For the next weeks, Katara doesn't see a lot of Azula. She gets up early, gets ready for the day's agenda, and disappears, often without breakfast. She comes home late in the evenings, tired and wordless, sheds her formal robes, and half the time, goes to bed right away without eating. The rest of the time, she snatches up whatever's left of dinner and locks herself in the study (things must be bad, Katara muses, if Azula willingly uses the study), and broods over paperwork until the moon is high up in the sky. When she comes to bed, she falls asleep immediately, and in her sleep, she clings to Katara and holds on for dear life. More than once, Katara witnesses her nightmares: crying out in her sleep, fighting back against an invisible adversary. After those nights, Azula wakes up looking worse than before, and on the evenings after, she comes home and falls into bed right away instead of working.
After a few days, Katara begins waiting by the door for her, wordlessly helping her take off the pauldrons and taking the formal overgarments from her, and offering a hug and a kiss. Sometimes Azula accepts them, sometimes she doesn't.
After a week, Katara takes Shoku aside and asks her to start bringing a tablet of sandwiches and a bowl of soup instead of Azula's half of the elaborate dinners. She's not sure Azula even notices, but it helps making sure there's food in a form Azula can simply carry into the study with her, making sure Azula eats. When this proves a success, she starts bringing the food to Azula on the occasions where she doesn't take it with her.
(Azula notices, and she feels grateful and weak at once. Grateful for Katara's thoughtfulness, weak for needing to be catered to like this. Somehow, when Katara does it, it's different than when the servants do it.)
Katara herself spends her days in the library – at this point, the guards' escort is purely perfunctory – reading up on the history of the Fire Nation: coups. Revolutions. Fire Lords dethroned. Generals reaching for power. Anything potentially useful, she soaks up, often comes home with a stack of books and returns two days later to return them and take new ones back with her. Unfortunately, the picture they paint is less than reassuring. It seems to take a lot to get the subservient people of the Fire Nation to revolt, but when they do, they are hard to stop. Military coups seem to have failed more often, but mostly attempts by individual usurpers. In times of crisis, the people have accepted a violently-installed new Fire Lord more than once. All in all, the books don't offer much in the way of hope.
The Spring Equinox comes and goes. Katara sits on the balcony and meditates under the moon, prays to Tui for guidance.
One evening, two weeks into Azula's new habit of isolation, Katara knocks on the door of the study when Azula still hasn't come to bed long after midnight.
"Go away."
"Not until you come out."
"I'm working."
Katara squares up, even though Azula can't see her.
"Either you open this door or I'm breaking it down."
She hears steps, and a moment later, the door opens to reveal a seriously pissed Azula.
"What do you want?"
Katara instinctively takes a step back, and Azula's expression softens ever so slightly, out of a guilty feeling she would never admit to.
"I'm worried about you."
"There is no need to", Azula says and attempts to close the door again, but Katara jams her foot in between.
"It's past midnight, Azula. You've been locking yourself in here every night for the last five days. You need to rest."
"I have work to do."
"You can't work if you're dead! Remember what happened last time?"
It's not like Azula needs a reminder. A stressful day spent arguing with the generals. Coming home late in a fit of rage. A cold, a cough, pneumonia perhaps; the slightest physical weakness, coupled with her emotional turmoil and long hours. Near death, if not for Katara and her extraordinary powers and inexplicable kindness. The origin of Azula's debt, the first life she owes Katara.
But right now, her work is too important.
"I'll be fine."
"And if you're not?" There's genuine concern in Katara's voice, and Azula thinks she hears some fear as well. "You could die over that desk and I would never know until it's too late. What then? Will it be worth it for you?"
And then her trump card. It's a dirty trick to play on Azula's feelings like that, but if that's what it takes, then she will do it.
"What will happen to me then?"
She doesn't need to pretend to be scared, pretend that her heart breaks at the thought of what could happen to Azula. She means it. And Azula knows damn well what will hapen to Katara if she's found dead over her work the next morning. It won't matter what killed her.
She sighs.
"What do you want me to do? Sit idly by while my nation falls apart? I don't need to remind you what happens to both of us if I fail."
Katara steps forward and takes Azula's hands into her own.
"Please. Just come to bed. Give it a rest, only for tonight."
Azula looks at her. Looks back at the stack of papers on her desk. Back at Katara, at those insufferable blue eyes full of genuine concern. Sighs.
"Fine."
She allows Katara to lead her out of the study and into the bedroom. She's nowhere near done, there is so much more to do… but even as she sits down in bed next to Katara, she feels how heavy her limbs are, how close her eyes are to falling shut. Katara inches a little closer, extends an unspoken invitation with a glance, and after a moment, Azula gives in and awkwardly leans against her, allows Katara to wrap an arm around her. She's too tired to even think of propriety, strength, or independence when Katara gently rubs over her back.
"Wow, you're tense."
What can Azula say? If anyone has a reason to be tense, it's her. With how much of a struggle the fortification of the front line is, with how much she's had to put out fires lately, reassign troops from vital missions to defence while the enemy creeps closer and closer to home every day, decide which outposts to abandon to reinforce which others, try to wring out more troops, more resources, from any possible source… is it any surprise she's tense?
"Maybe I can help", Katara suggests. "Let me just get some water."
She leaves and returns with a bowl. With a flick of her finger, Azula blows a little flame over the water to warm it up (it doesn't come as effortlessly as it should). She knows the drill by now, and Katara doesn't need to say a word for Azula to shed her overgarments and slide her undertunic off her shoulders while Katara summons some water. The faint glow as it ebbs and flows between her hands is mesmerising.
The moment Katara's hands touch her naked back, she feels like all her remaining strenth, or perhaps just the tension that's been holding upright, the pain that's kept her powering through, leaves her body, and she almost slumps back against Katara. The water pulsates lightly against the skin, and underneath, Katara relaxes stiff muscles, unblocks chi flow, takes pressure off overstimulated nerves, treats inflammation. Restores balance to Azula's energies.
When she is done, the water is cold and Azula feels like an entirely new person. She leans back into the pillows, mumbles a quiet thanks. Katara sits down next to her and picks up the book she was reading before.
"What are you reading?", Azula asks, to fill the silence if nothing else.
"Hmm? Oh, a biography of Fire Lord Zhidao."
"Anything interesting?"
"Very, actually. Right now, I'm in chapter twelve, about ten years into his reign…"
It's kind of nice, Azula decides. A minute into Katara's explanations, she caves to her body and rests her head on Katara's shoulder while Katara tells her about Zhidao's childhood and rise to power, closes her eyes and imagines the Fire Nation hundreds of years ago. It's a very different nation than her own. An entirely different political system, technological challenges that are unimaginable to her, complex cultural issues around the relationship between the palace and the Fire Sages… hearing about someone else's problems, so unlike her own, is actually kind of relaxing…
Katara closes the book and quietly puts it away. Azula is sleeping on her shoulder, and for once, her face looks almost peaceful, free from stress and pain.
She can almost forget whose face it is.
She bends some water from the bowl and extinguishes the candles. Azula slides off her shoulder when Katara lies down, and she gently places her head on the pillows before resting her own. Places a small kiss on her cheek.
"Good night, Azula."
The next evening, Azula doesn't lock the door to the study. Katara doesn't come in, but at midnight, Azula comes out. This time, she brings some of her work to bed with her, but within ten minutes, she's fallen asleep on it, and Katara puts the papers aside and blows out the candles.