Disclaimer: I do not own A:TLA, or this song. Anything like ...this... is a part of the song, but still happens in the story. The story parts are mine.

The Soldier came knocking upon the Queens door…

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Zuko, a high-ranking officer in the Queen's army stood at the door of her palace of ice.

A servant opened the tall door.

"I have business with the queen," he said before the servant could say anything, and he pushed his way past.

He walked down the grand entrance way to the ice throne the queen sat upon, brown skin standing out among the blue of the ice.

She was like an ice sculpture, this Queen. Very beautiful, very still, very cold. Distant. Unmovable in more ways than one. Her eyes were as cold as the landscapes of her country and her palace, matching in color as well as tone. The way a Queen would be.

He spoke.

…he said "I am not fighting for you anymore."

And the Queen, she had seen his face someplace before…

A flashback starts.

"I'm not fighting for you anymore."

A young Katara stares up defiantly at her brother the prince. He crosses his arms.

"And why not? You'll do what I tell you. I'm Crown Prince. I'm gonna be King someday, so you might as well get used to it."

"No! If you're gonna be King someday, Sokka, then you have to fight your own battles! Kings aren't cowards! Look at Daddy!"

Sokka was getting mad now.

"Look at Daddy?! What do you think happened to him?! Mom died because Dad wasn't hiding! Mom died because Dad—"

"No! Stop it, stop it! It's not Daddy's fault Momma died! No!"

Katara ran away from the words of her brother, poking at wounds that had yet to scab over, let alone heal and scar like his had.

Sokka found his legs frozen to the ice, unable to move.

Katara ran and ran until she was huddling under a snow bank in her parka, slowly getting colder and colder.

Suddenly a warm presence hovered above her. She looked up.

A young boy with the palest skin she had ever seen was sitting on the top ledge of her snow.

"So, who're you hiding from?"

She blinked and rubbed at her freezing tears.

"Huh?"

He got down and sat next to her. He had on a red parka with a Water Tribe emblem on it. He was one of the immigrant's descendents from the Fire Nation from before the war.

"Well, you're crying, you're obviously not running away because you have no food, and you came to a secluded place where no one would easily be able to find you. So who're you hiding from?"

She blinked with wide eyes, amazed that he could deduce that at a glance. She sniffed.

"My brother."

"Hah!" Why was he laughing?

"Why-What's so funny about that? Are you hiding from your brother too?"

He shook his head.

"Nah, I'm hiding from my sister. I swear, she is a devil-woman."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

They turned to look at the endless falling snow across the white plain, the lingering sound swallowed and silenced by the snow. After a while, he spoke again without looking at her.

"You know, hiding won't fix anything."

She turned toward him. His golden eyes were still following the drifting flakes.

"So what do you think I should do?"

He turned his head back towards her.

"Fight it. If they fight back, then fight harder. Don't let go of yourself. At least, that's what Uncle says. But he's crazy."

The boy winked, and got up to leave.

She just stared up at him.

"Remember that for me."

And he left.

A few hours later Katara felt the cold catching up to her, and she walked back home to the palace on the hill, kicking herself for not learning that boy's name.

The flashback ends.

"I see."

Her voice was high and commanding, the way a Queen's voice would be.

She stood.

…And slowly, she led him inside…

She stood, stately, slowly, and began to walk toward a hallway. Zuko fell in step behind her.

He spoke.

…he said "I've watched your palace up here on the hill, and I've wondered who's' the woman for whom we all kill, but I am leaving tomorrow, and you can do what you will. Only first I am asking you, why?"

She was outraged, and understanding, and heartbroken at his words. But she didn't show it. She had to be the perfect Queen. The perfect Queen of a corrupt court.

The war had been going on for a century. No one really knew how it started. And because of that, no one really knew how to end it. It was terrible for both sides. Each had suffered the losses of war, men, young and old, drafted into the army at 18, sometimes younger.

After her father died, Sokka was made King at the age of 19, not drafted because of his status of Crown Prince, much to his displeasure. At 20, he was broken. His wife was dead, the court was merciless, and so he left to fight at the front lines. They only brought back his armor, dented and bloody and scorched. It was all that was left.

And so at 18, Katara was made Queen. And she had to be perfect. If she wasn't perfect, she was dead. If she wasn't perfect, the court would take her country. If she wasn't perfect in the middle of this war, she had lost it. She had to be not just the ruler, she had to be the country. Not by personal choice, but for her people. And she had been good at it for the last two years. So when this Soldier told her he was leaving, he wasn't just leaving the country.

He was leaving her.

And this wasn't just the imaginings of a power mad Queen, angry this Soldier was leaving her for another woman (for that is how other Qeendoms are viewed), this was the woman inside of her heartbroken that the love of her life was leaving her.

Because that's what he was. Ever since that day on the ice.

…Down the long narrow hall he was led, into her room with her tapestries red…

Red tapestries? He wondered at the significance. A constant reminder of the war even within her own palace? A constant reminder of the terrible state of the country? A lost love? A lost battle? Or maybe she just liked the color red.

…and she never once took the crown from her head. She asked him then to sit down…

Zuko looked at her, really looked at her. And he saw the youth in her face, and the age in her eyes, and was suddenly reminded of a little girl, crying in the snow. Why he was reminded of this, he wasn't entirely sure, but soon saw it in her eyes. That girl in the snow had the exact same eyes, haunted by loss, and aged as all were by the toll of the war. He knew every time he looked in a mirror or into the dark gray waters in his own reflection. He knew every time he saw the families without any men, the Soldiers he fought with, the Soldier s he saw dying.

He spoke.

…"I see you now, and you are so very young, but I've seen more battles lost than I have battles won, and I've got this intuition, says it's all for your fun, and now will you tell me why?"...

She was hurt. Fun? Fun? Did he think this war was fun for her? She lost all of her family to this war, and he dared to think she thought it fun?

…Well the young Queen, she fixed him with an arrogant eye….

So she fought, like he told her to in the snow all those years ago.

… She said, "You won't understand and you may as well not try."

But her face was a child's, and he thought she would cry, but she closed herself up, like a fan…

He then thought about what he had said. All for your fun…She had lost a brother and a father and a mother. He was wrong to say that. He should apologize. But then he thought about what she had said. You won't understand, and you may as well not try. He had lost a sister and a father and a mother and an uncle he loved very much to this war. He does understand, possibly more than she does, so he would not apologize. She was wrong to say that.

…and she said "I have swallowed a secret burning thread. It cuts me inside, and often I've bled."

And he laid a hand on top of her head, and he bowed her down to the ground…

Zuko knelt down in front of the Queen, his left hand on her head, his other resting on his knee. Tentatively, he reached up with it and placed it on her cold cheek. It was a slight movement, but he felt it all the same as the pressure on his hand increased slightly. She was leaning into his burning touch.

She was a tired figure underneath it all. A sad thing for one only about two years younger than himself.

... "And tell me how hungry are you, how weak must you feel, as you are living here alone, and you are never revealed. But I won't march again on your battle field…"

He slipped his hand from her cheek, her head falling forward a little with the sudden lack of support, and he grabbed her arm and slid an arm around her waist, and lifted her up.

…and he took her to the window to see…

She was sad. Not affronted. Not offended. Just sad. They looked out at the landscape.

…and the sun, it was gold, though the sky, it was gray. And she wanted more than she ever could say. But she knew how it frightened her, and she turned away, and would not look at his face again…

Zuko let her slip from his grip as she turned her back to him. They both wore the same expression. A sad but accepting, passive face. He talked to her back, knowing she heard him.

…and he said, "I want to live as an honest man, to get all I deserve and to give all I can,"…

He came closer, and rested his hands on her trembling shoulders.

..."and to love a young woman who I don't understand,"…

She closed her eyes against it. She didn't want him to tell her. Not when he was leaving her forever. It would make the pain that much worse. Please don't let it be me. Please don't let it be me. Please don't let it be me. Please let it be me…

…"your Highness, your ways are very strange."…

She could barely keep the tears from flowing as he laid his forehead on the back of her head, warm breath on her neck, causing her trembling to become violent.

…but the crown, it had fallen, and she thought she would break, and she stood there, ashamed, of the way her heart ached…

She stood straight, and walked toward the door.

"Please follow me," she said in a choked voice. He nodded. They walked for a while. Then he spoke.

"Hey."

She looked back at him as they stopped at the door.

"Fight it for me. If they fight back, fight harder. Don't let yourself go. At least, that's what I say. But I'm crazy." And he winked at her. "Remember that, for me?"

And she nearly thought that was her undoing.

… and she took him to the doorstep and she asked him to wait. She would only be a moment inside…

She couldn't do it. But she had to. She had to be the perfect Queen. A tear slipped from her eye, and she rubbed it away as quickly as possible. Her mask couldn't break.

He knew it was the end. He knew the moment he stepped through the doors. He knew the moment he saw her trembling, the moment he touched her cheek. It was the end. He smiled for the first time in ages. He knew that eventually she would come to him. He would wait forever until that time. He refused to leave that place between the worlds until she was walking with him into the realm of spirits.

…Out in the distance her order was heard, and the Soldier was killed, still waiting for her word. And while the Queen went on strangling in the solitude she preferred, the battle. Continued on…

Song: The Queen and the Soldier by Suzanne Vega

Sniff. So sad. Sister dear gave me the general storyline for this one, and I added my own parts into it. This is the longest one yet that didn't feel forced or artificial. Please review. (no exclamations for this one. Too sad.)