A/N: We're getting into longer chapters territory now! The next few are around 1900 words on average, but after that, I have a whole stretch of chapters in the 2.5k–4k range coming up.
The closer the airship draws to the capital, the worse Katara's mood gets. There's not much to go on, seeing how she doesn't talk to Azula anyway and spends most of her time staring out the window, but Azula can tell regardless. It's in the little things. The way Katara's mouth is pressed shut a little tighter than usual. The absent look in her eyes. The tension in her shoulders.
She must have enjoyed this trip more than I thought, Azula realises. It might be useful to know in the future, to ensure Katara's loyalty or compliance.
When the airship lands, well into the afternoon, she sends word ahead to the kitchens. The komodo-tiger must be preserved, of course, but moreover, she has some special orders for dinner. Seafood, and any Water Tribe specialties the chefs know. Katara deserves a treat, Azula has decided. As much as she has enforced Katara's submission with threats in the past, there is something to be said for rewards. Already, Katara is hardly recognisable as the savage girl who nearly killed Azula two years ago.
Tomato-carrot and stick. There's a right mix between pleasure and threats for everyone.
Fear is an insufficient motivator.
And, if Azula were honest with herself for a moment… she's enjoyed the past days. Hunting with Katara, seeing their familiarity work to their advantage, their bending play off each other… it's a rush she hasn't felt since, well, since Ty Lee and Mai.
However, Azula is not honest with herself.
Or perhaps only a little bit.
Katara is good entertainment, that's it.
Once back home, both of them change back into something more casual. Azula eschews her formal robe in favour of a simple kimono, and Katara changes into her usual clothes. When dinner is served, Azula watches Katara carefully.
I had better see some gratitude for all this.
Katara pops the first bite into her mouth, and Azula follows suit. After a few more bites, Katara's lifeless expression softens just the least bit, and Azula hides a satisfied smile. Tomato-carrot and stick. It is good though. Azula isn't one for seafood, usually, but the palace chefs can turn even the most primitive dishes into something delicious (and how do they know Water Tribe recipes? She's gonna have to investigate that some time). The sea prunes are vile, but the algae salad is better, and the sautéed shark-bass is phenomenal.
To Katara, it's a taste of home. Why Azula has done this, she doesn't know, but just for a moment, Katara allows herself to be nostalgic. To think of the fireplace in her village, gran-gran and the others gathered around, preparing a delicious meal. The elders telling stories afterwards, when the flames have turned into a smoldering hearth. Each bite, each salty piece, feels like a cold embrace.
It's beautiful.
Azula has no trouble reading those feelings in Katara's face, and for once, overwhelmed as she is, Katara doesn't try to hide them, either. They eat in silence, wait in silence for the servants to clear up. Afterwards, through, Katara's face darkens again, and she slumps onto a divan, waiting for her inevitable fate. Belatedly (Shame on you, Azula. You've gotten sloppy.), Azula realises what's up.
It's the night of the full moon.
Like every month, the chi-blocker arrives. More than Ty Lee, perhaps more than Azula, more than anything, Katara hates it. The finger tips and knuckles, hitting the pathways throughout her body. The undignified display of collapsing on the ground. Being cut off from the moon and the ocean, unable to sense anything around her.
Perhaps it's the unexpected generosity from Azula. Perhaps it's the memory of feeling so alive just the previous day.
Katara rebels.
"No."
Azula can't believe it. Forgo the chi-blocking? How stupid does Katara think she is?
"If you think I'm naive enough to make myself vulnerable to your tribal tactics, you're mistaken. Why in the world would I do that? Please."
Something inside Katara's stomach twists, but she has to try. The old woman is already preparing, cracking her knuckles, ready to disable Katara again.
"Let me explain." When that doesn't seem to have any effect on Azula, she adds, "please."
Azula holds up a hand. "Leave us alone."
The old woman bows and retreats.
"The first time you were allowed a full moon, you almost killed me, and everyone in the palace", Azula begins. "I've seen what damage you can do with your… savagery."
"The last time, I saved your life", Katara spits. "In case you forgot. And it's called 'bloodbending'."
Not that she can disagree with it being savagery.
"Whatever you call it, I can't allow you to use it", Azula snaps, but her thoughts are on that fateful night. So that's what she did. She bent my blood to save my life? The last thing she remembers is coughing until everything went black. Then again… a small blood vessel bursting, liquid down the wrong pipe… it's not impossible.
"I won't."
What?
"Say that again", Azula commands.
"I won't use it."
She snorts. "And you expect me to believe that? That you would just hold back on your trump card like that?"
"It's not right", Katara quietly says. "To reach inside someone else's body and control them… it's wrong."
A brief silence.
"I didn't want to learn it", Katara continues. "The first time I was forced to use it, it was to save my friends' lives, and I hated it. I vowed to never use it again."
"But you did", Azula cuts her off. "Clearly, you can't be trusted to keep your word."
"You buried me under this palace for months!", Katara shoots back, voice rising until she's shouting. "You burned me! Every day, your… your torturers poked at me, beat me, cut me, until I could barely remember my name! You treated me like an animal! YOU NEARLY KILLED ME, WORSE THAN KILLED ME!"
She pants, catches her breath. Tries to remain calm.
"That's past now", and the implicit threat – what she is capable of, should Azula provoke her – is clear. "My bending saved your life. But I don't ever want to use it again to control anyone. I won't."
The question escapes Azula's lips before she can stop herself.
"What did you do?"
They both recall the moment at once. Azula, how angry she was. The screaming. The flames at whatever furniture was unfortunate enough to be in sight. Katara, the way she listened to Azula's outburst. The way the princess – Fire Lord, she corrects herself, Azula isn't a princess anymore, hasn't been for years – the way the Fire Lord collapsed. Katara kneeling over her.
"I saved you", Katara simply answers. "Isn't that enough? Or do you need to hear how I bent the fluid from your lungs? Unblocked your blood flow? How I healed your burst blood vessels and cleared your own vomit from your throat?"
Azula waves her off. "Okay, okay. Forget I asked."
It's not just Katara's irritated tone. Her descriptions are thoroughly unsettling to Azula. It's weakness. A weak body for failing like that. A weak mind for reacting to these words like she does. It's unbecoming of the Fire Lord, and if there's anything she loathes, it's falling short of perfection.
"Back to the point. Why should I believe you? Who's to say this isn't some plot to lull me into a false sense of security, so you can work your 'bloodbending' on me tonight?"
"If I wanted you dead, you would be dead."
There is such a force and stone-cold confidence behind Katara's words that Azula knows she means it. And she's right. Katara has had more than enough opportunities to kill Azula.
But to forgo such an incredible power… to Azula, unbound by the moral limitations Katara burdens herself with, it's unthinkable. Then again, that's what those people go for, isn't it? Absurd moralities? A twisted understanding of honour, like Zuzu and his pathetic uncle? Perhaps, Azula wonders, perhaps Katara actually means it. The decision is made on a whim.
"Very well. I don't need to remind you of the consequences. And know that if you're lying to me…"
The implication remains unspoken. Bloodbending or not, even Katara can't go up against the thousands of guards in the palace, the capital, the harbour.
"I'm not."
On her way from the table, Azula opens the door to her entrance hall and dismisses the chi-blocker. The old woman bows and takes her leave.
Afterwards, Azula locks herself in the drawing room. It's not that she's afraid, of course not, but even though the lock would hardly slow Katara down if she really wanted to break in, Azula simply feels safer that way. And either way, she has paperwork to complete, top-secret orders to send out. It's just privacy she wants, really. She spends hours working. There are reports from her spies in the Earth Kingdom to evaluate, mission orders to her special forces, things that need sabotaging, officers that need assassinating. A promotion for Captain Lee, an arrest warrant for treason against Admiral Yu-Chen.
When she finishes and prepares to go to bed, a noise from the sitting room stops her dead in her tracks. There's a draft. A window is open somewhere. And Katara nowhere to be seen. Blue flame dagger in hand, Azula sneaks into the drawing room.
The doors to the balcony are open, and outside…
Katara is deep in meditation when Azula finds her. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, bathed in the moonlight. Azula watches her for a minute, flames long gone out, shivering in her house coat, before she calls attention to herself.
"What, pray tell, are you doing here?"
Azula can't see it, but when Katara opens her eyes, there are tears in her eyes. Even from behind, she can hear how rapt in awe she is.
"I can feel it", Katara whispers. "Tui. It's been so long."
"Who?"
"Tui, the moon spirit", Katara explains. "Together with La, the ocean spirit, they form the foundation of our faith, the original waterbenders. They dance together to create the tides. According to legend, our ancestors saw how the moon pushed and pulled on the ocean, and they learned from it."
Next to her, Azula reluctantly sits down. "I don't think I've ever heard that tale before."
And why would I?
"Why would you? It's not something you'd learn in a Fire Nation school."
Azula shrugs. "It's not so dissimilar from my nation. Our ancestors worshipped a pantheon of gods and spirits, givers of life and powers and bla bla bla, but many millennia ago, the first Fire Lords put an end to that savagery. There are no gods, there is only Agni."
It's Katara's turn to be confused.
"Agni?"
"The sun, our guiding deity. She creates heat from within herself, just like we do. She provides warmth for her children, but she burns, too. Forest fires, droughts, volcanoes – Agni gives, but Agni takes, too. Without her, there can be no life. Without the light it receives from her, the moon wouldn't shine. If she wanted, she could evaporate every water, dry every soil, heat up the air beyond breathing. From Agni we come, and when we die, to Agni we go. We rise when the sun does, and we sleep when it sets. It's the natural order, the only order, and we are her chosen people."
It's very fitting, Katara muses. The sun, the largest star in the sky, and its worshippers, the most bent on power and domination.
"It's funny", she says. "The Air Nomads were the most spiritual of all the peoples, but I don't think they worshipped any specific deity."
Azula raises an eyebrow.
"The original airbenders were the sky bison", Katara explains. "The Air Nomads learned from them, but they didn't worship them like we do Tui and La, or you do Agni. They simply preached a universal respect for all life, spirits, and nature."
Azula huffs. "Now there's something I never needed to know."
"And how much would you know about the Air Nomads? I guess you learned all that nonsense about the airbending army and how bravely your people defeated them."
It comes out exactly as sharp and accusing as Katara means.
Azula rolls her eyes. "Of course not. That's the public version for the people, they don't need to know the details." She swipes a rogue strand of hair out of her face.
"After Avatar Roku's death, Fire Lord Sozin knew the next Avatar would be an airbender. So, naturally, he did the smart thing and pre-emptively wiped them off the map. It's basic strategy, really. The Avatar and his ridiculous ideologues of 'balanace' and 'equality' wouldn't accept Sozin's desire to bring our greatness to the people of the world, so he made sure that wasn't an issue. But, the less the public thinks about Avatars and such, the better. Why bother confusing them?"
"That's still false history!", Katara sputters. "It's no history at all, really! You're just telling me the Fire Nation's history, not the true history of the Air Nomads themselves!"
"It's hardly relevant now", Azula shrugs. "And either way, I don't know it."
"Yeah. And thanks to your ancestors, nobody ever will again."
They sit in silence on the balcony for a while. A slight rain sets in, and Katara effortlessly bends it out of their way. It's almost cozy. The moon shines brighter than ever, or perhaps it just feels that way to Katara as she slips back into meditation, feels the spirits' pull and push, feels every drop of rain, every puddle in the park below. It's the most connected she has felt in a long time, so much more grounded than any other day of the month, yet weightless. Breathing more easy than she has in a long time. Next to her, Azula studies her, sees the tension leave Katara's body and her posture straighten unter the full moon. For a moment, she remembers the raw power Katara holds, given to her by the moon.
It's impressive and intimidating at once.
"I'm cold", Azula eventually says. She means it to come out snarky, but it sounds softer than planned. "I'm going back inside. Come or stay, I don't care."
Katara gets up to follow her, and just before they cross the threshold, she catches Azula's sleeve and holds her back. There's something in her eyes Azula can't place – a calm that wasn't there before, newfound strength, a quiet aura of power, and something else. A faint glow of moonlight, perhaps.
"Azula… thank you."