A/N: And with that, we're past the halfway point!

Some numbers, the WIP is currently at just under 90k words and I expect to finish around ~110k, probably. Writing chapter 39 right now.

"…and so I am pleased to report that the Ying Chen Fortress is completely under our control."

The generals and admirals applaud dutifully as General Lan-Zeng concludes his report. Capturing an entire outpost from the Earth Kingdom is no small feat, even one that's barely relevant to the war and doesn't move the front line significantly. However, there is just one small issue.

"Could you repeat the casualty count for me, General?"

"Uh… certainly, Your Majesty." He rifles through his papers. "Nine-hundred and fifty-seven."

"Nine-hundred and fifty-seven. And how many did your troops initially number?"

"Two-thousand and five-hundred, Majesty."

"Two-thousand and five-hundred. Tell me, General, do you believe losing nearly two fifths of your troops is an acceptable outcome?"

"…Majesty?"

Azula slams her hand down on the table and watches him flinch.

"Because I", she continues, "believe it is not. I believe you do not possess the qualities needed to lead my troops if you waste half of them on the battlefield."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty", General Shazi interjects, "your father always considered losses like the—"

"I am not my father." The words are deadly calm, and Shazi realises his mistake immediately. Too late. "And need I remind you, if I want to hear your opinion, I will ask for it, is that understood?"

When he opens his mouth, she holds up a finger. "Don't answer. You know your way out of the palace, I believe."

Once he has left, she stands up and begins pacing.

"We have been fighting this war for over a hundred years", she begins. "We have been entrenched and on the defensive in the Western Earth Kingdom for three. I would like to make it clear that burning through thousands of troops like, as the General just kindly reminded us, my father preferred to do, is no longer an option."

She pauses, makes eye contact with them one by one, to make sure her messsage has sunk in.

"Soldiers are our most crucial resource. They are as critical as the ore we melt to forge swords and tanks from. And I regret to inform you that they are not as quickly replenished as they are lost. Sure, we can always draft more, but what then? If we send our entire people to the front, who will tend the fields? Who will mill the grain, who will make the bread you eat? Who will work in the mines, operate the furnaces, swing the hammers?"

She knows it's not something these people usually concern themselves with. That's a problem for other people to figure out; their only problem is turning manpower into conquests and raids. But she is the Fire Lord. Ultimately, it is her problem.

"Colonel Lan-Zeng will oversee the new garrison at Ying Chen. As for the rest of you, I expect you to behave less wastefully with the troops I give you. In the future, I expect that losses be justified with appropriate gains. Dismissed."

When she returns to her rooms, she finds Katara sitting by the window, drawing. Azula can see sketches of the Avatar, Sokka, and…

"Zuzu?" She snorts. "Never thought I'd see his face again. So, how was it like with him? Constant speeches about honour, I imagine?"

She's blowing off steam and they both know it. Nevertheless, Katara feels herself get angry.

"Zuko", she sternly reminds Azula, "is my friend."

"I never thought Zuko could be anyone's friend."

Katara shrugs.

"To be honest? Me neither. When he joined us, I was against it. I didn't trust him, I even threatened to kill him. I never thought I'd call him a friend, but… things change, I guess. People change. Zuko certainly did, and I think… I believe anyone can."

The subtext is hammered home with a club and Azula would need to be a fool to miss it, even though she doesn't know how to respond. Katara picks up on it and graciously changes the subject.

"So, how was your meeting?"

She doesn't want to know, and yet she does. Every time Azula talks about the war, Katara expects to hear about the death of someone she knows, the destruction of a place she's called home. But at the same time, she feels like she has to know. Like it's just punishment for her comfortable position, for waiting out the war as Azula's—with Azula. And she feels a morbid curiosity, like one day she'll hear something that will be useful to her. To a possible escape attempt, she tells herself, even though she hasn't tried to for so long. Can't imagine now, leaving Azula behind.

Azula flops down onto a divan and lets out a decidedly unfirelordly groan of frustration.

"What a bunch of incompetent idiots! This war was supposed to be won three years ago, but these people couldn't even defeat a possum-chicken, let alone an actual army! And who gets the blame? Whose reputation suffers? Mine, of course. The Fire Lord, the commander-in-chief, surely it must be her fault!"

It does fill Katara with hope. Fear for Azula's safety, concern for herself should the Fire Nation lose. But hope for the world. Hope to see her friends again.

"They don't respect me", Azula mutters. "They talk back to me like they never would have to my father. If I didn't discipline them every now and then, Agni knows what they would be doing."

She sighs.

"What I'd give to be rid of all this. No casualty reports. No sunken ships, no lost outposts. At this point, I'd almost prefer Ember Island, and Agni as my witness, I hate that place. The most boring spot in the entire nation."

"I thought it was nice, actually."

Azula raises an eyebrow and Katara curses herself for slipping up.

"How do you—oh, of course. Zuzu", Azula concludes. "He always was sentimental about that place. Took you to our house and told you sob stories?"

"Not really."

Azula throws her head back.

"I wish we could go. Just you and me. No gossipping servants, no insubordinate generals…"

Katara decides to test the waters. "What's stopping us?"

Azula stares her down. "If you think I'm going to let you near any oceans…"

"Scared I would escape?"

"Would you?"

Truthfully, Katara can't promise she wouldn't. It would be so easy. Dive into the water and disappear. She could make it all the way to the Earth Kingdom with a little bit of luck. Just one step into the water and she would be unstoppable. So easy… she'd have to leave Azula behind, but she could go home… Azula or home…

A child could read the conflict on her face. Azula reads the nuances and guesses every thought.

"See?"

Instead of an answer, Katara picks up the paper again. She finishes Zuko and puts the paper aside, draws a new one. Toph. Azula watches her for a couple minutes, brows furrowed, focused on the paper, guiding the pen with more precision than a blade. Eventually, Azula stands up, walks over, looks over Katara's shoulder for a second.

"I'm going to change out of this", she announces.

She traces her finger over Katara's jawline, rests it under her chin, waits for Katara to take the pen off the paper before she tips her head up for a kiss. There's a singular tear on Katara's cheek, and another drips into the kiss when Azula presses her lips to Katara's. It's a feeling she could never tire of, that burning, electrifying warmth inside of her. She wipes Katara's tear away with her fingers.

"I'm sorry", she mumbles into the kiss. "Maybe one day."

It's little consolation. Katara returns to her drawing. When Azula returns, sans ceremonial robes and in much simpler ones, she's finished Toph's armour and begun to detail her hair.

"I'm hungry. We're eating out."

Katara raises an eyebrow. "We are?"

"Why not? I know just the place in the city. They always reserve their best dining room for my family. And after today, I could use a change of scenery."

"No, I mean – we are? You could have asked."

"That's your problem?" Azula raises an eyebrow. "Are you not even a little curious? You've barely left the palace so far."

"Oh yeah? And whose fault is that? It wasn't exactly my decision to be here."

Azula shrugs.

"That was necessary, but point taken, I suppose. I just thought you might like to get out of here for once, but… if you don't want to, just say so. The food is to die for, however."

Before, I didn't want to spend time with her, to be her… what did I call it? Playmate? Entertainment? But I guess now that we're… whatever we are, that's changed. And she's right, I do want to get out a little.

"Fine."

Azula nods, as if she hasn't expected anything else, and it's slightly infuriating. But then again, Katara concedes, it is a sweet idea. As sweet as Azula can get, probably. Dining out, isn't that what couples do? And then, how would I know? Or her?

"We'll take the palanquin", Azula decides. "I'm afraid, unless we want to fuel the palace rumour mill, we'll have to disguise you. A guard's uniform should do fine. That way, you can ride in the palanquin with me without attracting too much attention."

Once again, Katara puts on the armour of the palace guard. This time, Azula helps, ties up the undertunic in the back and lifts the metal plates in place. It's strangely intimate. Just a week ago, a little more perhaps, Katara put the armour on for the first time, expecting nothing more than to reluctantly assist Azula, and returned to the most life-changing night of—my life? No. But the last couple years, perhaps.

When she follows Azula outside, still not used to the heavy armour, she feels like a thousand stares are drilling into her. Surely, her unfamiliarity must give her away, make it blatantly clear who's hiding underneath. The helmet feels suffocating and she takes it off once they've entered the palanquin.

In a different life, Azula muses meanwhile, she might have been the daughter of a noble house. Might even have become my guard. She can't deny that Katara wears the armour well. Knowing who's wearing it, what raw power hides inside the armour she's seen all her life, paints the suit in a whole different light. Without meaning to, she thinks of a sweaty Katara besting her at the dojo, and the thought has an appeal previously entirely unknown to her.

Safely blocked from view inside the palanquin, she reaches out a hand for Katara's, pale skin against gloves. Gives it a reassuring squeeze. Leans over to press a quick kiss to Katara's lips.

"Just follow my lead", she whispers before the doors open. "Stay silent and we'll be okay."

After carrying them through the city, the palanquin bearers set them down outside the restaurant, and Katara hurries to put her helmet back on before the doors open. With a simple gesture, Azula signals the usual guards to remain outside and waves for Katara to follow her.

The owner - or at least Katara assumes he is – spots them right away and hurries through the diners to bow deeply to Azula.

"Welcome, Your Majesty! It is such an honour to once again receive you in my humble establishment!"

"My pleasure, Hai. I'll be in the usual room."

"Certainly, certainly! What would you like to eat, Majesty?"

"A little of everything", Azula decides. "I'll trust you to put together something good. And make it plenty; my guard will be food tasting it for me."

It's a simple yet effective pretense. An excuse for Katara's presence and the portion sizes, the slightest implication of distrust to keep Hai on his toes. The last time Azula was here, it was with her father, but with how things have changed… nobody can be trusted. It can't hurt to make it clear that if she as much as chokes on a fish bone, there will be consequences.

Hai doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest and once again bows deeply.

"At once, Majesty!"

"Thank you", Azula replies in that bored, arrogant tone Katara hates so much. It seems ungrateful. Of course, the people would probably be more freaked out if their Fire Lord suddenly went around saying 'please' and 'thank you', Katara reasons, but still… compared to the manners and kindness she learned at home, Azula's demeanour can't be described as anything but aggressively rude.

A server shows them into a room in the back. Thick sliding doors separate it from the rest of the place, thick enough to immediately drown out the conversation in the main dining room when they close behind them. The walls are covered in expensive-looking tapestries and curtains – brocade, velvet, knit and woven, with golden embroidery showing royal symbols and mythological motifs. Azula sits down on an absurdly large pillow on the floor, one of several placed around a table large enough to feed a family of twenty, and signals for Katara to remain standing.

"Wait until they've brought the food", she whispers.

When half a dozen waiters enter, carrying more food than Katara has ever seen in one place, they find Katara standing to attention behind Azula, word- and motionless. Plate upon plate is placed on the table before the servers silently bow and retreat.

Alone at last.

Katara takes off her helmet and sits down next to Azula. The pillows are probably the most comfortable thing she's ever sat on, at least outside the Royal Palace.

"Enjoy", Azula says once Katara has settled down, and puts the first bite into her mouth. Katara follows suit. The food is delicious, she has to admit. The cuisine of the Fire Nation has really grown on her over the past few years.

"This", she gestures at the room, "is beautiful. And they reserve it just for you?"

Azula nods. "Hai's grandfather built it for Fire Lord Azulon, some sixty years ago."

"Wow", Katara marvels. "And this food… that's some of the best I've ever tasted. This must cost a fortune."

"Oh, we don't pay for it."

Katara nearly spits out her food.

"What do you mean, you don't pay for it?"

"Just that."

"So, what, you just force them to give it to you?"

"Oh, please. Of course not! Hai's family has enjoyed a long relationship with mine. The fact that the Fire Lord eats at his restaurant is the best promotion he could ask for."

Katara can only shake her head.

"That's unbelievable."

Azula sighs and puts her food down.

"That's the way the world works, Katara. The regular people have their place and we have ours. It's how it's been for centuries."

Not how my world works, Azula.

"Everyone in the Fire Nation exists to serve the Fire Lord", Azula explains. "Ever since Fire Lord Zoryu took back power from the nobles, my family has owned everything in the nation. Not directly, of course, but anything we want is ours. There is an unspoken understanding with the most important families that we won't invoke this right, or if absolutely necessary, will compensate them accordingly. But, by and large, what my people own, I own. And they would gladly give it up to me."

"That's hard to believe."

That's bullshit, you mean. Don't think I don't know what you were about to say.

"Is it? Ever since Fire Lord Sozin stripped the Fire Sages of the power they had appropriated from his predecessors, every child in the Fire Nation has been raised to understand that our right to rule is divine and inviolate. The Fire Lord rules as an extension of the natural order and is crowned with Agni's blessing. My will is that of my people. And in return, my family has given them all they own. We've developed new land in the colonies and imported their goods into the homeland. We've financed technological innovations. I protect my people from their enemies."

"Enemies your great-grandfather made", Katara points out, but Azula shrugs it off.

"That's hardly relevant anymore. Even if I wanted, the war wouldn't end today. The hostilities wouldn't cease. The enemies are there, and it's my army that stands between them and my people."

You could end it, Katara thinks, but she decides against saying the thought out loud. She can tell Azula probably knows that's what she's thinking. She doesn't need to point out either that the colonies were taken from their original inhabitants; Azula knows that as well.

Everything you 'provide' for your people, you stole from someone else. The protection, the technological innovations, they wouldn't be necessary without the war. You wouldn't need machines that do the work of ten men if all the men weren't dying for your empire.

But instead of furthering the argument, turning it into a proper fight, Katara focuses on her food. Not here, not now. Azula, keenly aware of the situation, changes the subject instead.

"We used to come here all the time, when I was a child. Before my father ascended to the throne, of course."

Against her will, Katara finds herself interested. Zuko's 'back when our family was happy' comes to mind.

"What was it like?"

Azula shrugs. "I suppose it was nice. I hated it, to be honest, but I guess everybody else loved it. Often, my uncle and cousin would be there, too." Her expression darkens ever so slightly – imperceptible to anyone else, but Katara notices. "Of course, they would all just hover around Zuko. He could do no wrong."

That hardly sounds right.

"I remember, when he was about five, Zuko insisted on demonstrating his bending at the table. Of course, after believing for years Zuko couldn't bend at all, back then my father was delighted whenever his bending came up, so he permitted it." She snorts. "My brother set the table cloth on fire, then his own pillow, and then my mother's dress."

Okay, that's… that's adorable. Katara tries to imagine Zuko as a toddler and can't help but chuckle a little.

"My father was outraged, as he well should have been, but my mother and uncle calmed him down." Azula permits herself the tiniest smile. "Once he got old enough, Zuko always asked me to train with him. I had already had my own tutor for years before he joined the lessons, and Zuzu would show up at my bedroom after hours and ask for help with his exercises."

In a way, it is a fond memory, Azula supposes. A time before her mother pit Zuko against her. Before Uncle got all kooky. When Zuko spent time with her and looked up to her.

"That's so cute", Katara coos. Before Azula can get upset for Katara taking Zuko's side (of course she would), Katara follows it up with an anecdote of her own.

"That reminds me of something my father would tell me. I don't remember it, but supposedly, when I was about three years old, I got so upset about Sokka not wanting to play with me one day, I bent everyone's drinks in his face when I kicked the dinner table." She chuckles, memories passing before her eyes. "Of course, everyone wrote it off as a weird accident until my bending became apparent a few years later."

That is cute, Azula has to admit. It's easier when it's something that happened to someone else, she supposes.

They eat up in silence. Katara gets up first and, on a whim, holds out an arm to pull Azula up, warrior-style. Azula accepts, and they come face to face. Azula notices a little sauce stain on Katara's face and wipes it off before pressing her lips to Katara's.

The helmet comes back on and just like that, Katara becomes just another faceless soldier again. As would be expected of one, she opens the door for Azula, wordlessly walks behind her.

"Hai!", Azula calls over the owner. "It was delicious as always. Please accept my gratitude for your service."

The man bows. "It is I who is grateful for your patronage, Your Majesty."

"That should double his customers for now", Azula remarks once they're inside the palanquin. "I haven't eaten here for years; knowing that he remains the Fire Lord's favourite should secure his income for the foreseeable future."

It's a strange, strange world, Katara thinks.

They arrive at the palace, return to the Fire Lord's chambers. Katara strips out of the uniform, and Azula instructs her to keep it in her room for now (her room that's barely being used any more, now less than ever) in case they'll need it again.

Just before they go to bed, Katara reaches for Azula's hand, turns her around and wraps her arms around her, hands resting on Azula's small back.

"This was… really nice", Katara says, with a sincerity and vulnerability that makes Azula's chest ache. "I guess… thank you."

"Thank you", Azula simply says. And before she can regret it, she leans in, at the same time Katara pulls her closer, and drowns all worries and concerns in Katara's kiss.

A/N: Katara is exercising tremendous amounts of double-think here xD

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