Chapter 19: Complex

Any hope for peace and quiet after Zuko's coronation vanishes quickly. With Zuko officially named Fire Lord, resistance peeks boldly from the horizon. Families of high standing members of Fire Nation society approach with their discontent. Master Lee ever the perfectionist, takes it all in as a motivator to keep the palace spotless, much of it to Souta's displeasure. To reiterate his words, "the man is a slave driver, Aang! If I have to check the position of that plant again, I'm going to loose my mind!"

Personally, I would prefer plant duty over listening to another general attempt to dig their own grave. Zuko denies having anything to do with it, but the last person that made a snide comment had his robes catch fire. We watched the fire slowly burn away the cloth of his robes until he disappeared from the throne room. A panicked scream echoing from a distance.

"Why would he say something like that?"

Zuko's glare becomes more intense. I start to play with my red sash. The governor had somewhat bruskly pointed out that Zuko's ability to rule over the nation had yet to be seen. Zuko had seemed mildly annoyed, but not entirely bothered. It's was more what he said next.

"It is most impressive, your majesty. Firelord at seventeen years old. Barely just reached betrothal age. Still, considering the circumstance, I suspect you must already be in search for the one to produce you an heir. It would be foolish not to be. Perhaps I could introduce you to my daughter? I understand you may have political preferences . . . But I can assure you, my daughter would make an excellent Fire Lady."

"Because its true." He sighs and motions me to follow him out into the hall. His steps are measured and his back is rod straight. I find my own body mimicking the stance. Softly, he says, "If I were to be killed tomorrow, it would make a mess to the royal linage of the Fire Nation. Generally, to avoid the conflict, one of the duties of the heir to the throne is to produce children. There must be someone to take the throne if I die."

If Zuko were to die, then who would become Fire Lord? His uncle?

"My uncle is the only royal left, but after him . . ."

My stomach tightens. Iroh would need to have children—heirs. I don't even know if he could. And even if he did, were he to pass suddenly of age . . . His heir would have no one to guide him—no one that understood the responsibilities on an intimate level.

Like Katara being the last waterbender in the South Pole. Except, this hypothetical heir would have advisors, Katara had no one to help her. Even with the scrolls we stole from the pirates, she struggled to learn the techniques.

Zuko smirks, golden eyes twinkling teasingly, "It's not as urgent as that man made it seem. I don't plan on dying anytime soon. It's just another thing to think about."

"That's rough, buddy." I say after a beat.

A look of surprise crosses his face. He snorts, "Did Sokka say something to you?"

I shake my head. About having babies? Is that what they talk about? I raise a brow. He waves his hand awkwardly, "Nevermind."

"Do you think about it?" I ask. He meets my gaze when I say, "Having babies."

He freezes and then something akin to panic crosses his face. A blush spreads across his cheeks and very awkwardly, he stumbles with his words, "Do you . . . Are you . . . Or uh . . . Making babies . . . Do you."

My face sudden heats up a couple degrees. "Ahh, Zuko! That not what I meant!"

I'm crossing my arms frantically as he scratches the back of his neck. My voice shakes, "I meant that mak—I mean having— having babies is a two person . . . Ugh, you . . ."

I sag. He crosses his arms. His cheeks are still pink, but he says, "Not really."

We pass his office, the one where he and Iroh spend most of their days going over scrolls, as he talks, "I know it's important, but I don't need to marry tomorrow . . . I'm not marrying someone for political convenience either. Or at least, I don't want to."

"He thinks you are." I point out.

"Mai's family is well off. Her father was the governor of Omashu when it was occupied by the Fire Nation. He was a huge supporter of the war and one of my father's favorites."

Right, Onji also mentioned Mai's uncle was the warden of the Boiling Rock. I suppose that much like Onji's mother wishes to make connections for her daughter, this nobleman wishes the same for his. Zuko has gone serious. Come think of it, with some exception, I did not see much of the Fire Nation's elite at Zuko's coronation. Even at the stiff after party for the members of high society . . . It was a stilted affair, though that could just be the nature of those events. Mai and Zuko stuck together for most of the night. I saw maybe one smile come from her and it faded at the mention of her absent parents. In his letters, Bumi has mentioned he's returned to Omashu. With Omashu out of Fire Nation control, Mai's father has been removed from his position. Zuko really can't catch a break.

"Her father is not jumping for joy about me right now. I tried to work something out, but he . . . Anyway, Mai doesn't say it, but I know that she's struggling. Back when I . . . Uhh . . . You know, killed you-"

"Technically, that was Azula." I respond.

"Technically, everyone thought it was me."

"I don't think that's how you-"

"Ugh! The point is," Zuko pinches his nose, "Back then, my father was pleased with me and in turn Mai's parents were ecstatic to find out we were dating! I was a redeemed prince: money, status, and honor. Now . . ."

"Now, you're the guy that betrayed his father, his nation, and got their daughter sent to prison."

Zuko slouches, in his bulky Fire Lord robes, he makes a pathetic sight.

"Yeah. Pretty much." Zuko moans, "Mai finally had the approval of her parents and she didn't have to do something she hated to get it. Now, she's chosen me, but her parents don't approve. World peace outside of the Fire Nation is not exactly a cause to betray your nation in their eyes."

I shake my head, "You didn't betray your nation."

"I know." He sighs tiredly, "But they see it that way. I don't like putting Mai in a position that's making her have to deal with her parent's disappointment. It's not great."

He's got the scar to prove it. It's strange to think of Ozai as a father, but he wasn't a very good one after all.

"Zuko . . . You know my friend Onji. Her mother keeps trying to set her up with the Boiling Rock's warden's son."

"The girl you danced with at my coronation."

"Yeah." I nod. I stare at the portrait of Zuko's mother he had placed along the halls from his office, "Is that common? For parents to have so many expectations from their children?"

I grew up with monks and while they expected discipline from me, there was also time to play and run around and just be a kid. Or maybe . . . Maybe, it was just Gyatso. My lip trembles. As much as I loved Gyatso, he loved me too. He loved so much he wanted the best for me, not just the world. Me. I look at Zuko. He's frozen ten steps behind me. Words don't come from his mouth, but that's okay. I wasn't expecting an answer.

"Onji's father is not a war supporter. It's prevented him from advancing at his job. I think she said he works for the governor in her home town. Because of that, her mother wants Onji to be with someone that has connections."

We're approaching the sparring room. I open the door as he says, "Someone like you."

I snort, "I don't have money or—"

"Most people wouldn't ask you for money considering you're the Avatar. Savior of the world, and all."

Oh yes, executioner too. Yippee. I roll my eyes, "The point is the guy likes Onji, so she feels forced to just put up with him."

"So she doesn't like him."

I shrug, "Could she? For her mom's sake?"

Gyatso's way of loving me was to let me be a kid. His love made me feel safe and warm. I would have done anything for Gyatso; a hundred years ago, I ran away thinking we would be torn apart and all that would be left for me was endless days of training. Life was already miserable enough since the role of the Avatar was thrust into my hands, without Gyatso it would have been torture. Zuko stares at his boots pensively. Thanks to my friends, even though Gyatso is not here and lately negativity of my own creation sticks to me like a parasite, being the Avatar doesn't have to be all I am.

My hands freeze momentarily midway through taking off my boots.

Zuko sets his boots neatly to the side, "She could end up marrying him for her mother's sake."

My train of thought shifts. Would I do that? Marry someone for someone else's sake? Could I be with someone for the rest of my life for something other than mutual love? I blush, could I make babies with them out of obligation rather than as the result of the consummation of our love?

"Even without being in love?"

"Yes. Marriages of convenience are not uncommon, especially within the royal family."

"You would marry without loving someone?" I can't hold back the disbelief that slips into my tone.

"Not by choice!" Zuko exclaims defensively. "I have a duty to my nation! There must be someone to look after the people of the Fire Nation when I pass! If I could marry for love, I would. It's not always so simple."

"What about Mai?"

Zuko blushes as he pulls his outer robes off, "What is this about?"

Bumi. That's who is at fault. I shrug. Skeptical, he narrows his eyes but does not pry. Stretching, he avoids my eyes as he answers, "I don't think the time is right yet."

I gasp. My excitement comes in strong, "Zuko! You want to marry-"

In three steps, he has a hand over my mouth. Looking around the empty room wildly, he hisses, "Why are you so loud?!"

"Sorry."

A wild thought crosses my mind. I don't think about it when I say, "Would Azula have married if she became Fire Lord?"

Zuko makes a face that reminds me of eating stewed sea prunes. Spirits, how Katara loves them . . . I don't know.

"If my father wanted it, she would," He says carefully. "She was always my father's perfect little princess."

Standing across from him, I have a singular thought as delicate wisps of memory wrap around my heart. Repressed heartbreak throbs as if I were feeling it fresh. Could it be that Azula is just a kid who wanted her father's approval? I consider asking that, but Zuko looks like he's thinking hard.

We bow to each other, I inhale gently letting those emotions shift into bubbling energy. I smile, "Ready, Zuzu?"

Zuko almost lags. Oops, too much Azula on my mind. I shiver. Groaning, he takes a stance, "Ugh, don't call me that. I'm already risking my neck here."

"Come on, Zuko." I bait, "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Last time we had to be LICKED clean." Zuko's mouth twists in disgust, "If Katara bursts in here . . ."

We both shiver. I push Katara thoughts out of mind. "I'm healed and so are you. It's not like we're fighting to the death. Come on, I gotta practice my fire bending! And so do you. So you don't get rusty."

"My fire bending is fine, thank you."

Sparring was actually Iroh's idea. He thinks Zuko needs to blow some steam in preparation for our departure to Ba Sing Se for peace talks. As a show of good faith between the Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe, Hakoda suggested we travel by his ships. With all the caos around here, Zuko's all wound up. I can't say I'm doing much better. Some of the correspondences I've gotten have me tossing and turning at night.

"Plus, it'll help me sleep better." Not a lie.

"When we get caught, it was your idea to start with."

"Yes, Sifu Hotman."

"Don't call me that either!" He throws the first blow. It's a calculated shot. It feels hot, but easy to side step. The room is concealed, but wide enough that our voices somewhat echo. I smirk, "I suppose Sparky is out of the question."

He scowls as well aimed blasts narrowly miss their mark, "Focus, Aang."

I raise my hands in peace, "Okay, okay."

Back and forth we go, throwing flames at each other. As we dodge each other, the room becomes hotter and hotter with every passing minute. There's sweat dripping on my neck. Zuko's hair is slowly falling from his headpiece; I would say at about the same pace his will to continue with this match fades. Flames surrounding us begin to close in drawing us closer. If Zuko hadn't made the fire-bending only rule, I could just jump over the flames or even blow them out. The corner of Zuko's mouth turns upward slightly and his eyes glint triumphantly. I narrow my eyes, sparring with Zuko is different. Katara is fun. Toph is brutal. Sokka is smart. Zuko's intense.

When his hands release the wall of flames circling us, I shoot a burst of fire from my fist. He turns and swiftly blocks the next set I send. He follows it quickly by raising a foot and I bend backwards to avoid the heat that fires from it. Pulling myself back up, he's running at me. I narrowly avoid his right fist to the face by leaning my body to the right. I take his wrist in my hand and pull it behind his back.

"Zuko, for someone hesitant to fight, you're in unfortunate good shape." I manage through gasps.

He hooks an ankle around my mine and pulls, sending the both of us tumbling. I land on my back and his back lands on me. We groan on impact.

"I take it back. You clearly need someone to check your brain."

Zuko slides off me onto the mat. My lungs celebrate cheerfully as air fills them again. Zuko massages his shoulder. Grinning, he turns his head and I turn mine to his. Unapologetically, he replies, "I win."

"Congratulations." I reply sarcastically.

Zuko sighs as peaceful silence falls over us. The gentle ambiance is enhanced by the row of torches dimly illuminating the room along its perimeter. The dark feels a little less consuming and Zuko's presence feels sturdy. I'm nearly snoozing when Zuko's voice pokes the silence, "Aang."

"Yeah."

"I'm tired."

"Me too."

His eyes close. Any residual tension leaves his body. I think we may just end up falling asleep here. Sleep sounds great . . .

Katara

"I needed this." Suki murmurs languidly.

Toph sinks lower into her tub, her satisfied smile just visible amongst rose petals, "I'll say. I can't believe you didn't suggest this sooner, Katara."

The warm water soothes tense muscles I didn't know I had. A servant comes in to add another stone and more water to the stove keeping the royal spa room soothingly warm. Leaning my head back on the tub, the towel carefully wrapped over my wet hair works to cushion my neck in just the right way. Without thinking, I say, "It was Aang's idea."

During Zuko's week long end of the war festivities celebrating his coronation and the return of soldiers, Aang and I spent it all together. We worked during the day, danced the night away, and of course talked just to talk. I'm not entirely sure that we've been getting all that much sleep, but without the war looming over our shoulders . . . I liked it.

Being around Aang has always guaranteed a good time when I think about it. Whether we're talking about our bending or going penguin sledding or dancing, responsibility flies out the window. Aang doesn't expect anything from me other than my company. What's more is that he enjoys it in a way our other friends don't, except maybe Suki. Everyone else finds my concern overbearing and while I don't mind it so much anymore, it does sting sometimes. I'm not trying to ruin their fun, but someone has to be the responsible one.

So then, what makes Aang different? He's the goofiest boy I know. I giggle softly as I recall my own words to Gran Gran: I sense he's filled with much wisdom. I mean, he is. Doesn't show it off often, but Aang is one of the wisest people I know. Too wise for a twelve year old. I blush, too bold too. You're very attractive for a spirit. What was that? I hadn't thought about it, but what was going through his head. Had he figured out it was me already and was just teasing me? If not, then . . . My stomach twists, a familiar ache bubbles in my stomach unpleasantly. What exactly am I feeling?

"You and Aang are pretty close." Suki says casually.

Focusing back on the girls, I smile, "Yeah. He's a lot of fun to be around."

Playing with the petals in the tub, I ask Suki, "Why Sokka?"

"Huh?"

"What do you like about Sokka?" He's my brother, so I think he's gross; but he's also smart, funny, and resourceful. I add to my question, "What do you like so much about Sokka that you guys got together so quickly?"

Toph perks up, "Come think of it, that's a good point. You guys were smooching back in Ba Sing Se, but you didn't see each other for months."

"Woah, okay," Suki raises her hands, "First of all, we had met each other already before then just to be clear."

"Yeah, for like a few days."

"Yes, well . . . It's like this. I liked that he was eager to learn and determined. He was funny and adorable and handsome." Suki blushes. I might throw up actually. She adjusts the towel above her head, "I thought about him a lot after you guys left Kyoshi . . . When I saw you guys again, I couldn't help myself. Toph, you might understand me better than Katara-"

My eyes are wide and even Toph looks shocked by the statement. Suki grins, "You have more self restraint than I could ever dream of Katara."

"Say that to Sokka."

"Sokka doesn't know what he's talking about sometimes," Suki shakes her head. "I wasn't thinking is the truth."

"Wow, thanks Suki." Toph quips sarcastically.

"I didn't mean it like that," Suki says affectionately. "I just mean that I was given the chance to be with Sokka, so I took it."

"Oh."

"That's it?"

"Straightforward, that's nice, I guess." Toph shrugs, her cheeks appear to darken. Her mouth twists, "Ugh, we need to get out of here. I'm starting to feel like a prune."

"Wait. What about the distance and the war and you guys barely knew each other!"

Suki looks sheepish, "Those are perfectly reasonable . . . Reasons . . . Reasons to worry. I just kinda took a leap of faith, crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best."

I furrow my brows.

"Don't think so hard, Katara. Just worry about one thing." I look at her like she's just told me to breathe. She says pointedly, "What do you want?"

What do I want? My chest pounds in uneven beats that tremble with nervousness. What I want isn't important right now.

Suki

Leaving the tub for the relaxing heat of padded chairs and fuzzy blankets is only enhanced by the soothing scent of lavender surrounding the room. If there's one thing to convince me to stay in the Royal Palace, it's this.

"After we stop in Ba Sing Se, I'm going to go visit my parents." Toph declares resolutely.

Surprise at the sudden announcement covers Katara's face, but it quickly turns into a bright smile. "Toph, that's wonderful!"

"Eh, don't get too excited," Toph remarks passively. Her loose hair covers her face as takes a cherry for the bowl left behind for us. Her voice holds a hint of disappointment, "They never answered back the letter we sent them."

On beat, Katara tells her kindly, "It could have gotten lost."

It's totally possible. Toph considers her words. Unconvinced, she whispers, "I thought I hurt them, but maybe they just don't care anymore. They didn't even show up to Zuko's coronation."

"I asked them to come."

Her words are spoken so unlike her, so meek they could be lost to the wind. Katara sets her magazine down. I wave a servant away and try not to mourn the coconuts that she takes with her.

Holding Toph tightly, Katara tells her, "Your parents love you so much they hired people to get you back. I don't know why they aren't here, but I'm sure there's a reason that isn't because they suddenly don't care."

Sokka had once mentioned that Toph's parents are overprotective, so much so that they hid the existence of their daughter believing her too weak and vulnerable. It couldn't be furthest from the truth, but I can't imagine how difficult it would be for them to accept it. When I joined the Kyoshi Warriors, my parents couldn't have been more proud. From the age of eight, I had trained diligently to join the group of honorable woman that protected our island. By the time I became their leader, I had become their most capable warrior. Even with this knowledge, when I announced that we would be departing for the Earth Kingdom to aid the war effort, my parents were inconsolable. With the exception of Aang's presence, our village had been peaceful and safe. To go outside its territory was to leave the comfort of its protection.

They did everything they could think of to stop me: beg, cry, reason, yell . . . My father tried giving me the cold shoulder. My mother tried silence that lasted for a lengthy few days. Yet, when the day came for me to leave, they held me tightly in their arms. Tears in their eyes, they pleaded I be safe.

"Katara's right." I stand on her other side. Squeezing her arm, I share a look with Katara, "Parents do things for strange reasons all the time, but their love doesn't fade. It grows."

Toph grins weakly, "Thanks guys."

Zuko

Aang snored the entire way back to his chambers. Even as I pulled the covers over him, he slept deeply. So lost in sleep, he rolled over onto his stomach, his hands tucked under him and face snuggled into the plush pillow below his head. Uncalled for, a memories jumped to light. As a child, Azula often slept like that. Our mother would coo over her for that. She thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. For a while, I was sure Azula would do it on purpose, but she always denied it.

It's not important, not really. However, my head can't leave it alone. So at a time too late to be considered night, but too early to be considered morning, I stand in front of a plain door. Two guards are stationed in front of it. Bowing, they step aside to let me through. The room is bare with the exception of three objects. There is a desk. There is a chair. There is a bed. Like when we were children, Azula is curled into the bed with her hands under her and a blanket over her. Her face is hollow, but devoid of emotion.

The door burst open abruptly. "Fire Lord, Zuko! I-"

I raise my palm. The man falls silent. I recognize him as the head of this mental institution. I say in a hushed warning, "I do not want to wake her."

The man bows. Carefully, I move to grab the chair by the empty desk. With disbelief, I lift what feels like the weight of an ostrich horse. Setting it down next to Azula's bed, I take a seat. "She's not in a strait jacket."

The man looks like he might pass out. Behind him are a man and a woman in creamy brown robes. The older of the two, the woman, interjects on behalf of the bumbling man, "The princess has shown some improvement in behavior since she attended the funeral. While she is still prone to bouts of histeria, the aggression has diminished. We changed her to this room to give her more freedom of movement, but removed anything that could pose her or our staff danger. That chair is specifically designed to weigh more than its appearance to avoid it being used as a weapon."

"We can put her back in a strait jacket if that is your preference, your majesty." The bumbling man bows. The woman remains stoic, but the man beside her glares at the floor. I narrow my eyes. I'm careful to keep my voice low and harsh, "The princess's well being is your priority. Understood?"

The color drains from his face, "Yes, Firelord Zuko."

"Leave us. I wish to be alone with the princess."

The three bow and exit quietly. I don't miss the lingering looks I get from the pair in medical robes. When the door finally shuts, I sigh in relief. Azula has turned to lay on her back. I nearly jump out of my skin when her eyes snap open. She watches me dispassionately for longer than I should have allowed it. Despite attempting to hide it, my discomfort shines through. Eventually, she huffs. Turning away from me, she asks blankly, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, brother lord?"

Deliberately ignoring her address, I clear my throat. "How are you doing?"

The outline of her fists gripping the blanket gives me pause. Her eyes drill holes into the creamy wall of the room and her voice takes a note of disbelief, "Drop the pretense, Zuko. Don't start acting like you care about me now. What do you want?"

I . . . care. Right? The words don't come out. In the weeks that she's been here, this is the first time I've come to see her. I could give many excuses. Many would be reasonable too. However, the truth is Azula and I have never been close.

"Is that really how you sleep?"

"What?" She turns sharply. Her glare sharply into mine.

"When we were kids." I cross my arms in front of me to mimic what she does. "You would lay on your stomach so mom would fuzz over you."

Her expression becomes more sour despite the underlining confusion in it. I couldn't say what propels me to do it. Maybe, I have a death wish. Maybe, I know her well enough to know that she's not in a vengeful mood. I stand from the chair and begin pushing my way onto the bed.

"What are you-"

"Move over, Lala." I grumble. Her body freezes as the nickname slips thoughtlessly. I had a hard time pronouncing her name when she was born and it stuck because my mother loved it. It's been so long since I called her that.

I fall on my stomach how she had been. l ask again, "Like this? You were doing it on purpose back then."

She blinks and I can see the moment she remembers. She rolls her eyes, "What are you trying to do? If you couldn't fool me when we were kids, why now?"

I scoff, "You were doing this so you could hog mom's attention! Just admit it so I can stop thinking about it."

"Don't you have better things to do with your life than bother your crazy sister, Fire lord." She snarls with increasing anger, "And I didn't hog mom. That was you. Always being so nice. You saved a turtle-duck? How thoughtful of you, Zuko! Always her perfect little prince. Not me though. I was always a disappointment. That's a horrible thing to say, Azula! Apologize! Can't you try to be more considerate, just look at your brother! What is the matter with you, young lady? Why would you use the turtle-ducks as target practice!"

She's now sitting up and looking down at me. Her hair shakes wildly with each sentence. Her eyes burn resentfully. Is that truly how she remembers it? Azula once said she considers herself a monster, what does it matter what our mother thought? She said it hurt, but it seemed like fleeting emotion. Regardless, hearing her call herself a disappointment to our mother is strange. She wasn't. Or, if she was, my mother loved her anyway. Like this, I understand my resentment of Azula less than ever. There is so much I want to ask her, about our father and our mother and our childhood. I don't ask any of it.

"It hurts the turtle-ducks." I sit up.

Her expression falters. I explain to her, "Mom didn't like it when you threw bread at the turtle-ducks because it hurt them."

She stares intently, "So what? It hurts their feelings? Feelings are for the weak, Zuzu. Take what you want at whatever the cost. Didn't dad ever say that to you?"

I shake my head horrified. Her golden eyes watch me expectantly. Did mom not explain this to her? Surely, she did? I climb out of bed. Taking her blanket, I kneel over her, push her back down, and tuck her in like I did Aang. It's strange how quiet she is. It's strange that she lets me. It's strange that I feel . . . Uncomfortable. Her gaze on my back is heavy as I leave.

"If feelings are for the weak, then why are you incapable of dealing with yours?" I whisper the question with my hand on the knob. Even as I close the door behind me, Azula stays uncharacteristically quiet. I once thought having the final say would feel good. I used to fantasize of a day when I would finally leave her speechless. Rather than triumphant, I feel pathetic—like the failure she always accused me of being.

I'm a day late. In my defense, Fanfiction was down! Or at least for me, I could not load the page to save my life. Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Not a lot of Aang and Katara interactions this chapter or Aang angst, but I swear, there is a method to my madness. We are almost getting to the nitty gritty of the story.

Let me know your thoughts! I am going to do my best to get the next chapter out by next week, but if not, I will see you the week after for sure!

Quote of the Chapter

Before I thought beyond myself, everything seemed so simple. Now that I've had the chance to feel in your mind, I realize how foolishly wrong I was.

-Pyrenees