AN: Thank you for all the reviews and encouragement! I wish I was better about one-on-one responses, but every time I try to tackle it, I feel compelled to make every message unique, and to really express my appreciation for the attention people pay to what I've made, for the way folks pick up on nuances that I've labored over. I want to say something meaningful back, because what you all write is so meaningful to me. So then I wind up so anxious that every response takes me half an hour. :P Maybe that should be my resolution for 2017, getting better at responding to reviews.

Other new thing! I've decided to post each scene as I write it on pa tre on! If you'd like to see more frequent updates and you have a dollar a month to spare, consider joining in! I'm Gin Pennies at (remove the spaces) pa tre on .com(slash)GinPennies. Or is it called a backslash? I don't know...


.

Zuko marched toward the throne room, his mind awhirl with the words written on the scroll crumpled in his fist. For the first time in days, he was hardly even aware of Katara following behind him, trotting to keep up. The rustle of her clothing did not even touch the stormy chaos of his thoughts.

...will discuss the matter upon my return...

...I have no doubt that you will perform your duty with the utmost diligence...

...easily entrusted to my loyal son...

...loyal son...

Zuko clenched his teeth as if that might still his thoughts, and only by sheer force of will did he wrestle himself back from wild suspicions. It was not so strange that the Crown Prince should be sent in the Fire Lord's stead to deliver his will. Zuko had already represented his father at some minor functions. It wasn't so strange...

But a judgement on a member of the royal family? There had not been a conviction of treason within the royal family for hundreds of years. The situation demanded the gravity of the Fire Lord's undivided attention, which meant his actual presence. Ozai had condemned Iroh to a lifetime of imprisonment, after all, and even if the old man was a crazy traitor, they were still brothers. What could be more important than looking his brother in the eye when this heavy blow was dealt?

What could possibly be so important that Zuko's father would leave him to preside over this matter, over this man?

...loyal son...

He shook off the thought before it could even solidify in his mind, disgusted with himself. The matter was simple. Iroh was a traitor. Traitors to the Fire Nation were no more than honorless cowards. They didn't deserve sympathy, or great shows of dignity and respect.

...And besides, Toph would free Iroh before the convoy could even leave the city. It wasn't like Zuko was truly condemning the old man to any real suffering.

Not at all...

He arrived in the throne room far too early and sat at his place on the left side of the high platform, stiff as a board and with his pulse hammering in his throat. He did not watch the royal guards assume places by the door and at the base of each pillar in a display of strength, nor did he see Lieutenant Roshu take up a post discretely off to one side, out of sight for the ceremony but near enough to watch his charge. Nor did Zuko notice Katara kneel on the dais behind him, concealed slightly behind the ornate structure built over the Fire Lord's seat.

All that Zuko noticed was the moment his attendants arrived to hurriedly arrange the black armor of the crown prince over his light formal attire. The armor had been made weeks before Zuko had set foot in the capital, cast and hammered to his exact measurements so that it fit him close as a crab's shell. Every time the servants tied the breast and back plates together and lowered the mantle past his head, he felt his chest swell against the steel, buoyed by the pride of his birthright.

But now he felt as if the armor hung off him, as if there was just not enough of him to fill it properly, and he realized suddenly that it had been weeks since he had trained. Iroh, who had always urged him to take proper breaks "to allow the lesson to sink in," would probably be delighted. Zuko banished the thought and scowled.

The second his boots had been replaced, he dismissed the last of the servants with an unintentionally sharp command. Alone on the dais at last, he drew a breath, cleared his mind, and ignited the line of flame that stretched across the throne room.

Katara squeaked behind him, and Zuko startled. He had almost forgotten she was there and, heart banging against the bones of his chest, he shot her a warning look over his shoulder. That was all he needed right now, another of her fits of insubordination.

But Katara only stared blandly down at the floor in her usual stubborn way. Zuko glared at her, but she said nothing. With a faint huff, he turned his scowl on the flames before him, and the still throneroom beyond.

The minutes seemed to crawl by, but then, suddenly, the broad double doors opened to make way for a procession. The soldiers marched loosely, not the tight formation Zuko might have liked to see from his own men, but he brushed the thought aside at once.

In the middle of the escort, the old man approached. He walked slowly, with his head hung forward and his shoulders slumped. His hands were shackled before him and his straggly hair hung loose around his face. His grey beard had grown unkempt and concealed much, but Zuko could spot the weary sag of his eyes and the red in his cheeks even at a distance.

Zuko's hands curled into fists on his thighs. The old man should have been offered a palanquin or a cart, something to spare him the climb up the mountain in the heat of the day. But in the next breath, Zuko forced his hands flat again. He had a purpose here, a duty to perform. He would not be distracted from the Fire Lord's justice.

He was a loyal son.

The escort brought the prisoner before the throne and stopped, holding ranks. At their center, the old man stood very still, peering grimly up at the figure behind the flames. Zuko thought he saw a flash of surprise, a faint widening of those warm eyes, but if he did, it was swiftly smoothed away. Iroh frowned up at him, stern and unyielding. Zuko had to unclench his teeth and swallow hard before he managed to speak.

"Prince Iroh, you stand accused of treason against the Fire Nation…"

The formal words dried up in his throat. He swallowed again, trying to force away whatever was obstructing him.

"At the Eastern Air Temple, you aided the Water Tribe against Princess Azula and against me, and risked the escape of the Avatar. You were later caught in an attempt to commandeer a Fire Nation vessel along with those same resistance fighters."

He paused. There were other instances he could bring up - about fraternizing with Jeong Jeong the Deserter, or about Iroh's unexplained ties to that old waterbending master, or about his repeated attempts to sway Zuko to treason - but those things suddenly felt personal, private missteps that did not bear mentioning in this arena.

It was all treason, though, and Zuko felt a horrible press of guilt as he left it unsaid.

The flame wall fluttered and huffed. The silence was brutal, oppressive. Zuko realized that he should just deliver the sentence now. He could put an end to this scene and send the old man away, send him to prison, to his freedom. The words hung on the tip of his tongue.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

The question was pointless; there was nothing to be said. No amount of excuses or explanations could change the known facts. No one could avert the sentence that the Fire Lord had already decided. But it was Zuko, not Ozai, who sat on the dais, and it was Zuko, not Ozai, who would deliver the sentence. He had to ask - because Iroh was not just a faceless traitor. He was Zuko's teacher, the one member of his family who had followed him into exile, the one member of his family who...

Zuko clenched his teeth. He needed to understand why his uncle stood below him now, and why he had chosen this shameful path.

Iroh looked up through the flames, his wiry eyebrows knit together and his frown severe.

"You know as well as I do, Prince Zuko, that these allegations are true," he said in his raspy, level voice.

Just hearing it, Zuko felt as if he'd taken a kick to the chest.

"I acknowledge that I have acted against the interests of the Fire Lord, and that the Fire Lord would of course consider that treason. I gladly confess to having aligned myself with the Avatar in the fight for balance, and furthermore-" He paused, narrowing his eyes- "I confess to having conspired with many known enemies of the Fire Lord."

The fire shuddered and flared, and for a beat it was the only thing in the throne room that moved. Finally, Zuko found his voice, steelier than he felt.

"You admit pretty easily to plotting your own brother's downfall."

Iroh stared flatly back at him. "And yet he is not present to hear all his old suspicions confirmed. If he wishes to call in the debt for my crimes, why is he not here to do it himself?"

"The Fire Lord has honored me with this duty."

"Has he?" he barked. "Do you feel honored, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko felt ill. Iroh's anger cut at him, and his boldness was a surprise. He may as well have been surrounded by his own soldiers rather than Zuko's.

Now that he thought of it, there was something off about all of this, something very wrong with the armored men below. Only seven served in the escort, and the two spearmen had fallen back to join the guards at the door. At the front, the firebenders stared straight ahead, their masks impenetrable. The officer in the lead had to be Lieutenant Jee, but he wore a helmet as well.

Zuko's neck prickled. Lieutenant Jee never wore a helmet. He claimed it interfered too much with his peripheral vision.

Iroh, perhaps spotting some stiffening in his posture, went on in a harder voice.

"It is no longer for me to discuss these matters with you. My destiny lies in another direction, now."

Zuko hardly heard. He was looking more closely at the soldiers. Their stances were not quite right. The man who was not Jee had clenched his fists at his sides and seemed on the brink of action.

"Guards!" Zuko shouted, already knowing it was too late. "These are not my men!"

The guards stationed at the door tried to leave to raise an alarm, but the men on either side of them were too fast. In a flash, their spears sank between the gaps in armor. There was a brief scuffle, and both guards went down. They lay in their own blood on the polished wood floor.

Zuko hardly saw them fall. Before him, the escort party split in all directions. Whale tooth swords flashed out of concealment. Iroh's shackles fell to the floor with a clatter and he leapt into the space between two firebenders, swiftly engaging and knocking both to the floor with controlled bursts of flame.

And the man in front, the man who was not Jee, vaulted onto the platform straight through the wall of flame and, before his boots even touched the stone, he swung his blade at Zuko's throat.

.


.

Toph waited, tapping her fingers on the table, for the clock to chime. Ginji sat on the other side of the room, the tiny sounds of sewing emanating from her. It had been frustrating, being trapped here with nothing to see and so little to listen to. The monotony had driven Toph to strange interests.

"So did you convince that guard to go out with you or is he still playing hard to get?"

"Oh," Ginji sighed. "He took me down to a tea shop on the pier. He spent half the date trying to interest me in his fireball league even though I explained that sports are the most boring thing to me. It was torture. I thought I was literally going to die."

"Sounds pretty bad," Toph said, listening to the clock whir faintly across the room. "What about the other half of the date?"

"Well, I told you he's pretty..." The smile in her voice was easy to hear. "A girl's got to look on the bright side."

"Ha ha! Nice. So what happened? I want details."

Ginji, as always, was happy to accommodate her. At the start of her imprisonment in the palace, Toph had thought her personal maid's incessant sighing was going to drive her crazy, but when she finally managed to strike up a conversation with her, it became clear that their interests overlapped significantly. Toph was delighted to hear the inappropriate ins and outs of Ginji's exploits, and Ginji, being possessed of a rebellious streak that made her a less-than-stellar maid, was delighted to expose a little noble girl to the dirty underbelly of palace life.

After she had told the whole story in all its juicy splendor, a charged silence fell. Toph could practically hear Ginji chewing her lips. "There's a rumor going around that Prince Zuko summoned Princess Katara to his garden the other night. Do you think he..." She stopped sewing and nearly purred. "...claimed what's his?"

"Pbb! Please. Those two are not on friendly terms. Did you even see them together earlier?"

"Friendly and amorous are not the same thing, little madame. My aunt used to say that aversion is a mask you wear to conceal attraction."

"That's a pretty saying, but I know them both, and I'm telling you right now that - firstly - Prince Zuko wouldn't make a demand like that and - secondly - Katara would knock the sparks out of him if he tried."

"But she swore to serve him."

"Yeah, but she's not a slave. She's a princess. And the Water Tribe has a whole bunch of crazy rules about girls getting physical- Just-" she waved a hand to dismiss the topic- "trust me on this. Even if there is attraction, neither one of those stiffs is going to set aside their personal moral code for a little make-out time."

Ginji sniffed and began to say something else, but the clock finally struck the hour. As the little tune plunked out, Toph grinned, and crossed the room to press her hand against the gold surface. The parts inside blazed to life in her mind, a hive of pieces working together to produce that dumb little song.

The more Toph heard the tune, though, the more she liked it.

"You really do like the Prince's gift, don't you?" Ginji said, smiling again. "I haven't seen you get so excited about anything before."

Toph barely restrained a cackle. "Yeah, it was very thoughtful of him."

She wondered if she should wait a little while to make sure that Iroh got all the way to wherever they were keeping Sokka. But then, what if she waited and they both got taken out of the city in a cart or something? Who knew how many carts there were coming and going from this place all the time?

No, better to move now and try to pick them out of the confusion.

"He certainly isn't like I thought he would be," Ginji went on quietly. "All the servants from the voyage talk about how violent he was, but he seemed so pleasant during his visit here, and I haven't heard of a single thing he's done to frighten a servant since he arrived in the palace."

"Let me tell you something about Zuko…" Toph snickered and felt along the width of the clock, listening to the music dwindle and stop. She could feel each little metal tooth as it was plucked by the big nubby cylinder inside. "At heart, he really can be a good guy, and I actually do hope we'll get to be friends again one day-" She dug her fingers deep into the soft gold- "but he makes some really destructive choices."

Ginji made a shocked noise, but Toph barely heard. She was reshaping the clock, forcing the outer case to split and roll into a massive ball. All the gears and cogs spilled out in a flood of tiny pieces, almost liquid in the way they surged up under Toph's feet and bore her forward, toward the window.

"Great taste in gifts, though."

The ball of gold smashed through the lattice and, from the sound of it, a big chunk of the wall below, and Toph could hear the wooden fragments rain down on the courtyard, perhaps a story down. A garden. She could tell by the soft sounds of debris striking grass and water. The golden ball resounded as it struck deep into the soft earth. Toph rode the cluster of clock bits straight out the side of the guest wing and fell with them toward the ground. The earth bowed deeply to accept her, and suddenly all the world was clear to her again.

She could see the stable and the cage inside, and the massive bison pacing inside that. She could see the stone throne in the heart of the palace, and the chaotic scramble taking place atop it. She could see the deep subterranean places where guards marched and lava bubbled and a skinny kid hung, stretched out between his chains like a plucked duck.

Toph grinned and cracked her knuckles. "Alright, guys. Let's get this show on the road."

.


.

Katara fell back on one hip, still kneeling just behind the golden pillar of the throne, as one of the intruders surged through the fire to strike at Zuko with a flashing sword.

But Zuko was quick. He rolled to his back, then kicked his opponent's hand. The sword screeched a handspan along Zuko's breast plate before it went clanging across the floor. Zuko flipped to his feet and, with a shout, punched a blast of flame at the armored man.

Yet the stranger was quick, too. He dodged to the outside of the blow and, turning with the momentum, dropped down and swept a leg into Zuko's ankle. The prince went staggering to one side, and his opponent came at him again, grabbing his outflung arm and using his momentum to slam him face-first into the wall. Zuko twisted away with a shout and an eruption of flames, but before he could square off and get his bearings, his attacker was on him again.

Katara watched, stunned by the sudden violence and completely unarmed, until Zuko managed to carry through with a fiery punch and the stranger dodged back near where she still knelt.

Without thinking, she snapped out her foot and tripped him. He went down in a clatter of armor, and his firebender helmet went bouncing across the stone. Katara stared, transfixed by the sight of blue-beaded locks. Fierce eyes, blue eyes, snapped to her, then widened, softened.

"Katara."

"Dad!"

She fell on him, flinging a hug around his neck. His big arms closed around her almost too tightly. Katara did not see the way he watched Zuko over her shoulder, nor the way Zuko watched them, unsurprised. He stood in a bending stance, poised to strike at his fallen enemy, but he did not move. In her father's arms, Katara forgot he was even there.

Then the flames of the throne went out with a fwoomph and Iroh's hard voice rose over the continued sounds of fighting from the columns.

"Surrender, Prince Zuko. You are gravely outnumbered."

Hakoda pulled Katara to her feet with him, then rounded to face the conflict. Over his shoulder, she could see that Zuko stood ready to fight. From all sides, Water Tribe warriors in disguise waded in on him. Zuko curled his lip - bloodied from his impact with the wall - and held his hands rigid like blades before him.

"A prince of the Fire Nation never surrenders. You'd better hope you can subdue me before more guards come."

"We can do a lot more than that," Hakoda said, his voice low and heavy in a way Katara did not recognize.

Iroh flicked a hard look at the Water Tribe chieftain. "Prince Zuko is not our target, Chief Hakoda. Remember the plan." His eyes returned to Zuko. "Where is the Fire Lord?"

Zuko hesitated as he met his uncle's eye, then twisted his mouth into a snarl. "Like I'd tell a pack of assassins anything. I'm not a traitor and a coward like you!"

"We don't have time for this," Kottik said from the edge of the dais. "The prince would serve just as well. He'll know enough-"

"We do not need him," Iroh spoke over him, "nor do we have time to fight. I can take us to the Avatar's prison through the hidden tunnels, but we must hurry."

"I don't know how you're used to doing things, but we don't leave enemies at our backs."

"Our agreement ensured minimal casualties."

"Yes, but this is not the scenario we had hoped for," Bato put in reasonably. "If we want to get out of here without being roasted, we're going to have to change the plan..."

Katara stared between this standoff and the chamber below the throne, where two men in red armor still struggled and many more laid sprawled and unconscious on the floor. Roshu - quickly recognizable by his lack of a helmet - fell back again and again as his younger, more ferocious opponent - Miku, probably - slashed at him. It took Katara a moment to realize that the lieutenant was unarmed.

But then Miku overextended his reach. Roshu dodged the slash, then leapt back in to slam the smaller man with his shoulder. Miku flew back into a pillar, then fell to the floor in a heap. Roshu ran past him before he even fully landed and grabbed Kovu's ankles where the warrior stood on the dais, yanking the man to his belly with a shattering impact on the stone.

"Run, Prince Zuko! You must-"

With a growl, Kottik lashed out. It seemed almost off-hand, a single smooth jab of the tip of his sword right into the side of Roshu's neck. Katara saw the lieutenant's eyes go wide and he clamped his big palm to the spot, but blood leaked out immediately, spilling down the front of his armor, a slightly darker red.

Katara didn't think. She darted over the Fire Lord's seat and dropped to the floor just as Roshu fell forward, holding himself upright with one arm flung onto the dais. He slid down sideways, blinking hard as if confused.

As there always was when he followed Katara to Zuko's appointments in the heat of the day, there was a flask at his belt. Katara yanked the cork from it and pulled out the few mouthfuls of water that remained, forming it into a glowing blue ball. Roshu blinked hard at it, then at Katara as if trying to recognize her. When she reached for his throat, he slapped her hand away. Katara frowned but did not stop.

"Just hold still, you stubborn hog-monkey."

He fought her until he was unable to lift his arm. Finally she managed to shove his bloody hand clear and clamp her own over the wound, sealing it in a surge of light. When she withdrew, Roshu lay still, swooning from the loss of blood, but breathing steadily. Through the slits of his eyes, he fought to focus on her - but the glower on his face seemed to come very easily.

When she looked up at the men standing on the dais, still hovering on the edge of violence, she startled. Kovu had risen unsteadily to his feet and was frowning at her with an almost hurt look. Kottik watched her from the corner of his eye, all reproach. Iroh's face had gentled with thoughtfulness and pity. Zuko's eyes flicked to her in the same way they flicked to all of the enemies surrounding him.

Hakoda stared at her directly, anger and frustration and horror all mingling on his dear face.

"What are you doing?" he finally demanded. "We are at war and you heal the enemy. This- this arrogant pup puts a collar on you and you just sit at his heel? I thought you were a warrior, Katara!"

Katara felt her face heat as everything came shockingly into focus. She felt the cold iron against her neck. She felt the sticky blood between her fingers and the silk against her thighs. No words came to her now to defend her actions; nothing that Roshu had done redeemed him for being a bully when he'd held the chain. He hadn't even wanted her help. Maybe it would have been better to just let him die. Katara dropped her eyes from her father's in a way that was nearly reflexive, now.

"She doesn't have a choice," Zuko snapped, "so leave her alone."

Hakoda rounded on him, bristling, but Katara finally managed to speak. "It's true. Azula made me promise to serve Zuko or she would have killed Sokka."

"And now you are bound by honor," Iroh said quietly, a little bitterly. His eyes flicked to Zuko, whose scowl had only deepened, and there was judgement in his look.

"Take her with you."

Everyone present blinked and stared at Zuko. He did not waver as Katara gaped back at him, but switched his focus to Hakoda as he went on, quiet and fierce.

"I won't tell you where my father is, but your kids don't belong here." He darted a glance at Iroh, a hint of red rising in his cheek. "Sokka's in the prison tower. Now take Katara and get out."

Scoffs and disbelieving glances flew among the warriors. Unnoticed, Iroh's eyebrows tipped back and he stared at his nephew. Katara took a step nearer, shaking her head to try and clear it, but her voice was lost in the noise. "You can't just hand me off like-!"

"Smells like a trap."

"He takes us for fools."

"Hey, how stupid do you think we are?"

Hakoda cut through sharply. "And the Avatar?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes and his mouth turned downward. "What about him?"

"Did you think I would hear my son's name and forget?"

Katara watched Zuko blink before his expression turned stony. She let out a frustrated breath and cut in before he could say something foolish. "Toph is probably escaping right now. She'll free Aang - she can go right through earth and metal, so it'll be easy for her to get to him, wherever he's being held."

Bato and Kovu cast her doubtful looks, and the others seemed to ignore her. Hakoda, still watching Zuko steadily, finally spoke in a too-calm voice.

"Katara, I know you believe in your friend, but what makes you think she can escape now, when she hasn't managed it in all this time?"

"They were keeping her in a wooden room, but she has metal now. She- er, this might sound a little crazy, but Toph can bend metal." Katara could see the warriors subtly shaking their heads, sharing disbelieving glances. Her back stiffened. "Trust me, she will escape. I was there. I saw her reaction when Zuko gave her the clock."

Kottik scoffed aloud, but Iroh's voice was quiet, and a pained note ran through it.

"Zuko…"

The prince's face contorted, turned fiercer than before. "She doesn't belong here, either. None of you do. Get out! Get out!"

He swept his arm at them and a burst of flame arced out in its wake. The warriors ducked back, but Iroh only raised one hand, brushing the brightness from the air. Tendrils of smoke swam up and vanished around him, but Iroh stood unmoving. His look was grim, his hands steady at his sides.

Facing him, Zuko breathed hard through his teeth. His knuckles were white, his eyes wild. He looked a little crazy, and even Katara took a step back, not sure what he might do. But the pause stretched, and Zuko did not strike.

Behind her, she heard commotion coming from the door, and one of the spearmen there called out.

"Guards approaching!"

Zuko and Iroh did not move, but Hakoda looked between them. "Iroh, we can't wait around here any longer."

"Very well." He fixed a final assessing look on Zuko, then hastened past him to a place in the wall behind the throne.

When she had first arrived in the throne room, Katara had been about as unnerved by the monstrous face decorating the wall as she had been with Zuko's particularly bad mood. Now she watched as Iroh pressed a surge of fire into a crack and a part of the monstrous mouth slid away to reveal a passageway lit by sporadic torches.

Iroh entered the passageway and paused there, not looking back. The spearmen came from the doorway half-carrying a dazed Miku between them and, with the help of Kovu and Bato, began hoisting him onto the dais. Over their low talk, Katara almost did not hear Iroh speak. But she did hear, and she turned back to watch him peer over his shoulder at Zuko.

"This was a test, you know. Your father will not forgive failure."

Zuko flinched, but he did not argue and he did not look surprised. Katara's breath caught in her throat. She was beginning to understand what had happened when he read that letter. He had known from the start that this sentencing was a test. And it hurt him.

An unwelcome pang lanced through her chest. Zuko might not deserve her sympathy after all he had done to her, but it was so wrong for a father to put his son in such a cruel position. And for what? To prove what?

Zuko only curled his lip. "He'll understand I was taken by surprise. This scheme of yours was crazy. No one could have anticipated it."

"Someone did," Iroh said as he turned back to frown meaningfully at his nephew, "or else my brother would have been here personally. Make no mistake, he will not see a great deal of difference between allowing my escape and aiding in it."

"So I should do what? Run away and join you and the Avatar?" Zuko spat out the question. He stuck out an arm toward the men scattered about the floor. "These are our people, you crazy old man! Unlike you, I haven't abandoned my duty to them."

"I only meant that you will need to become a better liar before you try and explain your survival to the Fire Lord," Iroh said coolly. He frowned at Zuko for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh, glancing about the throne room.

Katara followed his stare to the doors, bound shut with a sturdy leather cord. They rattled and creaked, and she thought she heard shouts from the corridor beyond.

Suddenly, a blast thundered behind her, and Katara whirled around in time to watch Iroh's second strike. His fire consumed the frame surrounding the throne, melting the gold and setting the wood ablaze. The timbers splintered and collapsed in on themselves.

"Perhaps the wall hangings next," he said to Zuko without humor. "You want it to look convincing."

Zuko flashed a wide-eyed stare between him and the burning throne, and Iroh hurried into the passageway ahead of Miku and the spearmen.

Kovu, Kottik, and Bato still stood in a loose circle around Zuko, waiting for some signal. Hakoda, however, only glowered at the prince. Zuko tore his attention from his uncle's vanishing back to return the hard look, his eyes darting to either side to watch the warriors around him.

A blast hit the doors, shuddering them on their hinges, but the ropes held. Katara glanced back in time to see the bonds stretch and a little gust of fire wink through the crack, then looked pleadingly up at her father on the dais above her.

"Dad, you have to go. Toph will find you. I know she will."

Hakoda snapped his attention to her, very clearly trying to restrain strong emotions. "Why does that sound like you think you're staying here?"

"Because I am," Katara said. She held up her chin, refusing to look away this time.

"No, you're not!" Zuko snarled down at her. "You hate me so much? Now's your chance to get away! So go! Go!"

"Go slush yourself," Katara spat, baring her teeth at him. "You don't get to decide when this ends. You don't get to sweep me out of the way just because I make you uncomfortable."

"You don't make me uncomfortable - you make me miserable!"

"Because I remind you of what you did!"

"What I did?" he roared. "You broke your promise! You lied! You never loved me at all - you just used me!"

Katara's jaw dropped and she opened her mouth to shout back, only to pause at a faint movement to one side. Kovu's wide eyes flicked away from her as she glanced at him, but it was enough to launch a searing blush down her face and neck. Bato and Kottik didn't so much as blink, watching Zuko.

A second blast came from the doors, louder than the first in the sudden silence.

Hakoda, watching the exchange with a calculating frown, cleared his throat. "Alright, so you don't want to go. Do I at least get a hug goodbye this time?"

Katara gaped at her father. She had expected to have to fight him from the room, but now he stood with his arms spread to receive her. His expression was grim but resigned. Suddenly very aware of the door cracking behind her, Katara scrambled onto the dais and threw herself into his embrace.

"I'm sorry about this, Katara," he said against the side of her head. Unseen, his eyes flicked to Zuko, narrowed. "But there's no time."

Then he hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of cabbages and moved immediately into the tunnel at a trot.

Katara squawked and thrashed, but his grip was tight and it was all she could do to keep from bouncing hard on his armored shoulder. Looking back, she could see Bato and the others following and, beyond them, Zuko watching her disappear into the dark.

Despite what he'd said, he did not look pleased to see her go. He stood alone on the dais, an alarmed look on his face and his mouth opened as if to protest. But then his expression closed off like a door slamming shut and he whirled away in a flash of fire. The blasts of firebending and gut-deep shouts echoed down the tunnel. Katara glared back until she lost sight of the throne, until the noises faded to whispers in the distance.

.


.

"Thanks, Momo," Aang said to the lemur perched on his head, and more specifically to the squirming cave crawler being held before his face, "but I'm still gonna have to pass."

Momo purred and then the cave crawler disappeared, replaced only by the rapid crunch of little teeth chewing. Aang sighed.

"At least you're still having a good time. This place is terrible." He looked again, for the thousandth time, the ten thousandth maybe, up at the domed steel ceiling, at the distant walls dotted with torches and the door that only ever opened for the delivery of his meals - usually a broth or porridge of indeterminate origin. A guard had to stand there and spoon it into his mouth, and then watch in awkward silence as he chewed. Unless it was Ming's shift. She would at least sneak him a real vegetable and try to tell a joke.

She was too smart for the 'unchain just my one hand so I can stretch' trick, too, but at least she was a good sport about it. Unlike some people.

"Hey!" One of the guards stepped away from his post at the door, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Is that monkey thing in there again?"

"No," Aang said, tipping his face up so that Momo fell off the top of his head and hung down his back by a stinging grip on his ears. Aang flinched, his eyes tearing up a little. "No monkey things in here."

"It's in there again," the guard said in a lower voice to his partner. "I saw its big ears."

"Just leave it alone, Churri," the other guard, a tall thin guy with a mustache and a pointy beard, sighed. "We saw it on the ship sometimes. It's just a little animal. It's not hurting anything."

"Look, I'm down here babysitting in the dark all day, I don't want to clean up after some loose monkey. I hate monkeys." Churri paused, then went on grimly. "I'm going in there to catch it."

"We're under orders. The captain won't be happy if you get too close to the Avatar."

"He's chained up. What can he do?"

Aang smiled innocently and thought of all the things he could do.

Unfortunately, chained up as he was, it was a pretty short list. He could blow Churri off the platform, and Momo could pick his pockets in the confusion, but Aang knew his guards never carried the key to his manacles. The captain carried the key, and he was almost never here. And he certainly never got close enough to be blasted off the platform by a gust of airbending.

Churri hefted his spear and marched across the steel bridge, his curl-toed boots clanking loudly in the quiet. Momo peeked over Aang's shoulder to watch. When he was about halfway across, the guard narrowed his eyes.

"You said there weren't any monkey things in here. The Avatar's not supposed to lie."

"Well, technically Momo's not a monkey. He's a lemur," Aang said helpfully. "And there aren't actually any rules that say the Avatar can't lie. I'm just supposed to promote peace and harmony between the four elements."

"Peace and harmony. Right." Churri was watching Momo as he stalked closer.

"I used to visit the Fire Nation a lot before the war," Aang went on. "It used to be really nice here. Hospitable. This one time, my friend Cuzon and I went looking for eel-hounds-"

"Yah!"

Churri made a mad leap across the platform and dodged under Aang's outstretched arm to grab for Momo. The lemur just darted onto Aang's shoulder and ran up his arm, stopping about eight feet along the connected chain. There, he perched in place and looked back at the guard with an offended screech. Churri poked at him with his spear, but the lemur was just out of reach.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, we ended up soaked and miles downriver and had to ask for help from a bunch of strangers to get back to Cuzon's village. A lot of people helped us," Aang said, smiling faintly as he remembered. "They dried our clothes and gave us food and one man even gave us a ride in his cart."

Churri glowered up at Momo, working his jaw to one side in thought. "Maybe a trap would work. I'll bet that old groundskeeper has something…"

"The point is that people in the Fire Nation were prosperous and generous. Now, it's all… power and hatred and war. I just don't understand how things could have changed so much here."

"Kid," Churri huffed, "don't ask me. I'm a prison guard, not a historian."

"You're talking about what happened in Harbor City, aren't you?" the other guard said from his post at the door. His quiet voice echoed in the emptiness. "The whole Fire Nation isn't like that. I'm from a village in the north, and times are hard there, too, but you'd never see a mob in my hometown."

"I'd like to visit there sometime," Aang said with a genuine smile, then a shrug, "but I'm pretty… tied up right now!"

Both guards were silent. Churri frowned at him a little distastefully. "When they told me I'd be standing watch on the Avatar, I thought it'd be an honorable and dignified post. I wrote to my father about it. And now I end up chasing your pet monkey and listening to your bad jokes."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises!"

The earth began rumbling beneath them, rattling the steel panels on their bolts. Churri struggled to keep his feet, staring at Aang with wide eyes. "What are you doing? Stop that!"

"It's not me," Aang shouted over the rumble. Momo shrieked and flew up toward the vent through which he came and went from the prison.

With a scream of tearing metal, one of the walls burst open, giving way to a cloud of dust. A sudden grin split Aang's face. He hardly dared to believe it. From somewhere in the darkness beyond, a twinkling music-box tune emerged, playing behind a piping voice.

"And now, presented by the Blind Bandit and her Amazing Musical Metalbending-" Toph emerged from the dust, smirking- "here's a little number I like to call 'The Avatar Escapes' in B flat!"

With the final word, she reached out with both hands and, from across the huge room, twisted the door in its frame, effectively locking it shut. The guard, who had been scrambling to fit the key so that he could raise an alarm, took a bewildered step back, then shot a wide-eyed look at Toph.

"M- Miss Bei Fong?"

"Hey Kaiji! How's it going?"

"I- It's- alright…"

"Oh," Aang said, beaming. "You guys know each other?"

Toph shrugged off-handedly. "Kaiji was kinda my buddy on the voyage. He's a good guy."

Churri seemed to come to his senses and leveled his spear at her. "Halt!"

"Are you kidding me?" Toph dropped into a bending stance and the steel under the guard's feet rippled like a shaken sheet. Churri dropped his spear and went tumbling down the far side of the platform with a cry.

Toph shifted, and a stone spar slammed into the platform, creating a bridge between Aang and where she stood. She tottered across and broke open his cuffs in her bare hands. Aang wobbled and plopped down on his rear the second he was free.

"Oof."

"Come on, Twinkle Toes," Toph said as she broke the cuffs off his ankles, "quit goofing around. We're on a schedule, here. Tick-tock."

Aang picked up Churri's discarded spear and used it as a staff to drag himself to his feet. He wobbled a bit, then stood firm. "What's that music?"

Toph pulled a little metal box from a fold of her pink clothes, which would have been elegant if they weren't all smudged with dirt. The box appeared to be gold and had no opening that Aang could see, but it still played its little tune. Toph grinned at the sound.

"Just a little Earth Kingdom history." Her expression turned serious and she knelt to press her hand to the steel on which they stood. "I'll tell you about it later. Right now, we have to go. Gramps is in big trouble."

.


.

Iroh hastened along the passageway, breathing hard but not slowing until he reached the first fork. There he paused to wait for the others.

The tunnels spread out silently around him, hungry throats from which to choose. He should not have hurried ahead this way. It was foolish to divide their number, but there was little about this plan that had not been foolish from the start. He had relied too much on that craziness and audacity, and had gambled that his brother would never expect the Water Tribe to move so boldly to reclaim their own. Even as a boy, Ozai had always underestimated the power of love in that way.

Not like Zuko. Watching him through the fire, Iroh had not seen a trace of the compassionate boy his nephew had been, but he should have known better. He should have guarded his heart against not only his worst fears of what Zuko would do, but against the cutting hope that came at the slightest chance...

Iroh let out a long breath and pressed the thoughts away with it. There was no time now for doubts or speculation. Zuko had chosen his own path, and only he would be able to change it. For Iroh, there was a different road to travel. The fate of the world was at stake. Time was of the essence. He had to face facts, not tangle with hoped-for possibilities, and he had to salvage what he could of this disastrous turn of events.

Behind his peacefully shut eyes, Iroh cleared away all of the possibilities. Toph was still incarcerated in an unknown location. Sokka, if he had not been sent away already, probably was being held in the tower. The Avatar was in Azulon's prison beneath the mountain. It was most likely that Ozai had left Zuko to dole out the sentence as a distraction, while he himself hid away in a safe place until the attack was dealt with.

Iroh opened his eyes. He knew where his brother would hiding. Yet, facing Ozai was not the point of this endeavor. They had only intended to take the Fire Lord hostage and use him to ensure the release of the Avatar and the other prisoners. With Katara and Sokka positioned as they were, the game had changed.

At the scuffs and quick beats of footsteps, he turned back to face Nuklok and Akuma, who walked on either side of Miku to help steady him. "Where is Chief Hakoda?"

Nuklok shook his head. "They should be right behind us."

"There is no time to waste." Iroh indicated the tunnel to the right. "This passage will take you to the cliffs outside the prison tower. There is a path over the rim of the mountain to the west of the tower, but it may be guarded."

Miku blinked hard, rubbing the back of his head. "Where are you going?"

Iroh turned to look down the tunnel to the left. "We came here to free the Avatar - but I will not force Hakoda to choose between the fate of the world and his own children. While you and the others find Sokka, I will find Avatar Aang and meet you on the western path. With a little luck, we will all escape the city together."

"And without it," Akuma grumbled, "I guess we'll meet up in the afterlife."

Nuklok ignored him, frowning fixedly at Iroh. "Hakoda's not going to like us splitting up."

"Then he and I will have plenty to discuss when this is over. For now though, I must hurry."

Iroh left them at the intersection and ran down the passageway that would take him, after many twists and turns, to the prison built to hold the Avatar. He had taken two turns when he caught the clank of armor from ahead and pulled up short. Seconds before the squadron rounded a bend, he darted down a side-passage, intending to cut around the obstacle in the network of tunnels. Yet, he only encountered another squadron and was forced to turn again. And again.

By the time he reached the familiar passage, Iroh knew what was happening. He was being herded, not toward the Avatar's prison, but to a place equally deep under the mountain. The Fire Lord's bunker.

The broad door before him stood unguarded. Iroh frowned at it for a long moment despite the approaching sounds of soldiers. He had no desire to face Ozai. There was no reasoning with him, no maneuvering him, and certainly no fighting him. Ozai was a ruthless firebender in his prime - Iroh, however he might have prepared himself for this day, had faded from the best of his strength. There could be no victory for him or for the side of balance on the other side of that door.

But there was also no turning back. Iroh pushed the door open and stepped warily into the room beyond.

There were no guards. Only a few standing torches scattered around the perimeter of the room and, sitting on the low platform below the Fire Nation banner, another player Iroh had failed to properly anticipate.

"Hello, Uncle," Azula said with a smirk. "How good of you to stop in for a chat."