Thanks to the two readers who comment on my last chapter. You motivated me to post this one.
Good reading!
Chapter 33 – Two Kings and an Assassin
A hot wind swept over the steep ridges of the volcano, carrying clouds of yellow dust. Dead leaves sometimes swirled, torn from the few dried-trunks trees that had managed to grow here and there in the arid ground lava flows and successive explosions made sterile.
The Avatar was waiting there, standing with his back straight, his heart overflowing with worry. He had spent the last hour meditating to free his chakras of all the negative emotions that had been gnawing at him since the morning.
Zuko would come. That was for sure. Lu Fang might have cut off all communication between Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation, but he could do nothing against an experienced airbender. At least that was what Aang liked to think. There was probably more reliable messengers than Momo. But Lu Fang's spies weren't looking for lemurs when they scanned the skies, and Momo, like Appa, seemed to be fond of Zuko. The brave lemur had returned to Aang without his message and one could hope that he had succeed in his mission. He was now quietly hovering around Aang gobbling up the brown-winged butterflies that ventured into these hostile lands.
Aang knew that just like him, Zuko liked to come and contemplate the Caldera from its heights. At least if Momo had sloughed the message, it was still possible to meet him here. The two of them would often come here to chat, far from prying ears. They would talk about everything: politics, firebending, their past travels.
About girls also...
How Aang missed those futile conversations! But the woman who was now turning the Fire Lord's head wouldn't have inspired such pleasant discussions, he considered with a sigh.
Zuko had to come. It was the only way to avoid an almost imminent war. Would he have become reasonable? Or had Azula had time to poison his mind and darken his easily corruptible heart?
Aang thought of Sokka whom he had left behind in Haru's village with the little Hou-Tin. Aang was very fond of kids and longed to have his owns. They sometimes talked about it with Katara. But he had to admit that Kuei's daughter had a thing to curb the ardor! He was very relieved to be rid of her and he thought with a guilty smile of poor Sokka, forced to share with the little brat a cabin on the ship that was taking them to the Southern Air Temple where Katara and Suki were waiting for them. .
Kuei was waiting with Appa, hidden in a cave on the volcano's western slope. The poor man looked so downcast. He had done his best to maintain a serene mood as long as they traveled with the little one, but since their separation, Aang struggled to extort more than a few sentences from him a day. He hoped the man would be more talkative in front of Zuko.
Leaning down, Aang spotted a red dot advancing towards the summit and progressing at a good pace. His heart pounded in his chest.
Come on, calm down. He's your best friend. Despite everything that's happened, you will find a way to forgive each other, aren't you?
Aang was relieved that Zuko came alone. But he thought that if Azula did not accompany him, it was probably not by choice but rather because of her injuries which still prevented her from walking for a long time.
Zuko reached the summit ten minutes later and when they came face to face, keeping a distance of at least ten feet between them, Aang felt his insides liquefy.
The golden eyes staring at him weren't those of a friend.
Momo fluttered happily around Zuko who remained indifferent to the lemur's displays of affection.
"I got your message," Zuko said coldly. "What do you want? I thought we were done with each other."
"With each other, maybe," Aang retorted in a solemn tone that was unlike him. "But I brought someone with me who would like to talk to you. If you accept of course."
Zuko didn't answer immediately. He looked around suspiciously, as if he expected the mysterious companion to appear from behind a rock and to shout "Surprise!" at him. When he was sure they were alone, he raised a questioning eyebrow in Aang's direction.
"The last time we saw each other, I asked you to find a way to bring peace to our world. I brought back the person we need. If you agree to listen to him, I will take you to him and consider us quits for what happened on Ember Island."
Zuko remained silent, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. His hands clenched into fists and Aang was certain that, like him, he was thinking about the details of that horrifying scene on the beach. Somewhere, deep inside, Zuko must be regretting that it had come to this. The friendship between Zuko and Sokka seemed broken. Did it have to be the same for the whole group?
Aang waited, his heart pounding faster, feeling his pulse flutter in his throat. Even Momo seemed to have seized the gravity of the moment and stopped flying. He came to rest on Aang's shoulder and waited too, his huge beady eyes fixed on the Fire Lord.
Zuko looked around as if hoping for support and finally, he nodded once.
Aang felt a little lighter and gave Zuko a smile that remained unanswered.
I guess I'll have to settle for that.
He gestured for Zuko to follow him and they began to descend towards the western slope of the volcano, being careful not to walk side by side.
If someone – someone reckless who wouldn't care for life, for example – had asked Buntaro why he had chosen this profession, he would have been hard pressed to answer. What can drive the son of an honest, well-educated colonial silk merchant to take up the career of an assassin?
Buntaro would probably have replied to the unconscious one that it was a combination of circumstances, chance encounters. Like with those Earth Kingdom bandits who had invaded the village where he lived with his mother in the colonies, while his father was doing business in town. This scarred_face man with mud-colored eyes who had raped and tortured his mother in front of him. Buntaro thought that was the day when his hatred of the world and of men was born.
It had taken ten years, and his meeting with the love of his life for him to regain hope and forget the desire for revenge that darkened his soul. She had known how to transform his hatred and make it constructive. Buntaro would become a soldier, protect the colonies and thus prevent other children from suffering like him.
Then there had been those pirates who had put an end to his military ambitions and his dreams. A new part of him had died that day. They had killed the young optimist who dreamed of serving his country by putting down the rebels in the colonies. When the bandits had set fire to his ship, killing the entire crew, his best friend and his young fiancée, Buntaro had sworn revenge. He had memorized every detail of the face of the brute who had slit his pretty girlfriend's throat before his eyes, as well as the cruel gaze of the Captain who laughed heartily while his men emptied the holds of the ship and captured the women for their personal pleasure. His had not had the chance to be selected for this life of misery. Sometimes Buntaro thought that it was perhaps better that way.
The half-wild island where his makeshift raft had brought him placed him in the path of a group of Yuyan archers who trained here in great secrecy. They had welcomed him and taught him everything. Buntaro found out he had certain abilities for archery. As an energetic, meticulous young man and skilled firebender, he had quickly become one of the best.
When Prince Ozai had come in person, concealed under a cloak that hid his face, to offer himself the service of these legendary warriors, Buntaro had already completed his training and had been chosen to accompany the Fire Lord's second born.
On the long way back to Crescent Island, distant at first, Buntaro had the opportunity to speak with the young prince. He had been captivated by his speech.
"My father's overly lax policy has allowed vermin to swarm our lands. Azulon was a great Fire Lord in his youth, but he is now an embittered old man and he is in decline. He transmitted his softness to my older brother, the heir to the throne. With him, the Fire Nation is doomed to decay. I have other ambitions for our great country."
Buntaro had listened carefully and recognized himself in his words. He too had ended up blaming Fire Lord Azulon for what had happened to his loved ones. He told his story to Ozai and the latter had assured him:
"When I am on the throne, I will no longer allow such tragedies to occur. I will constitute an armed fleet so powerful that no more pirates will survey the seas of this world. All I need is support from promising young warriors like you, Buntaro. You're the kind of person I was looking for."
And Ozai had kept his promise. Over time, what could be likened to a friendship was born between the prince and this nameless merchant's son. Ozai gave him the opportunity to take partial revenge. The first man Buntaro killed with his bare hands was the monster who had kill his fiancee. Shedding blood hadn't scared Buntaro.
It was to him that Ozai entrusted the task of ending Fire Lord Azulon's suffering when the poison poured into his tea had reached his internal organs, causing unbearable pain and irreversible burns.
After that, he had become the devoted servant of the new Fire Lord. He was there, in the crowd, when Ozai had challenged his own son for an Agni Kai. Buntaro hadn't even shuddered when he heard the screams of the young boy writhing on the ground, nor the sobs of his sister who had thrown herself on him after their father had left and who was screaming, "Zuko! Zuzu! Answer me!"
Buntaro remembered thinking that if he had had a son, he wouldn't have acted any differently. Children need to learn respect. It was the role of a father to prevent his son from going astray. Rebellion leads to delinquency, delinquency to banditry and vice. And that was what had happened. Fire Lord Zuko was nothing but a failure, a parody of a king. He had sold the soul of the Fire Nation and offered it to the Earth Kingdom motherfuckers and the peasants of the Frozen Lands of the North and the South.
Now he was wallowing in depravity with his own sister whom it was said he had also corrupted.
At least that was what Buntaro believed until tonight.
Sometimes, just before sleeping, Buntaro would ponder his life choices. But he quickly put aside his useless scruples. An assassin was in no way like a bandit. Buntaro was convinced that the cause he served was noble.
Since the fall of the Phoenix King, Buntaro hadn't had much work. His companions had dispersed. Some had been caught and taken prisoner, others had fled or had managed to avoid trial and were now leading the life of traitors. They slept in silk sheets when Buntaro had seen his fortune decrease. He had finally taken over his father's buisness. They hadn't seen each other in years, and Buntaro soon realized that the only family member he had left didn't approve of his life choices. Father died a short time later, carried away by a mysterious disease and Buntaro had inherited his business which had already been in decline for years. The pomp of Ozai's rule had given way to a policy of austerity that Zuko imposed on his people, considering they had to pay for their war crimes.
Buntaro had been hopefull when the Sons of Agni had started to come out of hiding. But Buntaro had very little interest in religious fanatics. He didn't like their ideology, nor their savage methods. Buntaro was the methodical type. He liked clean, well-done work. In his eyes, the Sons of Agni were amateurs at best, butchers at worst.
Killing in the name of an imaginary god made no sense to him. Agni had done nothing to prevent the massacre of his people. Father always asked him to love and respect Agni. But what was the point to do so?
Better to serve a man made of flesh and bones.
After Ozai's defeat, Buntaro had worked on his own, carefully selecting his clients. He chose them rich and only accepted causes he considered honorable or useful. But there was always, deep within him, the hope of seeing the phoenix reborn from its ashes.
So when the girl entered his shop wearing a long purple satin cape and a hood that concealed her eyes and gave him the password, Buntaro's interest was aroused. For five years, no one had ever uttered the secret words that made it possible to afford the precious services of the best assassin in the Capital.
The young woman walked around the shop several times, stroking the fabrics with the tips of her long pointed nails, as if to test their softness, trailing her fingers over the counter, looking for a speck of forgotten dust. But she could always search: in life as at work, Buntaro liked things to be clean.
"I have a job for you," his unexpected guest said quietly, looking around the shop. "A special mission that I can only entrust to a true professional, a truly loyal man. Did I knock on the right door?"
Her voice was like silk. She spoke with an unsettling mix of softness and assurance that Buntaro remembered hearing before. So he was not surprised when she finally removed her hood and revealed a beautiful face with well defined cheekbones, ivory skin, thick shiny ebony hair and deep looking amber eyes.
The young Fire Nation princess was as he remembered her. The last time, she was fourteen or fifteen years old and she was already a disturbing young girl with a bewitching beauty and a disarmingly observant silence. Today, probably in her twenties, she seemed even more beautiful and terrible.
Buntaro had never seen her without her father, whom she accompanied everywhere. He had expected her to come much sooner. She was said to have exemplary loyalty towards him. Yet it had taken her five years to walk through the door of the Phoenix King's most devoted servant.
"You're late," he pointed out.
"I had some impediments, it's true," the princess conceded, while playing with the key of the lamp that laid on the counter. "But here I am."
She opened the polished glass globe and pointed a finger at the wick. A mysterious blue glow enveloped the shop and Buntaro waited, fascinated in spite of himself.
They said she had lost her mind, that she had spent years in a madhouse. She was said to be a prisoner of the current Fire Lord. They called her his lover, his whore. The supporters of Ozai who had wanted to see in her the worthy heiress of their king had long since dispersed. There was no one left to believe in the loyalty or even in the value of this little bitch with her devilish eyes.
As if she had guessed his thoughts, she continued:
"I know what people say about me. Everyone thinks I'm eating in Zuko's hand, that I betrayed my father. I didn't come here to convince you otherwise. I did what it took to survive."
She spoke in a confident tone, without blushing, not trying to lure him.
"Since my dear brother freed me from the prison where he threw me, I spent my time thinking. I prepared everything for months. But I had to wait for the context to be favorable. I had to earn Zuko's trust, make sure of his affection. You can't imagine what I had to do, how far I had to demean myself to get a private interview with my own father."
Buntaro listened intently. Everything from the way she spoke to the way she moved reminded him so irresistibly of Ozai that he felt his heart swell.
"My daughter Azula is unfailingly loyal to me" he said. "I trust her absolutely. She would never betray me. She would give her life for me, just like you Buntaro. I want you to show her the same respect you demonstrate to me. I may send her to you one day. I want you to listen to her and accepteach of her requests."
It was a few weeks before the eclipse. Buntaro remembered it well. He remembered as if it were yesterday that Ozai and his daughter had entered his shop. She was dressed in a black armor, her hair pulled back in a bun like ancients warriors.
He had been surprised by the quiet composure that emanated from the princess, by her searching gaze and by the calm tone in which she spoke to him, an assassin who was twice her age, by her self-confidence, so strong that no one could doubt the value of her lineage.
I may send her to you one day.
What if that day had finally come?
"It's true that I have lost myself on the road. I renounced my father when I understood that he had no more chance to take back the throne. I did everything I could to put my brother on the right track, to make him the worthy son of Ozai. Zuzu is an easily influenced man and, I confess, I had the pretension of changing him. But I failed. When my brother realized what I was doing, he and his wife plotted against me: they tried to destroy me. They accused me of having tried to seduce him, thrown me in prison, deprived me of medical care, abandoning me to my madness. They even attempted against my life. He finally stripped me of the crown that he had returned to me a year earlier. Zuko took everything from me. Now that I'm no longer a threat, he has free hands to lead our nation to its ruin."
Buntaro didn't take his eyes off her. Everything was really perfectly mastered: the cold anger that pierced through her voice, the tears she held back at the edge of her eyelids.
"Why does he keep you at the palace?" he asked, wanting to know more.
"Zuko needs me to reflect the image of an attentive monarch. A ruler who takes care of his family takes care of his subjects. Plus, it allows him to keep an eye on me and prove to his people that he's superior to me. In the minds of many people, I remain his rival and his enemy. He prefers to keep me here in a golden prison, rather than send me away and take the risk of seeing me rally opponents. I had to deploy treasures of ingenuity to come find you this evening."
Buntaro fell silent. The princess must have guessed his distrust:
"It would be presumptuous of me to ask you to believe me without proof. That's why I brought you this."
The young woman searched for a moment in the pocket of her cloak and placed an envelope yellowed by time, still sealed, on the counter.
"What's that?" Buntaro mumbled, stung in spite of himself.
Buntaro was not the curious type. But something about this girl, something he had only seen in Ozai until then, intrigued him deeply.
"Open it," she ordered simply.
Buntaro obeyed and unsealed the envelope. It contained a single piece of parchment with only a few inscriptions: a name and an address.
"Who is this? The person you want me to..."
"The name and address of the man who killed your mother," Azula interrupted. "My father treasured it in a hiding place only him knew. That's how he bought your loyalty, am I wrong?"
She wasn't. Buntaro took a moment to digest the emotion the piece of parchment had just stirred in him.
Azula continued in a quiet voice, as if she hadn't just given him an information that would change his life: "You must have noticed, I am sure, that for the past few months the nation has been experiencing a period of unprecedented decadence for a hundred and fifty years at least. You know that Zuko has conceded half of his power to ambitious old men, too cowardly to oppose the enemies who crowd at our doors and create a permanent climate of insecurity. While he hides in the palace, hoping for the storm to pass, men like your mother's murderer do as they please. You see, such fights are not worthy of my brother's attention."
Buntaro stared at the parchment in disbelief, holding it firmly between his trembling fingers, focusing on memorizing each sign so he would never forget the name that was inscribed on it. He remembered this conversation perfectly, the day when Ozai had promised him that he would give him the opportunity to avenge his mother.
"But before that," he'd said, "I want you to prove your loyalty to me repeatedly. When I judge that you have served me enough, you will be freed from your oath and you will be able to avenge your loved ones."
Unmoved by the storm unfolding in the hitman's mind, Azula was still speaking:
"I propose that you put an end to this decline and help me restore all its strength and all its greatness to our nation. I offer you to help me restore order and security, as in my father's time. The Phoenix King relies on your loyalty. He told me about you during my last visit. He has always held you in very high regard and you are one of the only ones he still trusts. That's why he told me where to find this precious envelope. He needs you, Buntaro. I need you."
Buntaro couldn't help but feel flattered by these marks of attention from a man who was said to be reduced to nothing but who would forever have, in his heart, the face of the ideal sovereign.
Azula suddenly threw a purse of gold on the counter. It was heavy judging by the noise the coins made as they hit the metal tray.
"Tell me, Buntaro, how far are you willing to go to express your loyalty?"
Buntaro walked over to the counter, grabbed the purse and undid the knot. Coins clinked against the hard surface of the counter. The blue glow of the lamp gave them a greenish hue, close to old bronze. Buntaro grabbed a coin and twirled it deftly between his fingers. It had been a long time since he had seen so much money. He looked up at the waiting princess, her scarlet lips set in a mysterious smile.
"The Phoenix King knows he can count on my unwavering loyalty. Command, Princess, and I will execute. I will be your sword."
Azula's smirk widened.
"I hope you're not too afraid to get your hands dirty. What I'm going to ask you might refresh the ardor of less scrupulous men."
"Don't worry about my hands, Princess. I am your man."
"Perfect, then this gold is yours."
Buntaro lifted the purse and weighed it.
"That's a lot of gold," he commented. "A big quarry?"
"Big enough to make you take great risks if you get caught. But I know I can count on your discretion."
The princess walked around the counter and walked through the shop, humming a lullaby. He couldn't help noticing that she was afflicted with a slight limp, as if a recent injury was hampering her movements. He thought back to the rumors of a recent attack on her person, and what she had said about her brother and the Fire Lady plotting against her.
Azula ran her hand through the fabrics again as if appreciating their quality. Eventually, she pulled out a deep red piece of fabric, one of Buntaro's finest pieces, and pulled it towards her.
"I'll take that. I guess there's enough in this purse for a little extra."
She walked over to the counter again and put down a second envelope.
"The name of our quarry," she explained. "Everything is written in there. You will burn it the moment you read and memorize the instructions. We will meet again soon."
Then without giving him time to answer, she put her hood back on and rushed through the door, which closed with a sharp bang, leaving Buntaro alone with his thoughts.
When he had put his thoughts in order, he opened the envelope.
Of all the high places of the Air Nomad people, the Southern Temple was Katara's favorite. Aang had so well described her the laughter, the games, the ceremonies, the peaceful flight of the bisons around the buildings… So well that she sometimes had the impression to have lived with him this bygone era. Katara often found herself feeling nostalgic for a time she had never known.
Of course she hadn't forgotten the sad state in which she had discovered this temple the first time, more than six years before, with Aang and Sokka. How everything had changed! The weeds had given way to splendid white lilies, swarms of snow carnations and purple gentians. The almost erased wall frescoes had regained their colors of yesteryear thanks to the meticulous work of the nuns and monks who now settled the temple.
What was once an open grave was now a lively place, filled with laughter and serenity. The Air Acolytes whom Aang taught his culture were overflowing with enthusiasm and goodwill, and life here was very pleasant. Aang's hopes of seeing sons of the Air reborn among the Acolytes had yet to materialize. However, he remained convinced that the mystical charge of the place and the determination of his disciples would be rewarded by the Spirits and that one day the first airbender for more than a century would be born here. His prayers hadn't been heard yet but he clung to the idea. While awaiting this miraculous rebirth, Aang and his acolytes spent their free time restoring the temple, maintaining it, and learning about the culture and traditions of the most peaceful people the world had known before they were wiped out by the devouring ambition of one man.
Two years earlier, they had discovered the first herd of flying bison in a hundred years. Katara still remembered her emotion, and that of Aang when, on Bhanti Tribe Island, they had seen the last specimens of this celestial species, bred out of sight by a young girl barely older than them who took care of them like her own children.
It was very naturally that she had told them how these animals, captured during the Genocide of the Air Nomads, had been given to her ancestors, modest cowmens. Fire Lord Sozin himself had come to them, followed by four bearers, each holding a cage in their arms. Inside each box shivered a baby bison, last survivors of the massacre. Two males and two females.
She told them how Sozin had ordered his ancestor to breed these beasts to train them for the battleshield. The herdsman didn't really had the choice.
But when it turned out that these animals were less bellicose than lambs, Sozin entered into a rage and ordered the herdsman to get rid of these useless beasts.
Heartbroken at the idea of slaughtering his herd now made up of a dozen individuals, the cowman had returned home. He had told his wife and daughter everything. It was the little one who had the idea of riding on the back of her favorite bison. For the first time since he raised them, the herdsman witnessed the flight of these huge animals. Without taking the time to think, he and his wife had each mounted a young bison and they were gone, the rest of the herd following them. They had landed on Bhanti Tribe Island, a land forgotten and despised by the rest of the nation. The locals had taken them in, and they had been living here ever since, the girl had told Aang and Katara, fascinated and moved to tears.
Since then, the breed had flourished and bison had been raised here for three generations, in the greatest secrecy. It was with joy that she had entrusted Aang with some little ones, on the condition that they were not separated from their mother before being weaned. Aang had thus been able to repopulate the Air Temples and the nuns and monks took great care of them.
At the Southern Air Temple, dozens of bison with silver coats were now seen flying lazily around the living quarters, playing with the young acolytes, lying on their backs to receive petting.
Katara smiled as she watched a female and her three cubs take off in front of her and whirl for a moment in the air before heading towards the snowy summits of the vertiginous peaks that disappeared into the clouds.
But her smile widened even more when the bison she had so longed to see finally appeared, coming out of nowhere, as if he had been brought forth by the sun itself whose dazzling disk shone above her, darting heatless rays.
Autumn had largely begun in this part of the world. The surrounding trees had taken on shimmering colours, ocher, vermeil and brown, which delighted the temple's inhabitants. Temperatures were starting to drop. After the furnace of this endless summer in the Fire Nation, Katara had been relieved to find a more clement climate.
Appa began his descent, tracing a smaller and smaller spiral in the ether and he landed gently, raising a cloud of dead leaves. A smile on his face and eyes sparkling with joy, Aang waved to Katara and he helped his passenger to get off the back of the bison before joining his fiancée whom he hugged tenderly.
"Did you have a nice trip?" she inquired, although that was not the question she was dying to ask him.
"Perfect. No incident to report. I'm so happy to be here. How is Suki?"
"Fine," Katara replied with a smile. "She's resting. I think her belly has doubled in size since the last time you saw her. And you know what?" she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I believe this child will be a waterbender! The first waterbender of the South Pole since I was born!"
"No kidding?" Aang answered, amazed. "How can you know?"
"I felt something trying to hear the baby's heart the other day. Something I had never perceived before when examining a pregnant patient. I'm sure it was its chi, and it was that of a waterbender!"
"Awesome!" her fiancé exclaimed, hugging her and kissing her. "I'm so happy for you, guys!"
Katara was grateful for his enthusiasm. Others than Aang would have had a hard time concealing their bitterness. But the fact that his own people had been annihilated for decades did not prevent him from rejoicing that another was rising from its ashes.
Anyway, deep down, Katara was sure of it. She would one day give birth to the first child of air in over a hundred years. And she knew that even if he didn't dare to say it out loud, Aang harbored the same hope.
"Where's Hou-Tin?" a timid voice chanced behind them.
Katara jumped slightly. Delighted to find Aang, she had completely forgotten his companion.
Kuei looked exhausted from the trip. His hands were shaking a little and Katara guessed that his diplomatic mission hadn't been easy.
"She's fine," she reassured him. "She's with Sokka and Suki watching the babies-bisons. She's doing great, I can tell you!"
"You see me delighted!" he rejoices, a smile lighting up his long face. "Babies-bisons you say? How fascinating it must be! Can I...?"
"Sure!" Katara invited, touching his shoulder. "Peima will take you to them."
A young acolyte with a pleasant face was heading towards them to greet Aang and take care of Appa who stuck out his huge tongue to show her his affection. Peima narrowly avoided it with a big laugh and it was Kuei who received the bison's gift. It didn't seem to offend him, on the contrary. He looked as happy as if he had been told that the world was at peace again by some miracle.
He followed Peima obediently. Katara watched them go, Appa hovering a few feet above them, shadowing them like a huge rain cloud.
Finally alone with Aang, she turned to him for a kiss a little less wise than the previous one.
"Everything went well here?" Aang muttered, looking down at her.
"Very well. But enough talk. I'll tell you everything later. I have a mission for you and it can't wait any longer."
With a smile, Aang allowed her to lead him up to the large tower where the living quarters and the bedroom he shared with Katara were located.
An hour later, his mission accomplished, happy and content with himself, Aang, one arm slung behind his head and the other holding Katara to his bare chest, was slowly catching his breath.
"So?" he smiled at Katara whose sapphire eyes shone with same happiness. "How did Sokka get away with the little demon?"
"I think he lost at least ten pounds! He has terrible dark circles and he came to wake me up the other night. He had a bag on his back and he handed me a letter begging me to explain to Suki that he couldn't stay. He no longer felt capable of raising a child!"
Aang frowned, a little taken aback. Katara kept smiling though.
"Of course he came to his senses when I squirted him with water to reason with him. He admitted it was a stupid idea and immediately went back to Suki to apologize. The poor girl didn't understand anything and I had to bite my cheeks when she told me about it the next day! I think Sokka is panicking a bit now that the birth is approaching! But I understand him: Kuei's daughter drove him crazy. If you saw her! She's horrible to everyone and she pulls hair out of babies-bisons! The other day, Sokka got kicked by a mother because he had to interposed between her and Hou-Tin. And after that, the little brat stuck out her tongue to him! Sokka still has a black eye from this incident! He likes to say it matches the color of his eyes," Katara added, shaking her head in dismay. "But it's pretty ugly if you want my opinion!"
Aang burst out laughing as he imagined the scene.
"Sokka will make an excellent father," he said. "He and Suki will be great."
"Yes, I'm sure," Katara replied gently. "But still, I can't wait to see my nephew or my niece throw snow and ice water on his face every time he or she doesn't want to obey!"
They both laughed and Aang pulled Katara closer to him. He felt with a delicious shiver the naked body of his fiancee press right against him under the covers and realized that he had not had enough of her.
"What is sure is that he will make a better father than Kuei. I don't see Sokka promising his daughter's hand to his enemy even to avoid a devastating conflict," Aang sighed.
"What? What are you talking about?" Katara shouted as she sat up abruptly, catching the covers just in time before they fell to the floor.
Aang closed his eyelids, as if to banish a great weariness, took a deep breath and told everything.
He told her about the meeting between Kuei and Zuko in the volcano cave, their long discussion, the king's cries and lamentations after hearing the Fire Lord's proposal. Then he explained how, two days later, in the Council Chamber, in front of all of Zuko's ministers assembled and in the presence of Shyu the Great Sage, Kuei had finally accepted the agreement and signed the engagement request, with a heavy heart.
Katara looked indignant:
"How could he? He is much older than her! How can Kuei accept… and how dare Zuko… I know he's lost his mind, but still!"
"I don't think he's pleased with the idea either. Apparently, he bowed to the will of the Sages," Aang explained. "Zuko promised Kuei that Hou-Tin would stay with her father until she turned eighteen, and only then would she meet Zuko."
"Sounds reasonable," Katara conceded. "Zuko will still be young enough to have children. But still," she pouted in disgust. "After this affair with Azula, I thought at least that he… Besides, now that I think about it, I imagine that she must not have appreciated this decision! How did she react?"
"I barely saw her, but apparently pretty well. If you ask me, she doesn't feel threatened. She's not stupid and she knows that Zuko will never marry her. I'm sure she prefers an arranged marriage to another love one that will inevitably overshadow her."
"She'll probably be content to be his lover as long as she can keep manipulating him," Katara growled.
An awkward silence fell between them. He guessed that imagining Zuko and Azula together in a bed, like she was right now with Aang, still made her feel sick.
"I wouldn't be far from thinking," Aang continued slowly, "that she had something to do with that idea. I can't see Zuko asking for another woman's hand without consulting Azula. He's too scared of her."
"Indeed, it sounds like the kind of twisted tricks she could imagine. And Kuei accepted? Without condition?"
"The Elders managed to convince him. And Zuko promised her that this marriage would be purely political. That he wouldn't force Hou-Tin into anything once they had their first child. He assured that she would be free to do whatever she wanted, and even to return to live in Ba-Sing-Se as soon as she left him an heir and officially remained his wife."
Katara's eyes widened in disbelief.
"And Kuei thinks it's a satisfying life? To have a child and only have the choice between staying with it and a husband she didn't choose, or abandoning it to go back home?"
"They are royalty," Aang replied, shrugging. "Political alliances are part of their traditions. I don't think Kuei ever considered a romantic marriage for his daughter. So when he saw in this engagement the possibility of preventing a war and allying himself with Zuko, he accepted. Moreover, Zuko clarified that if the marriage did not give an heir, the Fire Sages will elect a new Fire Lord."
"I can't get used to the idea," Katara said. "Did they make other decisions?"
Aang told her about the agreement between the two sovereigns. He explained that Kuei had promised the opening of humanitarian corridors to help the evacuation of the last settlers who were hiding in the Earth Kingdom. They would be welcomed into the Fire Nation metropolis. The former colonies would become Hou-Tin's property upon their marriage.
"But then, somehow, the colonies will remain under Zuko's control since they will be married?"
"You can put it that way," Aang sighed. "But Kuei prefers everything to war. What could I say? The priority is indeed to protect the victims of the violence and to stabilize the colonies."
"And what about Lu Fang?"
Kuei had publicly announced Lu Fang's betrayal. The former Minister of War was seen in the Earth Kingdom as a traitor and a criminal. A bounty has been put on his head."
"Retaliation from him is expected in the coming weeks. He managed to avert half of Kuei's army and he controls the Dai-Li. But the other half remain loyal to the Earth King, and Zuko's soldiers are ordered to work with them. Zuko and Kuei sent missives to the Northern Water tribes. We will see what their answer will be."
Katara took a moment to ponder, then spoke again:
"And the Sons of Agni? How will they react to the wedding announcement? They're not going to appreciate the Fire Lord marrying a foreign girl, are they? With their purebred nonsense, aren't you worried they're trying something?"
"I tried to talk to Zuko about it, but he wouldn't hear a word. He was adamant. He asserts that the Sons of Agni are not a priority. According to him, their actions remain on the sidelines and the priority is to stem Lu Fang's threat. He thinks the fanatics are not organized enough nor sufficiently armed to constitute a real threat.
"But they turn the people against Zuko. He's not afraid of a revolution?"
"The Sages rewrote the Constitution," Aang explained grimly. "They took me out and they gave Zuko more freedom to muzzle his opponents. They have created laws framing freedom of expression. In the Fire Nation, no one has the right, under penality of imprisonment, to say or write anything that offends the royal dignity."
"And Zuko accepts that?" Katara exclaimed, flabbergasted. "He who always said he didn't want to become a tyrant like his father!"
"Zuko says that in all circumstances, he now relies to the Sages' wisdom. I didn't manage to speak alone with him. As soon as the agreements were signed, Kuei and I were ordered to leave the territory."
"He has no right to drive you away like that! You are the Avatar!"
"Actually he has the right. It's his Nation. I'll always be there to keep the world balanced, but as long as Zuko doesn't do anything against the safety of his people or others, I have nothing to say. After all, you have to admit that he is trying. He renounced absolute power. The Fire Nation is now a constitutional monarchy. This is proof that he doesn't try to be a dictator, right?"
"Don't know," Katara grumbled. "This whole thing makes me uncomfortable. It's like he were hiding behind the Sages to carry out an authoritarian policy without admitting it."
"Maybe you're right," Aang said with a sigh. "I promise to watch this closely. Zuko isn't done with me. But for now I don't want to think about him anymore!"
Katara couldn't suppress a smile when Aang rolled her onto her back and began to peck her neck with hot little kisses.
When he moved down to her breasts and buried his face there, she closed her eyes to force herself to forget about Zuko, Azula, Kuei and all that sordid politics.
When Aang finally thrust himself inside her again, she took a deep breath and thought of nothing but her fiancé, the snowy peaks that seemed to protect them outside, and the silver coat of the bisons splitting the sky with their graceful flight.
"How much longer this has to last? I'm starting to have cramps!" Zuko grumbled discontent, letting die the flame that had been dancing for what felt like hours in his palm. He clenched and unclenched his fist several times to relax his hand. He put the other on his wrist to massage it, his face contorted in a painful grimace.
This guy really needs a live model to draw a vulgar flame in a hand? Zuko wondered . When you're the official painter to the royal family and you've painted loads of Fire Lord portraits, you should be able to paint that kind of detail with your eyes closed, right?
Sitting in the chair a few feet away, Azula sighed ostensibly, put her book down, looked up at him, and answered before the painter could reply:
"Don't be a baby! It would've been over a long time ago if you hadn't made such a big deal out of the clothes I ordered for you!"
"It's terribly hot in there! You have no idea! And it itches! I feel ridiculous. How did Father and Grandfather manage to wear such gear every fucking day?"
Shortening the official outfits had been one of Zuko's first decisions. The royal tailor had had so much work in the first few months to make Zuko's clothes both more relaxed, more airy and suitable for all situations, that he was since the happy owner of two magnificent luxury shops right in the center of the Caldera. Anxious to imitate the elegant and refined style of the new Fire Lord, courtiers flocked to his shops to snap up his creations.
"This is the Fire Lord's official ceremonial dress. All our ancestors have worn it for the occasion. You cannot appear alongside our ancestors in the great portrait gallery in your commoner's clothes! You have to wear it."
Zuko nearly choked:
"My commoner's clothes? Do you have any idea how much the tunic you forced me to take off cost me? It is embroidered with the purest gold threads and cut from silk that comes from the other side of the world! Just like the dress you're wearing today that I offered to you! I don't remember that you found reason to complain about it when you received it!"
Azula threw her long hair back and lifted her chin, an unbearable smile of satisfaction tugging her ruby lips.
"I am not the Fire Lord. I'm not even the princess anymore. I don't need to be seen in my formal attire. I'm just the king's sister. Besides, I don't need fancy clothes to look amazing. Father always said that I had what he called a natural elegance and a princely bearing. Despite your pretty face, you haven't inherited the same gift. And this scar doesn't help, even if I like it myself. So stop complaining and let the painter do his job. You will thank me when you see the result."
Pale with indignation, words failing him to retort something unpleasant to his sister, Zuko turned his eyes to the painter who was waiting in front of his canvas, looking very embarrassed, brush in hand, his color palette wedged in the crook of his elbow.
"Your Highness," he ventured in a tentative voice, "Would you like to take some rest? We could resume later."
Zuko was going to accept but Azula didn't give him time:
"No, stay here. I have paid you handsomely for this work and I expect you to be done on time."
"Azula," Zuko replied, deeply annoyed, "don't you think we have more urgent things to do than..."
"No! You've been delaying this project for more than a year already! You were only seventeen in your last official portrait, and no offense but you look like a grumpy, skinny, clumsy teenager! This is the portrait that will be displayed in all the administrations and in all the schools of the country. If you want to be respected, you have to project the image of a strong and intimidating man. Don't you agree, my dear?"
Taken aback, the painter almost dropped his brush and answered in a hesitant voice:
"Yes. Yes of course, Your Highness."
"Do you think I look like a skinny, grumpy teenager in my old portrait?" Zuko snarled, glaring at the painter.
He was prodigiously irritated and wished he were anywhere but in that overheated room. Terrorizing the painter had at least the merit of distracting him.
"No…no, of course, that's not what I meant!" the artist hastened to reply. "Your portrait is very…very impressive and very…royal… Only, the Princess is right to say that you would look more intimidating now that you are a little more…mature."
"Mature? Are you saying I look old, is that it? Insolent man!"
"No, no, Your Majesty! That's not what I meant. Pardon my clumsiness! You are very young! Very very young and very impressive!"
In her chair, Azula fidgeted a little and sat up. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she leaned forward, a smirk on her lips, as if she was afraid of losing a crumb of the show. She looked like she was having a lot of fun. And despite the exasperation she inspired in him, Zuko found himself feeling a little lighter and in a good mood at the idea of making her laugh. But the little game had lasted long enough and he was beginning to take pity on the poor man who was shaking uncontrollably. He thought about what Uncle Iroh would say and felt a little shameful.
"I like that better," he said, softening. "Now leave us. Go take some rest. We will resume the session in half an hour. You will have your painting in time", he added, turning to Azula who answered him with a knowing smile.
No need to prayed the painter for him to leave. He put his brush and palette on the easel and quickly stormed off.
As soon as he was gone, Azula, with a wave of her hand, made disappear the flames that had been dancing on the gigantic brazier in front of which the painter had asked Zuko to pose. The fire that formed a burning curtain made the atmosphere of the room almost unbreathable.
"How bossy you are," she teased seductively, getting up and swaying her hips towards him. "What a stature! If the same aura emanates from your portrait, your enemies will immediately lay down their arms, that's for sure!"
"That doesn't seem to scare you", he retorted, struggling against the thick, deep red coat that covered his shoulders.
Azula approached him. She helped him take off his coat, shoulder pads and dress and he could finally breathe, dressed in a simple short-sleeved tunic and baggy pants. Azula casually tossed the sumptuous garments on the floor and gently placed her hand on Zuko's arm and stroked it, lingering a bit on his bulging muscles.
"For me it's different. I have a thing for strong and virile men. Do you remember Chan? And that boy on your birthday? That's the kind of man that manages to pique my interest."
Zuko clenched his jaw and bit his tongue to hide the wave of jealousy that gripped his throat. It was stupid, so stupid. He hated himself for not being able to remain indifferent to her childish provocations.
"Now that you are getting married, I have to think about my future. Don't you think? Since I'm not really a princess anymore, this opens the door to plenty of suitors of lower-ranks. Ty Lee assures me that there are very handsome single boys among the young recruits of the Imperial Guard..."
"Stop talking nonsense!" he growled through gritted teeth. "We both know you don't want to get married any more than I do."
Azula chuckled.
"I thought so too but I'm afraid after all the time we spent together, that I've gotten too used to you and I will feel alone when you lock yourself with your wife in your room at night."
"That won't happen for years", he reminded her.
Are you stupid? he scolded himself. You could just as well offer her to become your concubine right now while waiting for the wedding!
"So let me enjoy my brother a little while I have him all to myself," she cooed, closing the distance between them. "These jealous people are unable to understand the strength of the bond that exists between a brother and his little sister."
Like a snake wraps its rings around its prey, Azula put her arms around Zuko's waist who received her in his and she rested her head against his chest.
"You're sweating", she noticed after a few seconds, wrinkling her nose.
"Whose fault? It's a real furnace here. The fire in the background, the flames in my hand, the unwearable costume… All this decorum is ridiculous and belongs to a bygone era. I can't believe you don't realize that."
"I know it, smartass," Azula said, nuzzling into his shoulder. "But if we want to ensure ourselves the support of the most reactionary fringes of our population, we have to play the game. Appearance is extremely important for them. They have been rocked by these images and this is how they need to see you."
"It's all about symbols..."
"People love symbols, Zuzu. Symbols reassure and assemble them. Our nation is more divided than ever. You must be the link between the different political sensibilities that compose it."
"You must be right, as always", Zuko sighed.
A comfortable silence settled. And as he held her against him, he felt all his frustration melt away and leave his body. Their faces were close together and he suddenly had to fight the urge to kiss her. Azula snuggled closer to him and her breasts crushed against his chest. He realized how thin and vaporous the silk of her robe was. No more than a veil that separated him from paradise. Zuko held his breath. The tension was at its height.
Zuko thought of Hachiko. He had planned to meet her tonight.
One last time, he promised himself.
It wasn't the first time he made such promise to himself. But it was necessary to evacuate all this tension, all these desires which assailed him day and night. He would have to find an excuse. If Azula crawled into his bed that night, as she used to do, and found it empty...
Maybe there would be time right after dinner, when Azula went with Ty Lee to the spa. He would pretend a solitary walk on the sides of the mountain. Azula hated "walking for nothing", as she said, and with her pains, she wouldn't insist on accompanying him. He would have come home for bedtime and Azula wouldn't know. Rid of his frustration, he could welcome her between his blankets, without staining his honor.
At the same time, Azula pulled away from him a little and took his hand. She guided him to the armchair where she made him sit and she knelt at his feet, both hands clasped on Zuko's lap and rested her chin on them. Zuko reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ears and Azula closed her eyes for a moment to savor the caress. After a while, she said softly:
"I know how much you hate all this ceremony, but it's important Zuzu. And so it is for both of us. You need to regain your self-confidence. As for me, I have nothing left. I am deprived of my crown, my reputation, my dignity. All I want is to help my beloved brother become a feared and respected ruler again. Do it for me, my dear, do it for us. Through you, I would have the impression of regaining a little of my greatness and especially the honor that was stolen from me. The honor he stole from me."
Zuko's insides liquefied. At the mention of Kojiro, anger boiled up inside him. He gently pinched Azula's chin between his fingers and forced her to look up at him. His heart swelled. Tears were streaming from her long eyelashes and her lips were quivering. He pulled her to him and made her sit on his lap. There he hugged her. Azula abandoned herself, like a child in her mother's arms.
Azula had only him in the world. And this thought saddened him as much as it filled him with a certain pride. The way she reacted upon receiving the medallion prompted Zuko to be more tactful with his sister. And she seemed to appreciate his efforts. Their argument had since dissipated and forgotten in a tenderness that Zuko tried to keep brotherly and in the fiery oaths he made to her almost every night.
He would give her back everything they had taken from her. And he would do it a hundredfold. She would reign at his side and the complainers would only have to be silent if they didn't want to suffer a punishment in line with their insolence.
He suddenly wanted to do something for her, and he already had his idea:
"Bring the painter back", he said confidently.
Azula looked up at him and Zuko shuddered as the tip of her nose brushed his chin.
"Are you ready to show these uneducated louts the full extent of your power?" she asked with a smirk, wrapping her arms around Zuko's neck.
How important he felt when they stood like that! The most beautiful woman in the nation, sitting on his lap! She was forbidden to him, it was true. Was that a reason to leave her to others? He had made her a promise and he intended to keep it.
"Better," he replied. "I made you a promise and I will keep it. I want to show them the extent of our power."
"I don't understand," Azula hesitated, frowning. "You're not thinking of having me pose by your side? It's too early! I doubt that will be interpreted correctly. No Fire Lord has ever posed in the gallery next to anyone of his family. Not even his wife." She blushed a little saying that.
"Of course, not. I will pose alone. I am the Fire Lord. But you were talking about symbols? Well when it comes time to kindle the fire, I want you to do so. The flames on my portrait will not be orange. I want them to be blue."
Various emotions flashed in his sister's amber eyes. Doubt, joy, fear, pride. He couldn't think of a good reason to pull away when she closed the short distance between them and feverishly pressed her lips against his.
It only lasted a moment. She released him almost immediately, before he had time to start responding. He hadn't recovered from his emotion that she had already got up. When he looked at her, he saw that Azula's cheeks were a deep red and her hands were shaking a little.
"Forgive me", she whispered softly, lowering her eyes. "I don't know what went through my mind. I know you don't feel that way..."
"It's nothing, it's fine," he replied in the same tone, anxious not to rekindle the embers of their disastrous argument on Ember Island. "It was an accident."
A kiss. It is just a kiss. It doesn't mean anything. Siblings do that all the time.
But Azula still didn't dare look at him. He could see she was mortified. As she began to dig her nails into the flesh of her hand, he decided to intervene and stood up as well.
"Let's get that cowardly painter back," he whispered, gently taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "I promise to look like the proud and authoritative Fire Lord you want me to be."
Azula smiled shyly at him and let herself be drawn into another hug that Zuko tried to make as brotherly as possible. Finally, she slipped out of his arms and headed for the front door.
She turned around one last time before disappearing. The smile that lit up her beautiful face filled Zuko with a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. He felt that he had just crossed a new barrier. The moment was approaching when it would no longer be possible to turn back.
And again, he considered how exhilarating it was to let Azula take him by the hand and lead him down this dizzying slope.
Azula didn't immediately realize that something was going on. She awoke slowly, her heart pounding in her throat, with this strange feeling of having been tearing from sleep by an outside intervention, but without being able to remember it.
It took her even longer to figure out who were the owners of the voices whispering behind the closed curtains. She didn't remember drawing them before going to bed with Zuko. It must have been him talking to someone on the other side. Her heart twitched and she suddenly felt much more awake. Theymust not see them! Although nothing carnal was happening between them, Azula supposed that people wouldn't really be willing to believe them. Better to avoid spreading the fact that the Fire Lord and the ex-princess spent half their nights together.
It must have been Zuko who had hastily closed the curtains of his bed to hide Azula from the sight of his unexpected visitor. How could she not have heard? She internally cursed Taïma and her medications, which plunged her into terrible states of torpor in the hours following their intake. Sometimes, as a joke, she would tell Ty Lee that she could have slept on if the giant drill they had used to break down the impenetrable ramparts of Ba Sing Se had suddenly pierced through her bedroom wall.
She was a little more awake now and she recognized Zuko's canopy curtains. She remembered sneaking into his room at night. With a sigh as the only form of protest, Zuko had opened his bed to her and they had fallen asleep, huddled together, in silence, Zuko's arm slung over her waist.
Making sure to make as little noise as possible, Azula managed to extricate herself from her sheets and crawled towards the foot of the bed to hear better.
"...it's awful, Sire. There was blood everywhere..."
A lump formed in Azula's throat. Something very bad had happened. It was Master Shyu's voice. What if something bad happened to Ty Lee, or Taïma? Unless… No? Not that fast! It couldn't be.
Zuko's horrified voice rose, barely louder than a whisper:
"Have you informed the other Sages of this?"
So that was it! Buntaro had acted! What efficiency! Azula felt a mixture of excitement and terror grip her heart. And also something that might be an ounce of guilt. But she could not bother with scruples. The end justifies the means, she reasoned herself. But there was one problem: how was Zuko going to react?
"They are the ones who alerted me, Sire. I told them to take shelter in the Temple and placed them under good escort. I sent four maids to clean up the carnage."
"And what have you done with the corpse?" Zuko whispered.
"We've placed it in the crypt awaiting for your orders."
"Good. Let's leave it there for the night. I'll come find you at dawn to tell you what to do. Double the number of men to patrol around the Temple and the palace. And have all the exits watched. I want a guard posted in every hallway, in front of every door, every window."
Unexpectedly, Zuzu seemed to keep his calm. Azula smiled and her heart swelled with pride.
"Very well, my Lord. Do you want me to look for your sister to get her to safety? If the perpetrators are who we believe, she's probably in danger."
"No need, Shin, I'll take care of it myself. Go wake up your men!"
Azula lifted a small section of the curtain and risked a glance. Zuko had his back to her and she could see Shin, pale as death despite the flaming torches casting shadows on his worry-scarred face. It looked like the visage of a macchabe. Buntaro must have done a good job.
Finally Shin turned around and Azula quickly slipped into her sheets before Zuko pulled back the curtains of his canopy to join her. She lay down on her side and pretended to be asleep. Zuko gently put a hand on her shoulder to wake her up, she took a sleepy voice to answer him:
"Zuko? What's going on? What time is it?"
"It's very late, or very early, I don't know," he said. "Something happened."
"What? Speak to me! You're scaring me! You're paler than a sheet, it looks like you've seen a ghost! Are you sick?"
"No, I'm perfectly fine. This is Master Shyu, the Great Sage. They found him murdered in his bathtub."
Azula sat up and opened her eyes wide, dropping her jaw slightly in dismay.
"What? What do you mean, murdered? Who did this?"
"The Sons of Agni for sure. It looks like their modus operandi. Shin says their symbol was branded on his forehead. And he had... he had..."
"What? Talk to me, Zuko", she snapped, taking his arm and digging her sharp fingernails into it.
"It's horrible. You don't need to know the details."
"I grew up with Father, Zuko. I have been on battlefields. I saw him torture men with my own eyes. I don't need you to spare my feelings."
Zuko refused to look her in the eye. Azula could see he was on the verge of tears and she could almost make out the lump forming in his throat when he spoke:
"His chest was open," he said reluctantly. "Someone took his heart. What kind of monster would do that? Who could have such ideas?"
Azula flinched upon hearing the cursed word and for a few moments, her head spun a little, her certainties melted on her and she felt very vulnerable.
Zuko slumped against the headboard, clutching his face in his hands, digging his fingers into his sockets and rubbing his temples with his thumbs, as if dispelling a searing headache.
"It's our fault!" he moaned. "We stirred up anger against the Fire Sages and now, here are the consequences! It shouldn't have gone that far! It's not what we planned!"
"Oh, Agni!" Azula exclaimed, feigning the same affliction. "Zuzu, I'm sorry. I didn't think that... It's horrible!"
Zuko suddenly removed his hands from his face and looked into her amber eyes. Azula held her breath for a few seconds as he probed her gaze. The moment was decisive. If she didn't convince him now that she had nothing to do with the attack, he would suspect her and he wouldn't want her anymore.
Monster…
She had to do better.
"On the other hand," she began slowly, moving closer to her brother, making sure her chest brushed his arm. "Maybe it's a chance for us. This incident is unfortunate but it could solve our problems faster than we thought."
Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it, eyes widening in amazement.
"How can you say that? An innocent man just died! Shyu was our best support among the Sages. He's the one who convinced the others to drop the charges against you. Without him you would be in jail right now. Or worse!"
Azula was relieved to see that despite his indignation, Zuko's voice and eyes were devoid of the suspicion she had seen there just before. She wouldn't convince him by playing the frightened little princess. He would be more inclined to believe her if she remained the monster of cynicism and pragmatism that he knew.
Monster…
What's wrong with that child?
"I know, Zuzu, and I wish it was someone else. Like that idiot who made those filthy allusions during my audience. But now that the Sages know that the Sons of Agni have targeted them, they will beg you to take back the power you gave them!"
"I really don't want to think about it now!" he cried.
But Azula could see by the way he was breathing that this argument had calmed him down a bit. She decided she could try an approach and she wrapped her hand around his neck to pull him closer to her.
"Come on, my Love," she whispered, pulling him to her chest. "Let Shin handle the situation. He has it well in hand. We'll worry about that tomorrow. You have to sleep."
She felt Zuko relax against her. She began to stroke his hair and smiled when his muffled voice muttered:
"Stop calling me that."
"Why? I love you! There's nothing wrong with loving my big brother, right?"
Zuko didn't answer but he stirred to extricate himself from her embrace.
"Where are you going? Why don't you stay?" she protested.
"I told Shin I was going to take care of you. If the Sons of Agni start attacking us, better not spread the word that you spend the night in my bed, right?"
"Oh Zuko. We didn't do anything wrong", she teased.
But now was not the time to play with his nerves and she thought it wiser to spare him her jokes. She sighed.
"You are right of course. I'll take the secret passage back to my rooms."
"It's not safe. I'll come with you and I'll come back through the normal door later."
A little exasperated by these unnecessary precautions, but remembering that Zuko had no idea of the truth, she agreed.
They got up and took the secret passage together, hand in hand. On the dark path back to her room, lit by the flickering flame that Zuko had ignited in his other hand, Azula who walked behind her brother finally allowed herself a real smile.
Everything was going as she planned.