A/N: I've had a great day writing, so you can have chapter 12 a little earlier than planned :)
From then on, there is a subtle change in their relationship. It's small, almost imperceptible, but after a few days, Azula realises what it is: now that she's somewhat certain Katara won't just kill her in her sleep if given the chance, she's begun to relax ever so slightly around her. It's not friendly, by any stretch of imagination, but at least it feels like they're no longer sneaking around each other prepared to strike. Clearly, her plan is working: Katara talks to her, even if just in the shortest of biting remarks; Katara eats at her table and sleeps in her chambers, ensnared by the comfort of the palace; Katara has internalised Azula's lessons about the consequences of defiance.
Once again, Azula has done the impossible: she has tamed a wild, uncivilised tribal savage and made her a pet.
It's amazing what you can accomplish when you really put your mind to it, she thinks. It's all about strength and determination.
Strength and determination that, unfortunately, her soldiers seem to lack severely. Civil unrest has broken out in Lee-Gheng Colony, one of the most crucial industrial sites outside the homeland. It fills her with a burning fury, with contempt that far outweighs that she holds for the enemy. How dare they reject the honour I offer them! To serve my nation's march for civilisation, they should gladly die for it!
Someone needs to teach those ungrateful traitors a lesson, and Azula is the one to do it.
She leaves two months before the summer solstice, confident that Katara will remain where she is, docile and complacent as Azula has made her. Hateful, spiteful, vengeful – but not acting on it. And if not… well, the next time she acts out, Azula is gonna have to make good on her threat. After all, a threat is only effective if people can be sure you will see it through.
It takes her almost six weeks to root out every last renegade and instigator in Lee-Gheng. The initial arrests and interrogations alone take half of that time, and clearly the people are in need of a firmer hand and a demonstration of Azula's sincerity. A few public executions, the transfer of half the town's population into a newly-erected labour camp. By the time she leaves, she is secure in the knowledge that the mines and forges will never again want for willing manpower, and once word of her disciplining spreads, nobody within a hundred mile radius will ever question again how lucky they are to be allowed to serve their Fire Lord. She has personally selected a new governor, and made sure the old one will have plenty of time to think on his ineffective leadership while working for the rest of his life to contribute to her nation's glory.
The iron will flow. The hammers will fall. Swords, tanks, airship components will continue to leave the factories (and Agni knows the latter especially is desperately needed).
Order has been forged from chaos. Azula has forged it.
When she returns, the servants await her. Ready hands lift the armour off her shoulders, pull off her boots, wipe the sweat off her face. An army of underlings tends to her wounds, washes and combs her hair, manicures her nails, massages the tension of the past campaign out of her shoulders. A new set of robes is brought, food and drink raised to her from kneeling staff.
They are grateful for her leadership, and they show it by tending to her every wish. It's her right. And if they aren't grateful, they know better than to show it. She is their Fire Lord. They are her subjects. It's the divine order of things.
Bathed and refreshed, Azula returns to her chambers.
Across the table, there are stacks of papers strewn. At first, shhe thinks someone went through her documents, but when she picks one up, she realises they're not hers.
They're drawings.
As she goes through the stacks, she can tell there's a history here. A progression. The stack buried in the middle of the table is crude, janky lines. But the further she sorts through them, the more shape the drawings take. Ba Sing Se. Something that looks like a polar bear dog, more or less. The western air temple, she knows that one well enough to recognise it. Various moon phases.
The next piece she picks up needs no explanation: it's the view from the dining room windows. The sun is setting, and looking out the windows, Azula finds it matches the drawing closely. The one after, a mediocre rendition of the main courtyard. In the corner, Azula thinks she can make out stick figures throwing fire at each other, and it's clear who it's supposed to be.
She puts the paper down.
She finds Katara in the eastern sitting room, practising bending stances. She stands in the doorway, watching, for a moment before Katara notices her.
"They didn't tell me you'd be back already."
Azula raises her eyebrows. "I wasn't aware I needed to run my schedule by you."
Katara doesn't grace that with an answer and continues with her stances.
"Exercising is a little pointless, don't you think?", Azula changes the subject. "It's not like you'll be needing it."
That gets Katara's attention, and she turns to Azula with a glare that could level a building.
"Listen here", Katara hisses, and it's such a change from the quiet, deflated person Azula has gotten used to that she almost takes a step back. "In case you've forgotten, I'm not your little pet. I could kill you right where you stand if I wanted to. So don't patronise me."
It lights a fire inside Azula and her fists clench. Ordinarily, she would kill anyone else for speaking to her like that. Golden cage, she remembers herself. Golden cage.
"I didn't know you draw", she says instead.
"I didn't. It gets boring, being locked up in here."
In service of stripping Katara of her hostility, Azula elects to ignore that last bit.
"They're good. You've picked it up fast."
Katara's 'thanks' is dripping with sarcasm.
"I assume you've helped yourself to supplies from my fath—to my study."
Katara shrugs. "I'm your prisoner, remember? I don't owe you anything, least of all good manners."
So melodramatic. Just like Zuko, Azula thinks as she rolls her eyes.
"Just ask the staff next time. I'd rather you didn't dig around the study; Agni knows that place is ghastly enough. Sometimes I expect my father—"
She catches herself just in time, but Katara picks up on it regardless.
Sometimes I expect my father to still sit at that desk.
"You don't have to be like him, you know", Katara interrupts Azula's brooding. It's the first words she's said to Azula that aren't angry, defiant, or sarcastic. For once, there's almost a… softness? In her voice.
Azula doesn't answer and the words hang in the air between them.
Later, over dinner – Katara has stacked the drawings again after Azula rummaged through them, and taken them to her room, somewhat safe from Azula –, Azula is just chewing on a bite of fried pig chicken when Katara speaks up.
"Those mountains, what are they called?"
They surround the royal capital city and can be seen from almost any part of the palace. Katara has drawn them several times, since there's not much else she can see from the room, and as Azula recalls, over time, her drawings have gotten fairly accurate.
"The ro yuka ridge, the 'hearth'", Azula explains. "This entire city sits in the hi no ken crater, the 'fist of fire'. Our ancestors believed that the gods themselves had burned the crater into the ground, and that these mountains were their fire pit. It's the hearth from which our civilisation developed."
She pauses briefly, and is pleased to see that Katara is following her every word with rapt attention.
"Of course, we shed those primitive beliefs long ago. There are no almighty gods, there is only Agni, and it's much more likely that the crater was formed by volcanic activity. But the capital has remained here for as long as our nation has existed. It's the sacred seat of all Fire Lords past to present. Still, some superstitious fools believe that the mountains are still inhibited by spirits who lure traitors away from the path and into the fiery pits below, even though the volcano has been dormant for centuries."
Azula shrugs.
"It's a useful tale to keep the masses in check. No peasants have any business being in those mountains, anyway. The only way for outsiders into the royal city is as a servant."
That last bit sours it for Katara a little. Listening to Azula explain the mythology behind the mountains, she's almost forgotten who's talking. But of course, Azula would see everything in terms of power and class. She really is her father's daughter, Katara muses. A monster.
A/N: This one's a little more bite-sized, but the next chapter is longer than usual, so it evens out xD
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