A/N: Back! Whew, been awhile since the last update, I wanted to get a little bit ahead on editing, and mid-August was promising to be a bit crazy for me so I wanted to wait until that died down. But, the plan is to be back on a somewhat regular schedule now, a chapter a week, possibly two chapters this week, we'll see how it goes.
Be ready, tough chapters ahead—rating on this story still stands.
Chapter 16: Peace
"It all ends right now."
Ursa made her way quickly over the stoney ground, pushing back thin sickly brambles and stepping over cracked stone. Periodically she shivered in the chill night air, holding the torch close, before she raised it again, searching every low mound for hidden caverns that might lead to the tunnel systems below.
For the waterbenders to have been able to attack at a moment's notice, and to have been with Azula up to the last minute, yet also easily rendezvous after the fight—there had to be an accessible entrance somewhere. It wouldn't be close, but close enough. Ursa had been working her way in a grid pattern around the far south of the lake. Of course the entrance could just as easily be to the east or the north, but those would be too far for her to get to on foot in a single night. She just had to try, and hope.
A distant sound reached her ears—like driving, pounding water. Ursa followed it, until she came to the side of a craggy stone face, jutting up to the dark sky. From part way up the mountain face, a waterfall fell, tumbling down to the river below, which cut through the canyons.
A waterfall—the perfect sort of cover, now that she considered it. It was hardly easily accessible, and few would initially think of an entrance to underground tunnels coming from so far above ground level. The abundance of water would also make it easy for the waterbenders to navigate, as well as provide a ready weapon. As for Azula herself, she would have no trouble getting out if she had to, her firebending would no doubt allow her to get down without a problem.
The firebending was one of the things that had been most consistent in the stories about Azula. As a child, she had been highly gifted in firebending for her age, and now she was regarded as one of the most skilled firebenders alive, better than Zuko, so Zuko had admitted. A rare blue fire was her signature, an unheard of skill except perhaps among sages and other spiritual advisors, who specialized in studying firebending as an artform. And she was able to use it flawlessly even in the midst of combat.
Ursa stared up at the mouth of the waterfall, which fell from a jagged hole in the side of the cliff, then at the craggy rock face beside it. The mouth of the waterfall was not high, and fortunately the rock leading up to it appeared cracked and uneven enough to provide handholds. But she did not know if this was the place, and it would be dangerous, each stone slippery and liable to crumble under her weight. And it would take time, and even more time to explore the tunnels, plus come back through the tunnels if her search proved fruitless. It would mean she likely would not have time to search anywhere else.
And yet—she had a feeling.
Ursa approached, coming to stand just before the rock. She placed a hand on the stone, standing in its shadow where it blocked out the moon. Then, closing her eyes and adjusting the light satchel at her back, she took a deep breath. Placing the torch carefully between her teeth, she began to climb.
Suki was on high alert.
Iroh, currently acting as interim Fire Lord again, had authorized her to double the guard for the night, and now she strode the corridors, searching the shadows for anything suspicious. Every creak of the floor or crackle of torch flames sent her hands diving for her fans.
Suki wasn't actually sure what they would do if they were attacked. They had taken every precaution she could think of—the guards were made to relinquish their deadly weapons, replacing them instead with truncheons or spears with the pointed ends removed, and she had ordered everyone to patrol in groups of five or more. General Mak and Mai had both agreed that numbers were probably their best hope of defense.
But without real weapons, the strength of the average soldier was compromised. Considering firebending was one thing the bloodbenders wouldn't be able to make use of, firebenders were included in as many patrols as possible, but there were not enough to go around, and the need to maintain larger groups also naturally limited how many of the places that needed guarding could be kept under watch at once. Ty Lee and Min, along with the soldiers with them, were patrolling near the palace entrances, while Mai was off lurking somewhere no one knew.
Liu and Hina followed closely at Suki's back, also keeping their hands on their fans at their belts. Even though they had all left their swords back in their rooms, it had been decided the fans were difficult enough to use without training that they should be safe enough to keep, along with the expandable shields on their arms. Suki wished she could be everywhere at once, but she had decided to focus on the room in which Ikem and Kiyi stayed—Zuko would want them kept safe, and as Azula had targeted Kiyi once, she could do it again. They, along with the soldiers with them, had done the rounds along the long passage and those adjacent a half dozen times that night at least, and Suki had checked in with the collection of guards stationed just outside the room every quarter hour.
"Maybe we should check the balcony," Hina suggested in a low voice. "Isn't that where the Kemurikage struck last time?"
Suki gave a quick nod in reply, turning and heading in that direction. As they reached the narrow doorway, she peered out into the night darkness, lit silver by the full moon. Ignoring the shiver down her spine at the sight of it, she scanned the area carefully, focusing on the deepest shadows. Anywhere an enemy might think to hide—
A flash of movement in the corner of her eye. Suki spun, instantly drawing both fans, ready to strike.
The figure flinched, startled, and Suki's gaze dropped to find a pair of wide brown eyes staring up at her.
"Kiyi!" Suki gasped. Her eyes shot about. "What are you doing out here? Where are your guards?"
Kiyi shrank back slightly from Suki's tone, then stood up straight. "I'm waiting for those ladies to come back. I'm not scared of 'em. There were a bunch of guards outside, but they aren't very smart—"
Suki had dropped to her knees, and before she knew quite what she was doing she had stowed her fans, grabbing Kiyi by her small shoulders.
"Kiyi, you can't be out here," she whispered in a rush. "It's very dangerous. You need to go back to your room right now."
Kiyi stared back at Suki, cheeks puffed out in a hurt, angry pout.
Suki forced herself to take it down a few notches, drawing a silent, steadying breath. "Kiyi," she said, as gently as she could. "I'm going to take you back to your room, and you need to stay there with your daddy, and with your guards. It's very important. Can you do that for me?"
Kiyi looked defiant for a second. Then she slumped. "...Okay."
Suki relaxed slightly. She took Kiyi by the hand, leading her back inside. Suki couldn't entirely blame her—maybe Kiyi couldn't sleep again, or even had a nightmare, and Suki could definitely relate to wanting to get out and do something about it, rather than just huddling in bed. And not to mention that, when it came to staying where it was safe when ordered to, Kiyi had a brother who hadn't set much of an example.
Suki raised her eyes to the corridor ahead, where Ursa and Ikem's room lay—and froze.
The guards were all congested around the door, as they should be, only instead of facing outward, they faced in—fists raised.
Suki hurried forward, Kiyi keeping on her heels, along with Liu, Hina, and the other guards trailing behind.
"Guard," Suki said to the nearest one. "What—"
The guard turned, face white, quickly putting a hand to his mouth to silence her. He pointed back into the open door of the room.
Several of the guards noticed her and shuffled sideways, though slowly, carefully, enough for her to see inside.
Two figures stood in the shadowy darkness near the closest bed posts, the room lit only by a ball of white-red flame. One was the familiar form of Ikem, dressed in his usual preferred simple tunic—he, like most of them, had opted not to dress for bed this night. His hands were pinned behind him by the second figure, dressed in the gold and crimson of a palace guard uniform.
The ball of flame shivered in the air, just above a raised palm—inches from the back of his head.
Ursa shivered in the cold.
The spray from the waterfall had left one side of her clothing damp and heavier than usual, and now her shoes squelched against the rocky ground as she continued down the long, dark passage. It was a miracle the torch flame had survived the climb—had it gotten damp, she wasn't sure she would have been able to relight it, and she doubted she could have proceeded very far without the light.
The cave mouth had initially split into two tunnels, one that was the source of the waterfall leading up, and another that descended down, toward the underground. Even if the higher one wasn't flooded with water with no place to walk, likely it would eventually lead back to the surface, where it would be fed by water of the rains and melting snow, and Ursa doubted Azula would choose to hide there. And so she had descended.
Ursa was now deep in the long tunnel, and the ground had finally leveled off. The water here was not so much a river or stream as simply long standing pools. While she was mostly able to keep to the dry edge along the side, in some places there was no solid ground, and she was forced to wade through the shallow water, all the while praying that her foot didn't hit a sinkhole. She occasionally placed a hand on the cave wall for support, but it was often covered in patches of dark moss, which gave way easily under her grip.
She carefully wove her way among jutting stalagmites and low-hanging stalactites, as though avoiding the teeth of a predator. Once something with flapping wings tore past her head in a gust, startling her and nearly making her drop the torch in the water. However, otherwise all was silent.
Perhaps it was the eerie darkness and quiet of the cave, but the memories that so often played in her thoughts seemed to come to life all the more here, voices that echoed in the unseeable abyss.
"It deserved it. It wasn't as pretty as the others."
"If Uncle doesn't make it back from war, then Dad will be next in line for Fire Lord, wouldn't he?"
"Grandfather wants him to feel the pain of losing his firstborn."
"Did you have to have a new daughter because…"
Ursa slowed to a stop. Her eyes slid closed.
Her past in the palace was full of pain and fear—yet those days had been precious in their own way, too. Zuko and Azula as children, childhoods of which she had only been allowed to see a small portion.
Of course, Ursa understood things now she had not understood then. That she had hurt Azula in some way. That Azula had somehow felt her reprimands as a judgment against her, fear, perhaps even hate. Ursa had similarly scolded Zuko at times—but his outward hurt and confusion meant there was always a chance to talk later, to help him understand. Azula, by contrast, only got angry when she got in trouble, and otherwise seemed so unperturbed by everything. There had never seemed a time for talking, at least when Azula would have any interest in listening. Yet for a child as clever as Azula, she must have read in that some unconscious message.
Ursa should have known—she should have understood.
Torch raised high, she stared down the dark, empty tunnel, stretching out before her. And she realized—she wasn't going to find Azula here. She wasn't going to be able to say all the things she so desperately wanted to say, or hear Azula's voice, hear it finally in a way she had never truly heard it before. She had failed.
A tear coursed down her face, blurring her vision. She lowered the torch, and turned away. But then, as she glanced back one last time over her shoulder, she stopped.
With her shadow blocking the light of the torch, she thought she saw something flickering in the far distance. A spot of orange, like another torch or perhaps a campfire.
Barely allowing herself to hope, holding the torch behind her, Ursa carefully proceeded forward, step by step. The orange spot, rather than disappear as a trick of the light, grew larger, and as she squinted, she suddenly realized she could make out a dark shape in front of it.
Ursa placed a hand on a nearby stalagmite, leaning against it, but as she started to take another step forward, a splash beneath her foot made her stop. She looked down for the first time to see the ground had ended, another portion of tunnel completely blocked off by water. But she was close enough now, no more than several Appa-lengths away, that she could make out the shape clearly. A figure sat on what appeared to be a discarded Water Tribe Parka beside the fire, on a free-floating slab of ice. The logs of the fire were elevated on what might have been a piece of stone, perhaps to prevent the ice from melting, and the figure sat facing it, back to Ursa. They wore the blues and whites of the Water Tribe, and from a beaded bun trailed a long black braid.
Ursa's breath caught in her throat.
The figure must have heard the sound of Ursa's footstep in the water, because she rose to her feet, slowly turning. Though the campfire cast her face in shadow, Ursa still saw the familiar features. A face with planes sharp as flint, yet beautiful as the rising sun, eyes a burning amber-gold.
"Azula," Ursa breathed.
Suki stood frozen, staring.
The guard was a girl, not much older than Suki herself, with a smattering of distinctive freckles drawing a line across the bridge of her nose. A guard helmet lay on the floor by the nearest bedpost, where she had clearly discarded it, leaving a pair of long brown braids to swing freely down her back. Her eyes were a dark brown-black, not Water Tribe blue, and though it should have already been obvious from the firebending, it took Suki a moment to register—that she wasn't one of the bloodbenders.
At last Suki took a slow, silent breath, then stepped forward, in front of the crowd. "Who… are you?" she said in a measured voice, empty hands raised. "What do you want?"
"Where is she?" the girl hissed. "I know she's here—you tell me where, or he gets it!" The flames behind Ikem's head burned, rising an inch higher in the air.
Before Suki could decide how to answer, a high voice cut above the soldiers' heads.
"Scary lady! You leave daddy alone!"
Suki's eyes shot down to see a blur at her feet, and before she could react, Kiyi was hurling herself across the bedroom, straight at the girl, little fists coming forward in a blast of flames.
"Kiyi—" gasped Ikem. "No—"
The assailant's eyes widened briefly, before she snuffed out her own ball of flame and batted a hand sideways, dispersing Kiyi's firebending almost contemptuously.
"Fine," she spat, and in an instant she had let go of Ikem, kicking him hard in the back and sending him sprawling to the floor. He caught himself, and tried to spin around, but he was too late—the girl had seized Kiyi by one small arm, wrenching her back and twisting her around. The girl retreated back another step into the room, and though Kiyi squirmed and fought, suddenly a fire dagger hovered before her face. "You're a better hostage anyway, you annoying brat."
The girl turned her furious gaze back to the rest of them. Ikem was frozen in a crouch, eyes wide with horror.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Suki couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She stood at the front of the crowd of guards, nothing she could do. Nothing that wouldn't get Zuko's younger sister killed.
For some reason, in this direst of moments, it was Sokka's voice who came to her mind—logical, though not particularly helpful. We have Katara. She can play their game…
It struck Suki then, full force, that if Katara were here, she could stop this from happening. She could simply reach out, and make the girl stop.
However, there was no time to unwind all the feelings coursing through her at this thought, the logic that had always been there but she hadn't been able to quite grab a hold of. Katara wasn't here, and those who were had to figure out what to do.
"What do you want?" Suki asked again. She slowly raised a hand, signaling for the guards to step back. She turned her palms up in what she hoped would be a unthreatening, placating gesture.
The girl's eyes were wide and wild, her twitching lips curled back from her teeth. For a moment Suki found herself thinking of a racoon-dog back on Kyoshi Island, which had once broken into their stores at night, tearing the place apart. When they'd finally cornered the beast early that morning, they had found it foaming at the mouth, eyes bloodshot and obviously rabid. There was something about the girl that reminded her of the poor creature—something erratic, unpredictable, not quite right.
The girl drew the fire knife in closer. The barest twitch of a hand, and Kiyi would lose an eye. "You tell me where she is," she hissed again.
Suki stood very still, afraid to even breathe, lest it set the girl off like an explosion.
"Who?" Suki asked carefully.
The girl's eyes burned, then blazed. "Who else? The Fire Lord's mother!"
Azula stared back across the water for a long moment, at the place where Ursa stood. Her expression calm, almost tranquil. Then her eyes bulged, her lips drawing back from her teeth until she looked almost demented.
"You!" she snarled, jabbing an accusing finger in Ursa's direction. "How dare you come here—haven't I kept up my end of our pact? Begone!"
Ursa took an automatic step back, her heart pounding. She had imagined how this meeting might go so many times. The last time she had seen Azula at the cottage, she had been almost completely out of her mind, yet Zuko had said she'd seemed back to normal the last time he had seen her. However, as Ursa stared at Azula's wild eyes, she looked little different than she had then. Perhaps even worse.
"Azula—" she began.
"No," Azula spat. "I won't listen to you. My plan is going perfectly—don't interfere!"
Ursa gripped the torch. She lowered it, though her eyes didn't leave Azula's face. "Plan?" she repeated.
"Yes," snapped Azula. "Wasn't it you that told me the throne was not my destiny? That my destiny was to help Zuko become the Fire Lord he was meant to be? I have done as you said—Zuko will be strong, strong as he always had the potential to become. And you, in exchange, were supposed to banish yourself from my mind forever."
Ursa blinked, and suddenly she understood. "Azula—I am not a vision. I am really here. I have come to speak with you."
"Ha!" The laugh came out sudden and harsh. Azula gestured with wild hands in irritation. "Your tricks have gotten cleverer, I'll admit, but they won't work on me, Mother."
"Please, Azula," Ursa said, bowing her head slightly. "I must—I need to speak with you. I have come all this way, because there is so much unsaid between us. I must say it. Please."
"I don't have to listen to you," sneered Azula, half turning away. But for a moment her eyes slid back to Ursa's, and there was a hint of curiosity she couldn't seem to quite curb.
Afraid that if she let the moment pass that Azula would never allow her to speak again, the words she had so often played out in her mind seemed to rush from Ursa's mouth in a torrent.
"I never thought you were a monster, Azula. Never. If I seemed distant—it was because I thought your father—I didn't think you needed me as much as Zuko did. But I never loved him more than you. I betrayed the Fire Nation to save Zuko's life, but if it had been your life Azulon had demanded, I would have done the same for you."
"Oh?" said Azula, again the corner of her mouth curled with disdain. And yet, she still watched Ursa closely out of the corner of her eye.
"Yes," Ursa raced on. "I thought Ozai—but I was wrong. You did need me, Azula. Because your father—he was never capable of love. He never—"
"Of course he loved me!"
Azula had spun back to face her, her fists clenched at her sides, eyes wide with fury. But then her expression settled, and her gaze drifted away. "He loved me… before. Before the comet came. After…" She turned narrowed eyes on Ursa, and they blazed again, cold with fury. "Well, he thought there was something wrong with me. He thought I was going to fail—but he was wrong. I was as strong as ever…"
Her eyes burned. "You," she hissed. "It was you who made me fail. It was your fault. You turned them all against me—you made me weak."
Ursa stared back, her heart pounding—trying to unwind all the wild words, trying to find the sense in them, what her daughter needed from her most, right at this moment.
"Azula," she whispered. "Azula, I came here because I needed you to know. I want you to know that I lo—"
"No!" Azula turned wild eyes on her, drowning out the words. "No, no more lies."
"Azula—"
Azula closed her eyes then, taking a deep breath through her nose. Her tone was different, almost detached as she continued, "It hardly matters now. Father is a weakling, brought low by the Avatar—he's of no consequence. His love is meaningless now. And I have never needed you, either. I can see clearly—I only need myself. I have only ever needed myself. And I will fulfill my destiny by making Zuko into a great Fire Lord… the Fire Lord I would have been…"
Azula's eyes opened, and she turned back to look at Ursa again. Her face was cold, devoid of emotion. "Begone, Mother," she said again, this time languidly waving a hand, as though to ward off a troublesome gnat. "There is nothing you can say that will give you any power over me."
Ursa gazed across the water at her daughter, so close, and yet so very far. Ursa had finally found her—she could not leave now. Not until she got through, at least a little.
"Didn't you hear me?" Azula said in a low, dangerous voice. "I said, begone!" And with a harsh sweep of her hand, she sent a wave of flame blazing in Ursa's direction.
Ursa gasped, flinching back on instinct, though the flame dissipated before it reached her, leaving steam hissing on the surface of the water.
Azula blinked, frowning, focusing on Ursa again in a hint of uncertainty.
"I won't go, Azula," Ursa said calmly. "Not until you accept it."
"Accept what?" Azula muttered, almost petulantly, and for a moment she seemed once again the little girl Ursa had known, quick to use honeyed words to get what she wanted, storming off in a huff when she didn't get her way.
Ursa's heart ached with such pain it nearly brought her to her knees. "That I am really here, Azula. That I am not a vision, that I've come for you."
This time, Azula didn't scoff. She stared across the water at Ursa, and confusion rippled across her features. With a sudden sharp flick of her hand, she sent another wave of blue flames bursting across the water, this one strong enough to reach her, only just.
This time, Ursa did not flinch back. She let the torch fall to the cave floor, where it extinguished against the wet ground with a hiss, and with her hand, she stretched out toward the flame, where it licked her exposed wrist. She gasped, drawing it back. She stared down at the reddened, welted flesh, as the pain burned—yet she didn't mind, as hope flared anew. That Azula would finally see, understand. Ursa raised her eyes.
Azula was fully facing her now. She stood frozen, her eyes wide, mouth open. She stared at Ursa's wrist—the burn. Surely no vision could be harmed, as Azula had no doubt tested repeatedly.
"You…" she said slowly. "You… are really here."
"Yes," Ursa said softly. "I am, Azula."
"You… are not…"
"No," Ursa whispered. "I'm not a vision, Azula. I am here. For you."
Azula placed a hand to her head, fingers pressing to her temples until the skin shone white. She turned her back on Ursa, staring down the far side of the cave. "You… are here," she said again, as the fact seemed to solidify itself in her mind. "You're here." She turned back around. "Why are you here?"
"I told you," Ursa said, and she realized she felt strangely calm, as strong and certain as she had ever felt. "I came for you, Azula. The last time I saw you, I didn't know who you were, and you were in so much pain… I had to see you. I had to try to help you."
Azula was watching Ursa now. Her face had changed—the flickers of deranged madness had gone. Now her expression was smooth as a mountain lake.
"I don't need help," she said evenly. "It is I who is helping Zuko. Become a great Fire Lord."
Ursa shook her head. "Azula—this isn't your destiny. I don't know what your visions told you, I don't know what your destiny is, or what will finally let you find happiness. But I came here to tell you that, whatever you might think, you are not your father. You don't have to follow his path, or a path he taught you to follow. There are other ways to live, better ways—"
Azula had turned her back to her again, facing the opposite side of the tunnel. "Of course I'm not Father," she said, almost lightly. "Ozai failed. I don't fail—I'm better than he is. Stronger."
Ursa opened her mouth to say more. But Azula had suddenly turned back, her arms folded behind her, shoulders rigid and formal, like a general at a war meeting about to debrief their soldiers.
"Do you know what my plan is for Zuko, Mother? My plan that will make him strong—that will rid him of all that is holding him back?"
Ursa hesitated.
Azula waved a careless hand. "These games with the bloodbenders—it's all just a distraction, really. If all goes well, it will push him into a corner, and perhaps he'll learn he has to be a bit ruthless sometimes if he is to survive. But it's hardly my finishing move."
Hands still behind her back, she began to pace. "I left behind a girl—one of my little Kemurikage. This very night, she is set to infiltrate the palace. Oh, I could have told her any old night before now, one when the palace wouldn't likely be so heavily guarded—but sometimes more guards just means it's easier to blend in, and more importantly, Zirin has always seemed to work best under pressure. The tougher the challenge, the more she hates to lose."
She still spoke calmly, yet excitement seemed to build with every word. "Zuzu has always had a temper. And so what he needs to free himself of his silly notions of right and wrong—is hate. A rage he can't contain. A rage that will burn away his useless honor, and make him strong at last…"
Azula stopped and turned. She stared directly at Ursa, with eyes cold as Ozai's had ever been. "Can you guess my plan, Mother?"
Something was ringing in Ursa's ears—it felt distant, far away. A small, childlike voice, annoyed, but somehow eager, too. Will you brush my hair for me, mommy?
"You," Azula said softly. "You hold him back. You make him weak. Yet you, all along, have been the key to unlocking his strength."
Ursa opened her mouth to speak—but somehow, the words wouldn't come.
"Poor Zirin," Azula said, with a chilling smile. "She'll be so disappointed. But the truth is, I never expected her to actually succeed—truly good help is so hard to come by, and lately I've had to take what I can get. But now, here you are… delivering yourself right into my hands. Now I can make sure it's done properly. And Zuko will burn with the wrath of a true Fire Lord…"
Azula slowly raised her hand, drawing it through the air. Electricity began to gather at the tips of her fingers, sparking and twisting like a hungry animal, casting Azula's features into sharp relief.
"There, you see, Mother," she murmured. "If it is true, that all that time you never thought of me as a monster—" Her eyes burned. She whispered, barely a breath in the cold cavern air, "Well, it looks like you were wrong, weren't you?"
The light of the crackling lightning was bright in the darkness, casting long shadows along the icy floor. Ursa had done a terrible thing to Zuko and Kiyi, she knew, and Ikem too. She didn't know if they would ever understand, if they could ever forgive her. But in this moment, gazing on the face of her most tormented of children, as the lightning played about her harsh features, Ursa did not regret.
"Find peace, my daughter," Ursa murmured.
She closed her eyes.