Chapter 9: All the best intentions
"What's wrong?"
Azula glanced up from the book in her hands, surprised to hear her consort's voice in the palace archives. She hadn't seen Katara at all that day and was startled by how welcome this interruption was. Katara had drawn her hair back in a high ponytail and wore one of Azula's silk tunics; as casual as she was, she was beautiful. She frowned down at Azula with her arms crossed, but her expression communicated worry, not anger.
"Nothing's wrong."
Katara raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. She sat down practically on top of Azula, so close that her breasts pressed against the side of Azula's face. The distraction was pleasant but unwelcome. This gesture and its public nature were uncharacteristic of her lover. Azula wasn't sure how exactly to respond. She decided on a gentle dry comment, spoken into Katara's cleavage. "Your level of clinginess has rapidly escalated since we've become consorts."
Katara pulled back to respond. "I feel like I haven't seen you in two days. You buried yourself in these archives yesterday; you came to bed after I was asleep last night; and you left before I was awake. Kota said you visited Ozai. What happened?"
Of course this was out of worry. She'd needed quiet and space, but Katara thought talking about bad feelings would erase them. At this point, she was tired enough of her brooding anger that she didn't resist. Azula considered telling Katara the whole truth and realized there was no reason to hurt her feelings or coax her worry.
She simply said, "Ozai has denounced me as his daughter. I will no longer be visiting him."
"Good riddance."
Azula felt the sting of offense, but she refused to show it. Katara's gaze was a gentle caress, and her fingers stroked though Azula's hair, which was down for the day. Her next words took away all sting. "But I'm sorry if you're upset. Was it because of me?"
"It was because of me." Azula shifted; her left thigh had gone to sleep. "Have the other chairs spontaneously combusted?"
Katara kissed her temple and got to her feet. Azula turned back to her book, which detailed grain growth, trade, and processing. Zuko had complained time and time again that the Earth Kingdom was scalping them on agriculture tariffs. Given the Fire Nation had little appropriate land or climate for grain agriculture, they relied on imports from the Earth Kingdom.
Wheat couldn't be grown…but rice was another matter. Perhaps they could expand what farmland they did have with water terraces that were used for—
Katara was back, this time tugging at her hair. "What are you doing?"
"Braiding your hair."
"Why are you—ow!"
"Hold still."
Azula's eyes watered, and she sneezed in reflex to the yank on her scalp. She dropped the book with more energy than the old text warranted. Katara, like Ursa, had an inherent talent at nagging. Katara just went about it a little differently.
"Stop torturing me. What do you want?"
Katara released her hair. "Stop reading and come with me. You need to eat."
Some things were worth arguing despite the possibility of creating tension between them. This was not one of them. Azula resigned herself to her fate and replaced her book in the stack she'd already read. She nodded to Yanu, archive head, as they left. He gave two polite bows, one to each of them. It was only appropriate.
Their walk through the palace led them down the royal gallery that housed each of the Fire Lord tapestries. Azula recited their names silently. The visages all posed with hands raised, caressed by flame and carrying symbols related to their rule.
She'd dreamed of what her own portrait might look like as a girl. Her imaginary tapestry had been framed by blue fire several years before she'd managed to change the heat and intensity of her flame. It was only right; she'd been named for her blue flames. Her imagined symbols ranged from the classic dragon for royalty to the scythe for war to the scroll for knowledge. After she'd conquered Ba Sing Se, she'd added the great city's rings beneath her feet on her banner.
Her mental Fire Lord portrait was appropriately bare now. She was just beginning to realize it didn't have to remain so, even if the tapestry never existed in physical form.
As they approached Zuko's visage, Katara asked, "Do you want to be on this wall?"
Yes. "No."
"Back during the war, wasn't that what you wanted most?" Katara asked the question without a hint of judgment, only gentle curiosity. Behind it, Azula sensed sympathy. That was to be expected from Katara, as much as Azula hated coaxing that emotion. She wanted Katara's pride, not her pity.
She didn't want to talk about this now. Every mention of the war further reminded her of the truth of her failures. Iroh's advice sat in the forefront of her mind—'accept your loss'—but its uselessness was more sting than balm. "I only wanted to bring glory to my nation."
It was not really an 'only'. There would never be an 'only' to the wishes she'd held then and now. The Fire Nation was the most powerful country in the world; its citizens were the strongest, proudest, and most stalwart people of all nations. She wanted to glorify that in a way that her country deserved, and that would take a lifetime of achievements. She didn't know how she could honor her country in these peaceful times and without the firebending touted by her people. But she could still try.
Her bad mood softened somewhat when they stepped onto their apartment balcony. A light private dinner awaited them there. Azula was surprised to see that the sun had set. She hadn't realized she'd been in the archives that long. It explained her headache and thirst.
Katara sensed Azula's temper and understood her current mood, and she was quiet through the short dinner. Azula felt some peace come to her, and along with it, tiredness. She hadn't slept well the night before. She was sleepy by the time she'd eaten her fill, but Katara stood up and pulled Azula to her feet.
"No nodding off allowed. You haven't danced with me at all this visit," Katara said quietly.
"I recall doing plenty of dancing in the last few weeks," Azula replied, her head comfortably tucked against Katara's neck.
"I meant the vertical kind, doofus."
"You do like to verbally abuse me."
Katara pulled away. Azula precluded their usual faux-sparring dance with a query. She knew she'd give away a little something with her question, but Katara was little risk, much gain. "The Earth Kingdom has a formal dance. Have you seen it?"
"The box step?"
Azula nodded in confirmation and took a step forward. Katara folded her arms behind her back with a knowing grin and took a step back. They mirrored each other on the step to Azula's left. Then Azula stepped back and Katara forward. Finally, they completed the step to Azula's right.
After a few more completed box steps, Katara drew closer and pulled Azula into her arms. Azula didn't miss a beat. She wound her arms around Katara's strong waist and pointed out, "I'm fairly certain touching isn't custom."
"Music usually is, but we don't need it. You don't care about custom any more than I do."
"Touché." Azula rotated her hips, guiding Katara with her grip on her hips, and their box turned into a rotating ellipse. Katara laughed and kept up with her, step for step until Azula took one turn too sharp and Katara's foot came down on her own. "Whoops!" Katara gasped, laughing.
Azula seized her by the hips and lifted her, continuing her steps—though smaller now that she supported Katara. Katara shrieked playfully and held on to her shoulders in a death grip. "Don't drop me!"
"I'm just saving my own feet!" Azula was surprised by the laughter in her own voice. She gave Katara's backside a healthy two-handed squeeze, prompting another shriek. Katara laughed, wriggled, and swatted at Azula's head with one hand, and Azula retaliated by letting Katara slip through her hands, prompting yet another cry.
She quickly encircled her arms to create a steady seat for Katara, and Katara wrapped her legs around Azula's torso. She continued to step, setting her face against Katara's stomach with her back flexed to keep them balanced. She was surprised that she felt so much better than she had only an hour before.
Azula breathed in Katara's scent and said, "I love you."
Katara's fingers brushed through her hair, then tugged insistently on her ear. Azula drew her head back, meeting her consort's eyes. "Put me down," Katara said quietly. "I'm taking you to bed."
It was a command Azula couldn't resist.
There was fire in Azula's veins, need and want tangled in one. She didn't protest when Katara pulled off her clothes and pushed her onto her back in bed. Katara settled over her, still clothed, and kissed Azula until she was desperate for Katara's touch and whispered her needs: "Please, please, please…"
Katara's fingers teased her gently, and Azula lifted her hips with a gasp that Katara muffled with her kisses.
"Inside me," she begged.
"Oh, you do want this," Katara murmured softly. As Azula had pleaded, she slipped inside. She was gentle but firm, exactly what Azula needed.
She moaned when Katara began to rock against her in slow, steady thrusts. She needed this. She needed Katara so much. Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's shoulders and tangled her fingers in Katara's hair. Her hips rocked with the steady rhythm they shared. Katara's mouth—tongue and teeth and lips—was desperate pleasurable distraction on her breasts for long minutes.
Katara drew her mouth away from Azula's body, and her breath settled over Azula's lips. Azula moaned both from Katara's sure touch and with her want for Katara's kiss. Katara settled against her, a welcome weight. The texture of her clothing against Azula's sensitive skin was heady. Her pleasure was building up; she was so close to falling over the edge with the combination of all these stimuli.
"Look at me."
Azula opened her eyes and reached out to cup Katara's face. She looked into Katara's eyes and felt as though she existed on two planes at once: the love in Katara's eyes, and Katara's body giving her pleasure.
"Come for me, baby," Katara whispered against her mouth.
Azula moaned, her hips rolling with Katara's firm touch and their shared fierce pleasure. It was too much all at once. She was afraid of falling, afraid of what would happen when she crested. She depended so much, so much… She needed in a way she'd never thought she would.
In her waking moments, she sometimes wondered when Katara would leave her. But not now. Now, looking into Katara's eyes, seeing her gentle smile, feeling her powerful touch, Azula knew that Katara would take care of her. Katara would be there for her always.
Katara kissed her gently. "Let go. Come for me, baby. I love you."
Azula came with an unconscious cry as her body jerked in deep pleasure. The tension in her chest released, prompting a few gasping sobs into Katara's shoulder even as she shuddered from aftershocks of pleasure. Katara held her close and hushed her gently until she calmed.
When Azula was aware of herself again, she tugged at Katara's tunic. "Quickly."
Katara nodded and rolled away to shuck her clothes unceremoniously. When Katara settled back over her, Azula urged her to climb her body. Katara threw her head back and gasped as she settled over Azula's mouth. Azula wrapped her arms around Katara's hips and reveled in her suppressed cries—still so worried about being overheard by servants, after all this time…
Azula luxuriated in the feel of Katara against her, the shivers and grinds she stimulated as Katara lost some of her control, her musky taste and wet heat, and the feel of Katara's soft breasts in her hands. All too soon Katara shuddered and stilled, giving a soft gasp that Azula loved to hear. Azula made a noise of complaint when Katara pulled away from her mouth a few moments later.
"Mmm…that was good," she murmured, licking her lips smugly.
Katara shakily settled against her side and snuggled close. "Very," Katara agreed with a sigh. Azula turned her head to see Katara studying her intently. Katara met her eyes, and her voice was quiet with truth. "I love you."
Azula ran a finger down Katara's nose, taking in the softness of her features and the gentleness of her eyes. "Thank you for knowing what I need."
That earned a slow smile. Katara pulled Azula close. "Sleep," she said. Azula relaxed into the sheets and her lover and complied.
"Zuzu, what are you holding in your hand?"
Zuko raised his eyebrow. He didn't retract his hand or the hairpiece in it. "A royal crest."
"The crest of the Fire Lord," Azula pointed out slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"Yeah," he said with a particular tone of condescension that Azula was fairly certain she'd taught him. He pulled it off well, coiffed and dressed in full formal wear, wearing his own hairpiece with dignity. Or pretending to.
"I am not the Fire Lord. Why are you giving it to me?"
"Because I'm Fire Lord, and I command you to put it on."
Azula folded her arms and remained silent. She was rapidly losing patience. The morning had been a long one, especially with all the tugging and pulling and fussing and hair wrenching involved with getting dressed and prepped for this damn portrait. She had two more to look forward to in the near future, in a time when she needed to concentrate all her attention on the coming wedding.
"We aren't sitting for this painting until you put it on. If you don't, I'm going to tell Mom you refused to cooperate."
"Really? You've fallen back to 'I'm telling Mommy'?"
Zuko gave her a pointed look. Yes, that was a stupid thing to say; 'I'm telling Mommy' still worked. She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Zuko gave her the hairpiece, and Azula responded by lifting her middle finger. "This doesn't mean I'm taking over your job."
He didn't even pretend that wasn't the whole point of this stupid little exercise. "All I'm asking is that you sit in on a few trade meetings. I thought women would do anything for a hairpiece."
She didn't deign to respond to that worthless statement. She bent her head, and Kota swapped out her hairpieces. The Fire Lord crest was surprisingly heavy. Wearing it now felt like cheating. "If you hadn't realized, I'm a little busy."
"I said a few trade meetings, not a restitution negotiation."
Azula could hardly contain her disgust. She thankfully had never had to sit in one of those meetings, but she knew they lasted days. Demands would creep higher and higher with every concession, but the only chance of not expiring from old age in the meeting was to give concessions. In other words, it was always lose-lose.
"Are we still doing those?"
"We aren't. I am."
"The war ended seven years ago."
"Yeah, well, tell that to all of the Earth Kingdom farmlands Ozai destroyed that still can't grow a weed. Why the hell did you tell him to burn everything?"
Azula focused on her vague embarrassment at the memory instead of the anger Ozai's name invoked in her. "I was speaking figuratively about what it would take to win a war of attrition. Ozai was a little overzealous with his interpretation, but I certainly wasn't going to correct him. I do wonder how he thought he could torch the entire country in half a day when it takes a solid week to traverse the land in war blimps."
Zuko shook his head as he sat down on the waiting chair. "I can't believe I used to think he was smart."
She stood at his shoulder to pose for the painter. Of course the Fire Lord got to sit. The Princess had to stand. It was a symbolic pose that demonstrated Azula stood in support of Zuko and protected his back from his enemies.
From her position, she studied where the shell of his ear was melted into his scalp. Once he'd hidden it in his shaggy hair. Now that he was Fire Lord, he'd let his hair grow out as thick and long as Azula's. It was pulled sharply away from his face, drawing attention to his mottled scar. He wore his scar with pride now, and he had her respect for that.
"You should fire your minister of seas. He's overcharging on tariffs and pocketing the extra money."
Zuko's shoulder twitched. "You know this for sure?"
"Yes." Her new servants were exceedingly useful.
He exhaled slowly. "Any suggestions to replace him?"
"That I can't help with. Perhaps Mai has a suggestion." She said it knowing Mai didn't give a dragon shit about politics. Zuko made a rude noise, and Azula laughed before she could help herself. The painter frowned at both of them. "My Lords, if you would remain still…"
They were quiet for a few minutes before Zuko said, "You and Katara put on a show last night."
She flicked her eyes to his shoulder in surprise. "Put on a show for whom?"
"Oh, basically the whole visiting party. We were having dinner in the gardens. I thought Aang's head was going to pop off when Katara started screaming."
Azula heaved a sigh, only partly for Zuko's benefit. It was a tad embarrassing to realize they'd apparently been visible to a party in Ursa's gardens. Usually no one supped out there; there was little natural light in the evening. Oh well. If she'd provoked the Avatar's anger, it was worth it.
"I didn't know you danced." That was Zuko's dig, probably the only reason he'd brought the whole thing up.
"Precious little else to do, wasting away on Ember Island," she replied dryly. She would not be embarrassed by her stupid big brother. "Apparently it's a new fad among the nobles. There's a dance instructor on Ember Island."
"Really?"
"He makes a living doing it." She left out that she'd helped him make a living. Zuko turned around to give her an incredulous look. She said, "I know. Astounding."
The painter cleared his throat again. "My Lords…"
They resigned themselves to remaining still to get the portrait over with. Still but not silent. She started humming an off-tune variant of a song Zuko hated. He retaliated by clicking his fingernails in a way that made her teeth clench. She sucked her teeth, and Zuko tried to cover the noise by the particularly annoying squeak of his foot in his boot. And so on. Through it all, they remained still for two heavy bell tolls of the great clock in the antechamber.
At the end of it, the painter looked just as relieved as they were to finish with the sitting portion of the portrait.
Afterwards, Zuko motioned to his waiting bodyservant. "Food on a platter for us both. Fruit juice to drink. I will have wine."
"Where will you eat, Fire Lord?" the man asked.
"Bring it here so I may take it where I want to eat." There was some royal command in Zuko's voice. He was finally getting it down after all these years.
A few minutes later, they slipped through the dark passages of the palace to share lunch in Zuko's 'secret' room. Zuko took a hearty bite out of his dumpling and leaned back in his chair. Whatever royalty had been in his posture minutes earlier was gone with that plate of dumplings balanced on his slouching stomach. "Is the coup attempt ready?"
"Yes. Quite. Finally." Azula allowed exasperation to color her voice. "I never expected to have to do all the heavy lifting."
"Are they that stupid?" Zuko's expression abruptly soured when he saw she'd altered the name carved into the arm of his chair to 'Zuzu'.
"Half of them are incompetent and eager. The other half are incompetent and cautious. They're all incompetent and traitors." Azula nibbled at a dumpling to discover it was filled with shrimp. She ate the rest of it in a bite and reached for another. "The plan is about as stupid of one as I've ever heard of; I'm embarrassed to be a part of it. But they should be ready for your wedding."
"The public one, right? Mai doesn't give a crap about it, but she'll never let me touch her again if we screw up the private one."
"Does she know?"
Zuko looked at her expressionlessly. "Does Katara know?"
"Yes, of course, you idi—" She cut herself off when she realized her own question had been exceedingly stupid. She rolled her eyes in reply to his silly sneer. He asked again, "So, definitely the public ceremony?"
Azula waved off his concerns. "Everything will be over and done with by the time you have your private wedding… There is another matter." She motioned for the soy sauce, and she had her brother's attention as he handed it to her. "I've found out about a shadow benefactor. You won't like who it is."
"The Bouli family," Zuko said without missing a beat.
Azula raised an eyebrow, giving him a half-nod to communicate she was impressed. The soy sauce was a sharp salty pleasure on her palate. "Did one of your spies overhear that conversation?"
Zuko was too guileless to lie believably so she trusted his look of surprise. "Conversation? No, my aids found out they've been pumping a lot of money into Ba Sing Se—into a sect that's been pretty adamant about dethroning me—and skimming more off of taxes. They just hid it well." He frowned in vague disappointment. "I thought they were one of my allies. They're funding the coup attempt?"
"I don't know if their money is involved, but they certainly know what's happening. They could be hoping to hedge their bets." Azula cocked her head. "Any special requests as far as they're concerned?"
"As much as I hate that kind of thing, I'd rather deal with them myself. Do you need anything from me?"
"I have everything arranged," Azula replied. "So long as you trust me."
It was meant flippantly, but Zuko was serious in his reply. "Yes, I do."
"Then I must ask something else."
He nodded.
"Your guard should be present. But they should not intervene. Give them strict and quiet orders not to protect you."
After a slight hesitation, Zuko nodded again. "Done."
He might be done, but she wasn't. There was still much to plan in the following week. She would be ready though. She was anticipating it.
Azula kept hoping Katara would say she didn't actually want to sit for their painting. She hoped it through sitting all morning squashed between Iroh and Zuko and Ursa, wanting to murder them all by the end of it. She hoped it as she ate a distracted lunch with her servants, planning and double-checking and making sure every detail was ready for the next day.
She hoped it until she saw Katara waiting for her in their sitting room wearing a beautiful silk robe. It was sharp contrast of white on blue, of ocean and moon and…Katara was exquisite in it. She smiled and blushed when Azula drew up short at the sight of her.
Azula was as surprised by Katara's robes as she was by the robes Katara had ordered for her. Hers were blue as well, but contrasting sharp red on blue: fire and dragons sweeping in a pattern across her body. Another reminder of her failure…another reminder of her maintained lie. At least it was a pretty reminder.
"You may like to see me in your clothing, but I think I like to dress you," Katara said with a teasing smile. She ran a hand along Azula's robed arm and kissed her. They were both careful of their makeup. Katara promised, "I'll try to make this as painless as possible for you."
"My stupid brother won't be there so that's a marked improvement already."
Azula's blood pressure increased now as she remembered Zuko's toe kicking the back of her ankle in rapid, gentle repetition for three hours on end. He always exaggerated what she'd gotten away with as a child, but if there had been any imbalance in their karmas, it was erased by that morning alone. Azula's head had been so hot by the end of it she was sure she might regain her bending just to spontaneously combust.
Ursa viewed family portraits as a commemoration of love and happiness and all of those other silly emotions she touted. What she seemed to forget was the family always came away from sitting for them wanting to kill each other.
Katara wound her arm through Azula's, and they walked down to the airy sun room in the east wing where the painter waited. The painter took one look at their robes and deflated. Azula had absolutely no sympathy for the fact he would have to paint the intricate detail of their clothing; he'd been frightfully slow with his sketches that morning while Zuko tapped out a rhythm on her ankle.
The man gathered himself in an admirable effort and motioned towards the chair he'd set up in the sunlight.
One chair.
Azula's anger from that morning returned twofold.
"Why are there not two chairs?" Azula asked quietly before her temper exceeded her patience. Because Katara was present, she had to give the benefit of the doubt. It was possible the painter wanted one of them to pose at the other's shoulder in symbolic support of the seated individual. That pose was unacceptable, but it didn't carry the same insult as Azula's first impression.
The painter was oblivious to her anger. "The consort shall kneel, of course."
Kneeling... He wanted Katara to kneel at her knees?! That pose was for children, slaves, and concubines. It was not the place of Katara, who was Azula's equal in all things. She turned her naked rage on the painter, and he visibly balked. "Another chair," she commanded quietly.
"Azula, what's so important about a chair?" Katara sounded more shocked than angry. The painter, meanwhile, stood there with his mouth open like an idiot.
"Another chair!" Azula hadn't meant to shout, but her temper was too great to contain her anger. Katara jumped, and the painter lurched away to the corner of the room. He tripped over himself, caught his balance against a chair there, and dragged it with a screech over the wooden floor. He staggered back two steps and bowed.
Azula touched the back of that chair and smoothed her hands over it to sooth herself. She took a long breath to calm her racing heart. She shifted it so that she would sit with her knees against Katara's and pointedly sat in the second chair, not the first.
She didn't release the painter from his bow. His shoulders had begun to tremble.
Katara sat down beside her. Instead of the anger Azula expected, she seemed perplexed. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Azula smoothed her hands down her robes and held her left hand out. Katara took it and gave her a gentle squeeze and a worried smile.
"It's been a long day," Azula said tightly.
She didn't release Katara's hand and didn't deign to turn her eyes to the painter as he backed away. The man trembled unhappily behind his easel, vibrating with the question of whether he could begin or not, but he was too frightened to ask. In the wake of her pointed silence, he began. He said nothing about remaining still or keeping a straight face or their postures, and he was faster for it.
Looking at Katara soothed Azula's foul temper. She pushed the painter from her mind and rubbed her thumb against Katara's hand, coaxing a smile. Azula was able to smile back, and she settled into a much better mood, especially when she thought of the wedding the next day. If all went well, no one would dare speak out against Katara again.
The intimate friends of the royal party gathered for an informal marriage rehearsal that evening. Azula worked through dinner with her servants—everything had to be perfect for the morrow—and sent Katara ahead of her with a promise to make it down at some point. Azula kept her promise, but she arrived so late that she'd missed the actual rehearsal. Everyone was drinking in the gardens in apparent relaxation.
Ursa wasn't pleased by Azula's tardiness or by her casual clothes. She met Azula as she stepped out into the gardens and spoke in sharp disapproval. "You're late."
"My role in this ceremony is minimal. I process in, stand behind Mai, and twiddle my thumbs for as long as it takes the Fire Sage to drone on about the sanctity of marriage. Et cetera ad nauseam." Azula accepted fruit juice from a servant and glanced across the gardens to where Zuko and his Avatar friends were laughing over food and alcohol. Her brother appeared to be miming a royal toast.
Toasting was a pompous custom. Azula would give the final toast of the wedding party to Zuko, and she was still ruminating over how she wanted to say what she needed to. She had other more important things to worry about though.
"This is a party to celebrate Mai and Zuko, and you weren't here! Tell me you've gotten them an appropriate gift."
"Yes, I have a gift prepared. Now that we've agreed I missed the 'celebration', may I go?"
Ursa's expression was dark; she seized Azula's arm. "Come and sit down. That is not a request." She had the nerve to say it when Iroh was obviously dozing on his hand at the table.
"I sat for three paintings, Mom. Please be happy with that." She lowered her voice as she remembered the insult of the afternoon. "Don't hire that painter again."
"What did he do?"
Azula watched Katara laugh at the table and traced the familiar curve of her face and line of her neck with her gaze. "He wanted Katara to kneel."
Ursa's expression softened, and she sighed. She reached out and smoothed Azula's tunic across her shoulders. "You have such fierce loyal pride, sweetie. Did she know what that meant?"
"Did you want me to tell her that he was suggesting she was my slave?" she snapped. Azula knew as soon as she said it that her tone wouldn't be tolerated, but Ursa only said, "I won't hire him again then."
Sokka caught sight of Azula and gesticulated towards the empty seat next to him. "Azula, sparring buddy, come and sit next to me!" He slurred just enough to betray he'd had too much to drink. Over his shoulder, Suki pulled a sour expression. Katara was watching so Azula resigned herself to it. She extricated herself from her mother's grip and approached the table to sit next to him. Sokka immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Let me go of me," she commanded sharply.
He squeezed her. "Aw, come on. We totally bonded."
"We attacked each other with wooden practice swords."
"Yep. And you didn't kill me. Bonding!"
"Azula, if you want to kill him now, you can." Katara giggled across the table. Apparently she'd been drinking too, but she didn't seem as far gone as Sokka. Predictably, the Avatar had taken the seat next to Katara. He was sitting closer than strictly necessary, but Katara leaned on her elbow towards Zuko, who sat on her other side.
"You wound me!" Sokka gasped in sorrow. "That's all I get for being your wonderful protective big brother, huh?"
Azula shrugged his grip off of her gently. "You're going to regret all that alcohol when you're standing in the sun in front of hundreds of nobles tomorrow. Not that you'd be the first person to vomit at the Fire Lord's wedding. There's an old tale about a Fire Lord that vomited on the dais. All his noble subjects were so loyal they mimicked him. It took weeks to clean the temple grounds."
Sokka poked her in the shoulder with a dopey grin. To Azula's surprise, he didn't latch onto her story. "I am totally getting you drunk one of these days. I owe you that since you're basically my sister-in-law now."
"I do not drink," Azula sniffed with utmost dignity. She wasn't sure how to reply to the other aspect of his pronouncement. Across the table, Katara smirked at her. The Avatar had predictably gone still—probably in anger. He scowled down into his glass and then stood up and walked away without a word.
"Who doesn't drink?" Sokka asked. "That makes no sense."
"You're talking to my little sister," Zuko said with a relaxed smile. "Azula doesn't make sense."
Azula sipped her drink and regarded him over the rim of her cup, remembering her annoyance from earlier that day. Time to watch him squirm. "Be careful, Zuzu. I may decide to tell Mom about the one time in your childhood you actually lied to her."
He actually looked alarmed for a moment, coaxing her to jeer at him. How predictable. Abruptly, he scowled at her. "I got punished for so many things you did! Grandmother Ilah's tapestry—"
"You set it on fire."
"You dared me to!"
"And you were stupid enough to take the dare."
He didn't have anything to say to that. "Putting the garden snake in that minister's bed! You were the one who did that, but I got punished for it."
Azula recalled the event and the minister. It was one of few times Zuko had been coaxed into mischief after Ursa's banishment and Ozai's appointment as Fire Lord. He'd probably mainly gone along with it because he hadn't liked the man in question. "You were there and guilty by association."
"Oh, oh, I remember that guy!" Ty Lee leaned across the table eagerly. She clasped her hands in a begging gesture. "Do your impression of him, Princess. Please!"
As a child, she'd loved imitating many of Azulon and then Ozai's ridiculous ministers and councilmen. It was how she'd first learned to judge people's characters: how they spoke, held their faces, gathered their presence, and so on.
After Zuko's banishment, Ozai had caught her at the act. He'd made it clear such silliness wasn't appropriate for the heir apparent to the Fire Nation throne. Azula remembered Ozai's blows and sharp words, and for once felt a rush of rebellious anger towards him. He was no longer a factor in her life; she gave him a mental middle finger as she decided to humor Ty Lee's request. Everyone was drunk anyway; they probably wouldn't remember it in the morning.
Azula rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. "Oh, well, I suppose."
There was a certain technique for a worthwhile impression. Azula rolled her neck, hunched forward, and drew her shoulders tight. She drew her presence down into her crotch, where the minister had carried his. She steepled her fingers—Ty Lee was giggling already—adopted a deadpan expression, and pitched her voice into a nasal imitation of the minister's tones. "Young Printhe Thuko." She cleared her throat gravely as she watched Zuko's face break into a grin. "You thould to apply yourthelf more thudiouthly to your lethonth. Your thithter, the printheth, ith far more theriouth than yourthelf."
This wasn't the first time they'd heard her impression, but Ty Lee and Zuko were laughing just as much as they had as kids. Mai even smiled, though she tried to hide it. Everyone else at the table was staring at Azula like she'd grown a second head—even Katara, who knew her better than anyone else here.
Suki leaned around Sokka to goggle at her. "Okay, that was weird. I don't think I've had enough to drink to start hallucinating. Was that really Azula?"
Azula glanced across the table to Katara, who began to giggle when their eyes met. She turned to Suki and enjoyed Suki's horror as much as Katara's amusement. "Thuki, you muth thtretch your awareneth to the truly experieth the realitieth of the univerthe."
Suki just stared at her. Sokka's gape turned into a broad grin and an exaggerated gasp. He seized Azula and Suki in each of his arms and dragged them into an uncomfortable hug. To Azula's horror, he kissed the top of each of their heads. "I love my family! Katara, why didn't you tell me your girlfriend's so hilarious!"
"Laugh it up. I just used up my allotment of impressions for the next decade," Azula informed Sokka as she pulled away from his grip. "And you've used up all the hugs you're allowed in my lifetime. Kiss me again, and I will murder you."
Zuko wiped his eyes and heaved a few happy sighs as he calmed down. "I'd forgotten about his lisp. He always spit all over us, didn't he? I don't know why Ozai kept him around."
That was simple. "During council meetings, Ozai would put him next to whoever had irritated him last to brave his spit storm. Every councilman kept an extra handkerchief ready just in case."
"He screamed like a little girl when he got in bed with the snake." Zuko still turned his accusation to her. "But that doesn't change the fact that I was the one punished for it."
"Ozai hit me too. Unlike you, I had the decency not to whine about it." Azula moved on before Ursa could predictably divert the conversation to a discussion about how awful Ozai was. "But I was referring to Mom's fire broach."
Ursa straightened, startling Iroh out of his doze momentarily. "My mother's fire broach?"
"I had nothing to do with its disappearance," Azula pronounced, watching with glee as Zuko shrank into his seat. Was he really that scared of Ursa finding out the truth fifteen years after the fact? "Despite my innocence, I was sent to bed without supper, took a healthy spanking, and lost my right to play with my friends for weeks."
"I remember that!" Ty Lee said with a laugh. She draped herself across the table with a groan. "It was so boring playing with just Mai. All she did was make eyes at Zuko the whole time."
Mai sighed and gave a vague eye roll.
Ursa turned to Zuko in apparent disbelief. "No. Zuko, did you really take my fire broach? What did you do with it?"
"I may have accidentally…fed it to a komodo rhino." Zuko winced. A round of snickers resulted.
"It's funny, isn't it? That first whiff of the truth." Azula adopted an airy tone, addressing their mother. "Obedient little Zuzu lied and blamed his poor, innocent little sister for a misdeed that he performed."
"I felt guilty over that for years!" Zuko declared with a laugh.
"You should have. Don't you know lying is a horrible misdeed?"
"You're such a hypocrite! How can you say that with a straight face?"
"I'm a very good liar." Azula's deadpan expression broke into a smirk despite herself.
Zuko groaned in feigned frustration.
Ursa put her face in her hands and began to laugh. When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled with tears. Both Azula and Zuko stilled in instinctual alarm. He gasped, "What's wrong, Mom?"
"I'm glad you two remember the good times together too," she said with a sniffle.
Azula relaxed now that that possible disaster had been diverted. She turned her feigned alarm to Zuko, willing to let go enough to tease. She met his eyes and said, "Zuko, we need to retreat before she demands a family hug."
Zuko played along. "Quick, Mai! Say something about fashion and distract Mom for us!"
"I don't know how it's possible, but you two only get stupider when you're together," Mai muttered. Ursa was still sniffling at them, but she was smiling now.
"I think they're cute," Katara declared, watching Azula across the table with that tender look. Azula gave a mock shudder but offered a smile. She stood. "At that horrifying statement, it's time for me to retire. Good night. Please drink plenty of water and try not to vomit on the dais tomorrow."
"I'll come up in a little while," Katara said. Lurking in the shadows near the table, the Avatar stiffened. Azula wondered if he was ever going to finally confront her and get it over with. She didn't care one way or another, but it couldn't be healthy to carry around that much passive aggression towards one person. Azula gave him a little wave as she walked by.
On her way back to her rooms, Azula was surprised to see a familiar dusty figure walking down the hallway with her fingertips on the wall. Azula knew Zuko had invited her—she'd written the invitation herself—but she'd assumed the earthbender would spurn attending such a formal wedding.
"Toph Bei Fong."
Toph had stopped and turned at the sound of her footsteps, and now she grinned at the sound of Azula's voice. They exchanged metal letters every few months, but Azula hadn't seen her in person in over a year. Toph had put on more weight in muscle and was the embodiment of an earthbender.
"Hey, Princess Snooty-pants. I thought that prim walk was you."
"I do not walk primly," Azula denied, irritated at the thought. "You're a little late for the rehearsal."
"It's a wedding. How hard could it be?"
"Tell that to my mother." Azula flicked her eyes down the hallway to be sure they were alone. She lowered her voice. "Did you get my last letter?"
Toph's face split in a conspiratorial grin. "Yep. My lips are sealed. I'll pretend I'm blind."
"Hilarious," Azula muttered.
Toph punched her shoulder; Azula winced despite herself. "At least I'll have something to look forward to while I suffer through the stupid ceremony." Toph swiveled her head around. "You and Zuko promised me booze if I got here tonight. I demand my booze!"
Azula took hold of Toph's muscled shoulders and turned her around. "Straight down the passageway. Make a left at the first hall, and straight out to the gardens. There you will find drink, drunk, and drunker."
"Aye, aye, Captain Firebitch!"
Azula continued to her rooms and was pleased that her servants were waiting for her. She settled down with them after Kota closed the study door. Sometime during the next few hours, Katara opened the door to Azula's study. The man sitting across from Azula stiffened, then relaxed so that his broad shoulders drooped. He lowered his head and settled back from the candle-lit table.
Katara spared him a curious glance before she turned her eyes to Azula. "Come to bed."
They had been wrapping up anyway. Azula got to her feet and followed her consort into the sitting room and through to their bedroom. As they pulled on their sleeping robes, Katara asked, "Was that a new servant?"
"Yes." Azula settled into bed, pulled her close, and kissed her softly. She was excited about the following day, but her pent up energy faded away as Katara's hands rubbed a soothing pattern on her back. Azula tucked her head against Katara's shoulder and relaxed. Sleep came quickly.
"How do I look?"
"You're beautiful."
"You haven't even looked at me."
Azula stared down at Kota's perfect part as her servant adjusted her black belt so the golden trim was even across her waist. Her trousers were hidden beneath several layers of heavy silk, as was appropriate for the Fire Lord's wedding.
It was a beautiful robe, black silk with gold and red trim detailed into tiny dragons. The dragons were reproduced in great size to sweep across her back and over her shoulders. It fit perfectly, as it should after months of being measured and re-measured by tailors Mai constantly sent down to Ember Island. Azula still suspected most of those visits were purely to annoy her. Ursa would be so pleased to see Azula wasn't tying her sleeves that day.
"Katara, I don't need to look at you to know it's true."
Kota's ears went pink. Interesting.
Azula turned her head to finally look at Katara. For this venue, Katara also wore formal black Fire Nation robes, though the trim was blue and white and the design across her back was elaborate koi. Her hair had been tamed back and up into a tight topknot with a noblewoman's hairpiece made of white and purple gold. It was the perfect combination of Fire Nation and Water Tribe, a sight that made Azula's chest tighten in emotion.
"You're beautiful. It made no difference whether I said it looking at you or not."
"I can't decide if you've flattered me or not." Katara crossed her arms, but her stern expression melted into a smile. She paused when her eyes took in Azula from top to bottom and back again. "Wow."
"I do dress up well," Azula replied as she examined her polished red fingernails.
Katara's expression of appreciation fell away. She rolled her eyes. "I was referring to the lack of sleeve ties," she lied. Her eyes flicked back up to Azula's hairpiece. "How did they dye the gold?"
Azula's hairpiece was also specially made: a triple flame with melded yellow gold and red gold—though it was closer to pink than red because of its purity. No one in the cohort group wore cheap coated zinc hairpieces appropriate for everyday wear. Ursa had vetoed that. Apparently Mai's demand for colored gold stemmed from her spite of Ursa's demands. What resulted was a hairpiece with a pure yellow gold base that was so heavy it required special supports hidden in her hair.
Learning all of this drama in the last few weeks made Azula almost wish she'd been here to see it in person.
"Copper is melded with gold, turning it red. Mai wanted blue gold for your headpiece, but indium would have been outrageously expensive. Instead, they settled with aluminum for the purple color."
"Outrageously expensive?" Katara echoed incredulously. "This outfit is already outrageously expensive. How much more would a bit of gold be? Not that I care one way or another about a hairpiece I'll never wear again."
"Ten grams of blue gold could feed all the mouths of Capital City for a week."
Katara's eyes rounded childishly. It was amusing that she could still be shocked by these things.
"The problem is the rarity of indium; it's only found in small flecks and rarely at that. Copper, aluminum, and silver—which is used for green gold—are common and much cheaper."
"You know some of the stupidest things." Katara looked down at her sleeves in disgust. "I can't believe the waste of money this is."
"Most of it is going to be auctioned after the ceremony and donated to relief funds for the lower class, if that makes you feel better."
Katara actually did look relieved. Azula stepped away from her servant to brush a finger across Katara's jaw and share a smile with her. She didn't lean in for the kiss she wanted; they were both wearing makeup that had taken an hour to be applied and Azula was in no mood to sit through that process again.
She took in Katara as a whole once more and wondered what Katara might wear on her own wedding day—not that it would happen. Not stuffy Fire Nation robes. Azula felt a pang of irritation at her own imagination. Katara wouldn't likely get married in the stuffy heat of the Fire Nation either.
"How long is this going to take?"
If her conspirators did what they were supposed to, the ceremony would end after the vows were complete to avoid requiring a repeat of the ceremony for Zuko and Mai. The ceremony would last through late afternoon, and the feast would continue through the night. The royal party would probably all retire by midnight; Azula planned to be back in bed by then at least. The nobles would probably stay until dawn.
"A few hours for the ceremony, then a lot longer for the feast," Azula replied. She offered her elbow, and Katara drew closer to her with a sigh. They stepped out of their rooms and began the walk down the large corridor of the palace wing.
Katara admitted, "I can't say I'm looking forward to it. At least there's a good breeze today."
It was odd to have a compulsion to kiss Katara's hand. Azula stopped their progress so that she could do so.
Down the corridor, someone made a rude noise. "Can we cut it out with these public displays of affection? My poor eyes can't handle seeing my baby sister in these situations."
"What were they doing?" That was Toph's voice, always a pleasure.
"Tearing each other's clothes off."
Toph snorted. "I'm blind, not stupid, Sokka. Not only would Katara gut her, Azula's too prissy to do that kind of thing in public."
"Shut up, Sokka and you too, Toph," Katara said. Her gaze didn't leave Azula's. Her lips twitched into a smile for some reason. "Just because you two don't have a romantic bone in your bodies doesn't mean my girlfriend isn't allowed to be romantic."
"Was I being romantic?" Azula asked, surprised at the thought. Consort, she wanted to correct, but this was not the time.
Sokka gave a squawk of indignation. "See, Azula doesn't even know she's being romantic!"
Azula glanced at Sokka's companions. Like them, they wore black silk robes with trim and hairpieces colored to designate their origins. The group had dressed up admirably, even Toph Bei Fong, who usually disregarded things like personal hygiene. Suki looked like she was feeling the effects of a hangover; Azula was kind enough not to point it out.
"Good day," she said to them all.
Toph grinned, an expression that clashed sharply with the full makeup she wore. "I got lost again after the party last night. It's hard to navigate this stupid wooden palace, especially after a couple of shots of good fire whiskey. I have to thank whoever it was that was screaming 'Katara, Katara, Katara' last night for orienting me."
She would not blush at the blatant falsehood; Toph would hear it in her voice. "I am, as always, happy to be of service."
The Avatar stiffened but didn't walk away for once. He looked at Katara, who sighed and tucked her hand back into the crook of Azula's elbow. Katara ignored his beseeching look. Azula was tempted to ask him if—Katara yanked pointedly on her arm. Well, it was a fun thought to almost entertain. She supposed it was better to let the Avatar continue his silent treatment. She wondered how many more years this would continue. Hopefully until he was dead and reincarnated into a much more pleasant individual.
Toph turned her head to Azula; she was still grinning. "If you guys ever want some help with that, I'm available. I learn by touch." She wiggled her callused fingers and waggled her eyebrows.
Azula humored the joke, despite Katara's slowly tightening grip on her arm. "If sleeping with you didn't mean I would never sleep with Katara again, I might be tempted. After you were thoroughly scrubbed down of course. I can't imagine what sort of horrible organisms make a home beneath your grubby fingernails."
"I would totally rock your world."
Azula rolled her eyes and clucked sadly. "Toph, that was pathetic. I expected you to try something a little more creative, like some implication that I'm a man. For example: 'I'll make you rock hard.'"
Katara pinched her. Laughing, Toph slung her arm over Azula and Katara's shoulders. Her bicep bunched like iron against Azula's neck. "Stop pinching her, Katara."
Azula was surprised. "How did you know?"
"I heard the silk grind. And you took a little breath, Firebitch. Like this." Toph gave a soft little sigh from her nose. "I'm assuming that was in pain."
"Toph," Katara said sharply.
Toph's sightless eyes widened; she turned a shit-eating grin to both of them. She slapped Katara hard enough across the back that Azula had to hold on to her to keep her from falling. "Loosen up, Katara. I was just fucking with you. Figuratively. I wasn't kidding though; I'm available to do it literally too."
Azula could swear she heard Katara's teeth grind.
"So are there seriously no chairs for us?" Sokka asked quickly. His voice was overly loud and provoked a wince from Suki. If he was trying to ward off Katara's temper, he managed. Azula was almost disappointed. "Toph, can you fashion up some for us when we get out there? The temple steps are made of stone, right?"
"I'm under strict orders not to earthbend. Sorry."
"Since when are you scared of Zuko?"
"I'm not scared of that pansy. Mai was the one who threatened me. I don't want to get on that woman's bad side. She might behead a chicken skunk and put a curse on me."
As they walked down the wing, Azula noticed a servant loitering in the shadows. She extricated herself from the happily chattering group and motioned them on. Katara gave her an odd look but acquiesced without comment. Azula waited until they were out of sight to speak to the man. "I trust you're prepared."
"We know everyone by sight, Princess. We are prepared."
Azula settled her arms behind her back and raised her chin to give her last orders. "No casualties."
"No, Princess. We will be discreet."
"I don't want discretion."
"We will be discreet until your signal."
She gave him a slight nod, and he bowed back. She saw the flash of his green eyes and the coil of braid that slipped loose from his bun. She smiled.
Heat shimmered off of the packed earth and dry stone in clear waves. It was softened by the faint breeze that was blowing in from the bay. Azula bore the brunt of the heat up on the stone dais of the Fire Temple where she stood with the rest of Mai's numerous cohorts. It wouldn't be so miserable for Azula if she could still bend the heat from beneath her robes.
Azula kept her eyes on the crowd and counted off the noblemen who were sworn to strike: thirteen men. It was a fortuitously lucky number. Her own presence turned that lucky number into a very unlucky one. It was only fitting.
The old sage droned on and on, reciting the marriage sacrament of the Fire Lord in the old language. Clearly he wasn't elected to his post for his oration skills. Azula turned her attention to her brother. He was apparently too busy staring into Mai's eyes to pay attention to the coup attempt at his own wedding. His face broke into a half smile, and Mai's shoulders shifted just slightly. They were cutting up. Juveniles.
Katara stood beside Azula, next in line of Mai's cohorts because of her consortium to Azula. To the other side of Katara, Ty Lee fidgeted. If not for their recent union, Katara would be standing on the other side of the dais as part of Zuko's cohorts. This was a better place; Katara would have a clearer view of the event.
Azula turned her eyes back to the crowd. The nobles were growing restless: her traitors and the multitude that attended the ceremony. Most of them were probably thinking of the lavish feast that would follow the vows—and the barrels and barrels of wine, whiskey, and beer awaiting them. Her nobles were thinking of blood.
Zuko's personal guards stood under the eaves of the surrounding temple wings, armed with bow and arrow and spear. There were more guards at the edges of the crowd as well. There were also full platoons from the navy that were posted around the walls of the temple and in the streets.
Citizens of the Fire Nation had arrived in droves to Capital City to celebrate the Fire Lord's marriage. The troops had been placed to keep order especially with the masses of people who waited at the temple walls to catch sight of the Fire Lord and his new bride. All pilgrims would be fed by the crown today, and Mai had ordered thousands of small rice-paper cards with generic thankful messages to be passed out to everyone who was in the royal district that day. The cards were in part designed to allow poorer travelers to make some coin back for their journey, but they could also be kept as household treasures. It was a nice gesture, one that hopefully would become custom with Zuko's progeny.
It was no wonder this was the most expensive Fire Lord marriage in recorded history. Maybe the money was a waste in one sense, but the people needed this as a symbol of hope after the shocking depression and upheaval that had rocked the Fire Nation after the war ended.
This ceremony would mark several new beginnings: first a marriage. The second beginning would be a failed coup. Azula shivered in anticipation and quickly calmed herself.
Another fifteen minutes of droning chants, then finally the Fire Sage murmured the age old question—first in the ancient language, then in the universal one: "In all our fealties: man to woman, woman to man, man to lord, and lord to Fire Lord, we must realize that Fire Lord is a title bestowed by the old gods, but it may be taken away by mortals. Any such mortal here should declare himself now and stand to take such a claim away from this Fire Lord."
Azula's heart thundered in her ears as she reached into her wide sleeve, curled her fingers around the handle of her dagger, and drew it with a sweet rasp of metal. Beside her, Katara gave a muted gasp.
Her nobles burst through the crowd, knives unsheathed and flaming, Lam at their head.
Maybe if Azula hadn't lied, if she could still bend, if she had taken Zuko's guard as her own, their ploy would work. She would take two steps and plunge her fire-caressed dagger into Zuko's chest and start a war. But in that scenario, it would have worked only because she made it work. These men were fools to think for a moment that she would share a coup with them.
Azula opened her fingers, and her dagger clattered to the stone.
Twenty-two Dai Li agents, unmistakable in their garb, burst through the stone steps and seized the usurpers before they'd gone more than three strides towards Zuko.
In that time, not one of Zuko's many powerful friends had moved to form a defense. It had happened quickly enough that Azula had started and finished the action on her own terms. Exactly as she'd hoped.
What a fierce victory. It was unfortunate that it had to all happen so quickly. The nobles were murmuring in surprise, but they hadn't quite figured out what had happened. Her silly little traitors were just realizing the truth of it themselves as Azula's Dai Li stripped them of their knives and cuffed them in stone. Azula smiled sharply at Lam, who looked back at her in horror. Tazu wouldn't meet her eyes; he was sobbing with his head hanging low. They knew they were defeated and didn't struggle.
I am a dragon. Azula felt the truth of her claim then and let them see it in her face.
The leader of the Dai Li, her own Fung Tao, stepped before Azula, saluted her, and went on one knee. He took her knife in his hand and presented it to her, handle first. As she'd commanded, he ended the nobles' uncertainty with his loud report. "The usurpers are apprehended, Princess; their coup has been crushed."
The dais was designed for voices to carry, and his words were audible to every noble there. The crowd began to murmur furiously as they realized what had just happened. Azula imagined that every set of eyes in the Fire Temple courtyard was focused on her. She smiled fiercely as she accepted her dagger and slipped it back into her sleeve. She raised her voice so it could be heard as well. "Thank you, Captain Tao. Escort these traitors of the Fire Nation to the dungeons where they will await hanging."
The crowd's murmur raised to a din as Zuko pushed past Mai to stand next to her. "Dai Li? Really?" His tone was sharp and lowered to prevent it from echoing; he made no attempt to hide his exasperation from her even as he presented a calm face for the crowd.
On the dais, Toph Bei Fong had begun to laugh boisterously, and murmurs finally spread among their powerful allies. Zuko's gaze flicked over his shoulder towards them; he realized he would have to control the situation from both ends. He raised his hands to the crowd and adopted the voice of royal command. "Noblemen, everything is under control. Please proceed to the feast!"
The nobles were abruptly unwilling to leave for the waiting feast and alcohol as they watched the traitors escorted across the temple grounds by men clad in Earth Kingdom green. After all, scandal was their favorite dish. Azula found it rather sweet as well.
Mai slipped between Zuko and Azula. Her expression was far from displeased. If Azula thought she was actually capable of the emotion, she would have assumed Mai was happy. "You do have a talent for making life more interesting, Azula." Her sharp nails caressed Azula's neck, and she pressed a kiss to Azula's cheek, purely for the benefit of the watching nobles.
Azula couldn't stop the smirk that Mai began to mirror. "Your pleasure is my pleasure, Fire Lady."
"Did all of you know about this?" Ursa demanded in a hiss. From the look on Zuko's face, she'd pinched his arm. Ursa's reaction was probably exactly what was causing Mai's smirk. Azula had just completely overshadowed a ceremony Ursa spent almost a year planning. Iroh was less transparent; he wore a serious expression. His eyes sought Azula's, but she didn't return his look.
Katara abruptly seized her hand. By her grip, she wasn't exactly pleased either. Azula had expected Katara's irritation, but she hoped it would be a transient emotion. Azula turned her head to judge Katara's expression when one of the traitors began to shout and struggle.
All but one of the traitors was quiet. They kept their heads down and faces turned away from the crowd though they had no hope of remaining anonymous. All attempted some measure of dignity except Lam—young, foolish, conceited Lam. He struggled against the stone bindings around his arms and shouted over his shoulder. His words rang across the courtyard and silenced the crowd, and he belched red fire with them.
"Coward! Fucking whore! Traitor! Azula!" The last shout was the rudest, in Azula's opinion. This man had no right to use her name without title. She could kill him with a twitch of her fingers, but he didn't deserve such an easy death.
Her Dai Li captain, Fung Tao, frowned. "Shall I have him gagged, Princess?"
She flicked her fingers in decline, anticipating the rage she could now provoke. She raised her voice to address Lam. "You call me a traitor, Lam, grandson of Lam, when it is you who would so attempt to murder my brother, on his wedding day."
His face twisted in rage. "I demand Agni Kai to right this wrong! You, Azula, betrayed us!"
Zuko's voice was strong as it boomed out along the dais. "You don't have that—"
Azula's voice was stronger. "I accept your challenge!"
-TBC-
AN: Lee, I wanted to thank you and respond to your review with an agreement about Katara's ignorance of Azula's bending (or lack thereof); I didn't write that well. Hopefully I can address that either with some edits (I added a bit to Ch8) or in the next chapter. If I manage to present the situation a bit more believably, you've made the story better so thank you. :)
And again, thanks to everyone for your thoughts.