Hard Battle

"What do you mean you didn't expect this many?!" Zuko screamed over the shrill war cry of innumerable fangirls inexpertly brandishing knives, clubs, bo staffs and other assorted weapons ranging from ridiculously huge blades that could only possibly be for decoration, to rubber replicas of traditional weapons likely bought at some fan convention. It didn't matter that they couldn't fight, though—the invasion force was outnumbered ten to one. They'd be smothered to death by overzealous fans.

Azula grunted as she let go another sizzling lightning bolt, clearing the path ahead toward the old Kyoshi dojo. But even as the fangirls—and several fanboys—fell, yet more flowed into the void like sand rushing to fill footsteps in the desert. "I issued a little challenge…I didn't want this battle to be too easy." She shot a torrent of blue fire over her brother's shoulder. Several girls went up in gleeful, squeeing flames. They danced away, seeming strangely overjoyed to have been touched by the princess's deadly fire. "Who could have predicted this kind of turnout?"

"I could've!" Zuko shouted back angrily. "Why do you think I banished all fangirls from the capital! You know I hate fangirls! You think I'm afraid of them because I don't like women?"

"Well—"

"Shut up!" He shot a series of fireballs at the girls rushing them from the left. They scattered, but were quickly reforming their ranks. "They're mindless, fanatical zombies, Azula! If we don't disperse them soon, they'll tear us apart!"

The banshee squeal of a thousand teenaged—and some not-so-teenaged—fans rose as Jet swung high over their heads, tethered by a sturdy grappling rope, and landed between Zuko and his sister. His hook swords clashed with the flimsy cardboard replicas of some look-alike fan, and he kicked the cosplayer back into the crowd. "Honey, are you okay?" he asked Azula.

"Don't 'honey' me, right now," she ground out, concentrating on blasting a trio of overweight nerds waving printed out fanfiction at her. The massive manuscripts disintegrated into puffy ash, but the nerds just kept coming. Zuko intercepted them with a roar, incinerating the crazily smiling creeps with a ferocious wave of fire.

"Aang!" he yelled. "Where the hell is Aang?"

But the Avatar had problems of his own. Scores of fangirls were clinging to Appa's fur like stubborn sky-bison leavings, dragging the beast down out of the sky as more and more of the fans clambered on.

"Get off! Get off, all of you!" Aang shouted. But it was too late. Appa plunged to the ground, moaning all the way. He hit, a massive grinding, groaning noise shuddering through the air as rocks and dirt churned up along the plowed path. Bodies in fan bliss lay scattered around, roiling in their ecstasy after touching the Airbender's beloved spirit guide.

Aang levered himself up on his elbows, rubbing his spinning head. But before he could even get his bearings, someone screamed, "Dogpile!" The Avatar was almost instantly buried in fans. Girls and boys flung themselves onto the massive human mountain with mindless abandon, chanting, "Avatar state! Avatar state!"

"They're insane!" Zuko cried, shuddering in horror. But there was nothing he could do for his poor, crushed friend.

"They're fans," Azula replied grimly. "I thought a few dozen would show up. The locals, you know. Just enough to provide a bit of a challenge."

"This is more than a challenge," Jet gritted, punching yet another cosplayer in the face. "Someone's been feeding these guys something fierce."

"Or denying it to them." Azula shot a disparaging look at her brother. "You can't not feed the fans, Zuzu. Just because your life is all nice and tidy after winning the crown and saving the world, doesn't mean you can just leave the fans and pretend they're happy, too. They want more." She fried a slavering fangirl. "They always want more. Why do you think they love Fadmon so much? You gotta give them what they want!"

"They wanted me!" Zuko screamed. He kicked a tiny fangirl, punting her through the trees, and spun toward his sister in anger. "What was I supposed to do? Just let them have their way with me?"

"Yes!" She churned the air, whipping one arm out. A bright blue ribbon of heat and sparks sizzled through the air and skewered five girls who'd been about to pounce on Zuko. They fell to the ground, giggling.

"So, what, this is my fault now? I wasn't the one to issue a challenge to a bunch of mindless fans!"

"And I wasn't the one to declare war against an otherwise harmless bunch of fanatics!"

"They're not harmless!" Zuko shouted in anger. "You think it's just me they want? It's not! It's all of us! They want every little scrap of our lives! They want to dominate and control us, destroy everything about our way of life. First it'll be me, then you, all our friends, our family, our neighbors—" He punched a fangirl who'd broken through the lines in the face. The crunch of his knuckles made him hiss and shake his mangled hand. "They'd rewrite our history if they could! I mean, have you read any of that fanfiction?"

Just then, a pair of fangirls rushed them, tumbling Ty-Lee style in a series of arcing limbs, martial arts kicks, and generally useless over-the-head flourishes that looked pretty, but weren't designed to be anything but aesthetic. But because of their unpredictable forms and nonsensical stances, none of the three could land a blow.

They got closer. Too close. Azula flinched back, afraid for her baby and oddly disturbed by the weirdly mesmerizing steps of the dance.

"Azula—!" But Jet had been diverted by a trio of fanboys. He couldn't get to the princess in time.

Her limbs froze, paralyzed by the bizarreness of the dancing duo. For the first time in battle, the Firebender was suffocating with fear. She screamed as the fangirls reached for her with grubby hands—

A bolt of shining white flashed across her vision. The tumbling twins staggered back, crying in dismay as bloody streaks painted their faces. An eerie yowl pierced the air, emanating from the lightning ball of…fur?

"Kisu!" Azula exclaimed as she found her voice. She'd entirely forgotten about her precious feline in the heat of the battle.

The cat's eyes glowed with dark menace as he assessed his foes. He knew those moves—they'd been ingrained into his blood as a kitten, a form as ancient as his noble race. And these two were defiling it with their inexpert fumbling!

How dare the fangirls mock the sacred Dancing Kitty-Cat!

He launched himself into a berserker rage at the girls, who ran screaming as teeth and claws encased in shining hand-stitched chain-mail armor dug into their scalps, their skin, tearing and gouging.

By the hairballs of his ancestors, Kisu swore, he'd show the world he was no pussy!

"Kisu!" Azula screamed as the cat was swallowed up by the fray. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He'd saved her…but would he be able to save himself? The poor, helpless beast…at the mercy of the fangirls.

Despair clutched her heart.

"We can't keep this up," Jet declared tersely, making it back to her side with her brother. "We have to get to the Fadmon HQ and take the head off the prickle-snake. Maybe then the fans will disperse once we tell them the battle's done."

"I'll go with Jet," Azula volunteered, eyes dry, her fervor renewed by her beloved Kisu's sacrifice. "Zuko, you and Aang and the rest need to hold the crowd off. We need a distraction!"

"Short of stripping naked, I don't think…" he trailed off. His eyes widened. "Wait, what am I thinking? Of course I have a distraction!"

Jet raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna strip naked?"

The Fire Lord's eyes flattened. "Only if the situation becomes desperate. But I have just the thing for now."

They separated. Zuko weaved through the throng, shoving would-be adversaries out of his path and frying those who were more than eager to get their mitts on him. He headed toward the mothership.

"Bring out the crates!" he shouted at the guards, who were holding off the girls surging around him.

They nodded. One hit a button while the other turned a crank, which lowered a platform beneath the grounded zeppelin's gondola. Two large crates rested on the wide metal platform, each shuddering as something within paced and pawed restlessly.

Zuko leapt on top of the massive boxes and unbolted the latches. The heavy wood doors fell open with a resounding boom. Two dark shadows with fire-bright eyes stirred and blinked back the daylight. Deep, menacing growls reverberated through Zuko's stomach as the creatures smelled the carnage all around them.

"Maiko! Kataang!" Zuko barked. "Attack!"

The two-headed viper dogs leapt out of their prisons, frothing around the mouth, their forked tongues scenting the air for prey. Three-inch yellowing talons dug into earth. The long, rigid spines around their hackles raised at the rich aroma of fear.

The nearest fans screamed and scattered as the beasts advanced, snapping at the slower fans, lunging at the ones that dared coo, "Here, puppy, puppy…" and turning them into minced viper-dog chow.

Maiko, a dreadfully hideous black beast who oozed despair and malice, snarled at group of girls wearing "ZUTARA FOREVAH!" T-shirts. They backed up against a large boulder, still giggling that Zuko—THE Zuko—had ordered his pet monster to devour them. The bitch took one flat-eyed look at the T-shirts and vomited acid bile over the fangirls.

Kataang, the smaller and "cuter" of the two creatures, seemed to prefer to play with his food before eating it. A Zutarian in full red-and-blue armor dangled from his jaws as the beast skipped about, throwing his spiny mass left and right with no regard for the feelings or safety of his enemies or allies. He was really quite silly, actually—a child's morbid imaginings brought to life, his fur striped with bright, gaudy colors, the voracious grin on his face almost childlike…except for the blood staining his grizzly maw.

Azula watched the massacre unfold in awe. She was impressed. Zuzu had actually managed to breed something useful. No offense to his coming brood, of course.

But they didn't have time to watch the monsters rampage through the Fadmon army. They had a mission to accomplish.

"Let's go," she urged, and she and Jet raced toward the dojo.

"Who'd be dumb enough to give the old man that much brandy?" Sokka whispered, keeping his head ducked beneath the buffet in the dining room where they'd hidden from the rampaging Ozai. "Did they learn nothing from the wedding? Everyone knows he'll drink as much as he can so he can purge the Firebending suppressant from his system."

Another loud boom had Sokka, Toph and Katara all cowering. Beyond the dining room doors, the ex-Fire Lord was terrorizing the palace staff, burning down the sunny yellow and lavender decorations adorning each half of the estate. Black scorch marks singed the crumbling walls where Toph and Ozai had duked it out for about five minutes before the Earthbender realized she couldn't compete with the inebriated and entirely unpredictable Firebender.

"Damn Drunken-fist style," she complained sullenly. "Why did it have to be Drunken-fist? Why couldn't it have been Completely-predictable-and-easy-to-counter-fist?"

"And speaking of predictable, where's Iroh?" Sokka asked irately.

"Probably doing the same thing we…we ahhhrrrggg…" Katara groaned.

"Are you okay?" her brother asked.

She regained herself, breathing deeply. "I'm fine…I just have a cramp from squatting here for so long." She shifted her weight and slid down. "What am I doing hiding here? I told Zuko I could take his dad on if things got out of hand."

"And what were you going to do? Nag him to death?" Sokka scowled. "You're in no condition to fight, Katara! And neither is Azula, but I wasn't about to stop her. I told Zuko I'd take care of you if something like this did happen, and there is no way I'm letting you face off with His Flaming Majesty!"

Another loud crash, this time closer.

"If you're gonna fight him, you're going to need water, and a lot of it," Toph said, ignoring Sokka's concern. If Katara said she could fight, she didn't doubt her friend, pregnant or not.

Katara stared at her, eyes widening suddenly. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

Toph couldn't see it, but her friend's face went ash-white. She did, however, feel the sudden panicked lurch of her heart as it began jack-hammering in her chest.

"What do you mean?" she reached out and touched Katara's stomach. "What's wrong?"

"My water just broke."