Gladiator

by Seyary-Minamoto

In a world where the Avatar wasn't found, the Fire Nation took over two nations and they strive to overcome the last one. Water Tribe warrior Sokka seeks to fight for his people's rights, but he's captured by his enemies. His life is no longer in his hands as he fights as a Gladiator, and his fate will eventually depend on the Fire Nation Princess, who needs him for her own ends...

259. Chapter 259: Storytelling-Wedding 5

A/N:

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

THIS WAS A DOUBLE UPDATE!

PLEASE ENSURE YOU HAVE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER (258) BEFORE PROCEEDING WITH THIS CHAPTER!

Also… once again, I hope I handled the second-to-last scene of this chapter with proper care and respect for the characters involved, but its implications may sit poorly with some readers. While it's certainly something important, plot-wise, if that implication alone is too much to take for you, feel free to skip ahead to the final scene by finding the line: "The Fire Lord slept sparsely these days."

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Storytelling/Wedding

5

Changing the stars. An unthinkable, impossible wish, unattainable for one so little… for a simple life, in a simple world, as opposed to the eternity contained in the bright sparks that shone in the depths of a dark sky. Sometimes, bright, colorful shapes danced alongside them: the southern lights ever offered spectacles to behold when they formed up in the sky, a beautiful display of nature's harmony, of the fascinating phenomena it was capable of.

If only he had climbed that icy hill outside the village just to watch the colors swaying in the sky, the contrasts of darkness and light, of beauty sparkling brightly among the dark space between them… if only he could truly appreciate the beautiful view. If only his heart weren't clenched, so hard, so painfully that he could barely hold himself upright where he sat…

His hand was clenched, as well, around the dark velvet of the betrothal necklace he had been unable to let go of since he'd found it. Instead of gazing up at the sky, Sokka's attention focused solely on the necklace he'd worked so hard to perfect. For weeks he had devoted himself to the task of carving properly, refusing to offer her a poor rendition of an ancient Water Tribe tradition… determined to give it their own spin, merging their cultures together meaningfully.

And she had given it back. Somehow, at some point or another, she had given it back.

She could have refused to his face. She could have just told him she couldn't keep it… she could have simply asked him to hold onto it, if that was what she wanted. Instead… instead she had stashed it in his things quietly, he barely knew when… he barely cared, at this point. The gesture spoke for itself… her reasons didn't matter quite as much as his treacherous mind wanted to make him think they did.

He had broken down, unable to return to his work. Suki had to offer her own pointers and training ideas to the warriors waiting for him, for Sokka's crippling reaction to his discovery had frozen over his heart, much as it had been when he'd left himself to die on the pier at the harbor. It had taken him a long time to persuade Kanna that he just wanted to be alone… that he wouldn't do that again, no matter how miserable he was. Hakoda had been out on a hunt, Katara was busy working on building their defenses for the impending, inevitable attacks… his family wouldn't be burdened any further by his misery, if Sokka could avoid it.

How small and delicate that oval felt on his palm now, resting on his thick mitten. The white ridges, carved into the stone, felt as familiar now as on the day he'd crafted them. The thumb of his mitten brushed over the polished stone, and a miserable sigh shook his whole body: this necklace wasn't his to hold onto. It would be impossible to find even a shred of peace by holding it right now… for he hadn't asked for this. He hadn't accepted this. Much as she often did, Azula had called the shots, made choices he couldn't help but resent her for. That he understood her reasoning, or that he thought he did, couldn't change the heartbreak that took hold of him. It was her gift… it was hers. Returning it now… it felt like the absolute dismissal of every vow they'd made on those last days. Every promise to return to each other… to restore their relationship, by the time they did, no matter how long it might take until that day arrived.

Was there no point in hoping for that anymore, then? Was he to take this as her utmost surrender, the very final message she left him with? No hopes for a better future than what they were left with? Nothing but memories, stories to cling onto, to both cherish the past and forsake it, for the bright days they'd shared would never return again?

Tears welled in his eyes again… tears of frustration, of outrage, even of betrayal. She could have been forthright… she should have been. He didn't care if she didn't want to hurt him then… it hurt far worse now, for he couldn't know for sure what this meant. He couldn't simply pack up his things and go to the Fire Nation to ask her why she'd given back the necklace that she'd always accepted with a heartfelt smile, with that loving excitement she couldn't help but showcase openly when any of his gestures moved her deeply…

She had loved this necklace, damn it. She had loved him, too. She should have kept it.

She should have stayed with him.

He buried his face in his flexed knees, knowing the tears would run away with him anyway. He couldn't contain them before… he certainly wouldn't succeed at holding them back now. His grip on the necklace trembled as he brought it closer… as he found no comfort in holding it, unlike how it always had been. It had been his idea, too, for them to keep each other's necklace for the sake of staying close to one another, no matter what… if that was what she wanted, couldn't she have told him so? He wouldn't have fought it… he barely had fought her intentions at the very end. He would have accepted her choice, whatever it might have been…

Muffled footsteps in the snow. Sokka flinched, trying to stop the tears from rushing out, but he couldn't restrain the soft shake of his shoulders as he struggled to regain his breath. He cried silently, alone, well out of everyone's reach… and that certainly didn't sit well with his sister.

"Gran-Gran told me you were here," Katara whispered, softly. Sokka only seemed to hide further, unwilling to respond to his sister so far.

The waterbender released a deep breath before taking her seat beside him. Her gaze shifted towards the necklace, confusion rising inside her as she pondered what it meant. It resembled hers, to a fault… only, the stone in hers was circular rather than an oval. Hers was also sculpted out, as a relief, whereas the one in Sokka's hand was carved into the stone, with lines of white that crossed the blue to form…

Fire.

Katara gritted her teeth: it wasn't hard to decipher who this necklace had belonged to, or who it should have belonged to. Yet… what had broken her brother to this extent? Kanna hadn't understood it either, not when Sokka had made so much progress over the last week. He smiled more – mostly when he was telling his stories –, he talked with the rest of the tribespeople more often, and the fear the villagers held for him had shifted permanently into curiosity, apparently. He still was a far cry from the Sokka she remembered, Katara wouldn't deny that… a far cry from the Sokka she had met in Whaletail Island, too. But he seemed to be healing, as far as she could tell… and all that progress had been subverted, broken to bits, over his discovery of this necklace. He was back to the man he had been upon returning home… though maybe the truth was that he'd never stopped being that man, no matter if Katara hoped otherwise.

"Southern lights are out, huh…" she said, biting her lip – talking about the sky wouldn't help, she knew. "Guess you mustn't have seen them in a while."

To her surprise, Sokka sniffed and raised his head, somewhat. The lights fluctuated, making it a brighter night than the usual ones in the dark period. Katara had made her way to the small hill with a lantern, aware that she wouldn't have it easy to locate Sokka otherwise in the deep darkness of the everlasting night.

Sokka let himself gaze at the sky for a moment before a sigh slipped out of him. His gaze returned to the necklace… then, it shifted to the snow before him.

"I know you're worried… I know I've given you cause to be," he whispered, his voice tattered, strained. "But you don't have to watch over me right now, Katara. I… I'll be fine. I just…"

"Whatever happened, it hurt you badly," Katara whispered. "There's no shame in that, Sokka. There shouldn't be."

Sokka swallowed hard, tightly shutting his eyes again. Katara sighed, letting her gaze travel to the village's enclosure again. Life had been so much simpler, once…

"I owe you an apology, don't I?" she said, softly. Sokka nearly jumped where he sat upon hearing the unexpected words. "Probably many apologies, actually."

"K-Katara…" he dared glance at her through his tearful eyes, unsure of what the motive behind her words might be.

"I have no idea how many times you've done this since we were young," Katara said, with a sad smile. "How many times you've just… rushed off to deal with everything by yourself. How many times I ignored you were hurting or took for granted you could handle it just because you were my big brother and you always had a snarky answer for everything. I guess… Mom used to comfort me, when I cried. Then Gran-Gran and Dad did too. You did it as well, a few times… but I can't remember ever seeing you cry until you came back to us, Sokka."

He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard at Katara's observation. He had repressed a lot of emotions over the years, Sokka knew he had… he had forced himself not to react to many tragedies the way he should have, for there was much work to be done and he didn't have the luxury to cry until it was finished. Maybe, sometimes, he'd let himself grieve and brood in his room, when they were stuck indoors during blizzards… but usually? He forced himself not to feel everything he was feeling. He had to protect the Tribe, at all costs… it was far more important than his personal comfort or safety.

It was just one more factor he hadn't even noticed had changed over the years: he did cry in the Amateur Arena, cowering in the dark, especially during his early months stuck in that nightmare of a place. Afterwards, he buckled down and shut off his emotions again, as best he could… and then she'd reentered his life. She'd found him and she'd given him new purpose. He had to protect her at all costs, too… but she protected him, just as much. She talked to him about his sorrows… she was concerned with his wellbeing, prioritizing his health, whether that of his body, mind or soul, and doing her best to keep him in his best possible shape, in all regards, before he had to step into the ring and take on another dangerous enemy.

She had changed him in more ways than he knew, more ways than he'd ever recognized. With her, he didn't have to be the confident older brother, the tribal leader, that everyone else leaned on and upon whom all hopes were deposited. He didn't have to shoulder everything… no, she had been the one to do that, instead. And without knowing it, precisely because he understood her pressures far better than he realized, Sokka had helped her. He had recognized the struggle, her rejection of emotions, her forceful rationality, for it was her only way to stay level-headed and stand her ground against every challenge. He hadn't allowed her to lose herself to sorrow and grief… he had helped her, at every point he could, and she had done the same for him.

In so many ways, they had set each other free.

He sighed, rubbing his tearful eyes with his mitten. Katara watched him compassionately, remorse filling her heart. To no surprise, Sokka shook his head.

"You… don't owe me any apologies," he whispered. "I didn't keep everything in because I… because I didn't trust you. It wasn't like that, back when we were kids… it isn't like that now, either. It just… hurts. Even thinking about… about speaking my mind, it's like I'm stabbing myself. My throat closes in, I can barely breathe, it… it feels bad. I… I don't even know how to explain how I feel, so… instead of burdening you, or Dad or Gran-Gran, I just try to deal with it myself."

"Well, you're free to do that, if you're sure you want to," Katara said, biting her lip. "But… you don't have to, alright? And more importantly… you're not a burden, Sokka. You're my brother… you're our family. We love you… I hoped you already realized that, since you were so much calmer lately. But whatever you've been through… it really doesn't change that, okay?"

"Not… not even for you?" Sokka asked quietly, glancing at her with unease. "I… I know after you saw the scar, you… you must have felt terrible. But did it really change what you thought of me?"

"No, it didn't," Katara said, breathing deeply. "It changed… what I thought of her, not of you."

Sokka tensed up, as his sister's gaze was lost in the horizon again. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes after a moment.

"You know why I have so much trouble accepting all this. Even back in Whaletail Island, I… I felt so weird being anywhere near her. Kino thought I was going to attack her at some point, because I always said I wouldn't forgive her for taking you… and the truth is, he wasn't wrong to worry about that because that's what I always had intended to do. I figured… I'd whisk you away, once we traveled to the Fire Nation. We'd take you with us, and she'd likely come after us, and I'd fight my damnedest to ensure she couldn't keep up… so, you see, I had a whole fantasy cooked up in my head and when I actually saw her that day, I… I didn't know what to do. I was at a loss. She was intimidating… but she was also nowhere near as inhumane as I expected, as I always prepared myself for. From the day Kino told us you were her gladiator, I should've expected, accepted, that reality might not shape into what I thought it would… then, Zuko and Suki were so sure you two cared about each other, at least to some degree. I refused to believe it… because it was too difficult to wrap my head around it. Gran-Gran and Dad, they didn't seem to mind it much, as long as she was truly the wonderful woman who saved Suki, as that'd mean she either wasn't that bad, or that you'd helped her learn better… but I was too proud to wrap my head around the possibility that maybe she wasn't who I thought she was.

"Then, all this… it's been a lot, you realize? Everything you've revealed, whether that day by the harbor or when you share the stories of Princess Jing… it's been a pretty serious reminder that you've been living your life for all these years, in whatever quality you did, while I had no idea what was going on with you. I jumped to conclusions… I thought I knew more than I did. And now… I just want to hear more of Princess Jing and Wentai because it feels like another way of getting to know my brother. To understand who you've been, in all these years… because, well, you'd shared a lot of these stories in a truncated way, back in Whaletail Island. But you did skip… well, everything about your relationship. Because… you knew I wouldn't understand, right?"

Sokka swallowed hard, tears burning in his eyes. He only offered Katara a half-hearted shrug, and she sighed at the sight of it.

"I wouldn't have, why lie?" she said, biting her lip. "It was impossible for me to wrap my head around this in a single day, and that's all we had. So… I won't pretend to be much better than I am. Won't do me any good… won't do you any good, either. But that day, by the harbor… I guess you really got to me. When you told me… to slow down for a moment and let myself believe, if just for an instant, that everything you'd told us was the truth. That she had gone through all those hardships to save you… that you were so desperate to go back to her that you disregarded all sense and laid there waiting for her to come back. That she's probably going through hell on earth right now, for you… and in the meantime, I was just here, judging her and condemning her without understanding how badly she's struggling right now."

Sokka swallowed hard, glancing at Katara with unease. She pressed her lips into a tight line, releasing another slow breath before speaking again.

"If you were right… whatever she did to break your heart now, Sokka, is there any reason for it?" Katara asked, softly. "Does it… does it make any sense? Would it hurt her, just as badly as it hurt you, if not more so, to do what she did?"

Sokka gritted his teeth and lowered his head. He took a moment to respond, and Katara waited patiently, uncertain if he'd speak at all.

"It must have hurt her. A lot," Sokka finally said, and Katara clenched her jaw. "This… this necklace, I… I made it for her. We always said… she'd wear it when we were free to be together. It was her betrothal necklace… the symbol of our commitment to each other. When I fought Combustion Man, I had the chance to bring it with me… I hoped that, if I died that day, she might still be able to reclaim it from my corpse. But she saved me… and when I offered her the necklace again, after I accepted that she'd bring me back here, she seemed unsure at first but then accepted it. She said she was worried that… that her father, his people, would find the necklace and destroy it if they had the chance. So, I'm guessing… I'm guessing that's why. It makes enough sense, I guess. But if she'd just… if she'd just told me, I would've understood. If she'd just said so… but she didn't. If she didn't want to hurt me… well, she sure as hell didn't think things through. It hurt more to find it now than… that it would've hurt to hear her say I should've kept it."

"A betrothal necklace, then…" Katara said, eyeing him with curious confusion. "I suppose if she returned it, it means…"

"Means the betrothal's broken?" Sokka said, mournfully. "Sure as hell feels like it. Maybe… maybe she just wanted me to offer it to her again when she comes back, but… but maybe she never will. And then I'll keep it forever, and I'll spend the rest of my days regretting I failed even at giving her this necklace…"

"Well… from another point of view, if you want to hear it," Katara said, swallowing hard. "If someone I love gave me something precious, and I might lose it… I'd think of it as a treasure. As something to keep safe, at all costs. In some way… that might be what she was doing?"

"Yeah. I know that, but… it doesn't hurt any less," Sokka admitted, closing his eyes tightly. "It sucks, Katara. I can't think my way out of this. I can't reason with it. All I can do is… is feel like shit at every damn moment. I wasn't fine, you know? Telling Jing and Wentai's story… it's fun for sure, but deep down, it was just a way to deflect things. To take control of the narrative… to pretend things turned out better than they did. To keep her with me, even when she's so far away… to make the memories sting less, if just for a moment. But then reality catches up with me and… and I'm back to square one."

"Because you're not very good at coping and working through all these bad emotions," Katara said, biting her lip. "No judgment here, though… I exteriorize my feelings all the time and I can barely make sense of them even then. And I definitely haven't been through… well, what you're going through. We've both known what it's like to lose those we love… but I guess this is worse than Mom for you, huh? You… you loved her, and you wanted to build a future with her. So…"

Awareness dawned on Sokka upon those words: was it worse? In some ways, maybe it was. Azula still lived, though… she was still out there, he knew she had to be, no matter what form of heinous punishment Ozai had cooked up for her. For as long as Azula still survived Ozai's worst, Sokka would have hope… damaging, devastating hope that filled his heart with a strange vertigo, as though he were about to leap off a massive cliff while hoping he'd somehow develop the skills to fly mid-fall, or that a massive eagle might snatch him up when he was plummeting to the ground. That tug in the pit of his stomach… he woke up feeling it every day. It never went away. The awareness that she was out there… that he could be with her now if anything had been different. That she needed him, too… that if the world were any kinder, they would have never been torn apart.

There was no such feeling with Kya anymore: there was no hope to be had. She was gone… and it was devastating, to this day, but it was a final, dreadful reality. It wasn't a suspended agony… it was a fulfilled one, of which they still picked up the pieces to this day.

Yet the actions of both Azula and Kya… Sokka frowned upon reflecting on them: they had immolated themselves, hadn't they? They'd stood between monsters and the ones they loved, demanding they'd be the ones to be punished instead, and the shadows they cast offered protective shade upon everyone else. Kya had paid with her life… Azula, by losing everything. Just as Kya had protected her daughter at all costs, Azula had protected him. Was he even worthy of that kind of sacrifice? Whether she was right or wrong… Azula had decided he was. Where she had once told him to love her less, if it meant he'd be alive and safe for a little longer, now it was Sokka who shivered in the snow, wishing her affection for him hadn't been so unconditional… wishing she'd restrained the love she professed for him. If only she had, maybe he would be the one paying the price, all of it. If only she had…

Was it a good idea, telling Katara the truth about Kya's demise? He wasn't sure about it. He glanced at his sister with uncertainty, finding she was just as apprehensive as he was, albeit for different reasons. She might never recover from learning Kya had died for her sake. It'd be an unacceptable reality for her: she'd sooner have died herself, he thought, for she wouldn't have wanted her safety to cost their mother her life. Much as Sokka now would gladly give up his own life, so long as Azula could be free.

She didn't need this weighing on her conscience. He wouldn't burden her with that knowledge.

"I'm not saying you have to lean on me right now… maybe you don't trust me not to judge you, after all," Katara whispered, lowering her gaze. "I've never had the most open mind, and… well, it wasn't easy to accept Zuko, and he was right here for me to truly get to know him. It's harder yet this way, but… I'm willing to try. To get to know her through you, through your stories… if you think that's okay."

Sokka remained silent, remorseful. Katara feared he'd send her away then, dark as his face had grown now… but then he nodded, and her heart jolted because of it.

"I don't… I don't mind. It's okay. It's even… good, that you're trying. I know it's hard… I know it's always going to be hard," Sokka said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand. "But I know you want what's best for me, Katara. I've never doubted that…"

"We just have very different concepts of what's best for you," she reasoned. Sokka nodded.

"At this point, though… I'm not sure I know what's best at all," he whispered. "Not anymore. Not when… when everything feels broken. I have no aim… no goal, nothing to work for. Just surviving once Ozai strikes… then, nothing. Whatever we swore and promised… it feels like it's never going to happen anymore. Like maybe she just… she just clung to that idea for a moment because it made things easier. Maybe we were lying to ourselves when the truth was… that we'll never find our way to each other again."

His throat tightened as he finished saying those words. It hurt… it devastated him. He longed for her so badly, he needed her… she had been such a bright beacon in his life, guiding him towards a future she was building slowly, a future she wanted him to shape with her. It was wrong to feel this way, he guessed… but however wrong it might be, he felt lost without her.

"Well…" Katara said, swallowing hard. "I know you don't want to hear that you can have a life here, even if she's not around. I know that's not going to help, so… I won't say that. But… what did she say, Sokka, when she brought you here? What sorts of promises do you think are broken already, just because of this? I mean… maybe they're not. Maybe I'm giving you false hopes too, but… isn't it possible she's just trying to keep everything she wants to protect in the safety of the Tribe?"

"She didn't think the Tribe was safe. She was pretty sure it wasn't, actually," Sokka admitted. "Had she known about the Avatar… maybe she'd have thought differently. Maybe she would've stayed, she might have thought we stood a chance… but that's why she left. Because she thought, if she turned herself in… she'd be able to stop her father. Maybe she's done that, huh? Maybe… maybe she's succeeded, somehow. Could be why he hasn't attacked us yet… and then we'll owe her the Tribe's survival yet again, won't we?"

"A favor we'll try to pay back by ensuring your survival, too," Katara said, softly. Sokka gritted his teeth. "I don't know, to be honest, if she succeeded… I don't know what the price might have been, if she really did. If the Fire Lord is truly the vicious demon everyone says he is…"

"He's no demon… he's a man," Sokka said, bitterly, frowning heavily. "A rotten, disgusting man unworthy of every damn boon the world's granted him. Unworthy of his throne… unworthy of his nation. More than anything, unworthy of his daughter."

"Well, whatever he is… she's definitely sacrificing a lot to keep us safe from him," Katara said, gazing into the horizon wistfully. "I don't like owing her anything, but… she did bring you back to us, huh? Regardless of what shape you were in when you arrived…"

"If you still won't believe that's my fault…"

"I didn't say I didn't. Though I still have trouble wrapping my head around that," Katara said, frowning. "Have you really wanted to die, Sokka… all along? All the time? You… you said something along those lines. I didn't want to make things worse by asking about that, but… I'm a little worried about you. Okay, no, I'm very worried about you."

"Yeah… well, I did want to die, Katara," Sokka said, his jaw square. "She… didn't like that side of me at all. Always told me I had no sense of self-preservation… she scolded me for it, a few times. But more than that, she… she was scared for my sake. She was worried about me. She… she didn't want me to feel that way. When I first talked with her about it all, when I told her I was scared of coming back here because I… because I thought I'd disappoint you all, she offered me the chance to visit the Tribe and then go back with her, if I wanted to. I didn't hesitate to agree to that. I just wanted… to be with her. To stand by her side, as I always did, as I always had. Before I knew it… I had a purpose, a reason to keep going and she was that reason. I could look towards the future, I no longer expected death at every corner, I didn't long for it… because I had Azula. Because when she found me one night, when I was losing my mind to my fears, she soothed me… and she told me she needed me. How could I ever want death when I had a chance to live with her?"

"So, when that chance was gone… you lost sight of reality," Katara finished, once her brother fell quiet. He nodded weakly. "You succumbed to your grief. And… you nearly died again."

"She… she'd be so angry if she knew," Sokka said, with a sad smile. "I can… I can picture the outrage on her face. She'd just… storm up to me and ask me if I'd lost my mind before slamming me with a dose of reality, straight to the point, and I'd try to apologize… then she'd likely tell me to save it. She didn't like it much, when I apologized… she'd probably be too mad to forgive me for nearly dying moments after she'd left."

"Well… as wild as it may be, I can't help but agree with her entirely about that," Katara said, with a weak smile of her own. "And… isn't that why she brought you here, Sokka? So… so you could live on?"

All the lingering, nostalgic humor on Sokka's face fled upon hearing those words. Katara swallowed hard, biting her lower lip.

"I don't know her half as well as you do, of course… I'd never pretend I do," she said. "I'm not going to be unreasonable and tell you something senseless like 'move on' or 'get over it'… I mean, I barely ever let go of anything that means something to me, I'd have no right to ask that of anyone else, would I? And… and after all this time, I still hurt so much whenever I think of Mom. I used to hurt just as badly when I thought… when I thought you were dead. That you're back here… that you're with us again, it's a miracle of a sort, Sokka. I know it's not where you want to be… I know it's not how you wanted your life to turn out. But… she didn't bring you back for no reason. She did it because… because she thought you deserved to live. To keep going…"

"So did she," Sokka said, snarling as tears burned in his eyes. "She… she deserves those things even more than I do, damn it…"

"Maybe. I don't know… I couldn't know," Katara sighed, reaching out a hand to Sokka's shoulder. "But if her very last wish was that you lived on… isn't it worth a shot, Sokka? No matter how difficult and painful it is, whenever you think of her… don't you think the right thing to do would be to honor her wishes for you?"

Sokka gritted his teeth, unwilling to meet his sister's eyes. Honoring her wishes? Living on, careless and happily, telling stories to her niece, relearning his place in the Tribe and gaining their respect…? Was that what he ought to do, from this day onwards? Was that all he would amount to? Had the best, brightest moments of his life already fizzled out… leaving him with a simple life he'd used to resent for its very simplicity?

Yet the truth was… the simplicity no longer was a problem. The stories… they helped. The people were already growing used to him again: most the fearful glares from his early days in the Tribe had turned into either neutral glances or friendly ones, these days. All of this would sit well with him, truly… if only Azula were here too. If only she hadn't returned to the Fire Nation… if only he could protect her himself, without simply having to rely on hope, on praying to spirits or gods he barely knew existed, in the hopes that she'd still be safe.

This was what she'd wanted… this was what she'd asked of him. To live on… to keep going, because if he didn't, she wouldn't be able to keep going too. As broken as his heart might be, was it only right to raise his head again and return to training soldiers tomorrow, to telling stories to children, too? Was this what she'd wanted for him… and was he honor-bound to fulfill that wish, because it was what she hoped he'd do?

Maybe so… maybe so.

He gritted his teeth, taking in a sharp breath before releasing it slowly.

"It might be," he said, swallowing hard. "But it… it's going to be much harder than anything I've ever done. Accepting this life, a life without her… I never wanted to do it. Whatever shape our future might take… I wanted to be by her side. Fighting Combustion Man, standing my ground against the worst gladiators… all of it sounds like child's play, compared to accepting that I might never see Azula again."

"I know… I know," Katara whispered, gritting her teeth. Sokka took another deep breath, easing the air out just as slowly as before.

"I'm not ready… I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and I don't think I ever would have been," Sokka said, earnestly. "But… I guess it is her last wish. The last thing she asked of me was… that I was patient. That I gave myself time to… to heal from all my wounds. That I ate properly… she even told me to hurry to the village, heh. And I messed it up, so… she'd be pretty mad, for sure."

"Well… she won't have to be, as long as you take better care of yourself from now on," Katara said, patting his back affectionately. "And if you refuse to take better care of yourself… well, there's still all of us, you know? We'll look after you too… so she won't have to worry. We'll give you the very best life you can live while you're here. Just… just what she hoped for."

Sokka gritted his teeth, letting his gaze move towards the necklace in his hands once more. Instead of tightly wrapping his hand on the velvet, he spread his hand to gaze at the stone resting on his palm. Painful as it was, surprising and unwelcome as it had been… maybe it was for the best. Maybe he had to keep it… maybe it was the best way to still feel her close to him, somehow.

And maybe he had to try to fulfill his many promises to her, too. To live on… to do it as best he could so that, if the day came when she returned for him, she'd have nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. Life here was difficult, no doubt… but it could be beautiful, too. Just as he would have been thrilled to be here with Azula, if she'd chosen to stay with him… just so, he should make the most of this chance, a chance she had given him, sacrificing so much just to ensure he lived on. It felt selfish to live this way, somehow… but was it truly, if that was her final wish for him? If that was the last request she'd made, before they shared the final kiss upon which he'd lost his heart, his life partner, his soulmate, forever?

She had asked it of him… the least he could do was try.

"I… I'll do my best, Katara," he said, his voice faltering. "Just… be patient, too. I… I don't know if this will happen again. If… if I'll break the next time I find anything that reminds me of her. As it is, everything does, so… I won't be back to who I used to be anytime soon. Fact is, I… I might never go back to who I was, before all this happened. Before I met her…"

"I don't need you to go back to that…" Katara said, reassuringly. "Not even back to the happy goofball you were in Whaletail Island. It's… it's okay, Sokka. I don't need you to try and fake a smile for me, or for anyone else… I'd rather know what's wrong. I'd rather help, if I can… or stand by you, if there's nothing else I can do. You're my brother, alright? And… I think I've wanted you back too damn hard, for too damn long, to act like a brat now and complain because you're not exactly the brother you used to be before you were taken away. Don't force yourself… don't lie to yourself, or to me, even if you think it's for my benefit. This will be hard… it will take forever, I bet. But… maybe there's a chance you'll be truly happy again someday, Sokka. And if there really is, I don't plan on wasting it. You deserve to live in peace… and I know she thought so too. So… even if you don't do it for us, do it for her. For the one you loved… the one who convinced you to keep living when you wanted to die. For the one who brought you here… who thought this was what was best for you. I don't know if she was always right in her assessment of you, but… I'd like to think she was, this time. We may not have been your home for all the years you were gone… but we can be, again, if you let us. When you're ready."

Sokka breathed deeply, and then offered Katara a small nod. He gazed at the necklace still, delicate and beautiful as it was, wishing he could feel a stronger resolve to do what Katara had asked of him… but that was what the patience was for, wasn't it? So that one day, maybe, he'd be that strong. So that, eventually, he'd find his way back to his people in every sense that mattered…

"I'll do my best" he whispered. Katara, beside him, smiled affectionately before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"I know it's not easy… but I'll do my best to help you, every step of the way," she said, with certainty. Sokka nodded weakly. "Now, though… I have a small question? If you don't mind answering, of course…"

"Hmm?" Sokka bit his lip, careless about the contents of his sister's inquiry at first. If she asked something too personal he'd likely shut her down, but he doubted she would. It was Katara, after all, so…

"Why did you make her a betrothal necklace?"

Her question caught him by surprise. He glanced at her to find genuine, confused curiosity as she reached out to touch the velvet in his hands.

"And, moreover… why does it look like mine?" she asked, eyeing Sokka cautiously now.

"That…" Sokka blinked once before smiling earnestly for the first time in hours, to Katara's utter surprise. "For a moment I thought you were questioning why I'd asked her to marry me…"

"No, no, it's just… what's this whole idea of a betrothal necklace?" Katara asked, blinking blankly. "I'd never heard of that before."

"It's an old northern tradition. I read about it in a book… a book Song had. Song, my healer and cook… damn, she cooked up a storm like no one else you've ever known, I guarantee it," Sokka explained, with a sad smile. As much as his pain for Azula trumped everything else, he missed all his friends, just as well. "Anyway, when northern men wish to marry a woman, they must craft and offer her a betrothal necklace. And yeah… I'm pretty sure yours is a betrothal necklace too, that's why they look similar."

"Mine? But mine is…!" Katara started, puzzled, as Sokka eyed her expectantly.

"Yours was… Mom's heirloom," Sokka continued when she fell silent. "Who got it from Dad, who gave it to her because it was Gran-Gran's…"

"Yeah… but wait, does that mean…?" Katara said, eyes widening as Sokka smiled and nodded. "Gran-Gran was engaged to someone in the North?!"

"I reached that conclusion, too… I hadn't thought to ask her about it yet, though," he admitted, with a weak smile. "It slipped my mind, but…"

"Oh, no. She's not getting out of explaining this, not on my watch," Katara determined, amusing Sokka. "Whenever you're ready, we're heading back down there, and she's going to tell me, point-blank, what kind of guy tried to marry her up there that she decided she was better off fleeing halfway across the world and giving away his necklace to her family's next two generations!"

"Should be fun for someone else to tell the stories, for a change," Sokka reasoned, with a chuckle.

The warmth of his sister's laughter didn't always get to him, but it did that night. Sokka smiled, leaning sideways against her, their heads resting together. From the moment he had woken up in the South again, she had rushed to stand by him, to help him up, to lend him her strength and heal his wounds however possible. Her frustrations, even her hostility, upon learning the truth, were easy to understand. But she made efforts now… efforts Sokka hadn't expected she'd want to make at all. She was patient… she was understanding. As resentful as she had been towards Azula, she had let go of her rage for his sake, if just for this moment – he had the feeling it would be longer than that, though. Katara meant to try her best to help him find his place back among his tribe… would Azula approve, if he let her?

He closed his eyes, evoking her in his heart, in his mind: he didn't see her broken, torn up by dark emotions, by fears and sorrow… no, he saw her smiling at him, those golden eyes glistening as she encouraged him with a silent nod. She had done this for him… she had done her very best for his sake. The least he could do was honor her sacrifices… by living up to the future she'd hoped to grant to him.

Her image dissipated as he let himself open his eyes again: the pain in his heart lingered: he knew it would never fade away. The stars above still glistened… but maybe he didn't resent them quite so much for remaining so firm and immutable anymore. Perhaps it was time to let go… time to live, for however long he could, among his people. Time to cherish what he'd regained… just as he had learned to cherish everything he'd obtained while in the Fire Nation. What he'd lost would never stop hurting… but he could hear her voice in his mind, encouraging him to move forward, for she could live on as long as he did. For her sacrifices had meaning, as long as he survived…

My gold fire… my inner flame.

My gladiator.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, and then released the air, puffing out in a white cloud that faded after an instant. His arm slipped into place around Katara's shoulders, startling his sister as he offered her that one-armed embrace.

"Katara…" he whispered softly. "Thank you."

"Uh… huh. Well, you're welcome," she said, smiling a little, unsure of herself. Her brother's new, serious, darker side certainly had taken her by surprise from the first moment… but never before had she heard him say anything quite so heartfelt and kind while speaking with that stern voice tone.

"I… I missed you," he said, with a sad smile now, gazing into the horizon, at the Tribe, too. A smidge of guilt still gnawed at him… the guilt of knowing himself, as always, unworthy of the blessings he'd been granted. Aware, always, that so many others deserved them, just as well… determined, as always, to make them count, by becoming a man worthy of them indeed. "I missed this place. The Tribe… our family."

"We all missed you too, Sokka", Katara whispered, wondering why, when Sokka finally seemed to settle down, she'd be the one on the verge of tears, instead. "I know you're not happy… who would be, under these circumstances? But… but we really wanted to see you again. As bad as it may be for us to rejoice in having you around again…"

"It's… not bad. I'm not angry that you're happy I'm in the South Pole again," Sokka raised an eyebrow, nudging his sister lightly. "I could never be."

"Really?" Katara asked, glancing at him with uncertainty, but hope…

Sokka nodded, and his smile gained more confidence, no matter how melancholic it still was. Resolve of some nature had taken form inside his heart, as much as Katara couldn't understand what that resolve truly was… but he might explain it properly some other day. For now, he squeezed her shoulder before saying.

"Let's go home. It's freezing out here."

"Took you that long to notice?" Katara teased him, lightening the mood as best she could before laughing softly, dabbing at the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

They rose to their feet, but Katara ensured to keep an arm wrapped around her brother, and he returned the favor, still embracing her shoulders. They made the trek back to the village together: for the first time since Sokka's return, Katara's enthusiasm had been revamped, and her heart was infused with hope. Her brother's heartfelt words, his gradual opening up to her, brought some peace to her heart, compelling her to hope that the dark times that plagued the Water Tribe – and not merely the ones related to the weather – wouldn't last forever.

---

Soft music, the clinking of cups, plates and bowls, chatter that rose in intensity, shifting into laughter at times… the cacophony of countless sounds rang across the courtyard in the Temple, especially prepared for the reception of the grand ceremony witnessed by an exclusive group of guests. Tables had been set and distributed perfectly throughout the enclosure of the courtyard, with a set of beautiful lanterns dangling right above the rejoicing guests, offering a warm glow to the slowly darkening evening.

Anyone with little knowledge or understanding of such events might actually believe it a cheerful, genuine celebration. Someone with no experience among the Fire Nation's high class would take for granted that the wealthiest citizens of Fire Lord Ozai's regime truly rejoiced today… but perhaps, upon setting eyes on the Princess, sitting immobile, quietly, next to the new Crown Prince, they might just perceive something was off in the false peace in the celebration's atmosphere.

None of the tension from the wedding rite had truly receded. The two small tables for the new spouses sat side by side at the head of the celebration: two rows of tables for the most important of guests flanked theirs, at a fair distance, yet not far enough to prevent the constant, frequent glares shot from the Fire Lord at his best friend… at his daughter, right beside him.

She hadn't touched her meal, not once. Zhao, busy accepting gifts gracefully from each approaching nobleman or highly ranked soldier, didn't appear to have noticed as much, just as Azula seemed utterly unconcerned with his activities. She was immobile, silent… if not for the light shift of her shoulders, Ozai might even wonder if she had genuinely died where she sat.

Ozai scowled, shaking his head before nudging the Imperial Guard assigned to guard him for the feast: the man received his newest order and nodded, stepping up to Zhao without any regard for the old man who currently knelt before his table. He seemed to explain his family tradition of decorated lanterns, such as the one he had gifted the newlyweds, which could glow most beautifully while also telling a story. Zhao hoped to make up an excuse to leave to the bathroom after the fifth detour the man had taken in his roundabout explanations, when the guard's presence finally daunted the guest into silence.

"If you would excuse us…" Zhao told him, with a tense smile that he didn't even bother masquerading as genuine. The man, terrified over the guard's sudden approach, nodded quickly.

"It's fine, it's fine! Do excuse me for taking so much of your time!" he exclaimed – Zhao thought he'd finally said something sensible. He turned towards the Princess, intending to address his farewell to her as well… finding, however, that she hadn't even raised her gaze to meet his. Pointless, then. "Congratulations on your wedding again. May you enjoy the lantern!"

Zhao nodded promptly, quickly ushering the man to leave. The guard beside him could have dropped by just to inform him that there was a worm walking on his table, for all Zhao cared… at least that meant he'd have one less bothersome guest to worry about.

The guard's words, however, weren't what he expected. He frowned quickly before glancing at his so-called bride: indeed, the opulent cuisine on her table remained untouched, to this moment.

"I see," Zhao told the guard, nodding to dismiss him as well. "I'll take care of it. And… if you might be so kind, find any other available guard who can get rid of the guests who take too long with their gifts."

The guard nodded obediently, and Zhao turned towards Azula only once he was out of earshot. She remained unresponsive.

"Your father isn't pleased that you haven't eaten at all," Zhao said, bluntly: there was no point in sugarcoating the truth. Chances were Azula would only react if he reminded her that her father's wrath was best kept at bay by doing exactly what he wanted them to. "Please remediate that, if you would be so kind. He's made enough scenes today, and the guests are scared shitless as it is, so…"

She still didn't speak. Zhao huffed, wondering if she'd fallen asleep with her eyes open. Of course she was grieving, he knew that, of course she was upset and miserable… but couldn't she get out of her cocoon of grief for at least one moment and act rationally? What would she gain from a tantrum like…?

Her right hand rose to her chopsticks, and she collected a small amount of rice she brought to her lips.

Zhao's mental rant slowed immediately. She remained expressionless, much as she had been before… but Ozai wouldn't have much of a right to complain about her unwillingness to eat, if nothing else. He'd likely come up with something else that sat ill with him, Zhao suspected, but for now…

"Thank you," he said to her, softly, before focusing on his own, half-finished meal.

More nobles would be brought before them, with more gifts to offer the newlyweds. As much as Azula had started eating, she had yet to respond to any words addressed to her. It didn't matter how polite someone might be, or how they deliberately sought to elicit any form of conversation between themselves and the royal, the Princess remained silent, as though her tongue had been cut off, her voice yanked out of her throat. Most guests found her behavior displeasing, Zhao could tell… but whenever any of them seemed to be about to criticize her for it, the Admiral would shoot them a warning glare that silenced them, in turn. Whatever they thought of the Princess, they were certainly better off keeping it to themselves or talking about it once they were well outside of earshot.

Only one person seemed utterly oblivious to Zhao's warning glares: her smug smirk was bad news from the moment she stepped up to accompany her father as he offered their gift, but Zhao mistakenly expected her to know better than to antagonize him, especially when he had only just been named Crown Prince.

"We hoped to congratulate you, Prince Zhao," Gao said, with the most amicable smile he could muster, as he offered an ornate box within which Zhao assumed they'd find an utterly useless trinket neither he nor Azula would care for – not that she cared for anything in general, these days. "We were most surprised to receive this invitation, nobody expected Princess Azula to take a husband so soon… but without a doubt, she is most fortunate it is you, of course! Our most upstanding, extraordinary Admiral…!"

Hina, beside him, ignored all his words as she smirked at Azula… at least, at first. Within a few moments, the lack of response from the Princess, as well as her apparent unwillingness to acknowledge her very existence, sat ill with Hina. She smiled unpleasantly at Zhao, her head tilted sideways lightly.

"I'm sure you two deserve each other," she said, startling her father, who eyed her warily, as though to warn her not to go overboard… a warning she, of course, would disregard in a heartbeat. "My husband thought the same, once he heard of your match. It's only a shame he couldn't be here to witness your union… I suppose Princess Azula might have feared she'd have second thoughts over tossing my dear Hahn aside if she saw him again. Is that it?"

"Hina!" Gao hissed, immediately panicking: he didn't want his daughter to make a scene of any sort in front of such a large audience, especially by picking a fight with their host, no less…

"Oh? Your husband wasn't allowed to come, then?" Zhao asked, and Hina eyed him warily. "I had no idea. The Fire Lord handpicked the guests himself, from my understanding… I expect whatever conditions he demanded you abided by were of his making. My bride has had nothing to do with it, I'm certain."

"Oh, please. No doubt she did it herself, she still holds a grudge since that day," Hina growled, leering at Azula skeptically. "Whatever she did with her Water Tribe man, she obviously is jealous that I took better care of mine than she did with hers."

That she spoke of fully grown men as toys, or even pets, didn't sit ill with Zhao… though it did with Azula, for sure. For the first time in the night, her brow drew together, a hand curling into a fist she wished to crash through Hina's teeth. With what little she knew of her, she had no doubt she'd be utterly defenseless…

And Azula would be in a world of trouble. She had very little interest in triggering her father's darkest side again, let alone by embarrassing him in front of his nobles.

So, she breathed, slowly, and closed her eyes. There was no point in engaging Hina, no purpose in letting her drag her into some confrontation that would help no one…

"You are out of line."

Zhao's sharp, sudden words caused Azula to twitch, slightly. The stern tone of his voice allowed no room for protest, and Hina didn't even try to pretend otherwise. She turned her eyes to Zhao, this time fearfully… and this time, she found his utmost outrage quite intimidating, as much as she'd have liked to pretend otherwise. It wasn't the way Hina spoke of those men, of course… instead, it was the fact that she'd speak to Azula with no sign of respect, altogether.

"I expect you to rescind your last comment," Zhao said, unyielding eyes glaring into hers. "And then I will ask you to step down, immediately."

"I apologize for Hina, Prince Zhao…" Gao grimaced, bowing his head, but Zhao shook his own.

"No. If she is already a wife, she should not hide behind her father's back whenever her actions carry consequences," Zhao hissed. "Your apology would be meaningless, lord Gao. Hers is the one I demand for. Now."

Hahn had told Hina about Zhao, relaying how demanding and infuriating he was… how unpredictable and unreadable, too. Unyielding when displeased, merciless when affronted, she would fight a losing battle if she attempted to refuse the man's demands right now: it was his wedding, after all, and as antagonistic as she felt towards the Princess, she couldn't possibly argue that she had been goaded into an argument she had picked and started, all on her own.

"I… I apologize," Hina said, bowing her head so Zhao wouldn't glimpse the frustration across her face. "I forgot my place."

"See to it that you don't make that mistake again," Zhao hissed: he wasn't stupid enough to believe the apology was genuine, but the less chaos this wedding saw, the better.

He dismissed them, and while Gao appeared relieved to get away so freely at first, his face reddened with pompous displeasure when he walked away with his daughter. However harshly he intended to scold her, it wouldn't faze Hina at all, in all likelihood.

"Thank you."

The words startled Zhao: he glanced quickly at Azula, finding her still emotionless… yet not unresponsive. He swallowed hard, eyeing her warily.

"I didn't wish for them to cause a scene…" he explained, unsure of why he was explaining anything at all, frankly. Azula nodded, a soft movement of her head, so light Zhao barely noticed it. "And I have no intentions of allowing anyone to speak to you that way."

Azula had seemed more alive just now, but Zhao only realized it when she faded back into that strange, deathlike state of hers. Had he said something wrong? Had her gratitude been the full extent of what she dared say to him, so far? He sighed: a thank you was better than nothing, at the very least.

More guests came by, and more gifts were offered: Azula had finished half her rice bowl, at least, so Zhao focused on receiving each new present, trusting she'd have enough sense to continue eating, no matter if she lacked an appetite entirely. Another pair came by with their gift and she focused on her food, ignoring them entirely. They took their seats, as everyone else did… and upon hearing the man's voice, Azula stopped in her motions.

"Please, accept our deepest and most sincere congratulations, Prince Zhao."

"Ah, Mayor Morishita. How fortunate that you could join us."

The chopsticks sank in the remaining rice as Azula's unresponsive eyes gained a fearful, wary quality… as they focused on the elegant clothes of the woman who sat before her. She didn't need to raise her eyes to guess her identity correctly… and yet she did, impulsive and foolish as she was.

The brown eyes of Kori Morishita met her own, filled with no shortage of distraught grief… no doubt, for her sake.

Azula couldn't hold her gaze. She didn't dare to. No… she didn't want any friends of hers here. Not Kori, not anyone… none of them should see her like this. None should have served as witnesses of the heinous crime she had only just committed… a crime against her very soul, against all sense and propriety, and against the actual marriage she had already consummated and lived in for the short months since that secret union…

Kori's eyes hadn't judged her. Azula wished they had. She wanted to be condemned… to be told she had made a terrible mistake, to hear from someone, anyone, that she deserved no forgiveness, no leniency, for what she'd done. Not compassion… not kindness. Not sympathy. If Kori showed any form of concern for her, anything at all, her father would immediately guess they were friends… and just as in the Amateur Arena, where any gladiators who got along briefly might be forced to kill each other on the next day, Kori would be a victim of her father's unless she didn't do anything stupid. If she stuck to her role, as her father's companion… as long as she did that, everything would be fine. But if she acted out, if she made even the smallest gesture of support…

Her lowered eyes couldn't possibly block off everything about Kori: she could see her movements, her hands working on her skirt, perhaps shifting into a more comfortable position… perhaps simply attempting to gain Azula's attention. Whatever it was, though, Azula wished she would understand… she hoped she would know better than to make any mistakes that couldn't be taken back. Kori had to know… she had to empathize enough to know that there was no way Azula would have agreed to this if she'd had any other choice. If fighting hadn't been more costly, too costly, compared to surrendering. If she were in the same situation, Kori might have done the same thing…

But her father sat beside her, talking amicably, kindly, with Zhao: Kori's father would have never put his daughter through the living hell Ozai had inflicted upon Azula. Kori certainly was fortunate for that.

"… It is but a small gift, but I certainly hope you shall enjoy it. Artisans in Yu Dao are renowned for their craft all across the world," Mayor Morishita said with an enthusiastic smile to a most puzzled Zhao, who had noticed his bride's small reactions, yet made no attempts to unravel them. He supposed that she knew the Mayor and his daughter, it would be no surprise… but the young woman sitting across Azula certainly didn't appear to have any ill-intent in mind, as opposed to Hina. If anything, the compassionate gaze with which she regarded the Princess would be troubling for the exact, opposite reasons why Hina was a cause for concern.

Kori's hands tightened on the fabric of her dress, and Azula held back a shudder for it. Kori… she hadn't only respected but admired her. Azula had inspired her in making difficult, but important choices… she had reassured her, too, in breaking away from Azula's example and finding her own path. Ironically, that path had wound up resembling Azula's own… but the Princess hoped, deeply, that Kori would outdo her in these regards. That she would keep Sneers safe… that she would never allow anyone to corner her the way Azula had been cornered. She could only hope the young woman would be better than her, and the likelihood was that she would be, for Azula now should be nothing short of the epitome of disappointment for her.

Shame seemed to course Azula's veins as her father's new, unintentional brand of torment ravaged her soul. He could have refrained from inviting those who might have known her… those she had any sort of positive relationship with. Dealing with Hina, or with Kuan, who had presented a gift as pompously as possible, among the first to do so – and Azula had ignored him pointedly the whole time –, was almost easy. Their disdain, their hatred for her… it felt suitable, fitting, what she'd earned, well reaped after sowing it. But compassion, kindness…? She wanted none of it. Any sign of it, even for an instant, would only represent a greater, worse punishment in the future, she had no doubts about that… but more than that, she felt unworthy of it. At this point… she truly felt unworthy of everything she had ever been, only to wind up as the hollow entity she'd become.

Her father had won in every sense that mattered. He had forced her apart from Sokka, into a loveless marriage with the man of his choosing, isolated her from all those whose loyalty she'd earned… and along with that, he had made her feel she deserved all of it.

"We sincerely wish you all the best, Prince Zhao," Morishita continued, after Zhao gave him some sort of answer Azula didn't care to listen to. "Me and my wife… and of course, my daughter, too. She and the Princess have become friends, over the years… it only seemed right that she would accompany me today."

It seemed right? He had decided to bring Kori just so she could congratulate Azula? Or had Kori chosen to come here, of her own volition, to offer her support instead? She wasn't likely to find whatever she might have hoped for, though…

"Ah, is that so?" Zhao spoke amicably, glancing at Kori next. "Well, I'm sure Princess Azula appreciates her friend's companionship. She has always valued such bonds."

Azula tensed up: was that meant to be some sort of challenge? It would likely unsettle Kori to not even be acknowledged, just as Azula had refused to acknowledge anyone else to stop by here… she would be distraught if their bond felt false now when it had been perfectly genuine until the last time they met and spoke. Azula gritted her teeth: she wanted to push people away on her terms… not by lies and political schemes spun either by her father or Zhao. She wanted them to understand… she did this for their sake, not for hers. She still valued them, of course she did… but they were better off away. They were better off away…

She allowed her gaze to rise again, as unwilling as she was to look at Kori at all: the young woman's distraught eyes found hers immediately, and the hopelessness she had exhibited since taking her seat before the Princess dwindled, shifting into perplexed hopefulness instead…

"Oh, absolutely," Kori's father said, smiling kindly at Azula. "In all the years we've been acquainted, I have gained nothing but respect for Princess Azula. I'm sure that won't change anytime soon."

A bold claim to make, though it shouldn't have felt so bold at all… yet it sent a strange rush through Azula's body, aimed towards her heart. No, she didn't deserve that kindness… she didn't deserve to be defended at all, or to be spoken of with such reverent loyalty. But that anyone still dared do so…

Kori nodded at her father's words, and Azula grinded her teeth painfully upon noticing as much.

"I feel the same way," she said, proudly.

Azula's urges to cry, to retch, to sink into the ground below and be enveloped by lava, increased so vastly she barely had the strength to reel them in. No longer could she hold back the trembling, light as it was, but still visible enough for concern to surge in Kori's face. No, Azula couldn't even fathom speaking aloud now… not right now. But she didn't want to reject Kori's declaration of loyalty either… just as she knew she couldn't quite accept it boldly.

If only there were a way to speak without words… the way she'd been able to with Sokka, sometimes. If only she could do something, anything, to communicate her heart's true feelings…

Upon glimpsing Kori's constant wringing of her dress's fabric with her nervous hands, an idea crossed Azula's mind.

"Well, then, we are both grateful to you for attending our wedding and feast," Zhao said, bowing his head curtly towards Mayor Morishita, who imitated him quickly, and Kori followed suit. "I certainly hope your journey wasn't too lengthy or troublesome."

"Be sure to visit us in Yu Dao, whenever you have the opportunity to do so," Morishita smiled as he rose back to sitting upright, right after Zhao did… but Kori didn't.

The Mayor glanced at his daughter, puzzled by her long reverence. Her eyes had widened, and she lingered in place, gazing at Azula… no, at Azula's lap.

Rather, at the thumbs-up shape in which she'd positioned her trembling right hand, concealed from Zhao's sight by the large sleeve of her left, as she had raised it to pick up her chopsticks once more.

Kori gasped, raising her gaze at the Princess in utmost disbelief: Azula had shut down again, however. Her facial expression had been schooled back into utter bleakness once more, as though disconnected from her hand's motion. But there it remained… right before Kori's eyes. She knew what that meant… anyone who'd so much as heard of the Princess's achievements would know what it meant. It wasn't a simple gesture of reassurance… it was a symbol of confidence, of strength: a symbol of her gladiator, no less.

Kori rose slowly back to her proper sitting position, clenching her jaws as tightly as she could to keep herself from crying: she had no idea what the Princess had endured, what she'd been through… but her gladiator's absence on this day spoke for itself. Were this happening on her terms, she wouldn't let her new husband take charge of every exchange with the wedding guests. She wouldn't have been the embodiment of the silent, submissive, porcelain-like wife whose only duty was to accompany her husband… that she acted this way was, in itself, a sign of rebellion. A sign of resentment… a direct display of how unwilling she was to accept this so-called fate her father had inflicted upon her, for it couldn't be anyone else's doing.

Whatever had happened to Sokka, Kori could only hope he was okay, both for his sake and the Princess's. That she'd dared use her gladiator's symbol suggested that, as much pain as she had to be undergoing, it wasn't enough that the mere thought of him would shatter her… so Kori hoped he still lived. Wherever he might be, whatever state he was in… if a man as strong as him could survive where Combustion Man had perished, he had to survive the Fire Lord's wrath as well, somehow.

"You may retire now," Zhao said, startling Kori out of her thoughts.

The young earthbender glanced at the Admiral warily, as Azula reeled back her left hand silently. The thumbs up shifted into a tight fist once her left arm's sleeve couldn't conceal the gesture from Zhao's sight any longer… but Kori had seen it. That was what mattered.

"Thank you, again, for your gracious invitation," Morishita spoke softly before rising to his feet, urging his daughter to follow.

Kori allowed herself to gaze at Azula for as long as possible, even as her father pulled her away. Curses… she hadn't been able to do a damn thing for her. She hadn't even managed to say anything to soothe her, to support her, to ensure she understood that, no matter what hardships she faced, she could always count on her… no, instead it was the Princess – she who had lost everything, who appeared to face the most devastating moments of her life – who offered her some form of appeasement through that thumbs-up. Kori gritted her teeth as her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her away, leaving the cushions for the next nobles who would sit upon them… and he did so at the right time, certainly, for Kori's eyes flooded with tears as they walked back to their table. It was bad enough already that Azula attempted to offer her even a smidge of comfort… Kori couldn't trouble her any further when she was as burdened, devastated and lost as she appeared to be right now.

She had wanted to help… she still did. But what could she possibly do when the very world the Princess had inhabited all her life, a world she knew far better than Kori did, had turned against her?

"There, there… it's alright, Kori," her father said, as her shoulders shook with a light sob.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to… to cause any trouble, Dad…"

"You didn't. You did fine, my dear… you did fine."

Despite her better sense, Azula allowed herself to watch them walk away. The sight of a father embracing his daughter when the young woman was distraught… if she had little appetite already, it died out even further after that. She could only hope Kori appreciated her better fortune… that she would cherish the kind father that treasured her. Azula, despite her better sense, could only envy their closeness… their evident love for each other. Whatever affection she'd held for her father in her battered heart had certainly tumbled out of it, stomped out of existence underneath Ozai's own, merciless boot.

"I take it you don't intend to speak to anyone today?" Zhao sighed, glancing at her warily. Azula's brow drew into a frown. "I won't force you to, evidently… but it is quite alright to speak with your friends, if any others have been invited. No one will hold it against you."

Whether he spoke out of genuine ignorance, or he merely wanted to lull her into a sense of security she'd never feel again, Azula couldn't help but resent his words, and the carelessness with which he spoke them. He had been there, he had seen her crumble before her father… and he thought she'd risk the lives of anyone else that still mattered to her, just for the sake of playing the kindly hostess? Any displays of overt friendliness would merely offer her father more targets than he already had at his disposal.

"If so…" Azula dared speak, and she barely knew where the edge in her voice had come from. "Where are my other friends today, Admiral?"

Zhao frowned at her question: he knew of Mai and Ty Lee, though he seldom met or interacted with them. He knew, as well, that Ozai had summoned them at some point to the Palace… that he had sent Azula to speak with them once. Ozai was the one who determined the guests for today's celebration… and there was no sign of the stoic young woman, or the excessively cheerful one, anywhere among the tables distributed for today's celebration.

Ozai expected more rebelliousness. He expected Azula to hold a card in her sleeve, of any sort, to overturn the day's events and come out triumphant, somehow. He wouldn't risk letting her friends nearby in fear that they might be the means through which Azula would take action… it was, Zhao realized, the only explanation for their absence.

He gritted his teeth, tearing his eyes away from Azula. As punished as he felt, in light of the circumstances, he had no doubt it was nothing compared to the pain Ozai still inflicted on his daughter with his every choice.

"I apologize. It was I who was out of line now," he said, curtly. Azula gritted her teeth, saying nothing in response.

More guests followed, none of whom distressed Azula again, not until her rice bowl was near empty, and she had also forced herself to eat some of the contents of the side-dishes. The unfamiliar cuisine style was still grating, even if the meal didn't lack quality. It was, as ever, a bitter reminder of all the people her actions had affected… all the people she no longer had any power to save, to spare from the consequences of her actions.

Then, a new pair stepped up to offer their congratulations… a pair that carried the largest gift to be brought to the newlyweds so far.

Even the miserable Princess couldn't remain impassive at the sight of the large, black mahogany box, adorned with no shortage of golden, flourishing decorations: a design so thorough and careful certainly couldn't be a last-minute gift bought for a wedding they had been invited to on such short notice. Zhao seemed stunned cold too by the large gift… but more so, by the fact that the man carrying it had walked towards the cushion before Azula, rather than the one before the newly appointed Crown Prince.

It was his wife who sat before Zhao, beautiful and young, with a spark of cleverness in her eyes that revealed she knew exactly how controversial she and her husband were right now… and that she didn't regret any of it, no matter what the consequences might turn out to be.

Azula was taken aback. Her eyes flickered towards Jin quickly, instantly fearful of what her father might make of her presence, of the utterly outrageous notion that the lowborn Earth Kingdom woman would sit before the Crown Prince… while the Governor of Ba Sing Se, on the other hand, took his seat before her, setting down the large gift with a soft sigh.

"I apologize for the unwieldy present," Tiang said, with a light grin, perfected for dealing with unpleasant nobles of all sorts. "But upon receiving the news of your impending nuptials, I had the feeling I could offer a meaningful gift to you, not only as a gesture to acknowledge my long-standing respect for you, Princess… but in the hopes that you might be able to give this instrument better use than I have, in all the years it's been in my possession."

He hadn't said anything along the lines of congratulations for their wedding, a remarkable breach in protocol that Azula expected he would remediate later… yet her rational mind, her concern for Tiang's wellbeing, didn't supersede her curiosity. Something about that box felt eerily familiar, though she couldn't place it…

Tiang didn't wait for Azula to ask him to open the box, immediately moving to do so himself. The delicate golden clasps opened under his fingers, and he raised the lid of the box to reveal a delicate, long instrument with a set of strings taut and stretched across movable bridges, positioned in a delicate arch. A depiction of an embellished golden phoenix decorated the head of the guzheng, matched by another one at the tail, as well as many more adornments around the blackwood frame.

Memories Azula had discarded, from what felt like another lifetime, hit her then: she had seen that instrument before, the very same one… when she was a child, no less. That guzheng had once been quite the sensation in the Palace, when its former owner had graduated from the military Academy and bought it for himself: he had decided he needed something else to occupy his time with other than the war. The tunes he had been able to evoke had soothed Azula to sleep a few times, when she had been far too young to truly appreciate the beauty of the guzheng, as well as the talent of the young man who played it with delicate, heartfelt passion.

The world seemed to go away, if just for a moment, as Azula raised her hand instinctively. This time she couldn't conceal her reaction, for she didn't even remember to… no, not when faced with a gift as meaningful as this one. Her finger reached out, slowly, towards the strings that her cousin had once plucked, for her and her brother… for her father and her mother, just as well.

Her finger touched the string, and its sound was as weak and faint as her own voice felt these days. As far as she could guess, they couldn't be the same strings Lu Ten had plucked so many years ago, they would no longer deliver proper sound if they were… yet the mere touch upon that instrument brought back the memories so powerfully she almost felt as though Lu Ten sat before her, offering his own guzheng to her, with that kindly smile that ever spread across his features.

"Lu Ten… he always carried it with him. Or he had someone carrying it for him, sometimes," Tiang explained, with a gentle smile. "At nights, at camp, he'd always play it for everyone. Those nights… they were lively enough that we'd forget who we were, and what we were supposed to be doing. It felt like a whole army could crumble over the sound of his guzheng, for we weren't soldiers while we heard those tunes… we were simply men, friends, dancing under the moonlight to the most beautiful melodies he could perform. I kept it after he died, even if I didn't know how to play it. I thought… perhaps I shouldn't play it myself at all, for I could never gift anyone with the melodies he had performed for us. Jin… she encouraged me to try, sometimes. I never had the guts, though… so, instead of leaving it to gather dust back at Ba Sing Se, I thought it best if you could have it. Maybe… maybe I should have given it to you sooner, but I hope it isn't too late now. I… I hope, perhaps, that once you play it yourself, you'll be able to evoke your precious memories of him, with your own music."

Azula's breath caught in her throat: she gazed at the beautiful instrument in utmost awe, finding she had never even coveted it, never wished it for herself, unlike how she had acted with Zuko's treasures. A beautiful guzheng like Lu Ten's… Tiang could have offered no better gift than this one, even if the occasion, in her earnest opinion, did not warrant it in the least. Yet it was one thing… one good, precious thing worth treasuring out of the misery she currently dwelled in, one that, all common sense be damned, she could feel truly grateful for.

"Thank you," she spoke, her voice weak, uncertain.

Tiang, before her, smiled kindly at her… a painful smile, she realized. He had kept this instrument… he had ensured to take proper care of it, even if he hadn't known how to play it himself. Perhaps it wasn't properly tuned… Azula would be able to fix that later. In every other regard, however, the guzheng was perfect… the only bright spot in the darkest day of her life so far.

Memories could be so painful, so overwhelming… but the knowledge that they had happened at all could be soothing. Her cousin, whom she had resented for childish reasons, would no doubt watch over her, from whatever stage of existence he currently lingered in. If only he yet lived… if only he had survived, none of this would be happening now, Azula guessed. She wouldn't have had to marry Zhao… she wouldn't have been tormented by a father whose ambitions would never thrive, not if his nephew still lived. Curses… Iroh might have never taken a second look at her, and that would have meant he'd never have hurt her, either. So much would be different, if only he'd lived…

She wouldn't have known Sokka, if he had.

She gritted her teeth at the thought… as awareness dawned on her, slowly and surely. Her lover had told her to regret nothing of who they were, of what they had meant to each other… no doubt, this is what he'd meant. Yes, a different life could feel appealing… but when the price to be paid might prove so steep, giving up their love and every beautiful memory they'd created together, she knew she could never cling to that thought for a moment longer. No… no regrets. This was the life she had to lead… and she had no choice left but to hope Lu Ten would have been proud, at least, of the woman she had been before. Either way, she intended to honor him through the gift she had only just been granted.

"I will have the guards carry it back to the Palace," Zhao intervened: Azula froze in place, reality dawning on her again immediately. Had her father seen this? He surely had. If so… curses, she'd have to hope he'd still have a shred of decency in his soul, enough to decide that disrespecting Lu Ten's memory wasn't worth it just to continue punishing his daughter.

"Please, make certain they'll be careful," Tiang requested, bowing his head towards Zhao. "It's a delicate instrument."

"You needn't say so twice," Zhao said, breathing deeply as he gestured at Tiang with his chin, urging him wordlessly to close the black case once again. A streak of annoyance crossed the Governor's features. "It's a most meaningful, valuable gift. I thank you as well, Governor Tiang."

"You're most welcome," Tiang said, glancing at Azula again, offering her a small smile. "May it serve you well in the years to come."

"I will endeavor to make it so," Azula whispered, quietly.

Tiang nodded, wishing to say more, anything more, even though the response he'd obtained from Azula was, evidently, the strongest anyone had received from her so far. Yet two guards stepped up to the now closed case of the guzheng, picking it up without waiting for confirmation on their orders. Tiang scowled, no doubt wishing to ensure the delicate instrument wouldn't be harmed by the reckless behavior of guards who saw little value in what they might deem a mere plaything.

"You should take your leave now," Zhao said, nodding at Tiang and Jin, whose brows furrowed at his words: it seemed it didn't sit well with the Admiral to be sidelined while his new bride hogged up their guests' attention.

"As you wish," Tiang chose to say, though he smiled at Azula in that brotherly, kindly manner still. "Have a good evening."

Still no sign of any congratulations for the wedding. Had the situation been any less tense, Azula might have actually smiled at Tiang's bold, underlying insult at Zhao… at Ozai, even. Chances were, of all present noblemen, none were at less risk of losing their jobs over any trespasses than he was… the effective leader of Ba Sing Se, capable of managing the city better than many Earth Kings had, couldn't easily be replaced. If someone could get away with speaking out in Azula's benefit, standing up for her without offering her new husband any form of acknowledgement, it was him.

Zhao's light displeasure didn't affect Azula directly, so far: the man merely moved on to the next guests, whom Azula regarded with very little interest once more, merely bowing her head lightly in acknowledgement. They seemed to assume her responsiveness to Tiang's gesture meant she was ready to speak to others, to react to their gifts… they were mistaken if so, albeit her heart certainly felt lighter for now. In the end, whether Zhao or her father liked it or not, at least a few of the highly ranked officers in the Fire Nation held her in high esteem… and that might not suffice in its entirety, but it eased her burdens slightly, since Tiang had to be untouchable. The Fire Lord would never harm him just to have his way, as he was too valuable, politically…

The sound of pouring liquid beside her startled Azula out of her daze when the latest two guests walked away. Her eyes narrowed, as her heart drummed more urgently in her chest: Zhao had poured water for himself.

Water.

"You don't wish… to drink something stronger?" Azula asked, unsure of how to speak without arousing suspicion… though she probably had done exactly that by speaking suddenly of something Zhao would deem as mundane as his choice in drinks.

He shook his head, though, raising the bottle of water in her direction.

"Not particularly. Do you wish for water as well?"

"I… could pour it for you, if you wish for something else," Azula said, bitterly, hating even uttering the words… but it was needed. If this was how she'd get it done, no matter how much of a bootlicker she might have to be, she'd do it. It was the last stage of today's plan, the only thing she needed to do other than sitting here like a lifeless doll…

"I don't have any intentions of drinking wine tonight," Zhao said, cuttingly.

Azula froze in place. Her blood seemed to curdle inside her body as she slowly took in the meaning of his words. No drinking? She certainly didn't wish to do so, it was ill-advised for anyone with child, she didn't need to ask Mai or the Head Sage to know as much… but if Zhao didn't do it, how would she pull off the deceit? How could she possibly pass the child as his, other than by…?

She shuddered. She felt the bile rising, and she forced it back down, immediately.

No. She'd find a way. Perhaps, when someone else brought a gift comprised of a bottle of some special vintage of wine, she'd ask the guest to sample it, along with her husband. Then, Zhao wouldn't have a choice… but he would be wary. He would find her keenness on getting him to drink suspicious, of course he would, and then…

Oh, hell. Curse everything, by a thousandfold. Curse the damn man sitting beside her for always making the very worst choices he possibly could, the last choices she ever wanted him to make…

He could change his mind, maybe, all on his own. Maybe, as the night went by, someone would offer him a drink, and he'd have no choice but to accept it. But Azula's hands were tied, had been for weeks now, with her back against a wall, and with only one way out… if that could even be called a way out.

She shut down again… she couldn't help it. Whatever shred of relief and gratefulness she'd experienced from Tiang's gift, whatever motivation to do right by someone else as Kori had elicited in her… all of it was gone now that her vision had drifted towards the near future. Towards the night that awaited her, once the feast ended…

More guests would step up to offer gifts… none dared do what Azula hoped they might. The tension in what should have been a day of revelry, a grand celebration of a matrimony long-awaited by the city that loved their Princess, could not be deflated, not with so many soldiers watching over every guest, over the hosts, over each sage… even by those who still stood by the temple's every entrance, flanking them and scaring away every lurker, to varying degrees of success.

"I know I'm not a guest, but I am a member of our Armed Forces, have been for years. I'm a commanding officer, so… can't you at the very least bring the Princess our best wishes?"

The Imperial Guard by the long staircase glared at Mei Xun, and she didn't need him to remove his helmet to sense his irritation. Her poorly contained rage and frustrations almost got the better of her – she'd be a fool if she attacked the man, although she had the feeling she could take him on, especially if she struck him by surprise. Nothing she'd said so far had changed his mind… and nothing she said next would, as far as she could tell.

"The Fire Lord's explicit orders were to ensure that anyone who isn't within the guest list won't enter the Temple's premises today, and I will be damned if I don't fulfill them," the man hissed. "I don't care if you're the Captain of the Enforcers: you're turning tail with your little girls and walking away, or maybe you won't be Captain of the Enforcers for much longer."

Were they in any different circumstances, the threat would be utterly futile, hollow… but after everything that had transpired over the past weeks, Mei Xun couldn't call the man's bluff. It probably wasn't one, to begin with.

She snarled, shaking her head before turning around: behind her waited Sae, her Lieutenant, and Sergeant Daiki, both of whom had insisted on coming with her when she announced she'd attempt to speak to the Princess after the wedding ceremony was finished. Evidently, all hopes to be treated with the respect her rank warranted her had been pointless.

"Nothing?" Daiki asked, grimacing.

"As far as that piece of shit is concerned, we're worthless," Mei Xun said, disregarding all propriety, furious as she felt. "I always had the feeling the Enforcers would be looked down upon by the other branches eventually, but… I guess the Princess's support kept us from feeling it until now."

Both her companions seemed downcast at her words: they had noticed the changes just as much as Mei Xun had. Domestic Forces, old allies, friendly as they had been with the Enforcers for as long as the group had existed, seemed wary of them nowadays. The Palace's guards outright disdained them… the Imperial ones, even more so. It was ironic, in the case of the latter… for their great General, Shaofeng, was set to take over the Princess's duties as commanding officer of the Enforcers. That bit of news had taken everyone at headquarters by surprise, and Mei Xun had hoped to set things right… to find the Fire Lord and make him understand they intended to serve under Princess Azula, no matter if she was married to Admiral Zhao now…

Curses, but just that thought made Mei Xun want to punch something, hard.

She had little trouble guessing what had happened. Most Enforcers, she thought, had already reached the same conclusion. It wasn't chance that the Arena had burned down, that the Princess had vanished, that she'd suddenly returned and married the Fire Lord's top confidante, and that Instructor Sokka hadn't been seen in the city for as long as all these catastrophes had begun. Mei Xun certainly had read more than enough romantic novels to know exactly what was likely to have taken place, even if she had no idea how, or why… or why now.

"We really won't be able to see her?" Sae asked, gazing at Mei Xun hopelessly. The young woman's old crush on Sokka seemed to have faded quickly upon catching onto the common theory, frequently debated by the Enforcers, that the gladiator had a much closer relationship with the Princess than they were bound to admit. He had told her, after all, that he wasn't available, and that explained why… and Sae was certain that he and the Princess didn't deserve any of the horrors that appeared to have taken place so mysteriously all across the Fire Nation as of late. "Do you think, maybe… we could get one of the earthbending recruits to help us break in?"

"We'd only make everything worse," Mei Xun said, shaking her head. "And we'll cause her more trouble than we're worth. As far as I can tell… the Fire Lord's furious. If she makes any mistakes, or anyone else does and he can pin them on her, Prince Zuko's Agni Kai will pale next to the nightmares he'll inflict on her. I know you want to help her… I do too, Sae. But this… it's bigger than us. Much bigger than the Enforcers, evidently."

Sae lowered her gaze, and Sergeant Daiki placed a hand on her shoulder. The lean man was no less distraught than his companion, but he seemed even less creative about whatever solutions they could come up with than Sae was. Mei Xun's direct approach had failed too… and it hardly seemed like anything else would work.

"Do you think there's any chance the Fire Lord will let her continue to work with us?" Sae asked, sadly. "If… if we request an audience…"

"He's not taking audiences as of late," Daiki said, softly. Sae gritted her teeth.

"There has to be something… anything we can do," she said, gazing at him hopelessly.

"Right now?" Mei Xun whispered, glancing back at the Temple, her brow furrowed. "I'm afraid all we can do is wait. Maybe… maybe in a few months, when things cool down…"

"The General of the Guards will have taken over by then, though," Sae frowned. "If he has enough time to get comfortable as our commanding officer…"

"If we give him that time, he may grow complacent. A man with that many titles and responsibilities will struggle juggling them all," Mei Xun said, breathing deeply as she turned towards her companions. "At least… it's what I hope for. It's next to no hope, I know that, Sae… but we have to see beyond ourselves. To anticipate to the future and be ready to adapt to it. The way she would."

Sae gritted her teeth but nodded in compliant surrender. Mei Xun took a deep breath, casting one more glance at the Temple, hoping she wasn't making a terrible mistake. Hoping they weren't turning tail and leaving when the Princess needed them the most… but how could they ever do anything for her? What could they possibly achieve at this point, when she had already been roped into an unwanted marriage with the most convenient suitor for her father?

Wishful as it was, Mei Xun could only let herself imagine Sokka rushing in, wearing his blue-black armor, sword in tow, prepared to fight to the bitter end to defend the Princess's honor… she could only imagine the Princess might long for the same thing. It was hard to imagine the man wouldn't outright rush to his death if need be, just to save her…

But if this was happening at all, it was because the Princess's protector wasn't here anymore. She should not be helpless without him, evidently… but the Fire Lord clearly had played his cards right. If he hadn't, he would have never trapped the Princess… he would have never gotten away with setting up a match she'd never want.

It was done, however… it was long over now. And the Enforcers weren't welcome anywhere in the Princess's vicinity. Mei Xun could only hope one day that would change for the better, once more. Until then…

"Let's go back, then," she said, shaking her head at the Sergeant and the Lieutenant. "No point in sticking around. Hell knows if we'll cause her further trouble otherwise."

Remorsefully, Sae and Daiki followed Mei Xun back into the city, where they'd find carriages to take them all the way to the Enforcers' headquarters. There was no telling how long it'd be before they had a chance to act, to meet the Princess and reinstate her as the leader of the group she had built from scratch… in fact, there was no telling if they'd have that opportunity at all. They could only hope so… and hope was the most fragile, brittle thing anyone could dare cling to in Ozai's Fire Nation.

---

Hours drifted by. Darkness settled. Silence reigned in the daunting hallways of the Fire Nation Palace. Weddings usually saw revelry almost until dawn, especially those of members of high society – occasionally, the wild celebrations could be held across days, even.

Not that day, though. On that day, the Palace felt like a mausoleum, and Azula, sitting on the edge of her bed, felt like she belonged in one, too.

She had waited for many hours. Anxiety wracked her terrified body, nerves doing away with her strength of mind, of which she already had very little left. It had been bad enough as it was… she had been through so much strife, and somehow, there was still more left ahead. Still more, and she couldn't take it. More thoughts of death coursed through her mind, now more than ever, and even Xin Long's occasional, mournful thoughts, attempting to soothe her, couldn't succeed in calming her.

He hadn't had more drinks over the rest of the celebration. No, Zhao had been sober and upstanding, through and through. By the time they had been told to retire, Zhao had urged her to go ahead first… and she had done as much, knowing the next stage was inevitable, her heart faint and weak…

She wouldn't be able to shrug off the traditional consummation of the marriage. She couldn't reject it now. If she did, all would be lost. Her father might even kill her, outright, in a bout of frantic rage, knowing she had not only given herself to a man he'd never accept, but that the next heir for the throne would be that very man's child… he might force her to abort, he might lose his temper to such an extent she would burn under his flames, just as the executed gladiators had, right before her eyes.

It was wrong for those thoughts to sound appealing, but there was no way she could accept them, not anymore. Not when she lived for someone other than herself, at this point.

The child was blameless. The child was innocent. Whatever she did to keep it safe… it was her fault, not the child's. Never the child's…

The door creaked open. She nearly jumped to her feet. Anxious, frightened… hopeless.

"You're still awake?" Zhao asked, grimacing as he stepped inside the room. "You could have turned in already and cleaned up, too. I suppose you took off the headdress, at least… must be a weight off your head, not quite your shoulders, but still…"

Azula didn't answer to his conversational tone: was he truly surprised to find she was awake? Her whole body felt weak, appalled by Zhao's very presence, no matter if he kept his distance from her so far, shrugging off his boots in a surprisingly casual manner.

"Go on, then" Zhao said, gesturing at Azula's private bathroom "Get cleaned up. I can send for servants if you need to…"

"What are you doing?" she asked, point-blank. Zhao, busy undoing the fastening of his groom's attire, glanced at Azula with just as much confusion as she did.

"I… intend to change for bed. As should you," he said, simply. "I understand your apprehension about my being here now, but it is my understanding that you are no stranger to the notion of sharing your sleeping area with a man. You needn't worry, I'll keep my distance…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Azula asked, shuddering violently. Zhao sighed, shaking his head.

"What do you think it means?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "Azula… you are beautiful. If I were twenty years younger than I am, you'd likely have knocked out my teeth by now because I might have just thrown myself at you without thinking twice about whether you wanted me or not. I have no qualms with admitting that truth. But part of the truth is also that… however beautiful you may be, I've never considered doing to you what is expected of a husband and his wife on their wedding night. You, as we know, are no longer a virgin, so there's no evidence to be had about our alleged first night together: we can pretend it happened, if asked, but…"

"No!"

Zhao's hands, rising back to undo his vest, dropped on either side of his body again. His brow furrowed as he stared at the horrorstruck Princess, who rose to her feet and stepped around the bed, towards him. Her eyes had never seemed so fearful, not in Zhao's presence.

"No?" he asked again, puzzled. "No what? You don't wish to even pretend it was done? What are you intending to do, then, kill me where I stand, or…?"

"I… I won't do that. But we… we can't lie about this," Azula said, shivering violently. Zhao raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"You, of all people, unwilling to lie?" he asked. "You've lied to your father for years now…"

"And look where that's landed me," she hissed, glaring at him furiously.

"I understand your fears and apprehension, and I share no shortage of them myself… Ozai is quite unhinged of late, it's true, but he won't be any less unhinged solely if we consummate a marriage neither of us wanted in the first place," Zhao said, waving a hand towards the bed dismissively. "You don't want this, Azula. I don't want this. I never wished for a wife, and I certainly never thought that, if I ever took one, it'd be you. As paranoid as you may be about Ozai…"

"You think he can't know?" Azula asked, and her tone cut across Zhao's confident rambling immediately. "You think he doesn't have means to find out, to spy on our every move and choice? You truly underestimate him to this extent, after what he's burdened you with? After everything he's done to you, to punish you for whatever you've done to displease him?"

"That… there's no way anyone can know what happens in the alcove of a man and a woman," Zhao said, scowling. "I'd even considered finding a room of my own, if this made you too uncomfortable…"

"No… not now, at least, not yet," Azula hissed, gritting her teeth and shaking her head. "Damn it, Zhao…"

"I don't understand you," he admitted, perplexed. "I'm doing this to spare you the discomfort, the disgust… but it's as though you want to suffer more than you already have? You don't need to do this, not in the least, so…"

"Do you really think you know him that well?" Azula said, looking at him pointedly. "That he's shared all his secrets with you? That, as you're his best friend, he trusts you more than anyone and wouldn't do anything to jeopardize your bond?"

"That's…" Zhao frowned, as Azula breathed deeply.

"If so… does the word Seethus mean anything to you?" she asked.

Zhao's utter perplexity answered her question on its own. She grimaced, shivering violently, shaking her head.

"He'd have means to find out, to see through everything. You think I'm losing my mind for saying this, well, maybe I am," she said, nearly stumbling as she brought her hands to her head. "But he'll know. And if you don't do it, if we don't… i-if we don't consummate this marriage… You were there, damn you. You heard him yourself. What's expected of me, of us, is…"

"A new heir?" Zhao finished, his eyes widening. Azula shuddered even more violently than before. "Azula…"

"That's all it takes… that's all I need to do. The only way he'll stop," she said, gripping her hair in frustration – it was already in chaotic disarray, after she'd gotten rid of all the atrocious ornaments. "If he gains any reason to believe you didn't do your duty, whether because I pushed you away or because you decided to play the gallant hero, he will strike. My dragon… my friends, no one will be safe. He'll use them, every damn time he can, to force me into whatever role he wants for me…! And I can't stop him, I can't… not unless I comply. Not unless I give him exactly what he wants. If I do… he'll back off eventually. He'll get tired… he'll get bored. He'll toss me aside, once he's done with me… and only then will I be free again, if just…"

If just to die, without bringing the child with her. Once she ensured Xin Long's freedom, once the baby was born… she could do it then. She could make it stop… she could let everything end, once she had nothing else to live for.

Zhao scowled prominently at her… though a hint of fear sprung in his eyes after her words. Azula gritted her teeth, almost pleading with him by then.

"I can't risk his wrath anymore…" she said. "I can't let him hurt anyone else. If someone's to get hurt, it should be me… but it won't be. He's made that clear. So… I'm stuck. I can't do anything other than what he wants…"

"It's hard to believe he's broken you to this extent," Zhao said, and as much as his voice suggested suspicion, there was still a hint of compassion in his gaze. Azula, however, only registered the former.

"Is it, really?" Azula asked. Suddenly, her outrage, her fury and wrath, seemed to take control upon hearing the man's careless words. "You think losing everything's easy, then? That I've enjoyed it, perhaps? That seeing that hairpiece on your head lightens my heart's load, somehow?"

Zhao flinched: he had nearly forgotten the Crown Prince's hairpiece lingered where it was. The Princess, evidently, had not.

"Everything that mattered to me is gone," she hissed. "I have nothing. My father saw to it. And I'm not stupid enough to think he'll stop anytime soon. So please, damn you… even if just for my sake, just because I'm paranoid, and a coward, and whatever lowly things you think of me now…!"

"You're forcing yourself to do something you don't want," Zhao growled, shaking his head. "Sex… you know, as well as I do, that it won't work that way. Are you…?"

Was she trying to punish herself through him? He couldn't finish uttering the sentence, as Azula gritted her teeth and lowered her head. Maybe she was… maybe that was where all this came from. Instead of accepting his gesture of kindness, she rejected it… because she wanted to inflict further pain upon herself, in the desperate hope that Ozai would finally have enough. He wouldn't call her a coward, truth be told… but if her actions were truly led by fear of her father, she was scarcely the woman she had been ever since Zhao returned to the Fire Nation. Not much of that Azula remained now, if anything did…

"All we need… is a damn heir. A child," Azula spat out, gritting her teeth. "If… if you do this now, if it works today, then we'll be free from having to… t-to do this ever again. If it doesn't… then we will have to try again, in a month. One time… then we wait, until it works. It's simple, straightforward, and…"

"And it's the last damn thing you want. Isn't it?" Zhao hissed.

"Do you truly believe I still have the luxury to do whatever I want?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. "That I can do as I please, to no consequences? Not even you have that luxury anymore, no matter if you're Crown Prince. Or is it you know of any other way my father's lust for blood and for inflicting pain will be sated at last? Do you? Because as far as I've been able to tell… it won't be. Not until he's sure I'm never crossing him again."

"I'm afraid he's not likely to ever believe that," Zhao said, frowning slightly. "Whatever your intentions for the future may be… he won't ever trust you the way he used to."

"I don't expect he would either," Azula said, gritting her teeth. "I just… I just want him to stop. The more I fight back, the worse he gets… so I don't want to do that anymore. I've stopped doing it and I don't intend to start again now. So please…"

"You do understand what you're asking of me?" Zhao said, breathing deeply as he placed his hands on his hips. "What's your plan, to imagine I'm him, maybe? To close your eyes and wait for it to end? You think that I, as a man, would simply jump at the chance of sticking my dick into anyone willing to take it?"

Azula trembled, lowering her head. Yes, frankly, she had thought so. She had expected as much, simply because she had thought, believed, that Zhao feared her father, at least, to a fault…

What other choice did she have, though? Telling Zhao the truth… it was beside the question. He had helped her once, yes, he had understood her bond with Sokka, apparently, and he had intended to respect it. He had kept his silence, he hadn't revealed the truth to Ozai… but then his gladiator had been burned to death. To this moment, Azula didn't know what Ozai had put him through while she was at sea, not truly. The way he looked at her now… it was the same way he had looked at her when he retrieved her near Whaletail Island. He was wary of her… he had every reason to be. Her intentions weren't pure… she wasn't offering this out of selflessness of any kind: there was already an heir to the Royal Family on its way, and she needed to trick him, and everyone else, into believing he was the father.

How to persuade him, though? How…? She felt too weak to try anymore. Standing where she did, tears burned in her eyes once more, tears she couldn't hold back… tears she'd never show to a man like Zhao, under any circumstances. If he hadn't listened to anything she'd said so far… if he already had suspicions that she had an ulterior motive, too, then…

Everything was lost.

She would be caught in her schemes, and she would be forced to lose the child. Xin Long would follow, for sure. Her friends might be next.

A sob shook her, one she couldn't suppress, as the desperation clawed at her, greedily taking root in her heart and spreading out throughout her veins, immediately. She wouldn't protect anyone if she couldn't do this now, she wouldn't keep anyone safe, none of the people she had tried to shield from her father's nefarious, nightmarish choices…

"Azula…"

She wanted to pull away upon hearing him call her name. When she felt his hands on her shoulders she flinched, instinctively. It didn't stop him, however, from pulling her closer, wrapping her in a kinder embrace than she had expected from her father's second-in-command.

"N-no… d-don't, I…" she sobbed, gritting her teeth. "I don't deserve… please, don't…"

She couldn't seem to utter a full sentence, distraught and destroyed by every unwanted emotion ravaging her soul. Fear, panic, horror and grief warred over her heart, squeezing out every other emotion… and as outrageous as it was to break out in tears in front of a man she had once deemed her greatest rival, someone she had to defeat, she had lost control of her body entirely. Never before had she felt so lost, so broken… never before had she stood at the precipice of truly losing everything the way she did now. She had to find a way to keep this child alive… but the odds worsened by the minute. She didn't want compassion: she wanted help. But she couldn't say it… she couldn't tell him the truth. She couldn't trust him any more than Zhao trusted her, even now…

He sighed, patting her back kindly, rubbing circles with his palms between her shoulder blades. Slowly, he lowered his head… and he took in the scent of her hair, washed thoroughly, enhanced with whatever fragrant oils the servants had poured on it.

In many ways, he couldn't shake off the awareness of who she was: he remembered her childish grins from twenty years ago just fine, her chaotic streak as she got her brother in trouble with their father by tricking him with clever schemes… he remembered the young girl speaking out in war meetings with pride and confidence that no one had expected from the child Princess. He had thought of her as a girl… then, upon returning home from the North Pole, she had become a woman. Her beauty, her growth, had certainly taken him by surprise when he saw her for the first time in so long… but he had forced himself to set aside whatever instinctive admiration he might have held, clinging again to the thoughts and awareness of who she was: her father's loyal daughter, too clever for her own good, but a child in his eyes, nonetheless…

Her body against him now, however, reminded him that she was no longer that much of a child. She was well of age… twenty-four years, soon to be twenty-five. If he simply shut his mind out, just for a moment… if he let himself forget who she truly was, deliberately losing focus to deliver what she sought, would she finally be at peace? If just for one moment…?

He was no fool. He knew she had never intended to share herself with him this way… she may have been a woman, but she was still young enough to believe blindly in love, blindly enough that said belief had landed her where she stood now, wilting in tears while trembling violently at the prospect of the dark future that would await her if she displeased her father any further. A woman who'd take a leap of faith like the one Zhao had directly witnessed that day, when she had jumped off the sponsors' balcony and reached for her gladiator, could never be persuaded, not without good reason, that she'd ever love again. That she could find happiness, even a shred of it, with anyone but that very man. If she weren't half as devoted to him, if it had been the careless misdeeds of a foolish young woman testing the waters of romance without any true commitment, he wouldn't have minded as much. But he knew she loved the gladiator… and he had loved her, just as much.

For the first time in weeks, Zhao let himself think of Sokka as something other than a dangerous man, far more dangerous than he let on: for the first time since it had happened, their encounter in prison returned to his mind. And with it… the memory of a promise he had made to the broken, hopeless warrior who wanted for nothing but the safety, the wellbeing, of the woman he loved:

"Be kind to her. Please… be patient. She will be in pain for a long time… she will lash out, hurt others, but it's only because she will be hurting and won't know what else to do. Give her time. Let her grieve… and then help her move forward."

Zhao's lips parted, as though to say something… unsure, suddenly, of what he was doing. Those words… he had promised, hadn't he? He'd accepted that vow, thoughtlessly, carelessly…

"Promise me you'll do right by her. That you'll protect her from Ozai's fury as best you can… promise to give her space for as long as she needs it. To… t-to find a way to bring a smile to her face once again, even if her heart is broken. To give her reasons to live on, because… because she may lose sight of how valuable, how important she is, how much she can change the world for the better. Listen to her… respect her. Bear… bear with your own pain, as best you can, for her sake."

He had sworn that vow to a man who had been staring in the face of death, and still had no requests for his remains to be sent to his people, for his keepsakes to be left to the woman he loved… no, he had not thought of himself, not once, at that moment. All he'd asked for was the hope that she would be able to live on without him… and right now, she was doing a rather dreadful job of that. She didn't need to voice all her thoughts… Zhao could tell, by the frequent vacancy in her eyes, by her constant unwillingness to so much as climb off her bed, that she didn't wish to live on at all. That she only did for the sake of those who depended on her, those who cared for her… those she still could protect by taking her father's figurative lashes on her back.

She longed for death. And as much as he could have told her to snap out of it, it didn't seem he'd keep true to the promise he'd made to Sokka, if he acted that way.

He gritted his teeth, pushing Azula away, but only slightly. She lowered her head, and he forced her to raise it, against her will.

"Don't… d-don't look at me," she managed to say, knowing the request to be foolish, pointless. There was nothing to hide from Zhao… no scrap of dignity left she could still salvage. Nothing could be done. Nothing…

"You will always love him. Won't you?" Zhao asked. Azula shuddered in his arms, teeth clenched. "Our marriage… it is one of convenience. Arranged… forced may even be the proper term. I… would hold back to respect your former ties. I intended to. But…"

Azula's sprawling, surging spiral of misery suddenly slowed when Zhao's fingers brushed disorderly strands of hair from her face. Her stomach sank with an immediate, instinctive rejection, visceral and powerful: only Sokka was allowed to touch her that way. Only he could hold her as she cried. Only Sokka…

Sokka was gone.

Sokka wasn't coming back.

Sokka deserved better than the hollow woman she had become.

She raised her head, unsteady, fearful. Zhao, no doubt, recognized that fear. He breathed deeply taking her face in his hands, and again Azula shuddered involuntarily, as though she were close to being sick because of him… but she didn't pull away. No… she forced herself to stay put. She had to do this. For the child, for Xin Long, for everyone her father might still hurt…

"As there will never be love between us… it makes no sense to delay this, does it?" Zhao asked. Azula almost whimpered, snarling at his words. "Perhaps… I'm being a sentimental fool now, despite everything. I… I do wish to do right by you, and this may be the only way to do so, if it will keep you out of your father's warpath. If… if conceiving a child will give you something to live for."

He was right about that, of course. He simply didn't know a child had already been conceived, hell knew when.

"Please…" Azula said, gritting her teeth as she closed her eyes. "Just… just do it. Please…"

Zhao breathed deeply, pressing his brow to hers. Again, the wrongness of it threatened to break her, but she didn't move, not beyond her violent shaking.

"I won't punish you," Zhao announced, softly. "I can't do that to you. If that's what you're looking for… then I'm sorry. It won't work that way. So… if we do this, it shall be on my terms."

Azula nearly shook her head. She nearly shrieked, demanding he did exactly what he refused to… but she couldn't do so. Maybe her desperation for punishment had reached its end… maybe she couldn't take any more of it. Maybe one day, she'd be grateful to Zhao for whatever kindness he'd showed her when she had wanted none…

For helping her save her child, unbeknownst to him, at least until it was born.

She nodded, weakly.

A surrender, like so many others she had offered across the past days. How she hated to submit, to set aside her impulse to fight for her freedom, for her dignity… but how to fight for what she had already lost and would never regain?

Zhao leaned in, and she closed her eyes tighter still.

---

The Fire Lord slept sparsely these days. Dreams of fire catching up to him, burning him to cinders, under the control of a man who had never been born to tame fire, and yet had learned how to do so, would force him awake in a blinding fit of fury.

Thoughts of the Gladiator had plagued him for as long as this mess had begun… but most of all, across this last week. Even now that Azula had given up, that she had failed to fight back against Ozai's designs, that wretched man's actions still shook Ozai profoundly. What he was capable of amounted to madness… of feats no one of his lowly birth should ever achieve. That his own daughter had been swayed, that she had lost her way because of him… it was revolting, and yet it was the undeniable truth.

Now that she was broken, though… now that the larger hurdle had been dealt with, it was said man's turn to face his doom.

Seethus sat in the corner of Ozai's study, as he often did: the wrecked furniture had been replaced, though it seemed the Fire Lord intended to shatter his new desk under the power of the sharp, small blades he'd used to mark locations on a map of their world, spread over the mahogany board.

"Will you require me to join this mission?" Seethus asked, quietly. Ozai huffed.

"I have told you… I need you by my side," he hissed. "You won't be necessary for this operation. We have enough forces to spare for it."

Just so, footsteps echoed down the hallway: Seethus melded with the air, it seemed, instants before the door swung open with a careless, forceful shove.

"What do you want? I'm busy," Ozai spat at Shaofeng who reacted in no visible manner as he stepped up towards him.

"I can see that. Stabbing your desk," the General of the Guards retorted, stepping up carefully. "I merely intended to confirm that you were finally satisfied after today's spectacle… I see, however, that you're already plotting your next ventures?"

"If you've merely come here to judge my choices, perhaps you can make yourself useful yet," Ozai hissed, reaching for a scroll he'd set down, to his left.

After spreading it one more time, he dipped his royal seal in ink before stamping it on his latest orders. Once it was dry, he rolled the scroll back into place, handing it to Shaofeng, who took it delicately.

"Find a messenger. Have them deliver these orders to the Naval Coordination and Communication Office," Ozai said, frowning heavily. "At once."

"Finally?" the Imperial Guard asked. Ozai nodded. "May you rest at ease from now on, then, knowing that scum will be destroyed…"

"I won't be at ease until I've spat on his corpse," Ozai growled, tightening his fists over the desk. "But I may have that chance yet. And even if I don't… the South Pole will be destroyed."

Shaofeng nodded, curtly. He retired without another word, carrying the message in his hands, leaving behind a haggard, still wrathful Fire Lord, who would not be sated with anything short of an absolute, lethal victory over the Gladiator, the man who, by all effects, had become his most despised enemy.

A/N:

So… arc 2 of Part 3 ends here. There's still hardships ahead, but as empty a promise as it may sound now, Part 3 actually starts to kick into full-blown action in the next arc. I feel the urge to offer a small hint to those who may need it over what's coming, since I suspect it's easy to feel quite depressed over how things have turned out so far… (stop reading here if you're an anti-spoiler reader, of course)

Sokka's healing journey will continue, but as may be obvious by this chapter's final scene, the Water Tribe's peaceful days won't go on forever. A lot of action awaits our Blue Wolf in the future, especially once he makes up his mind about how he will make use of this chance to live on that Azula has granted to him. His placid, easygoing days will end soon, and not in the darkest of notes, even if not in the most cheerful way, either…

As for Azula, her plans, however painful as they may have been, will bear fruit in time. Before they do, a new-ish character will become part of her life and that will lighten up her story slightly, at last. By the end of arc 3, a long-time character will begin to make a comeback in Azula's storyline, providing her with a steadfast, wholehearted ally she can trust completely… for it's someone she has known and trusted for a long time already.

Therefore… the real meat and content of Part 3 lies ahead. The starting point was going to be painful, hence my many warnings so far… but things will be moving forward in both storylines and while we still will have some dark moments, there will be better narrative counterweights to that darkness in the upcoming chapters.

Anyway… I'm sorry for the sorrow. I hope the story's upcoming chapters will be much easier for all of you to bear with, and even enjoy, than the ones we've seen as of late.