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Chapter 21: Lies

Zuko strode through the corridors of the palace, the dirty scroll clenched in his fist. A fire blazed in the tightness of his chest—warming the cold that had taken root there, yet also threatening to consume him from the inside out.

Katara kept close behind him. She said nothing, only followed, and he wondered if she felt the same hope for him that he felt now, or if she worried he was setting himself up for disappointment. Probably some of both.

Zuko arrived at the familiar dead-end passage, with the heavy metal door. Two guards stood posted outside.

"Fire Lord," said one, bowing his head quickly, startled at Zuko's intense expression.

"I need to see my sister." He didn't raise his voice, even as the fire inside him blazed, his Fire Lord's composure only barely keeping him in check.

"Of course, my lord," said the guard. "Would you like me to summon one of the chi-blockers, or—?"

But Zuko was already pushing past him, and the guard fumbled, quickly opening the reinforced lock on the door. Zuko strode inside, Katara right behind him. A female guard stood inside next to the door, and Zuko dismissed her with a single sharp gesture. Katara closed the door behind them, while Zuko proceeded, coming to stand at the center of the floor.

Azula was, at her own request, sitting in front of the window again, facing out toward the edge of the caldera. Her usual straitjacket bound her from neck to legs, arms belted in place to prevent her from bending.

Zuko breathed, clenching the scroll in his fist. "You lied to me."

Azula didn't even bother to turn her head. "Oh, Zuzu," she sighed. "You've come to see me again. What an honor. I do wish you had let me know ahead of time, so I could have asked for my nice straitjacket."

The corners of Zuko's mouth tightened. "Turn her around," he commanded.

Normally Katara probably wouldn't have taken orders from Zuko, especially given in such a tone, but these were hardly normal circumstances. Katara went to the back of Azula's wheelchair and, undoing the wheel locks, rotated Azula around to face him.

Zuko stared down at his sister. He wasn't sure if he was actually angry—his chest was alive, burning with hope. However, he felt like he should be, and so he fixed her with his fiercest scowl.

"You lied to me," he said again.

Azula rolled her eyes. "Of course I did, Zuzu. But if you want to have a conversation about it, you're going to need to narrow it down."

Zuko approached. He opened the scroll, then wordlessly held it out.

Azula's eyes slid lazily toward him. She scanned the document complacently—before her face froze.

"Well?" he said, voice low and hard.

"She's alive," Azula breathed. Her face did something strange—a range of emotions flashed there he didn't recognize. Before her face settled back into a sardonic smile.

"I should have known," she said, lip curling. "That the girl wouldn't have the gumption. She might have been the hardest-boiled of the lot, but I had a feeling if any of them were faced with—certain deeds—they'd all turn soft."

Zuko eyed her. And though he hadn't felt truly angry before, it was beginning to creep up on him now. "You said you'd killed her."

"And I was going to," Azula answered. "Before that girl who got away from you showed up and got in my way. She saw the lightning, and got a tad upset."

A cold chill ran over his arms, as it occurred to him that he could have executed Azula, then realized later she hadn't actually done it. He wound back through everything, trying to understand. "But that message. And the doll—"

"Yes," drawled Azula. "The message. She'd written one for you of course, trying to claim to be me so you'd think I'd done it. But, you can imagine, a girl who's mostly lived like a snow-rat on the streets—it wasn't that convincing. That's why I got rid of that one and wrote you another. The doll with the knife was her idea, a nice touch I'll admit—I just added my own flare to make it feel more authentic."

Zuko stared at her. "Why?" he whispered. "Why would you do that? I… almost… could have…"

Azula sighed dramatically. "Zuzu, the entire point of the whole exercise was for you to realize the error of your weakness, and learn to take decisive action. Whether I killed her or not hardly mattered, so long as you thought I did. That way, you would know it was entirely your own fault." She paused, her mouth twisting with distaste. "Of course, you learned absolutely nothing regardless."

Zuko studied her for a long moment. The hope was burning bright in his chest—but now it was quickly becoming tempered with reality. Even if Mother was still alive, getting her back was far from a guarantee. There had been a postscript at the bottom of the message—Come alone. Or she dies. The rest of the team couldn't be close enough to be of much help, at least while the girl still had Mother. He saw only two options—the first would be wrong, even if he could have borne going through with it. The second, from the looks of things, impossible.

Azula was eying him, and for the first time her placid expression tightened, eyes narrowing. Almost as though she were reading his mind, she said coldly, "I think you know what you have to do, Zuzu. The only logical option. You've already failed to protect your own mother once. You hardly deserve a second chance, but now that you have one, I do hope even you won't be fool enough to throw it away."

Some of the simmering anger in his chest that had receded rose again. And he heard himself demand, "Do you really want to die that much, Azula? Every time I see you, that's all you seem to want. You know what will happen if I just hand you over—is living that horrible?"

Azula gave an irritable twitch, before she relaxed, eyes sliding away. "Oh, don't get the wrong idea, Zuzu. Death or life—I hardly fear either. I'm simply advising you, as I have all along."

She tilted her head back, and when her eyes returned to his face, she seemed, in spite of where she sat, to be gazing down at him, as though from the Fire Lord's dais, eyes cold. "My death was to be my victory. But seeing as how you have ruined that—at least I can use it to make you guilty and miserable the rest of your sad, short reign. And if you don't feel guilty—well, then you'll have learned something, and I'll have still won."

She added, a curl to her lip, "The only thing I see that is not in my interest is, as perhaps you hope, for me to come up with a little plan for you, that lets everyone come out alive and well, and will let you feel so proud of yourself. For being good and honorable and everything else fools cling to because they lack the strength to do otherwise."

Zuko gripped his own wrist, until his fingers turned white and numb. That was the only thing he could think of to save Mother without doing as the note demanded—Azula's cooperation. But from the looks of things he had a better chance of convincing Mai to take up aura reading. He tried to think. How to reason with Azula.

He said at last, "Even if I—gave her exactly what she asked for, she could doublecross me. Wouldn't it be smarter to—figure out a way to—get what I want, without having to give up anything in return?"

Azula gazed back, face unreadable. Before she smiled, patronizing. "Of course, Zuzu. Not a bad thought. However, I spent months with the girl, and while I would say she is certainly volatile, I found her unfortunately mostly honest in her way. I doubt she would have any problem handing Mother over without a fuss as long as she gets what she wants, but she has a temper—try to outwit her, betray her, she will strike back mercy. You might want to tread carefully."

Zuko hesitated. Trying to think of something else to say, another argument.

Katara was watching him, and after a moment, she came out from behind the wheelchair. With a glance over her shoulder at Azula, she took him by the arm, and carefully led him a few paces away, out of earshot.

"It's okay," she said in a low voice, hand still on his arm. "Go get Aang and Sokka, and we can all figure out what we can do. Sokka might have an idea."

Zuko took a slow, steadying breath. He started to nod, then paused. "What about you?"

Katara hesitated. "I just want a minute to talk to her."

Zuko eyed her uncertainly. He still hadn't forgotten his first private conversation with Katara after he first joined the team. Katara was one of the kindest people he knew—except when it came to potential enemies who were a danger to everyone she cared about.

"Okay," he said slowly. "But—I'm not sure—I mean—"

She gripped his arm. "Please, Zuko. Just for a minute." Her eyes burned with some emotion he couldn't quite read.

Zuko met her eyes for a moment more, before he at last nodded reluctantly once. He still wasn't sure, but Katara looked calm, and he trusted her judgment. "I won't be gone long." He turned toward the door, and said in a louder voice, "I'll be back, Azula."

"Take your time, big brother," Azula called after him sweetly. She added with biting sarcasm, "I'm not going anywhere."

Still clutching the scroll, his heart beating in his throat with hope and dread, he pushed his way out of the room, ready to seize this second chance with all he was worth.

Katara faced the door where Zuko had left, the sound of the heavy metal grinding back into place still echoing in her ears, before all was once again silent.

At last, she turned.

Azula was watching her, with a kind of knowing smile. "Ah," she sighed in satisfaction. "And here's where the threats start. Well, let's have them. I don't have all day."

Katara frowned, and wondered if Azula could somehow know about Zuko's first day as a part of Team Avatar. She hoped not, but then, Azula seemed to know about a lot of things she shouldn't.

Katara took a step forward. "I'm not going to threaten you, Azula."

"Oh?" Azula tilted her head. "Because if they came from you, peasant, I might almost believe them. Unlike softhearted Zuzu, you really did try to kill me back at the warehouse. Commendable. Though you were a tad slow making use of the technique."

She added, tone still idle, "That was part of my plan, you know. With the waterbenders. I wanted Zuzu to see that he really needed to push you to fight harder, to use all your strengths, however unpleasant you might think they are." She eyed Katara briefly. "And if your display in the clearing is any indication, I would say you do seem to have embraced your inner bloodbender."

She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes toward one of the gold posts of her bed. "Most unfortunately, I don't think Zuzu had anything to do with it. You, an uncultured rube, would make a better Fire Nation soldier than Zuzu. You at least have better instincts."

Azula had always liked the sound of her own voice, particularly when she was indulging in her favorite pastime of insulting everyone within earshot. The insults disguised as compliments seemed to be her favorites. Katara knew Azula would probably keep going like this all day if she didn't speak.

"Are you really going to try to make Zuko trade your life for your mother's?" Katara asked.

"I'm not making him do anything," Azula replied complacently. "He's the Fire Lord. I'm locked in a room in a wheelchair. He can do whatever he pleases."

"But you know he won't," Katara pressed. "At least—you know he doesn't want to."

Katara breathed, fingers automatically rising to brush the cool surface of the jewel of her mother's necklace. She continued softly, "Azula, you… when you saw… when you thought… Isn't there a part of you that's relieved? Wouldn't you want to see your Mother come back safely?"

Katara half expected an immediate scoff and another smug comment, but Azula seemed to consider the question seriously. Her eyes roved over the room, the gold on the walls, the crimson curtains over the head of her bed.

"If she were to survive… and she were to come back here… what advantage would it be to me?"

Her eyes slid back to Katara, and her face was no longer sardonic, but calm. It was a serious answer, rather than a taunting one.

Katara pushed on, "Your mother loves you, Azula. She came to help you, when no one else would. You always—turn people against you. Doesn't it—hurt? To always be alone?"

Azula's eyes wandered the walls above Katara's head, as though Katara were too boring to hold her attention. But her eyes had narrowed again.

"Friends…" she mused. "Family. People I could trust, instead of enemies. Perhaps… even I could see the appeal in that."

Her wandering eyes suddenly dropped, to meet Katara's once again. They were cold and empty. "But then again," she said, "that would make me just like you."

She continued, "Always holding back your power, forever bound by the need for their acceptance, their approval. You are forced into weakness, even when you know better, out of fear of losing their affection. That is why, even sitting bound in this chair—I have more freedom than you."

Katara wanted to fire back an argument, but instead, she forced herself to stop, to think. For a moment, her mind wandered back, to that evening they had finally made it back from their trip to the North, all tired and worn in body and spirit. Suki, after reuniting with Sokka, taking her aside, tears in her eyes as she pulled her into a hug.

They'd had time to talk in private later. I'm sorry, Suki had said. I'm sorry—

Suki was a hardened warrior of Kyoshi, and yet the bloodbending had unnerved her. Suki eventually came to the same conclusion as Katara, that if it could be used to save someone, maybe it should be used, but Katara could imagine only too well the creeping sensation along Suki's skin as she thought about seeing Katara do what she had done. Katara had hated bloodbending simply for what it was, yes—and yet she had also buried it for so long just as much because she didn't want people to see such a power in her hands. Master Pakku, Gran-Gran, Dad—

Katara accepted that she might have to use it, regardless of what people she loved thought, how they looked at her. And yet, just as surely, she would also never stop caring what they thought. All of her friends, and Aang—they might agree or disagree with things she had done, and it might hurt how they looked at her, and she might decide that they were right and she was wrong. But she loved them all, would never stop fighting for them, and she wouldn't trade a single one of those bonds for all the freedom in the world.

Katara sighed deeply. "...We're never going to be able to understand you, are we Azula?"

"Did you expect to?" Azula answered. "But I suppose you can't help yourself. You want to find common ground—because it would make you feel more comfortable. If you could see me as even a little like you in some way, rather than a greater being far beyond your limited understanding."

Katara knew there was no more point to this conversation. There were people who were closer to Azula and more wise who had talked to her, tried to help her see what she seemed unable to see, and they had all been unsuccessful. Katara hadn't expected to get any further, and she hadn't. It was time to ask what she had actually wanted to ask—maybe Azula would appreciate the self-interest.

"You know where Hama is," Katara said without preamble.

Azula had been cagey when Katara had asked before, but this time she only shifted her shoulders slightly in the straitjacket, a shrug.

"Probably," she said. "I doubt the crone would have moved from where we left her, she would be waiting for us to return. She really liked me, you know. No doubt she'll be so disappointed when she discovers the truth."

"You could tell me where she is," Katara pressed.

The corner of Azula's lips curled, her eyelids sunk. "Now, why would I do that?"

Katata drew in a slow, steady breath. Trying to think—what logic she could use that might have any impact on Azula.

She gripped her wrist, pressing her thumb to the bone until the tips of her fingers felt numb. At last she breathed, letting her eyes drift away.

"I know you already know this," Katara began. "But for the longest time, I thought I was the last waterbender of the Southern Tribe. The others were all captured or killed before I was born. So, when I trained how to waterbend, I had to study at the North Pole, under a northern master. Hama is the last real southern waterbending master I've ever met—at least the last one who still remembers enough of the old ways to teach them."

She paused, expecting Azula to interrupt with a jeer. However, she didn't, and though her expression was unimpressed, Azula watched Katara out of the corner of her eye, with a hint of unwilling curiosity. Perhaps wondering why Katara would open up this way to Azula of all people, what she could possibly hope to gain.

Katara breathed, and continued, "I think I've always known… I need her to teach me again. I can't let all the old secrets of southern waterbending be lost. But I've been afraid, too—because I know, if she agrees to teach me, she'll want me to hate, like she does. Explore bloodbending like she did. I couldn't face it—face her—before. But now I know I have to."

Azula hadn't turned her head, but now her shoulders had angled themselves in Katara's direction, the curiosity now mingled with a gleam of anticipation. Waiting for the best moment to use this heartfelt speech to quash all hope.

Katara pushed on, "You're right, I've—embraced it. Sort of. I've used it so much more than I ever wanted to. And a part of me is afraid of what will happen to me if I ever let myself go any deeper, which is what Hama will want. So—So—"

It suddenly occurred to Katara that perhaps she had not thought this plan out well enough. She finished lamely, "So, um, if you told me where she was, I could end up, like, turning evil. And think of how guilty Zuko would feel then."

Azula regarded her for a long minute, before she slowly leaned back in her wheelchair. She laughed suddenly—a strange, unnerving sound, and possibly the most real laugh Katara had ever heard from her.

"Nice try, peasant," she said, eyelids sinking. "Now, please go away, before I start becoming fond of you. I have important guests to welcome. I assume little Zuzu is bringing the Avatar to see me, and I want to look my best."

The sudden obvious predatory leer on her face made Katara want to slap her, but she settled for a scowl instead. "You really do always have to win, don't you Azula?"

Azula's eyes wandered inattentively away, though her lips curled. "I don't always have to win, peasant. I just always do."

Katara lingered there a moment longer, shifting from foot to foot, wondering if there was some other argument or tactic she might use. But, there were indeed some battles with Azula that were probably unwinnable.

At last, grumbling to herself, Katara went to the door, pulling it open, ready to wait outside for Zuko to come back. However, just before she closed the door behind her, she glanced back a moment, at Azula still sitting in her wheelchair.

Azula was staring at the blank side wall with a strange intensity, as though she were a Ba Sing Se University student studying for a final exam. Madly scribbling calculations.

Katara quietly pulled the door closed, wondering what games Azula still had in store.

The sun was just beginning to rise on a cloudless morning over the royal caldera city. Strobes of brilliant sunbeams spilled over the jagged edge, the high palace walls casting long shadows over the palace.

Mai stood atop the wall, her hands folded in her sleeves, which ripplied slightly in the early morning breeze. She scanned the city, the sea of crimson roofed homes, the gardens to the southwest, the lake to the east. At last she turned, walking back to gaze instead down within the palace walls. In the courtyard below stood several figures, from this distance little more than ant-fleas. The only one visible at this distance was a large white creature with a red-brown arrow in its fur, a saddle on back.

"I'm kinda surprised you didn't want to say goodbye," commented a voice behind her. "Now that you're, you know."

With a sigh, Mai turned, to see Ty Lee, free of her usual armor and facepaint, balancing on her hands along the walk. She stepped one palm forward, then the other. She hopped up once, then landed again, placing her hands in a different position.

Though Mai would never admit it, Ty Lee's acrobatic skill still amazed her sometimes. They had gone through much of the same training at the Academy, but often Ty Lee's abilities seemed to border on supernatural. Though of course, Ty Lee had occasionally had to pay for it in little ways down through the years. Azula hadn't always liked when other people were better than her at something.

"You could have at least given him a goodbye kiss," Ty Lee continued.

Mai rolled her eyes. "We already said goodbye. I think we both thought it would be better for everybody if I wasn't around when…"

Mai's eyes wandered back to the courtyard. The bison was beginning to rise into the air now, and as it did, Mai could make out the figures sitting in its saddle. Avatar Aang sat on the bison's head, easily distinguishable in his airbender oranges and yellows, while the Water Tribe girl and boy had taken up closer to the back, in their blues and whites. Zuko leaned back against the front hump of the saddle, once again in his old traveling clothes. And, right in the middle of them all, sat Azula.

Unlike the trip to Hira'a, Azula's hands were bound in chains, along with her feet. However, her mouth was still inadvisably free. Azula's mouth was always the most dangerous thing—not because of the fire she could breathe out like a dragon, which Zuko and the Avatar both could handle without a problem, but the lies, which Mai was sure hadn't stopped, even now.

"I'm sorry, Mai."

Mai blinked once, then glanced back to see Ty Lee was no longer walking on her hands. She had placed her feet back on the ground, and now she folded her hands together in that way she always did when she was worried.

Mai glanced back toward the courtyard, but the bison had already lifted far up into the sky, and was now a shrinking dot on the morning horizon.

"Sorry about what?" As Mai spoke, she moved in the direction of the nearest staircase. Perhaps she would go find Zuko's mother's husband, or Zuko's little sister. They hadn't been told about the possibility of Lady Ursa still being alive—it was decided it was better to wait until she was brought back safely, if she was brought back safely. Mai didn't have anything to say to them, and she wasn't particularly good at comforting people grieving, but doing something for Zuko and his family sounded better than sitting around, waiting to find out if Zuko would come back, what catastrophe would befall them next.

Ty Lee followed, shoulders hunching. "Well… I mean, you and Zuko finally got back together again. And Azula was… you know. Where she couldn't hurt him. Now Zuko's leaving, and Azula's free again, sort of."

Mai had just passed into the shadow of the stairwell, and there she paused briefly. "It's all right," she murmured at last.

"All right?"

Mai flicked her fingers irritably, wondering why Ty Lee always seemed to want to have these types of conversations. "I mean I'd already decided. Even if he hadn't come back with Azula, and she was still out there somewhere." She stared straight ahead at the stone. "I can't spend my entire life not caring. Or trying not to care, because of what could happen. Then I'd be no better than Azula."

It wasn't cold out, but she felt her hands come around herself anyway. "Even if Zuko doesn't make it back now—I've decided. I won't regret."

Mai glanced to the side, to see Ty Lee staring at her with eyes large and teary with emotion. "That's so wonderful, Mai."

Mai half turned away. "Ugh. Don't you have something better to do?"

Ty Lee considered the question seriously, finger pressed to the side of her cheek as she continued to follow Mai down the stairwell. "Not really. I mean, I'm off shift now, and I already went to visit the institution where Azula stayed this week. That was the last important thing I was planning."

Mai sighed and, knowing Ty Lee would keep hinting around it until Mai asked the question, she said, "And why would you have wanted to go there?"

Ty Lee shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted… to meet Azula's Kemurikage. To see what they were like."

"And what were they like?" Mai asked dryly.

Ty Lee smiled, ducking her head. "You were right. I guess they didn't really think of Azula as their friend. She just broke them out, and she was their only way of keeping from getting captured. The girl who was in the palace though—you know, Zirin—she was the weirdest one. She really didn't seem to like Azula at all. But then she would talk about Azula breaking her out again. And—she kept talking about how it wasn't her fault. That Azula couldn't blame her because she'd done everything right."

"You didn't tell her Azula had been captured?"

Ty Lee scrunched her shoulders guiltily. "No. I wasn't sure if I should. Was that bad?"

"Probably just as well." Mai added, "But I guess it's always been like that. Azula doesn't try to make people think she cares about them, but her plans work—or they usually work, when she's sane. That makes people want to follow her." They'd witnessed first hand how Azula had won over the Dai Li, simply through her unshakeable confidence, her cunning and power that could be, in their own way, inspiring.

"Do you know what Zuko's plan is?" Ty Lee asked. "What he decided to do?"

Mai paused. Then she shook her head once. She had asked no questions and offered no advice, though from what she gathered she personally thought that to do anything other than hand Azula over as the Tribe girl had demanded was likely to end in Zuko's mother's death—for real, this time. Even if Zuko didn't want to do it, even if he hated it, Mai didn't think he had much choice. However, she couldn't push away the worry that, if Azula had offered up a plan, one that made sense, that would seem to solve everything, the temptation it would be to use it. Of all the lies Azula knew how to tell, the most dangerous were always the ones Zuko wanted to believe.

Sighing, Mai continued on down the stairs, accepting of the future, but still trying not to think about all the ways it could go wrong.

A/N: Another chapter down. (Yes, we did skip the full gaang talking to Azula for now. We will be going back to get a bit more on that later.) In the original draft, the full gaang was actually there for the first conversation rather than it just being Zuko and Katara, but for various reasons it ended up going this way instead.

Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!

Posted 9/8/23