Azula asked. She raised her hand to stay Katara.
Katara looked at her sharply; her voice shifted into a tone that Azula had never heard her produce. "Sit down."
Azula sat down on one of the benches that lined the cobblestone path in front of the palace.
"Where is she hurt?" Katara directed her question to Ursa.
"One of those men stabbed her in the chest."
Azula took offense to that. "That is a ludicrous exaggeration."
Katara abruptly placed her hands over Azula's side. Her flesh sealed with a sharp succession of pinpricks. Azula jerked as Katara's fingers slipped into her tunic to probe the flesh she'd just partly healed. "I'm sorry," Katara murmured distractedly. "I know you're ticklish; I just want to make sure…"
"Her arm is burned as well," Ursa said uselessly. Her attention flickered from the glowing water cradled in Katara's hands to Katara's face.
"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Mom." Azula's rude comment didn't distract Ursa in the least.
Katara hissed as she examined Azula's forearm. "This will scar."
"If I had an issue with burn scars, I would have thrown myself off a cliff when I was ten."
"I'm glad you're taking all of this so seriously," Katara muttered. Her brow tightened in concentration. She caressed Azula's arm with her healing waters and soothed the low-grade heat of the burn. A new layer of shiny, tender skin covered her forearm after a few moments. Azula found it within herself to say, "Thank you."
"Don't scare me like that again." Katara pulled her close, and Azula hid her wince in Katara's shoulder. Though her main injuries were soothed, she was sore from the first real fight she'd had in almost seven years. "They said you'd been attacked, and I came as fast as I could. What were you thinking, walking back?!"
"I'd rather the nobles not know I'd been hurt," Azula replied. They might know anyway, with Azula sitting here on a bench in front of the palace after a waterbender tended to her. "Am I allowed to stand up and walk into the palace now?"
Thankfully, she was inside her quarters and seated on a comfortable cushion only a few minutes later. Kota, flushed and nervous, handed her a cup of fruit juice. Azula didn't think anything of drinking it. She'd finished it before she wondered why her servant still hovered anxiously beside her.
The world tilted slightly, and her eyes went heavy. She managed to glare at Katara and Ursa and say, "You made my servant drug me," before she wasn't able to do much more than be led to her bed and slide into it.
When she woke up, her muscles unfroze all at once with her jolt. The sun was setting, and the bed was empty next to her. She held in her groan as she sat up. Her side and arm were stiff, and her muscles felt like iron and didn't want to cooperate. This was what she got for not stretching appropriately after so much physical exercise.
Azula frowned down at herself. She didn't remember changing into a sleeping robe.
Of course she didn't remember. They'd drugged her. She'd wasted time and hadn't had the chance to speak to Tomo or her own servants about the attack…and for what reason?
Azula glanced around, but Kota didn't magically materialize like she always did. It was strange to be completely alone in her own quarters.
A bath was absolutely necessary; she couldn't believe they'd put her in her bed as sweaty and dusty as she was. Her skin crawled as she imagined how disgusting she was. The bathing chambers were dark, and she stared at the lamp next to her for a long moment. Once it was no matter to light it and all the lamps in the room with a sigh. Now…
She turned around, unable to stomach using a match.
"You're awake!"
Still irritated about being manhandled that afternoon, Azula brushed by Katara. "I need a bath and dinner. Kota!"
Kota was immediately within reach.
"Lay my armor out."
"No. Don't do that," Katara interjected. She went so far as to put a staying hand on Kota's arm. Kota shot a terrified look to Azula, caught between her mistress and the woman her mistress had commanded her to obey.
Azula was too angry to respond to the desperation she saw in Katara's eyes. "She is my servant, and she will obey me."
"You're not going anywhere tonight!"
"You have no authority over me."
Katara's eyes narrowed. "No?" she asked, her tone deathly quiet.
Azula refused to be cowed. "Bath, dinner, and my armor."
Kota bowed low, kept her head uncharacteristically ducked, and led Azula to her bathing chambers. Katara clattered down the steps after them. "Azula! Listen to me!"
She shucked her robe and sat down at the small wooden bench, gingerly wiping away the blood at her side. She only patted her arm; the skin was tender and paper-thin despite Katara's healing. She stared for a moment at several heavy locks of hair that were singed short. Kota immediately brought out her scissors and began to trim away to even the cut.
"Damn it, Azula!" Katara's angry voice was tainted by tears.
"I'm aware someone tried to kill my mother and me, Katara," Azula snapped. "That is why I need to go out now."
She'd made a mistake in killing both of her attackers; there was no one to question. Now she had to rule out the dissenters immediately. If they knew she was double-crossing them, they would scatter to the wind and escape punishment. If not them…it could be any number of people who had a reason to want Ursa or Azula dead. She would have to assign several men to look into it, a waste of precious resources.
"Why not tomorrow? What's half a day going to do?"
Stupid question. "It will show I am strong and capable the day of an assassination attempt on my mother, which I thwarted."
"So will going out tomorrow. What if you walk right into the people who tried to kill you?!" Katara's voice broke. "I hate this! I hate this country! All this subterfuge and spying and plots and posturing! Why do you have to be involved with it?!"
That tantrum didn't deserve a response.
"Please, Azula…"
She turned her head, startled by the tears she heard in Katara's voice. Katara slowly sank to her knees, her face pressed into her hand. Her voice was weak. "Do you think it was because of me?"
Azula's mouth opened, but she had nothing to say for a long moment. "The thought never occurred to me." Her anger bled away immediately. "No matter if people approve of our relationship or not, it wouldn't be worth the risk of attacking the royal family."
"It was right after…"
"No, Katara. This has nothing to do with you."
"Please don't go. I need to sleep next to you tonight."
Despite everything—her anger, her determination, her stubbornness—Azula looked into Katara's eyes and yielded.
Katara held her very close that night while they slept.
-TBC-