Thank you to my new beta reader, Tamerlan Pahlavi.
Summary: Zuko entrusts Iroh with a special mission and sinks slowly into Azula's projects.
Kojiro makes himself a new and unexpected friend.
Chapter 32 – Alliances
A soft orange light, as one can enjoy only in the last weeks of summer, brushed the floor of the large living room. Its melancholy rays illuminated a silver tray loaded with a cast iron teapot and a plate of delicious flavored cookies laid on a table between the two men who faced each other.
The younger of the two sat casually in a horseshoe chair, his long legs protruding from the seat. The elder stood in front of him, his clenched fists hidden in the wide sleeves of his olive tunic. An outside observer who wouldn't have heard the conversation that had just taken place, could have found the scene peaceful and reassuring. Yet, the consternation that seized Iroh while hearing the news that his nephew had just brought to him couldn't be further from this seemingly serene atmosphere.
"Marry Kuei's daughter? Have you lost your mind, Zuko?"
As usual, his nephew scowled. Of all the stupid ideas this stubborn boy had presented to him, this one was probably the worst.
"I guess it's another one of your sister's brilliant plans?"
"It isn't", the boy angrily retorted. "The idea comes from the Sages themselves. Azula has nothing to do with it and is totally ignorant of this project. Besides, I doubt she'll appreciate. If you agreed to talk to her, you would know it."
Iroh closed his mouth.
It was true that he was avoiding Azula since the meeting with the Fire Sages and her return from Ember Island. He had observed her carefully, however, watching for the slightest sign, the most subtle clue that would have proven him right about what for the moment, were only assumptions.
Yet, deep down, Iroh was sure of one fact, he would bet his life on it. Azula was lying. Once again, she had fooled everyone. The question was how and about what?
Iroh still hoped to receive in the next few days a response to the letter he had sent to the South Pole, just hours after Zuko and Azula's return. The old man was aware of the distance separating the two countries, but that didn't make him less eager to find out Aang and Katara's version of events. He was certain that their tale would interestingly fill in the gaps left in Zuko and Azula's one.
Iroh had known something was wrong the moment Azula walked through the entrance hall, her odd, demented smile illuminating her porcelain face. She too seemed to avoid him at first. Although he knew that a private conversation with his niece was in order, he hadn't been able to force himself to find her alone.
This way, he hoped to escape her shenanigans. He refused to be dragged into her schemes against his will and used the pretext of her illness to leave her alone and not visit her.
A little ashamed of his own cowardice, Iroh lowered his head to Zuko.
"How is she doing?"
"Mentally? Much better," his nephew replied dryly. "Her psychological state is improving every day. Taïma's treatment finally seems to be working again. We think we have identified the cause of her relapse: Azula had hidden it from us, but she would secretly use poppy-based herbal teas to better support her pelvic pain."
"Why would she hid that from you?" Iroh wondered, frowning, perplexed.
"Because Taïma had forbidden her this drug. She gave it to her once or twice at first, when the pain was too unbearable. She feared that Azula would develop a habit and that this would reverse the effect of her treatment. She was right. Apparently Azula went to steal some in Taïma's stock. That's how she held on and managed to move almost normally."
"And now?"
"Now she's in pain," Zuko retorted discontent. "Though, Taïma takes good care of her, and she assures her that the pain will disappear on its own thanks to a good rehabilitation and a few hydrotherapy sessions. She also prescribed other herbal teas for her relief and rest."
Iroh had already received the same information from Taïma, but cross-checking his sources seemed wiser. As the Grand Lotus, he had to learn to unravel the news that reached him, to see the lie in the truth, and vice versa.
Suppressing a sigh, Iroh thought of Toph. How he regretted that she was no longer there, by his side. She could have told him if his nephew was lying to him or not.
It was even more difficult to tell since Iroh had no idea what Azula's underlying motives might be. If she had really engineered all of this, what interest would she have in having her crown taken away and being under the Fire Lord's tutelage when she could have been plotting to sit with him on the throne? He couldn't imagine his niece being satisfied with second place. So, what about a useless title? If Zuko were to disappear, Azula would be nothing.
Iroh had been both surprised and relieved at the Elders' verdict. At least Azula wouldn't be subject to the crowd's anger. Her proven mental illness would at least spare her a trial. The revelations she "accidentally" made in front of the Sages had weighed in the balance, of course.
Iroh would never forget the shock he felt when Zuko came to him, his eyes very red, to tell him Azula's confession during her audience. As complex as their relationship was, Iroh couldn't bear the idea that a young woman could be abused in such a manner, whether she was a member of his family or not. That the victim was the dangerous Fire Nation princess didn't change anything.
If Tsuneo wasn't so desperately missing, no doubt Iroh would have paid him a little courtesy visit. Now that the Sons of Agni had Kojiro under their thumb, it would be difficult to impose justice. It would be word against word. Who would the people agree to believe?
Rape was a taboo, and in a world dominated by men, women's words didn't have much weight, including that of princesses. Whatever the reasons that prompted Azula to burn Kojiro, there would be few people in the Nation who would be moved by the outrage he had caused her. The Princess had too many enemies. Given the reputation she suffered from, many would be quick to think she deserved her fate. No doubt this devilish girl with her bewitching beauty had enchanted the poor boy. Kojiro could probably count on more support than the princess could hope for, even after a bounty was put on his head.
Iroh feared that, by making this revelation, Azula played a dangerous game. Did she realize the risks she took in divulging such information?
Iroh would have liked to know what Zuko thought of it. Knowing his nephew's choleric temper, the news of what had happened to his younger sister must have set fire to his tortured mind. Although he knew how reluctant he was to broach the subject, Iroh seized the opportunity of his presence.
"Have you finally made a decision about Kojiro?"
Zuko was lost in his thoughts, contemplating the patterns that adorned the carpet on which his feet rested. He didn't even raise his head to answer.
"If only I knew where to find him. The disgusting head of this traitor appears on all the panels in the city. Everyone seems to have seen him at least once in the past week, and yet he's as elusive as a ghost."
"Zuko," Iroh said quietly, deciding to drop all pretense. "You are aware, I hope, that by condemning Kojiro, you will draw the wrath of your entire nation? Do you know what he means to the people?"
"A rapist! A traitor! He is the model those under-educated toothless are looking for! They use him as a banner, as a symbol of their suffering. But what do they know about suffering, these privileged people? They were born into a world where the Fire Nation oppressed all other peoples, where the fruit of others' labor was rightfully theirs. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Uncle, but I refuse to play their game!"
"It's your people, Zuko. Whether you like them or not, you have a responsibility towards them."
"I have been working for five years to bring them the peace they never had! I did everything I could to unite the nations, to offer them a world of peace and fraternity..."
"Okay," Iroh conceded, "But don't you think marrying Kuei's daughter is a bit extreme? You know the people will feel betrayed. To them, reaching out to the Earth King means letting his subjects enter our lands."
"And since when is that a problem for you?" Zuko asked abruptly, raising his golden eyes to him. So similar to Ozai's... "I thought you were in favor of open borders. As a prominent member of a secret society meant to transcend the concept of nations, I hoped you would understand."
"You seem suddenly very eager to keep the peace for someone who, not a month ago, was ready to destroy under a deluge of fire the largest nation in the world for your sister's pretty eyes."
"I changed my mind. I've thought a lot about it," Zuko retorted sharply, redirecting his attention to the carpet at his feet, as if fascinated by the arabesques intertwining there. "Our nation has nothing to gain by getting bogged down in another conflict. On the contrary, I think we have everything to lose."
His nephew paused and Iroh respected his silence. It was true that he was rather relieved to avoid an open conflict; though he couldn't help but feel deep concern. Iroh really didn't see why Kuei would agree to such an alliance. Unless, as one whispered, the latter had truly lost control over Lu Fang. The letters Zuko had received – and which had mysteriously ceased for a few days – kept the doubt alive.
The Earth King claims the head of the Fire Nation Princess and summons the Fire Lord to declare his allegiance to him.
The last request seemed so absurd it was almost trivial. Kuei was certainly no genius, but even the most foolish of rulers should know that the sovereign of the most influential and menacing nation in the world is not asked to submit unconditionally. It was becoming so obvious that someone –but was it Lu Fang?– was trying to ruin the Earth King's credibility, that Iroh was beginning to fear a ruse from another, more pernicious enemy yet to be revealed.
While he was plunged in his thoughts, Zuko's voice rose again:
"I don't want to marry a little girl, Uncle, you can believe me. But the Elders beg me to do so. You know that tradition requires me to obtain their agreement to marry a woman. Ever since one of them suggested this idea to his little comrades, they've been bowing to me so that I'll accede to their request. They even suggested giving up on all charges against Azula. They promise to restore royal immunity if I agree to marry Hou-Tin."
Iroh jumped slightly, blinking, and gave his nephew a long, incredulous look.
"But, my nephew… This measure is the first that you and Aang insisted on putting in place when you drafted the new constitution. You even wrote it so as to not risk becoming like your father."
"It was a huge mistake, obviously!" Zuko replied without looking at him. "It's good for untamed utopians who believe in a perfect world where leaders and their people live together harmoniously in mutual respect and understanding. The truth is that if a ruler gives his subjects a chance to weaken him, they will rush to it! I did this to never become a tyrant. And they have only dragged me through the mud since then, taking advantage of this law to accuse me of all the horrors one can imagine!"
Iroh listened carefully. It was painful for him to admit that Zuko was somewhat right. Although Iroh dreamed of a world without a ruler, where all men were equal and free to do as they pleased, he was well placed to know that darkness and violence always found a way to descend on the world, each time taking a different form.
When Aang and Zuko wanted to establish the Harmony Restoration Movement to give autonomy back to the colonies, troubles immediately arose, forcing the two young idealists to give up on their beautiful project.
Later, when the Council of the Four Nations finally ratified the text proposing the creation of the Capital of Nations near Yu Dao, the world had to face an unleashing of violence unprecedented since the end of the Hundred Years War.
Today the situation in the colonies was chaotic. No one had been providing security there since Lu Fang's troops had deserted. Zuko's soldiers had been forced to retreat and since then they had had to be called back here to protect the inhabitants of the Fire Nation from Lu Fang's probable offensive. Militias had formed in these abandoned territories, supported by powerful gangster groups who ruled by terror and fought each other constantly, dragging innocent lives into an endless whirlwind of violence.
If Iroh had been in Ba Sing Se, he could have paid a visit to Kuei in order to find out what he really thought about this mess.
But from here, on the other side of the world, Iroh was helpless. He had tried to ask Bumi for help, but it seems old age had finally caught up with the king who was sinking deeper into senility every day. Iroh had heard from his White Lotus friends that Bumi's eldest son was about to take over. The man, aged eighty-four, didn't seem the ideal candidate to lead such a powerful city and the citizens of Omashu were also beginning to lose faith in their sovereigns. However, Omashu's support was essential. The city served as a buffer between Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation. If its inhabitants considered claiming their autonomy and thought of doing so without their leaders too, into what darkness would the world fall?
A way had to be found to unify the Earth Kingdom, and that unification must not come at the expense of the Fire Nation. Iroh always wanted his nation to work for the peace that everyone was striving to preserve. Could this absurd marriage be the long-awaited opportunity?
"So, are you going to accept?" he asked tentatively.
Still leaning forward in his horseshoe chair, hands clasped in his lap, Zuko looked up at him with eyes shining with fierce determination:
"I did already, Uncle. I informed the Council this morning."
Glancing helplessly out the window, his shoulders hunched, Iroh sighed, "Alright, if you think that's the solution... When do you plan to address your proposal to Kuei?"
Zuko leaned on the armrests of his chair and stood up. He walked over to his uncle and put a hand on his shoulder. Iroh would never cease to marvel at how tall he was now. His nephew was a man. The time was over when he could influence him with his advice.
"That's where you come in, Uncle. I need you."
And as Iroh did not react, he continued:
"I think it's no coincidence that none of our letters reached Ba Sing Se. We first thought that Kuei was voluntary ignoring our requests in pure provocation. But for some time, Azu- I became sure that he was probably manipulated by Lu Fang. It wouldn't be the first time. Kuei no longer controls Lu Fang at all. This traitor took with him a quarter of his army before mysteriously disappearing. I'm sure Kuei is keeping his mouth shut because he can't let his people find out that he's been fooled by his closest advisor a second time. Someone must have been intercepting all of our communications to maintain tension between our two nations. And I'm ready to bet it's the same person who writes those anonymous letters I receive every day!"
The idea did not lack some good sense. Iroh had thought of that too. Kuei had never had a bellicose temper. Everything led one to believe that Lu Fang was planning a coup. It was quite possible that by giving his only daughter to the Fire Lord, the Earth King hoped to offer himself a precious ally.
"And how can I help?" Iroh asked, already half worried about the answer.
Zuko squared his shoulders and spoke solemnly:
"I want you, Uncle, to deliver the letter containing my request to Ba Sing Se. You're the only person I can entrust his mission to."
"Zuko…"
"You've been more than valuable to me here. Without you, we never would have found out what happened to Azula. You honorably replaced me when I was on Ember Island and you kept the nation afloat when the ship was cracking all over. You were able to calm me down when I pretended to walk over the Earth Kingdom. I understand what mistake I would have made now. I will never be grateful enough to you. I ask you one last favor. The peace of the world depends on you."
"My nephew, I would be more serene if I could stay with you."
The idea of leaving Zuko here, alone, handed over to his sister's cunning and manipulations, greatly displeased him. Why did this whole story seem to bear the signature of the "thousand trick princess", as everyone called her?
"You have to leave today, Uncle," Zuko cut him off in a dry tone that suffered no refusal. "I have everything prepared for your departure. My two best men: Satoshi and Kadao, will join you in your journey."
"Kadao?" Iroh shouted, his heart leaping in his chest so much that he was afraid for a moment of spitting it on the carpet. "Zuko! You can't be serious! Kadao is your closest adviser and a trustworthy man! Who will protect you if he's gone?"
"Your safety comes first, Uncle. Your diplomatic mission is essential. I'm not risking anything here. I have my men, the support of the Fire Sages, Ty Lee and Taïma who are competent fighters."
"Zuko, I have to refuse…"
"No, you can't," Zuko stopped him, sweeping the space between them with the edge of his hand. "It's an order from your Fire Lord. Kuei must receive my request before the equinox. I will do everything to contain the fire here, don't worry. I will follow all your advice."
"I'm not at peace..."
"I know. But you have to trust me. I know that you will carry out your mission perfectly. For my part, I will look for new ways to get my request to the Earth King in order to save as much time as possible."
Iroh felt choked, unable to speak. He didn't react when Zuko approached him to hug him. He stood there, arms dangling, stunned. Already his nephew was letting go of him, turning his back on him and walking away. The cloak that adorned his ceremonial outfit fluttered around his ankles. The movement woke the old man's momentarily numb brain.
"Zuko! He tried one last time. Where are you going?"
"I promised Azula to join her for dinner. She is often restless in the evening and my presence reassures her. I will say goodbye to her for you. Say hello to that dear Kurei for me when you're in Ba Sing Se."
And just like that, the Fire Lord vanished, leaving Iroh alone with his stupor and worries. When he felt that he had recovered from his bewilderment, the old man thought of finishing the cup he had left on the silver tray. The tea was cold and bitter on his tongue.
Zuko went to his room, guilt riveting his heart.
He had done the right. It was the only thing to do. Yet, seeing his uncle leaving, his last ally, filled him with a strange feeling that seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach, like a growing void that engulfed everything.
Zuko wasn't stupid. He wasn't blind to the fact that Azula was manipulating him.. Doubt hadn't left him for a moment since she'd whispered her plans in his ear that night on Ember Island. But it was too late to turn back. He and Azula had gone too far, and he couldn't see how nor why giving up now.
The damage was done: Aang had abandoned him at the worst time. Taking back the nation was the only way to keep his crown. And although the idea broke his heart, Uncle Iroh was an obstacle to this project.
Azula's plan was working. The Sages seemed more complacent towards him, ready to give him back a share of the power they had taken from him and eaten away over the years. Raising the specter of open war on them had been a brilliant idea. Zuko hissed in admiration when his sister showed him the counterfeit she had spent hours writing using old Kuei letters found in the Royal Archives room. She had so perfectly imitated Kuei's elegant and rounded handwriting that even comparing the two documents, it was almost impossible to detect the slightest difference. The threat of war this fictitious letter contained had the desired effect.
Tomorrow, if everything went well, Zuko would regain royal immunity. A threatened sovereign should have free rein to defend himself, the Elders admitted during their last interview.
They also agreed that in the frame of a state of emergency, the Fire Lord would become sole decision maker in matters of internal security. It was therefore up to him to decide on the extension of the curfew, the arrest of demonstrators and dissidents. Of course, a state of emergency could only be declared with the consent of the Council. It wasn't perfect yet, but it was a start. Obviously, Azula knew what she was doing.
Zuko reached his bedroom door. He nodded to the soldiers guarding the entrance and pushed the door open. In the corridor that led to his chambers, he removed the cloak and the overlayers of his Fire Lord outfit to make himself comfortable and threw them on the ground. He was only dressed in a short-sleeved tunic and his baggy pants when he entered the room. He jumped violently when he discovered a figure sitting on his bed, which could be guessed through the curtains of the canopy. His surprise was short-lived, however. A mysterious light emanated from the frosted glass globes fixed above the headboard; and its bluish hue left little doubt about the intruder's identity.
Zuko heaved a sigh of exasperation.
"Protocol requires you to ask for a private meeting before entering the Fire Lord's apartments."
"Is the protocol the same for the Fire Lord's family?" replied an amused and velvety voice.
"Given the identity of said member of my family, I think it should be more than ever…" he retorted, sitting on the edge of the bed, to remove his pointy boots.
Then without a glance at her, he threw his back on the mattress, his legs protruding from the bed, his arms folded behind his head, his face raised towards the crimson canopy that the blue flames made almost purple. A shadow gradually obscured his view, and a curtain of silky black hair came to tickle his chin as a soft-featured face bent over his.
"And what about the future Fire Lady? Can't she afford some familiarity?"
Zuko closed his eyes and accepted the kisses that scarlet lips placed on his forehead. Then he propped himself up on one elbow to face his sister who had just sat down next to him, a sly smile lighting up her face, her knees now huddled against her chest.
"I already told you that I won't give you that title. It will be Hou Tin who will wear it… It's your idea, remember?"
"Yes, but you will need someone to keep your bed warm during the long winters that you have to spend alone before she is nubile?"
"Certainly not you," he replied, picking up a tiny feather fallen from a pillow that had gotten caught in Azula's hair.
Zuko still wasn't completely comfortable, but he thought he could handle the teasing. Azula was very amused by these somewhat bold allusions, but since the stay on Ember Island, by tacit agreement, the two had avoided any close contact as much as possible. Granted, they might not behave quite like siblings should, but those cuddles didn't really count. Not after the fiery caresses they had shared on Ember Island.
The sessions with Taïma seemed to help Zuko keep his impulses under control. He had even gone so far as to tell the healer that he could think of his sister without mentally undressing her. But he supposed that joining Hachiko occasionally helped a little too...He couldn't afford to take any risks anymore. He had to be morally irreproachable. Zuko knew he was playing a dangerous game though. If Azula were to find out where he spent his nights...
"Did the guards see you come in?" he asked, trying to maintain a detached tone.
"I'm crazy, Zuzu, not stupid. I went through the passage."
Azula backed up to the headboard and leaned casually against the pillows, tucking her long black hair over one shoulder, revealing the side of her neck. Zuko's eyes fell on her collarbone and then on the small mole that had troubled him so much the last time. Azula only wore a light dress that revealed her spectacularly white legs ending in charming ankles. As she raised her knees, Zuko accidentally caught a glimpse of the light fabric that hid her sex. Blushing, he tossed his head the other way and climbed back onto the bed to lean back against his pillows and escape the tempting sight.
"So have you decided what title you're going to give me when we get rid of the old fart?" she asked as she lay down next to him, denying him any respite. "I would like something poetic but also awe-inspiring and that commands respect."
"How about The Grand Manipulative Bitch?" he asked, turning to her.
The blue flames dancing above them cast shadows on Azula's face and her bronze eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Okay, provided you change your title too," she cooed, stroking Zuko's arm with the back of her index finger.
"And I bet you already have an idea?" he said suspiciously.
"I was thinking of Grand Manipulated Dumdum. What do you say?"
Zuko smirked and stretched an arm to the side. Understanding the invitation, Azula snuggled up against him, nestling her head in the crook of her brother's shoulder. Zuko closed his arm around hers and kissed her hair.
He could no longer deny her his tenderness. Not after she broke down in tears in the middle of her room after the interview with the Sages, after she revealed what Kojiro did to her.
"Oh Zuzu!" She sobbed into his chest. "Don't ask me! Don't ask me how it was! Take me in your arms and hold me tight! Make me feel safe, my beloved brother!"
What else could he have done? Obediently, he had hugged her to the point of hurting her. Since then, she hadn't mentioned it again and Zuko hadn't found the courage to question her. Azula acted as if nothing had happened. Yet, although he now knew the truth, he couldn't silence the infuriating little refrain that whispered happily in his mind:
"Azula always lies!"
For the moment, Zuko had no desire to think about it. A soft silence enveloped them. The flames trapped in the glass orbs purred lazily above them, occasionally throwing a spark that cast silver glints on their skin.
Azula had closed her eyes and was smiling serenely against him. He nearly missed her whisper when she broke the silence:
"So? Is it done?"
Zuko didn't answer right away. He tried to imagine his uncle, dumbfounded, arms dangling in the living room where he had left him. Now he must have recovered from his surprise. When he got back to his room, he would find his things packed up. Valets would already be transporting them to the discreet carriage that would take him and the companions Zuko designated out of Caldera.
There would be neither palanquin, nor airship, nor metal chariot. It was essential that Iroh travel in complete secrecy. It would take weeks before they reached Ba Sing Se. Zuko hadn't dared to confide his doubts to Azula, but he feared that it would be too late when Kuei finally received his letter. Would he and his sister be able to contain the anger of the citizens and the invisible threat of Lu Fang on their own?
A great sadness came over him. He probably wouldn't see his uncle again for months. And when he learned what they had done in his absence, would he still agree to see him?
Zuko turned his face to Azula. She pulled herself up to him and their noses brushed. She must have read the distress in his eyes because she spoke in a caressing voice:
"Zuko..."
And as he closed his eyes to drive away the tears that threatened to their edge, she pulled him against her, inviting him to lay his head against her chest. Zuko gave up. How lucky to be able to console yourself on such a pillow! Azula gently stroked his hair, tangling it between her nimble fingers.
"Zuzu… I assure you it was the right thing to do."
"We've lied to so many people," he moaned. "If anyone finds out the truth... your whole plan will fail..."
"Everything is working as expected, honey. Stop tormenting yourself. That idiot Than-Fu is far too happy to pass for the little genius who had the idea for this arranged marriage with Kuei's daughter. He has no interest in revealing who gave him the idea. He knows what he risks by denouncing us. His secret is of the kind that destroys a life."
"But he is elected for life. What is he really risking? He will always sit among the Fire Sages."
"They are subject to the same duty of morality as you are. And sincerely Zuko, in the current context, do you think it's very reasonable for this old man to make public his questionable taste for very young boys?"
Zuko had to admit that the idea of using Ty Lee's skills to spy on the Fire Sages and learn about their vices was brilliant. The young acrobat had done an excellent job.
"I guess you're right…as always."
He buried his head further between Azula's shoulder and chest. She hugged him tightly and heaved a deep sigh of contentment as she resumed stroking his hair.
Zuko thought back to the obnoxious poster his uncle had shown him before they left for Ember Island. The truths it contained kept troubling him. He thought with disgust of the monstrous spider's body, of the exuberant chest with which the artist had decked out Azula, of the grotesque protuberance which deformed the pants of the character who represented him. And as Azula pressed him closer to her, he felt very small in her arms, like a gnat caught in a web.
He couldn't tell if it was frightening or perfectly stunning.
As if to confirm his fears, Azula's warm voice whispered right next to his ear.
"Finally! We are alone..."
An antique chandelier hanging from the cracked ceiling dimly lit the room. A fire crackled peacefully in the hearth. Two cozy armchairs faced each other, surrounding a small table on which two glasses and a bottle filled with sake stood. The heady perfume of the alcohol impregnated the room.
Wood paneling adorned the walls, giving the place a warm ambience that contrasted with the gloomy atmosphere of other parts of the Headquarter. Over the fireplace mantel hang a black banner decked with a symbol: a deep-red upturned crown, pierced by a flaming sword. The weapon was a recent addition decided by the Guide, Kojiro recalled. According to him, it was necessary to remind the Disciples of the warlike nature of their fight. Their mission transcended simple ideological quarrels.
According to him, the time had come for action. The presence of this unexpected guest confirmed his words, as always. The Guide was always right.
The fire in the hearth sometimes threw a brighter spark which fleetingly illuminated the rugged face of the imposing man facing the Guide.
When Kojiro had let him in earlier, at the Guide's request, he recognized his manly features and his water-green eyes. He saw him on many posters and in the newspapers his father would receive from Ba Sing Se in the past, when he was teaching his son the basics of politics. This soldier who sat proudly in the chair in front of him was one of the most powerful and prominent men in the Earth Kingdom.
However, welcoming him, Kojiro had revealed himself momentarily unable to put a name to this familiar face. Since his "transformation" – this is how the Guide called the fateful day Kojiro had lost everything – , Kojiro could no longer memorize dates or names. Everything he knew before was mixed in a kind of great nebulous heap where all his memories were confused and collided. No salient event ever came to the surface. The name of this man was part of this chaos and Kojiro dimly remembered knowing it once, when these things still mattered.
Despite the mask that hid the mush of his face, Kojiro felt humiliated by his imperious gaze that seemed to probe him. No doubt the armored man who entered the room knew who he was. After all, Kojiro's face and name were visible on every sign and placard in town. Kojiro enjoyed a little notoriety.
As the Guide had promised him, Kojiro had become the darling son of his nation. He had friends, people who bent over backwards to meet his every need. A different woman warmed his bed whenever he expressed the desire.
He enjoyed it at first, but very quickly, he had to come back to reality. All these young women were handsomely paid to carry out this chore, when they were not simply forced to do so. The pleasures of the flesh which he once greedily tasted no longer had the same flavor today. The smell of sex that engulfed the gap in the middle of his face disgusted him now.
Fortunately, there was the Guide. The Guide was everything. The Guide filled the universe with his mere presence and Kojiro would have died for this man who had pulled him out of the sordid misery in which he had lived. Little by little, in his contacts, Kojiro had understood that he was wrong, that everything he believed and did, before this providential master entered his life, was only illusion and pure vanity.
The Guide had not taken long to convince him of Agni's greatness and omnipotence, of the obvious supremacy of His son's race over other men. Today, Kojiro wondered how he could have been so blind, his own ignorance horrified him.
So Kojiro had been surprised when he recognized the man he had welcomed in the antechamber. His singular appearance betrayed the impurity of his race. Why would the Guide receive such a man? A declared enemy of their people? Wasn't it because of him that the vermin had surged and spread through their sacred land like an unstoppable plague?
Now Kojiro was standing in a corner, lurking in the shadows, watching the two men's conversation. It seemed that this appointment had been agreed upon for a long time. Lu Fang – yes, that's what his name was! - and the Guide were speaking like old friends. Yet an hour earlier, they didn't know each other.
He had a hard time hearing their discussion's content. The mask that hid his face amplified the sound of his exhalations and prevented him from seizing a word of what the two men were saying to each other.
Kojiro was struggling to get used to this mask which isolated him even more from the rest of the world. But at least, it spared him the shame of seeing himself and being seen. He knew how much his atrocious face was an insult to beauty and airiness.
This mask, uncomfortable as it was for his damaged skin, was also the symbol of his belonging to this group. The Brothers and Sisters wore it proudly during their public demonstrations. Kojiro only removed it at the end of the speech, when the Guide, with great gestures and raising his voice dramatically, ordered the young man to reveal his true face. The horrified crowd then let out loud cries. They were screaming. They were crying. Women fainted. They clapped hands on their face while rolling their eyes; or they looked away, feigning too much sensitivity. But immediately afterwards, they stared greedily at this battlefield, this rottenness that was Kojiro's face. The Martyr of the Empire. This was his new name. Only the Guide called him by his old first name. And Kojiro was proud of this intimate and exclusive bond that united him to his master.
He didn't know what to think about the presence of this enemy who had brought the plague to their beautiful nation and who now shared a bottle of rice wine with the Guide. Kojiro took advantage of the Guide asking him to bring the Book to approach and try to catch more than a few snippets of the conversation.
"Here," the Guide said, handing Lu Fang the Book Kojiro had just brought him. "You will find in this sacred work all you need to know. Agni's word is transcribed there in all its purity. Even a profane like yourself will be struck by the depth and greatness of these verses."
"I don't doubt it," Lu Fang courteously replied, taking the Book and quickly putting it away under his cloak, without giving it a look, as if it were just a vulgar sugary novel for women. Kojiro took offense. The Book should only be treated with the respect it deserved. This man must be really important for the Guide to accept such a mark of disrespect.
Kojiro was about to retreat when the Guide grabbed him by the wrist.
"Please, stay with us Kojiro. I'm sure this conversation will interest you. Minister Lu Fang came to tell me about some old acquaintances he and you have in common. One in particular should strike a chord in your memory."
Lu Fang said nothing, but a broad smile split his square face in two parts.
"Princess A'ula?" Kojiro asked through the hole pierced in his mask, at mouth height.
"Absolutely. Our friend here happens to have a few grievances against her as well. That's why I'm sure you two can get along. But take off your mask, my son. Minister Lu Fang would like to see you. Do you know that he came to meet you?"
A few weeks earlier, Kojiro would have implored the Guide not to inflict such humiliation on him. But all that staging on the trestles of the city had immunized him against the shame of exhibiting his face. He complied slowly.
Lu Fang didn't flinch and barely blinked when Kojiro dropped his mask on the coffee table and fixed his single eye on Lu Fang who was staring at him with almost scientific interest, as if wondering what benefit he could derive from this hash.
"Minister Lu Fang agrees with us that the reign of the Fire Princess has lasted long enough. As you know, every drop of blood from a child of Agni is a blessing. As a descendant of the God of Light Himself, the Fire Lord and his family are untouchable. Our disciples would be reluctant to shed such pure blood. But they don't know what we know. These things are beyond the understanding of our simple stalwarts. But you and I, we know, Kojiro. The Fire Lord's sister is a holy person, but that doesn't mean she has full rights. Corrupt blood must be purified."
Lu Fang shifted in his chair, looking satisfied, but remained silent. He continued to observe Kojiro who felt the anguish rise in his throat and begin to throb there, at the bottom of his gullet.
"Do you remember," the Guide pursued, "that the Council of the Fire Sages recently stripped the Fire Lord's younger sister of her title of Crown Princess?"
Of course, he hadn't forgotten. He would never forget how he felt when he and the Guide heard the news that the town criers were proclaiming everywhere. Kojiro had been sick from it for two days, refusing all food.
So, there would be no trial, no justice. At least, not against her. The Princess had been deemed irresponsible for her actions, deprived of her reason at the time of the events and placed under her brother's guardianship. If the whispers were to be believed, this laxity was due to extenuating circumstances: it was said that the princess acted in self-defense. Kojiro was charged with offense and injury to her royal person. This heinous lie had amplified his feeling of injustice. It amounted to immunity, according to Kojiro. It was said everywhere that this decision came mainly from the Fire Sages Council, that the Fire Lord himself had no say in it. Kojiro didn't know who to believe. It was true that if Zuko had had his hands free, he probably would have demanded that his sister keep her crown.
Recently, pamphlets had appeared denouncing the growing influence of the Sages over the Fire Lord. According to the pamphleteers, Zuko was their puppet. The old men were said to have muzzled the Fire Lord when the latter announced his desire to walk over the Earth Kingdom. It was also said that they had sent the young sovereign away for several days, leaving their accomplice, General Iroh, known for his complacency towards barbarian peoples, to lead the Nation.
Kojiro nodded, although he didn't understand what good this fact could bring him. The Guide may have thought he would find consolation there.
But the Guide did not deceive him. The Guide was eminently good and he proved it to him once again.
"Do you understand what that means Kojiro? We couldn't touch a hair of the Princess because it was like shedding the blood of Agni Himself. However strong the hatred and disgust she inspires in our friends, they would have been reluctant to attack her. That's why we wasted time. Maybe it was my mistake: our brothers and sisters couldn't see beyond this matter of blood. The people lack subtlety. But now that she's stripped of her title, her blood has lost its value. So, we can let it spilled without fear..."
Oh? So it worked like that? It seemed a bit simple to Kojiro; but if the Guide said so, it must be true. The Guide was always right.
Facing him, Lu Fang kept smiling.
"Our friend here offers us a deal: if we promise to deliver the Princess to him, he will in turn deliver the arms and reinforcements we need to carry on our noble cause."
Kojiro cringed. Lu Fang made him deeply uncomfortable with his sadistic smirk that revealed all his cruelty. Kojiro didn't want to act wrong. He simply wanted to cleanse his nation of the taint that tarnished its glory. How to proceed by forming a pact with one of them?
The Guide seemed to have read his mind.
"I know what you're thinking, Kojiro. You fear that Lu Fang will betray us. But I assure you that he and I understand each other. The Book itself tells us that in troubled times the Sons of Agni may cooperate with their neighbors, as long as it serves the interests of our race and we don't meddle with them by blood."
Really? Kojiro couldn't remember such a passage in the book he read religiously every night before falling asleep.
There was a coughing noise and both of them turned their heads towards Lu Fang who was leaning towards them, still sitting in his chair.
"Young man," he said to Kojiro: "you see, I'm not a religious man. These theological considerations are beyond me. Yet I know only too well how it is to feel invaded on your land. I don't wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemies."
Kojiro said nothing, letting him continue, looking impassive despite his heart which had started throbbing furiously between his ribs when the man addressed him. He wouldn't have felt any different if it had been a demon talking to him.
"As I was telling your master…" He cocked a disdainful chin at the Guide sitting across from him, a gesture that made Kojiro boil with rage. "We can understand each other and come together to a situation that satisfies all of us. You want to regain the purity of your race. The settlers and your sovereigns prevent you from doing so. I want to protect my people and prevent these same settlers from returning to steal their homes, women and jobs. Our enemies are the same."
You are the enemy! he wanted to spit in Lu Fang's face. But he wasn't sure he could do it in a way that wasn't repugnant to everyone, and besides, the Guide probably wouldn't have liked it. He seemed strangely well-disposed towards this foreigner who had dumped vermin on their beautiful lands.
The Guide had to understand the inner battle going on in the head of his most faithful disciple. Even the mask that covered his entire face could not impede the clairvoyance of this remarkable man. Kojiro loved him like a father, like a god, like a dog loves his master. Wildly and fiercely and he would have done anything for him.
"How?" he asked then.
"It's very simple," the Guide replied. "As I told you, our friend here will take care of providing us with what we need to accomplish our divine mission. He agrees to help us ensure the advent of the New Order on some conditions. It is essential that we preserve the blood of Agni. Our people grew up and lived in worship of the Fire Lord. We can't and don't want to deprive them of this symbolic figure. Unfortunately, the blood of our current ruler is corrupted, perverted by his dubious associations, and even more so by the charms of the demonic princess who warms his bed night after night."
"If you deliver her to me," Lu Fang added, unable to hide the note of excitement in his voice, "I promise that she will meet a fate worthy of her crimes. You will thus be rid of her, without having shed a drop of the sacred blood which, according to you, flows in her veins."
It sounded good. Thus, the Guide could bring forth the New Order without shedding pure blood. Kojiro still wondered how they hoped to control Zuko. Were they going to replace him with a member of his family? His uncle? No. Probably not. He had long since lost the respect of the Fire Nation elites. His father, Ozai, perhaps? But Kojiro doubted it was to Lu Fang's taste.
"You don't need to know everything, boy," the Guide said calmly, as if reading his mind once more. "I just want to reassure you about the fate of the one who made your life what it is today and assure you of the bright future that this unexpected collaboration promises us. We cannot deny that we are missing financial means," he added, turning again to Lu Fang. "Many of us are profanes and commoners. Our current world does not yet allow us to live without these purely material constraints and all the help you can give us will be invaluable. Thanks to your support, we will finally be able to act concretely and permanently come out of hiding. The Fire Lord will be compelled to acknowledge our existence."
But there was still one pressing issue to be resolved. And Kojiro was unable to contain himself any longer:
"What about the settlers? The settlers who defile our land. What are you going to do with them?"
The Guide translated to Lu Fang who had witnessed this interruption, sharp contempt hollowing out his brutal face.
"For this matter too, our friend has a solution. He promises, as soon as the New Order is established, to empty our territory of the brood that is eating it away. We will return the colonies to them. It's their land after all. We don't care for them. In exchange, Lu Fang promises to rid us of these animals who compromise the purity of our blood."
"Indeed," Lu Fang continued. "You have my word. I am a man of honor and I fix my mistakes. I am aware of the troubles caused to you by the arrival of these half-breeds. I will bring back to my realm the elements that fail your famous test."
The test. Every time he thought about it, Kojiro felt a wave of inexplicable excitement wash over him. He dimly remembered having once regarded these ideas with disdain. How wrong he was then! Fortunately, the guide had opened his eyes and his heart. The test was another brilliant idea of the Guide. Thanks to this very precise document which detailed the physical criteria specific to the pure race, even simple officials of the New Order would very easily be able to know which individuals deserved the coveted status of Son or Daughter of Fire.
Of course, all the others would not be discarded. The Guide had explained this to his most skeptical followers in very simple terms. The eminent specimens of the pure race were no longer numerous enough today to guarantee its perpetuation. All firebenders would automatically be considered qualified for the status, regardless of appearance. They would also keep samples selected for their traits close to those of the Sons of Fire. Finally, a few degenerate individuals would be tolerated, as long as they could attest in their family tree to the existence of at least one direct purebred parent. These would aid in the reproduction of the breed. The genes of the Sons of Fire were so obviously superior that they would soon erase all traces of taint brought by other peoples. Wasn't fire the purifying element?
The Guide was a genius. His knowledge of science and genetics was second to none. Thanks to him, hundreds, thousands of Sons of Fire would be born. In a few generations, no doubt, all the nation's inhabitants would be firebenders with a perfect physiognomy. An army of fair-skinned men and women, with brown, ocher or golden eyes, hair black as ebony wood.
"And what about you?" asked Kojiro who, this time, dared to address Lu Fang directly. "Those ya will brin' home?"
"I'm sure you'll like this part of the plan," Lu Fang replied with a smile. "The colonies will revert to Earth Kingdom ownership. In exchange, I promise to build camps there to receive the individuals you send to me."
Kojiro turned to the Guide whose eyes behind the mask seemed to shine with excitement.
One last question bothered him.
"And what about the prisoners?"
"Who mentioned prisoners?" Lu Fang replied in a voice from beyond the grave that vibrated in Kojiro's stomach.
Somewhere, far, far away in the dizzying depths of his mind, a voice that belonged to a happy, smart, handsome boy screamed in indignation and horror. But this boy no longer existed. If he had had a name once, it no longer belonged to him. He silenced the voice inside him. He gave Lu Fang a toothless, red-gum smile that brought out the protruding bone in his cheekbone.
Lu Fang smirked back and raised his glass to Kojiro and the Guide.
"I make a toast to our long and fruitful collaboration."
The afternoon was coming to an end when Zuko was finally free to leave the council room where he had been meeting for hours with his ministers. The debates had been stormy, virulent even, but Zuko had not let himself be impressed. He had to raise his voice twice and brandish threats against the most recalcitrant ones who insisted on insulting his authority.
But in the end, Zuko had managed to impose his views. His ministers had finally agreed to follow him, one by one despite their reluctance. It wasn't exactly like they had a choice, Zuko considered as he walked through the columned hall that led to the royal family's quarters.
He was certain that if he had returned unannounced to the Council Chamber, he would have found his ministers in full conversation, probably prolonging the debates and deciding whether or not the Fire Lord had lost his mind.
"Are you aware that with this reform, your power will be particularly limited? the chamberlain asked. "The Elders, despite all the respect they inspire and the wisdom attributed to them, are ambitious men who will try to take advantage of the situation. They have already forced you to strip the Princess of her title, leaving you without an heir."
"Are you suggesting that I should make Azula my heiress again? Would you like to see her become a Fire Lord, knowing that she has an incurable mental illness that can lead her to make terrible decisions?"
The chamberlain, a stiff man with an usually impassive face, winced slightly before answering.
"No…no of course. This is not what I meant. However, this backpedaling gives you the image of a weak and easily influenced leader."
"It also gives the image of a leader who cares about the opinion of his people and those who hold knowledge and wisdom. My sister has grown too unpopular. The despicable rumors circulating about us have already caused too much damage. I have to fix this, even if the decision is against me. If I want the people to trust me again, I have to prove my loyalty to them. I will not be a second Ozai."
"Without going that far, my Lord, you have every right to demand absolute obedience from the people. Appointing the Fire Sages Council as your successor ifyou happen to die seems dangerous to me. They are known for their friendship with the Avatar who became a persona non grata over the past few months."
Zuko, whom this discussion was beginning to tire, interrupted: "You seem to forget that the Fire Lord draws his origin from the Fire Sages Council. You are aware that this title traditionally went to the Great Sage and that it was only after many generations that the Fire Lord broke away from the Council, out of pure ambition. I am only reconnecting with the source of my power. I want to be an enlightened ruler, not a dictator."
Skeptical eyebrows were raised, and incredulous looks were exchanged after this argument. This History lesson hadn't seemed to convince them that it was a good idea to entrust legislative power to the Elders. They already had the judiciary one. Wasn't that enough?
Zuko was not surprised. His democratic ideals and his rejection of tyranny had already earned him mockery in the past. Officially renouncing absolute power by divine right for a constitutional monarchy did not please his ministers, whose power would only be diminished. They had been able to keep quiet as long as Aang was around. Zuko was certain that his ministers had seen the Avatar's departure as a golden opportunity to regain power. No wonder they are disappointed in his decision!
It would not please the Sons of Agni any more. And that was all that mattered. His ministers had no choice, and they knew that if they wanted to keep their post they had to accept this reform.
"Are you aware of the anti-Sages movement that has been shaking the capital for several weeks?" the chamberlain tried in a desperate attempt to bring him back to reason. "Isn't it unwise to give them more power and visibility in this context? Think of your safety, your Highness."
"I'm perfectly safe, don't worry. None of these fanatics will dare to challenge me or attack me. The person of the Fire Lord will remain sacred and any attempt against me or a member of my family will be punished with the greatest severity. I will make sure that this is enshrined in our new Constitution."
The ministers fell silent after that. It would have been difficult for them to continue arguing without revealing the real reasons for their reluctance. Zuko couldn't believe how everything was going according to his sibling's plan. How well Azula had thought of everything! He was impatient to find her and show her the report of the meeting signed by all of his ministers.
The Sages, of course, immediately favored Zuko's proposal. Shyu did seem a little puzzled at first. But Aang's departure and his mysterious silence had finally convinced the Great Sage. Someone had to act as a safeguard to prevent Zuko from setting the world on fire.
In a week at most, the city's cupboards would be covered with posters proclaiming the new constitutional monarchy. Explanatory booklets would also be distributed to the entire population. Town criers would go and announce the news in the working-class districts where literacy levels were lowest.
Zuko was gripped by angst whenever he thought about how his people would react. The Sons of Agni would no doubt use this historic reformation to fuel their propaganda. But each time he expressed his doubts Azula silenced him, and she knew so well how to convince him... She alone managed to appease his fears. Now that he had announced the news to his ministers, he felt the need to see her even more intensely.
He was just arriving at her door. He superbly ignored the two guards posted at the entrance and pushed the double door open. A smile quivered on his lips as he approached her room. But it fainted when he saw her, still dressed in her nightgown and rolled into a ball over the cover of her bed. A cane was leaning against one of the pillars of the canopy. Azula must have had a bad day. She only consented to use her cane when the pain was really too insufferable and she couldn't move otherwise. Her pale face bore the stigma of the pain that must have tormented her all day. Zuko realized he hadn't seen her all day and felt his throat tighten with guilt.
"Azula?" he called her tentatively.
His sister jumped slightly and propped herself up painfully on her elbow. She hadn't heard him enter.
"Don't come in!" she said, hiding her face from him. "I look terrible! I don't even wear makeup!"
Zuko rolled his eyes and walked towards her with a confident step. He sat on the edge of the bed which sagged slightly under his weight and grabbed Azula's arm to force her to show her face, but she turned her head away.
"Did you have a bad day?" he said, glancing at the abandoned cane on the pillar.
"I've known better," she confessed, lying back on her pillow, still without looking at him. "Taïma refused to give me more painkillers. She fears that I will grow dependent. As if that mattered at all!"
"Taïma is right, and I want you to listen to her advice. She always took good care of you. Where's Ty Lee?" he asked, looking around the room, expecting to see the young acrobat appear from behind the couch.
"Outside", Azula said evasively.
She looked exhausted and downcast.
"I came to tell you some good news. I'm just leaving the Ministers Council."
"Ah yes," she said indifferently. "It's true that it was today. I had forgotten."
This lack of enthusiasm worried Zuko even more than the blue circles that were spreading under his sibling's eyes. A little taken aback, he continued:
"I told them about our project. From next week, the first posters will be ready."
"Perfect", she answered laconically, still refusing to show him her face.
Zuko was disappointed. He had expected a warmer welcome.
"Did you take your medication this morning?" he asked, slightly suspicious.
Azula sighed: "Yes, I took it. Ty Lee makes sure of it from the first light of day. This morning, when I opened my eyes, she was already there with her stupid happy smile and the vial in her hand. I thought I had an attack!"
Zuko smiled at the evocation of this scene. He took off his cloak and overcoat, keeping only his short-sleeved tunic and his pants and lay down on the bed, next to Azula, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. Azula's hand immediately landed on his, a light veil that made him shiver, and she approached him, taking care to hide her bare face from him. Zuko's heart fluttered.
"You should have seen their faces when I announced to them that I wanted to entrust the legislative power to the old farts! Kando's mouth was so wide open that I thought his jaw was going to drop!" He sneered.
"Mmh…" she replied distractedly, leaving Zuko's hand to run her fingers over his chest where she started tracing circles. Zuko held his breath, fighting with all his strength against the intrusive thoughts that these caresses were bringing to his mind. He longed to take Azula's hand and lead it lower. His pulse throbbed furiously in his throat, and he wondered if it was his heart or Azula's that he felt drumming in his chest.
She was so close… Time seemed to have slowed down. Was he dreaming or had Azula just let her hand slip a few inches lower? Zuko withdrew his, almost unconsciously, leaving Azula free to continue her descent. Their breathing quickened in unison and for Zuko, it was proof that she was thinking the same thing as him. The tension was such that Zuko thought his chest was going to explode.
What are you waiting for? She is dying for it too… It will have to happen one day or another. Come on, take her hand and enjoy what she has to offer. Just a few caresses, it's not that bad. She already did it and no one knew about it.
Azula's nimble fingers slid quietly over his chest, and she gently tickled the sensitive skin just above Zuko's navel.
He had to see her face, to know if she wanted it too. Then he would know what to do. He turned his head, and they were face to face, close enough to kiss. They blushed simultaneously. Unable to stand it any longer, Zuko stood up abruptly, making the mattress shake. Azula let out a cry that could express indignation as well as pain.
"What's wrong with you?" she shouted at him furiously.
"Nothing, he apologized, "It's just that after all these debates, I realized that I've not drunk a drop of water. I am dying of thirst! Do you want something?"
He didn't wait for her answer and walked over to the sofa, in front of which was a tray with a pitcher of fresh water, a bowl of cherries and two glasses. He nervously grabbed the first one he found and poured himself a good amount of water, which he drank the wrong way in his haste.
When he was done coughing, he noticed Azula who had sat back down and was staring at him, sharp contempt imprinted on her delicate features. She looked disappointed too.
More to keep himself in countenance than anything else, Zuko walked over to the desk and pretended to be interested in the documents piled on the black oak surface.
It was then that something caught his attention.
"What is that?" he asked brusquely, grabbing the parchment from the top of the pile.
The word "Mother" was inscribed on the address.
"Don't touch that!" she immediately burst into anger.
He turned to see her standing at the foot of her bed. She held her cane so tightly that Zuko could see the knuckles of her fingers turning white. A glint of rage passed in her eyes and he immediately put the parchment back where he had found it.
"Do you write to… to Mom?" he asked her so quietly that he wasn't sure she had heard him. "How? Do you...do you know where to find her?"
"No, of course not… It's just that… Well… It's just a letter, nothing more. A stupid letter she will never read."
Zuko stared at her for a moment, bewildered. Azula was still standing, leaning on her cane, but her shoulders were oddly hunched, betraying grief and discouragement. Her makeup-free mouth was frozen in a quivering grimace. Her eyes, resolutely directed towards the ground, suddenly became very bright.
The expression on her face was perfectly heartbreaking. Before he could help himself, he felt his legs pull him towards her. Zuko had to reason with himself not to hug her.
He no longer wanted to risk getting too close to her intoxicating scent. He simply put a shy hand on her shoulder, which sagged a little more.
"Do you...do you still see her?"
Azula remained silent. But the way she hid her eyes with her free hand and clenched her jaw seemed ominous.
"Azula…" he whispered as he approached her. "You must tell me if you are having hallucinations again. We can fix that. All you have to do is talk to Taïma about it. She will adjust your dose."
"I don't see her anymore, okay?" she snapped. "It's just that… No… You're going to think I'm stupid."
"Never!" he assured with such passion that he felt a little ridiculous.
This must have given Azula courage since she confessed, without looking at him:
"It's just that yesterday was…her birthday.'
Zuko stood still, unable to speak for several seconds. It seemed to him that in his chest, an iron hand was crushing his heart. He had forgotten, simply forgotten. He did a quick calculation. If she was alive, somewhere in the world, Ursa must be turning forty-three. And he was here, rejoicing at having been able to convince his ministers to make a stupid decision, hoping for sulfurous caresses from his own sister. Gods! What kind of man had he become?
"Don't you think-" Azula continued in a low voice that didn't sound like her, "-that all this time, if she was alive, she would have come back...to find you?"
"To find us," he corrected. "She would have come back for both of us", he asserted, placing his second hand on her other shoulder.
A whiff of jasmine passed through his nostrils and he closed his eyes for a few seconds to drive away the procession of forbidden thoughts that accompanied this sensation.
Azula looked away, determined not to be convinced.
Zuko and Azula had rarely brought up the subject. He learned very quickly, from the first visits to the asylum, to avoid any allusion to their missing mother. One thing leading to another, he had told her the little he knew about her, what Ozai had deigned to reveal to him: Ursa's involvement in Azulon's death, her sudden departure to protect Zuko... That was the first time Azula broached the subject on her own. He had to be tactful and subtle.
Not your main qualities obviously, sneered a small, sarcastic voice in his head that sounded like Mai's.
He wondered what his sister was really dreading: that their mother was dead, taking her secrets with her? Or that she was still very much alive, but that she expressed no desire to see her children again...much less her monster of a daughter?
Without thinking, he nervously slipped a hand into his trouser pocket and his fingers touched the small gold medallion he kept there. Should he show it to her? Tell her about it?
Zuko feared that the discovery of the locket would completely upset his sister. So he took his hand out of his pocket and rested it on her shoulder.
"We will find her. I swear."
Azula replied with a small sniffle and Zuko looked down at her, only to see the tears clinging to her eyelashes like dewdrops to the grass in the spring. He fought the urge to put his mouth on her eyelids to make them disappear.
As Azula pretended to lean against him, he shoved her slightly and backed away a few steps.
The hurt expression that appeared on Azula's face was like a stab in the heart.
Depriving her of his comfort cost him an almost heroic effort. But he had no choice. A brother should have been able to hug his little sister without worrying about her breasts pressing a little too much against his chest, or without fearing to be tempted to let his hands wander a little too low down her back.
What a pervert! Mai's voice exclaimed with a mixture of amusement and revulsion.
The thought of Mai's betrayal pierced his heart and added to the pain he already felt. He only had Azula left. And she only had him in the world. Seeing her so vulnerable, leaning on her cane, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, her lower lip quivering with tremors she couldn't contain, he felt like the worst of brothers. When Azula finally let out the sob she was desperately holding back, he couldn't take it any longer and walked over to her again and leaned closer, close enough to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"I miss her too..."
"I don't!" she protested. "I'm not crying for this! It's just...I'm tired, I've had a rough day."
It was so obviously a lie, and a childish one, that he decided not to take it up. Instead, he cupped Azula's tear-soaked face in both hands and locked their eyes.
"Sometimes when I look at you like that, I think..."
His words froze in the air for a moment. Zuko paused to moisturize his mouth which had suddenly become very dry and Azula seemed to hold her breath.
"You look like her, you know…", he finished in a whisper.
It wasn't the right thing to say, nor what she wanted to hear. He realized it was a mistake the second the thoughtless words fell from his stupid mouth. Azula's face lost its colors as her eyes seemed to blaze.
Zuko felt himself blush and tried to stammer an excuse:
"I didn't mean… Not all the time. I... well, that's not why... It's just that you-you have the same hair. And the shape of your face… Well, I mean… You are very pretty!"
He could tell from the way she was staring at him in disbelief that he was sinking. He vaguely understood, without really being able to explain in words, that it was very awkward to compare Azula to their missing mother, and this for more than one reason.
He wondered if, at the moment, Azula was also thinking about what had almost happened on the bed only a few minutes earlier.
Azula pulled away and took a step back, her eyes filled with an expression that resembled disgust. He opted for another strategy. Heart pounding, he reached into his pocket again.
"Look," he began, moving closer, as if afraid Azula would pass out if he walked away from her. "I know our family is far from perfect. But here I am. And precisely, if I came, it's because… I wanted to give you a present. I didn't get you anything for your birthday because you were…well, you weren't in a bad health…so I thought I could give you this now…"
Azula remained silent and stared at him, puzzled. It was customary for the Fire Lord to offer gifts addressed to his family members in public. It was important for him to display a certain pomp in front of the courtiers in order to maintain, at all times, an illusion of prosperity.
Azula was not ignorant of this custom and that's probably why she found nothing to say. His cheeks flushed a little and Zuko felt nervous, wondering if this was really a good idea. But it was too late to back down. He took the artifact out of his pocket and handed it to Azula who didn't react right away.
She grabbed the locket and opened it. Then her eyes widened and she let out an indecipherable cry.
"Is that-?" she managed to whisper in a strangled voice.
"Yes", he breathed.
Zuko was relieved. The surprise and emotion caused by the locket seemed to have momentarily driven his terrible clumsiness from Azula's mind.
"How…" she whispered blankly. "How did you get it?"
"Uncle Iroh. June brought it to him."
"June who? Who's that? What are you talking about?"
Zuko then remembered that he had never spoken about June to Azula, and he didn't feel the courage to explain everything to her now. He opted for simplicity:
"A bounty hunter I hired to find Mother a few years ago. She found it on the stall of a flea market, very far from here."
Azula made an offended sound: "And you never considered it fit to tell me about it?"
"You knew I was looking for her! I never hid it from you!" Zuko retorted, indignant. He was getting tired of Azula's unpredictable reactions. He had hoped that she would fall into tears in his arms and that she would thank him for this magnificent gift.
Instead, his ungrateful sister tossed the medallion into a bowl on the desk and turned her back on it.
"Go away," she ordered. "I want to be alone."
"Azula-" he tried.
"No! Don't insist! I don't want to see you now. Please get out!"
He guessed from the way her voice broke that she didn't want him to see her cry. Better not insist.
"Very well, I'll leave you then…" he said, stepping back to leave the room. "See you for dinner?"
She didn't respond. When he reached the door that separated him from the hall, he thought he heard a sob in the distance, but he didn't turn around.
Left alone, Azula clung to the tray of her desk so as not to fall. Her legs had gone cottony the moment she recognized the pendant. She had seen it so often worn around her neck. And it was there. With two yellowed portraits inside: that of Zuko, and hers. Hers!
Azula couldn't have named the emotions that washed over her one by one. How could her stupid brother dare to hide such a discovery from her? He had wanted to keep Mother for himself, that selfish bastard! He had always had her just for him. Why couldn't he share a little? She was her mother too!
Azula wondered what had prompted him to offer it to her. She suspected that he hadn't come here with the intention of giving it to her, but that he had kept it in his pocket all this time, like a precious object.
Azula grabbed the medallion and stared at it. It had nothing extraordinary and yet it had just kindled something in the gaping chasm in her heart. Azula thought back to Zuko's awkward comparison a few minutes earlier and felt overwhelmed with grief. Did Zuko only love her because she looked like Ursa? What would happen when he remembered that she was also Ozai's daughter? Would he reject her again? What if by some miracle they succeed to find her? Would he still look at her?
Where could Mother be now? Had this medallion been stolen from her? Had they torn it from her corpse? Azula closed her eyes, unable to contemplate the thought.
An image flashed through her mind, as absurd and silly as it was seductive. Azula gave a mirthless laugh. One moment she had seen herself riding alongside Zuko through some muddy Earth Kingdom swamp, the medallion hidden in the collar of her tunic, looking for Ursa. Far from all this mess, from all these intrigues, far from all these enemies who wanted their destruction.
But she immediately made up her mind. You don't leave everything to run after ghosts. It was more like Zuko to abandon his nation to engage in futile adventures with uncertain outcomes. She had to stay reasonable, she had to keep thinking and do everything to make Zuko a feared and respected monarch. This was her fate. She had adopted the idea during those long years spent in the asylum.
She also shoved away the other image that had popped up in her head: that of her brother and her, tightly entwined in some seedy inn, finally allowed to love each other far from the gaze of their peers, overwhelmed with happiness, free to do whatever they wanted.
But it wasn't for them. This life of fugitives and star-crossed lovers was not for them. Zuko had been very clear about that on Ember Island. He didn't want to hear any more about the possibility of a romantic affair between them. Of course, he wasn't completely insensitive to her charms. She felt it every time she got close to him or touched him. But her mother's ghost had told her so: "He may desire you, but he doesn't love you. Not as you would like."
"And you?" she whispered to the locket, gently stroking her own weathered portrait. "Did you love me?"
No voice answered her, but closing her eyes, she could almost imagine a warm presence enveloping her. The sensation lasted a few seconds and faded almost immediately, then the cold returned to her heart.
Mom must have died. Or else she had gone to live elsewhere. She had gotten rid of this medallion, a simple charm without any value in her eyes. The object must have reminded her of a life she probably preferred to forget. Zuko had told her about the letters written by Ursa and found in Ozai's office. The letters she had never dared to send. Words addressed to her parents whom she had never seen again, to her childhood friends, to her fiancé from whom she had been forcibly taken to marry the prince of the Fire Nation. Zuko had never allowed her to read them and claimed to have destroyed them. But Azula was sure he was lying. He just thought she was too emotional to read them.
Ursa must have resold the medallion for a few coins, without a regret, without a thought for the two portraits, the last ties that attached her to her children.
Azula limped towards her bed. The emotion had made her forget the stabbing pain, but it returned now. Beads of cold sweat beaded on her forehead when she finally reached the bedside table with costly effort. With trembling fingers, she pulled out a parchment: the portrait she had made from memory a few weeks earlier to replace the one that had disappeared after her return from prison.
With a grimace of pain, tears in her eyes, Azula slowly leaned on her side, Ursa's portrait resting carefully on her pillow, the locket in her hand.
She fell asleep gazing at them both.
Her dreams were filled with green meadows, multicolored birds, starry nights, inns with a rowdy atmosphere from which burst the laughter of travelers, happy to come and stop there. She dreamed of winding, rocky roads, of great lakes with shimmering emerald waters. And at the end of the journey, Ursa was there, holding out her arms to her two children, a beaming smile engraved on her pretty face so similar to hers. As she had seen her the last time.
All three finally reunited.
I hope you enjoyed.
I will be honest: I don't know if I will continue to post here. I feel more and more like I'm writing inthe void and I don't really like how this site works. I haven't decided yet but I'm thinking about it.
In any case, you can always find me on AO3 (same username).