Imperium
The young man stood on the cliff overlooking the massive walled city, his golden eyes inscrutable. His face was unscarred, in spite of years grinding out mile by mile for his father's campaign, carrying the banner of the Fire Nation deep into the heart of the Earth Kingdom. He sighed. Soon, this would all be over. Once the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, once the Earth Kingdom had been brought to heel, he would finally be able to go home. He'd lost more than enough of his innocence already, and the men and women under his command had lost far more than that.
"Zuko?"
He turned at the sound of his name, his plate armor grinding slightly in protest. He needed to have it seen to.
"Yes, Azula?"
"It's four in the morning. You should be asleep."
"So should you."
She chuckled.
"I'm not the one who's going to be leading the charge tomorrow. That honor falls to you, brother."
The tone of her voice didn't escape Zuko's notice— she'd been his second-in-command for far too long to let something like that slip by.
"And you wish that wasn't the case?"
Azula's chuckle turned into a short laugh, before dying completely.
"Come now, Zuko," she said disdainfully, walking closer to her brother. "I think we've passed that point, don't you? There might have been a time when I'd have considered knifing you in the back and taking the glory for myself, but why should I bother now? The North fell to me, I've had my Triumph. This is your time to shine, not mine. Father will probably make you a full General after this, I'd assume. And the war will finally be over."
Zuko exhaled, feeling a weight bear down on his chest. Azula's expression softened ever so slightly, a look that only Zuko ever saw. It was a look she'd shown him for the first time in the North, when their roles had been reversed, when after a night of drinking the topic of conversation had turned to their mother.
It was not a conversation they'd had since. But some old scars had been healed that night, for the greater good of the Fire Nation.
"You don't think we're doing the right thing," she said piercingly, "do you?"
"I believe in our cause," Zuko said, meaning it. "I believe in the glory of the Fire Nation. I believe in peace, through force if necessary. But this? How many innocent people are we going to burn tomorrow, Azula? What glory is there in that?"
"We've been waging this war for five years, Zuko," Azula said, coming close enough to put her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Kuei and the Council of Five have had every opportunity to surrender. Over and over again, you've asked them to do exactly that, but their pride stopped them. They have almost no independent fiefdoms left outside of Ba Sing Se.
"Anyone who hasn't yet surrendered or fled into the newly occupied territories is in the capital by choice. They've accepted the risks. Their lives are their own to throw away, if they wish."
Zuko was silent for some time, long enough that Azula began to worry he was about to say something truly foolish.
"Captain Reika's expecting," he said at last, the undercurrent of affection in his voice that he reserved for soldiers under his command. "If we turn around and start heading back to the Fire Nation by the end of the week, she should be able to give birth at home."
"You're relieving her of her duties, I hope?"
"Of course," Zuko answered with a nod. Then he turned to face Azula, his eyes full of quiet pain.
"If something happens to me tomorrow," he said, "get them home. Get them all home."
"I will," Azula said seriously. "After I finish burning those bastards to the ground. But if you die here, I'm pretty sure Father would throw me in the dungeons for three months, at best." A look of loathing flashed onto her face, but died again just as quickly. "So… try not to?" she finished, smiling weakly. It was an awkward gesture, one that hadn't seen much use. But it raised Zuko's spirits, and he pulled his sister into an embrace.
"I'll try," he said. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."
Azula smiled against his shoulder.
"Regardless, I'm not the one you should be promising anything to," she said. "I'd be more worried about dying on her than dying on me, Zuko."
Zuko stepped back, his smile warped into something bittersweet.
"I think she'd be happy to see that, honestly. And considering the circumstances of our… arrangement, I wouldn't blame her."
"Zuko," Azula said seriously, putting both of her hands on her brother's shoulders and looking him in the eye, "she's a Bloodbender. You really don't think that if she'd wanted you dead before now, she'd have done it? How many full moons have there been since you brought her out of the North, hmmm?"
Zuko sighed, silently conceding the point.
"Go talk to her," Azula said, her voice soft again, almost tender. "You look like you need her more than you need me, anyway."
Zuko nodded, giving his sister a small smile before turning and walking back towards his tent. Azula remained to gaze upon the high walls of Ba Sing Se, smiling at what was to come with the dawn.
Once they took the Earth Kingdom, the war would finally be over for good… and then Ozai would have a lot to answer for.
Zuko was already half-asleep again by the time he made it back to his tent, but the sight of the Water Tribe woman sitting at his desk and looking over some reports by candlelight brought him back to full awareness. The way the small light caught the features of her face and the color of her hair was heartbreaking; so beautiful, twisted by war and circumstance into something beautifully terrifying.
To everyone in the army except Zuko, at least. To him, she was simply beautiful.
"You should be asleep, Zuko," she said, not looking up from the letter in front of her.
"That seems to be the consensus, yeah," Zuko replied, taking off his breastplate with a groan, followed by the rest of his armor. "But so should you, Katara."
Katara smiled.
"And if I slept, how would all your reports get read? Azula can't do everything, you know. As much as she hates to admit that."
Zuko smiled, walking over to Katara and putting a hand on the part of her shoulder left bare by her Fire Nation attire. She rose and turned to face him, and they embraced with tension that quickly became fierce longing. They'd each been scarred by the war, pieces of themselves carved away, leaving empty wounds that only the other could fill.
"When this is over," Katara said during a brief pause between kisses, the last word hitching as Zuko placed a light bite on the hollow between her neck and her shoulder, "you do realize Ozai's probably going to have me killed, right?"
"He won't," Zuko said, hoping he'd hidden his own doubts. "Not after everything you've done for me. For us."
"Neither of us believe that for a second, Zuko," Katara said, pushing him just far enough away to look him in the eyes. "Your uncle served the Fire Nation for years and years, and what did he get out of it?"
Zuko's steely expression crumpled, his eyes pained. Katara hated herself for digging up such an old wound, but told herself it had to be done. The mantra was as familiar to her as breathing by this point.
"Exile," Zuko said at last, hanging his head in defeat. Katara put her hand under his chin and lifted him back up, kissing him again. She was desperate, even more desperate than she had been in the ruins of the North, and didn't bother hiding it.
"Exile," she repeated after they'd parted again, "and he was family. What do you think he'll do to some Water Tribe whore sitting at your left hand?"
"You're more than that to me," Zuko said, his voice a half-hiss. "You know that."
"But not to Ozai," Katara insisted, her blue eyes bright and intense. "Do you think he cares about you? About what you want? He'd never let the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation have half-breed heirs, and you know it."
Zuko took three steps back, his face contorted in a look of anger and pain and confusion that Katara knew all too well. It had been on his face after the first time they'd had sex, and for a moment Katara had been worried that he was going to kill her after all. But it had been his own shame, and self-loathing, that he'd shown her that night. After that, everything else had been easy.
"Why bring this up now?" Zuko said, clearly torn between wanting to convince himself Katara was lying and knowing it was the truth.
"Because we're about to go back to the Fire Nation, Zuko," Katara said seriously, stepping over to join him again. "This is it. Ba Sing Se is about to fall. The war is almost over. You can't keep running."
Zuko was silent for several moments, weighing something in his mind as he looked at Katara. She hated when he did that—it reminded her of all the things she'd come to grudgingly admire about him over the years.
"Do you love me?"
The question caught Katara off-guard, and she started.
"What?"
"You heard me," Zuko said, his voice cold and penetrating. "It's a simple question. Do you love me?"
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Oh, and I'm the one who's running?" Zuko shot back, enough force in his voice that the hairs on the back of Katara's neck prickled. She'd pushed him too far. "You're asking me to sacrifice everything I've worked for for your sake, Katara. And don't look at me like that, we both know what you're going to ask me to do.
"But if I'm going to do that," Zuko continued, pausing to gather his strength again before saying the next words, "if I'm going to… keep you safe," he deflected slightly, "I need to know you're not just using me to protect the South."
Katara felt her chest ache, and hated herself for it. She was supposed to be stronger than this. She was stronger than this. She'd had him at her mercy in the North, and had let him live instead of snapping his neck like a twig. Where was that strength now?
"Zuko, I—"
"No more running, Katara," the Crown Prince said seriously, taking her by the shoulders. "Give me an answer. Now."
She looked at him, dark hair and golden eyes illuminated by the low candlelight, power thrumming behind his stern gaze, and knew she'd lost this fight years ago. It had just taken her this long to realize it.
She leaned forward and kissed him, holding nothing back. There were no barriers this time, no calculation. No power plays, no mind games. No ghosts of their pasts interfered this time. And judging by the way Zuko reciprocated, he felt the same way.
Katara moved to lift Zuko's thin shirt up and off him, but he stopped her with a hand.
"I'd love to," he said, something in his voice that made Katara deeply regret the approaching refusal, "but we need to get some sleep."
Katara nodded after a moment, and the pair walked over to their bed in silence. As they settled down to sleep, Katara smiled as she felt Zuko pull her back towards him, letting herself feel genuine affection for the young man beside her. It was a nice relief, this kind of trust.
She just hoped it would last.
"Welcome home, Prince Zuko."
The Crown Prince nodded.
"You honor me, Father."
Ozai smiled.
"Only as much as is merited," he said. "Likewise, Princess Azula, welcome home. I hear your efforts at Ba Sing Se helped to ensure the assault was a success."
"I only did what could be asked of any Fire Nation General, my Lord," Azula answered, nodding formally. "Nothing more."
"Prince Zuko's reports say more than that," Ozai replied smoothly, taking a sip of plum wine before continuing. "He recommends your promotion, from General to Grand Marshal. He says that without you, Ba Sing Se would never have fallen. It is an assessment I agree with, and a commendation I am inclined to grant."
Azula kept her surprise hidden, taking another bite of pork to let the moment linger.
"I am humbled, Father," she said at last. "That rank hasn't been awarded in almost a hundred years."
"Fitting, then, that someone named after Fire Lord Azulon should receive it," Ozai said, smiling in a way that made both Zuko and Azula very worried. "Azulon understood what the Fire Nation meant, what it stood for. Empire. Progress. Power. Loyalty. Family."
"Of course, Father," Azula said, allowing some of her confusion to show on her face. "We learn that for years in school."
"Odd, then," Ozai pressed, the smile vanishing from his face, "that you seem to have forgotten those principles. Or, more accurately, betrayed them. Zuko told me everything, Azula."
"What?" The Princess breathed, shock in her eyes as she looked over to Zuko. His face was a mask. "Zuko?"
"Don't bother," Ozai sneered. "He has nothing to say to scum like you, and you only have a few words left, anyway. That poison in your wine should be working its way into your lungs shortly. I've heard the sensation is quite like drowning."
Azula pushed back from the table in shock, the chair clattering to the ground behind her with a crash. She clutched her chest, feeling her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
"Zu… ko…"
"You really hated me that much for having your mother banished?" Ozai asked, grim amusement in his voice. "She was a traitor, Azula. She would have sold us out to the Earth Kingdom to stop the war. Zuko understood this. He was her favorite, and even he understood. Why did you think I wouldn't figure out what you were planning, you foolish little girl? Did you forget that I raised you? That I made you everything you are? You honestly thought you could get the better of me? Unbelievable."
Azula fell to the ground, staring up at the ceiling and twitching, her gasps sounding strangled now.
"Well," Ozai said with a sigh as he turned to Zuko, "now that that's over, we can get down to business. Am I to understand that Katara of the Southern Water Tribe is still alive, Prince Zuko?"
"If by 'alive', you mean she's working for me, then yes," Zuko answered calmly, "she is still alive."
"And I trust she will cease to be so in short order?" Ozai asked. "Useful though I'm sure her insight is, she is still heir to the Southern Water Tribe. Leaving a legitimate successor alive is risky, even if the South itself poses almost no threat to us."
"I wouldn't worry about that, Father," Zuko said. "I'm sure we'll come to an understanding soon."
Ozai smiled.
"Good."
Zuko looked over and out the throne room's window, his eyes falling upon the full moon hanging in the sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he mused. "Mother and I used to love stargazing on nights like this, when I was younger."
Ozai said nothing, begrudgingly waiting for the reminiscence to pass. He turned his attention to his food, unaware of the dark shape that entered the throne room just long enough to carry Azula's body over into the nearby shadows.
"She told me to never forget who I was, on the night before the morning you banished her," Zuko continued, steel creeping into his voice. Ozai looked up, his eyes narrowing.
"Zuko?"
"It took me a while to realize what she meant," Zuko continued, his eyes smoldering now with plain hatred. "But I think I finally figured it out, after we conquered Ba Sing Se. I could have put the innocents there to the sword, and built monuments to the Fire Nation over their graves. But I didn't. Do you know why, Father?"
"Enlighten me, Prince Zuko," Ozai said, rising to his feet. Zuko was quick to do the same. "I'll be sure to carve the words as your epitaph."
"Because the only kind of empire that can survive is a benevolent one," Zuko said. "Uncle understood that. Mother understood that. But you never did, father. You kept gripping the army with an iron fist, and assumed they would follow you out of fear. Do you have any idea how much they hate you?"
"Enough," Ozai said, his face contorting with spite. "I see I've lost both of my children. Shame. It is a small comfort, then, that I can always have more."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, your Highness," a new voice joined the conversation, as hard and cold as ice. "In fact, I wouldn't put money on you seeing the sunrise."
Ozai barely had time to look toward the new speaker before he felt his whole body seize up, pain making his limbs convulse.
"What…?" he managed to gasp out as he fell forward onto the table, only to be met with a spiteful smile from Zuko.
"You only have a few words left," he said. "Try not to waste them."
Zuko stepped aside, making room for the newcomer to approach the Fire Lord. She was dressed all in black cloth, except for a thin opening that revealed dark skin and two piercing, dark blue eyes.
"Your children aren't the only people who've lost family because of you," Katara said, her voice a low growl. "If it wasn't for Zuko, I'm sure my father and brother would be dead along with my mother, Fire Lord Ozai."
Ozai tried to reply, but no words came. There was only pain.
"Is Azula…?" Zuko asked, clearly worried.
"She's fine, Zuko," Katara assured him. "It was close, but I pulled her through. It'll take her a couple days to get back to full strength, but she'll get there."
"Good," the Crown Prince said, sighing with relief. He steeled himself again, putting on the mask of his soon-to-be royal station. "Finish this."
Katara nodded, using one hand to bend the poisoned wine out of Azula's cup while the other controlled Ozai's blood and forced his mouth open. The rest of the wine was quickly poured down the Fire Lord's throat, and he was forced to make sure it stayed down.
"That should make our cover story solid," Katara said coldly as she watched Ozai limp toward death. She turned to Zuko, her face softening. "You gonna be okay?"
Zuko laughed, a small, bitter thing.
"I haven't been okay for years, Katara," he said. "I hope bringing my uncle and my mother back here will help, but honestly, I don't know."
Katara smiled, wrapping her arm around Zuko's shoulders and turning him away from the sight of his dying father, guiding him over to where Azula was recovering, leaning against the wall.
"You'll be fine," she said. "I know you will. You're a good man, Zuko. If you weren't, I would have killed you back at the North Pole."
Zuko shook his head.
"I suppose that's true," he admitted, before looking over at Katara, seriousness in his eyes. "But how did you know? Back then, I mean?"
Katara shrugged.
"Call it instinct, I guess," she said. "Something just… stopped me. I guess it was…" she sighed. "You looked like you wanted to die. Bad people don't tend to ask for death, Zuko."
"Well, hopefully you've gotten over that," Azula said as she forced herself to her feet, leaning slightly against the wall for support. "We have an empire to run, brother. And we need your help to do it."
Zuko nodded.
"I know," he said. "The two of you, mother, uncle, and me. Think we'll manage to find a way to make this work? The right way, I mean."
"It's not like anyone can stop us," Azula said. "The military worships you, Zuko. Their support is all that matters."
"And you'll have nothing to fear from the South so long as I'm around," Katara said with a sad smile. "My father and brother might never speak to me again, but they won't attack you with me in the palace."
Zuko leaned over and kissed her, smiling in kind.
"Maybe we can fix that," he said. "They're your family."
Katara sighed, glancing back at Ozai and suppressing a shudder before looking back to Zuko.
"Maybe," she said, "but I doubt it. C'mon, let's get some rest. It's going to be a very busy week."
The three of them left the throne room, and the Imperial Guard at the door saluted Zuko as he passed by. He returned the gesture, not missing a beat.
Hopefully his mother and uncle would be proud of him. But at this point, Zuko didn't know what they would think. The future scared him, and he could only hope that the women walking with him would help guide him through it.
Only time would tell.
…
…
…
A/N: This is probably one of the darker things I've ever written. Hope you enjoyed it, all the same! I really wanted to show the steelier side of Katara, and a (slightly) softer side of Azula. Hopefully I succeeded!