They are woken way too early the next morning, before the sunrise, when the palace guards knock on the door of the Fire Lord's rooms. Half-asleep, Azula rushes to the front door to open, while Katara hurries into her own room unseen and changes into more appropriate clothes.
"My apologies for waking you, Highness", Captain Meiyo salutes. "But this is a matter of the utmost urgency. We have found a possible spy."
At first, Azula's blood boils at the thought. But when the guards lead their prisoner into the room, she realises the mistake. The man's eyes look at her with a mix of fear, subservience, confusion, and possibly the tiniest spark of accusation. Azula can't even blame him.
"We caught him sending a message late at night", the captain elaborates. "He wouldn't tell us whom to, about its contents or on whose authority."
Captain Meiyo has done a great job, Azula thinks. Too great.
"Thank you, Captain, but I assure you, this is nothing you need to concern yourself with."
"Highness?"
Azula holds up a hand.
"You are to drop the matter. I'm afraid there is nothing more you need to know. He is free to go."
Meiyo salutes. "As you wish."
After she and the other guards have left, Azula groans and drags herself back to her bedroom. A quick look towards the clock tells her she's slept less than three hours. On the way to bed, she fetches Katara from her room before dropping unceremoniously back into bed.
"What was that all about?"
"Message hawk. Sworn to silence. Guards too careful.", Azula summarises. No two minutes later, she's back asleep.
When they wake up the next time, the sun is well on its way up the sky and breakfast has been left in the dining room for them. The smell of steamed rice, fire flake soup, salted fish with hot sauce, and sweet cakes would be enough to make a dead man rise from the grave for a snack, and it certainly revives Azula.
"Eat up", she advises when she sees Katara listlessly picking apart her food. "We have a lot to do today."
"Mhmhm. What's that?"
"First, we'll be going to the blacksmiths", Azula starts counting. "If you're going to protect me, you'll need something better than the usual armour, something that fits. After that, I've got meetings with the commanders of the Second, Fourth, Eighth and Tenth Fleets and the Second, Fifth, and Seventh through Twelfth Armies. Depending on how cooperative they are, I might need to replace a few of them."
Katara raises an eyebrow. "Full day."
At the thought of it, her appetite is even less, but she tries to eat at least enough to make it through the day. Now that she'll be sharing Azula's schedule, there won't be time for lunch or other amenities.
After breakfast, she puts on her armour, (my armour? When did it become that? – The armour she's worn twice before) and follows Azula to the forges. It's a little walk outside the palace, between the stables, the carriage garages, and other more mundane areas. There's something to being behind the curtain at a play, Katara thinks, and seeing all the machinations that work the magic on stage. This is where the palace city is kept running smoothly, where komodo-rhinos are saddled, carriage wheels replaced, where glass is poured, mortar prepared, where the smooth and manicured hands and complex hairstyles of the palace give way to blisters and calluses, practical short hair for men and women alike, and where the air smells of smoke and manure, rather than perfumes.
The head blacksmith is a quiet man, built like an armadillo bear and silent like a spider snake. Unlike the tailor, he doesn't show any surprise when Azula explains her order; remains as stone-faced as a statue.
A suit of armour, patterned after Azula's own.
More practical, of course; full armour, not just the ceremonial parts. The Fire Lord's personal seal is to be embossed on the chest plate, along with the palace guards' coat of arms. It must be loose and articulated enough to allow agility and movement, but tight enough to protect the wearer entirely; thick enough to withstand even the strongest of swords, yet light enough to be worn all day. Or at least the next best combination thereof that's possible.
The smith sizes Katara up and down.
"When do you want it?"
"As soon as possible", Azula replies.
"Hmmm. Gonna be two days if I put everything else aside."
"Good enough."
After that, the armour Azula borrowed for Katara from the guards is taken off her piece by piece. She's measured, given different armour plates to try on. Half a dozen apprentices carry pieces back and forth, hold them up to her, take them back and bring others. She's made to hold different pieces, too, and all the while, the blacksmith silently takes notes, writes down the weight she can reliably hold up, sketches different shapes of pauldron, chest plate, helmet, and legs. On a whim, Azula borrows the pen and outlines a crude drawing of the shape she wants for the helmet.
After what must surely be two hours, they're done.
"I'll send 'em over when it's done", the smith rumbles. "If that's all?"
"It is."
He performs a small movement that might perhaps imply bowing down.
"Your Highness. Company."
Once they're out of earshot, Katara snorts.
"I'm surprised you let him get away with that."
"Master Xiong has been serving my family for twenty years and he's simply the best there is", Azula answers. "My grandfather recruited him from a small village up north as compensation for owed taxes and he's been here ever since. He's not the most mannered man, but there's no use punishing him; I don't think he's afraid of anything. Replacing him would be difficult, so…", she shrugs, "we've learned to live with it."
"Even your father? I didn't take him for the type to overlook, I don't know, 'dishonourable behaviour' or something."
She doesn't need to be more specific than that.
"Father never came out here himself. Usually, I or one of his servants would relay his orders. If he needed something made, I would make sure the forge sent someone with better manners to him."
"Huh."
That's all she says.
After the forge, she follows Azula to her first meeting. She's never seen the throne room herself, although she's heard about it, and when Azula ignites the fires, it almost leaves her breathless. The darkened room, taller than a mountain, the countless pillars, all lit by the flickering of a sheer endless wall of blue fire.
It's… beautiful.
She stands behind Azula, lets her show her the proper stance: legs spread a little, standing up straight, hands clasped behind her back, looking straight ahead, shoulders kept up. Just before she puts on the helmet, Azula bends down a little for a quick kiss.
Show time, Azula thinks to herself.
"Admiral Kozai!"
A guard leads the admiral into the throne room. She bows before Azula.
"What can I do for you, Highness?"
That's 'Your Highness', Azula thinks.
"I have new orders", She begins. "The Second Fleet will fall back to Yu Dao and drop anchor. You are not to engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary to defend yourself. You are not to pursue any enemy ships or troops. You will inform me of any observations as usual, but unless I order it, all offences are to stop."
The admiral isn't very good at hiding her surprise. Or her contempt for Azula, for that matter.
"Your Highness! Are you su—we are not surrendering, are we?"
"Certainly not", Azula snarls. "But if I hear another word out of you, it will be you who will be surrendering your title, do I make myself clear?"
"Most clear, Highness."
Azula dismisses her.
Kozai is a nasty one. Rebellious. Insubordinate. I should never have promoted her. She makes a mental note to find a suitable replacement at the earliest opportunity.
"Next!"
Admiral Fukushu is ushered in, and the contrast couldn't be more stark. Instead of defiance and contempt, Azula sees fear and uncertainty in her eyes, even as the admiral makes sure to bow as deep as possible and kneels down in front of the throne.
"My Fire Lord, how may I serve you today?"
Suck-up. Katara just barely manages to stifle her laughter behind her helmet.
"The Fourth Fleet will regroup at the Eastern Archipelago. You will call back your raiders and drop anchor to await further instructions. Under no circumstances are you to engage the enemy, barring self-defence and the protection of our borders. Patrol the border until Yeoul River in the north and the Strait of Omashu in the south and report your observations, but you are not to enter enemy waters or pursue any ships, understood?"
If the admiral is surprised, she hides it better than her predecessor. If anything, all Azula can see in her face is relief that she hasn't been summoned for further extortion.
"As you wish, Your Majesty."
And so it goes. Admiral Sung is ordered to anchor his ships from the Ninth Support Fleet in various ports for the time being and coordinate with the Second Fleet for escorts where needed. Admiral Kzito will spread out patrols from the Eighth Fleet between the Western Air Temple and the Northern Cap. The Tenth Fleet under Admiral Yao will continue to monitor Jang Hui Island and the central Mo Ce Sea. The whole time, Katara stands behind Azula, motionless, and watches carefully as the admirals receive their new orders.
After Azula threatens Kozai, none of the others question her orders.
"Commander Lee!"
Lee is a young one. Less than a year ago, Azula has promoted him from captain to commander. But with losses mounting, times are good for career officers. She's read the reports. He's proven himself in the meantime. The moment the guards pull the door open, the man strides into the throne room and kneels down.
"Your Majesty."
"I have an important task for you, Commander. Perform well, and the benefits to your career could be enormous. Fail me, and you will wish you had never put on that uniform. Is that clear?"
"Absolutely, Your Majesty."
"Very good. The first five Ozai-class battleships are days away from leaving the wharfs. I want you to take command of them."
"Me, Your Majesty? I am honoured that you would—"
"I'm sure you are", she cuts him off. "Your assignment is to patrol our borders between Whale Tail Island and Jang Hui Island. You are not to engage the enemy, nor enter their waters. Observe. Report. Hold still."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
It's a fairly low-stakes assignment. The Fourth Fleet already covers half of the area, and the rest of it doesn't see much combat. But this close to Kyoshi Island and Omashu, the new ships will be seen. If need be, Admiral Fukushu will be within reach to assist. It's the ideal proving ground for an eager young commander, the ideal task to prove he can follow orders and keep a cool head at the sight of an easy target.
"These ships", she continues, "once completed, will form the new First Fleet. If your performance meets my expectations, you may very well find yourself posted to the First. Now, go."
You have to train them. Give them a glimpse of the rewards, and make sure they know the price for failure. I would prefer a young mind that can be shaped over an old one any day. Experience can be gathered, but the rigidity of age cannot be unlearned.
The generals are next.
After transferring the Fifth Army from Lord General Shazi to General Yujin and ording the Twelfth Army to dig in and fortify, she reassigns the Seventh Army under Lord General Ghizo to Yu Dao. The Eighth through Eleventh Armies are ordered to retreat to the closest defensible positions, while the Twelfth Army is recalled to fortify Jang Hui Island and the rest of the Eastern Archipelago.
When Azula is done, the sun has set and Katara's legs hurt from standing all day.
"Let's see", Azula calculates once they're back. "The hawks will take two weeks to reach their destinations, perhaps a little less. Two weeks one way, plus however long the other side will need to decide what to do… gathering delegates, reaching the rendezvous point… that should give us about five to six weeks before we can expect any potential negotiations to begin. If they accept my offer at all."
"I'm sure they will", Katara reassures her. "If only to find out what's going on. It's not every day the Fire Lord announces her intent to make peace. They'll come."
"I hope so. If not…"
If not, I don't know what to do.
She barely has time to feel the panic rising up inside her and her chest tighten before Katara, still in armour, is in front of her and takes her hand.
"Hey. I'm sure it'll be fine."
Azula frowns, beginning hyperventilation dying down in her throat.
"How did you…?"
"I know you, okay?" Katara jokingly elbows her. "You're not the only one who knows how to read people."
That may be true, but usually, Azula isn't the one whose emotions are apparently on full display. That Katara can spot her beginning panic this effortlessly, this easily, at the same time or even before Azula herself does… it's comforting.
Wait, what? No, it's terrifying. I can't expose my vulnerabilities like this. That's a weakness I cannot afford.
Katara is comforting.
"You okay?" Katara's soft voice, filled with concern, shakes Azula out of her stupor.
"Fine", she lies.
Katara gives her her best 'sure you are' look, but she knows better than to pry. If Azula wants to let her know, she will. It's a consideration Azula is grateful to be afforded.
They help each other take the armour off.
"How do you think it will go?", Katara asks over dinner. "The negotiations."
Azula thinks on it for a moment.
"If they decide to come, I expect they'll try to figure out what my hidden motive is, which they will no doubt assume I have. From their perspective, they're a year at most away from total victory, so naturally, they will want to achieve the same outcome faster and with less blood. After that, it's hard to predict. It depends on the delegates."
"How so?"
"They will most likely send both military and diplomatic negotiators. If the military delegates take the lead, it will be quite hard to settle on a good compromise. They think about victory, nothing else."
Not that that's a bad thing. It's quite similar to her own world view. But someone needs to relent, and it's not going to be her.
"If the diplomats lead, on the other hand, it should be much simpler. They'll be willing to make concessions so long as the fighting ends. That's what politicians do."
"You're very certain", Katara notes, and Azula shrugs.
"Father schooled me in politics since I was six years old. This is what I was born for. Until now, I imagined myself on the winning side of the table, of course, but nevertheless."
"Wow. That's… that's very cold, Azula."
I know I accused her of being bred as a weapon, but that she would see herself like this… what has that man done to her?
"Is it really? I am the Fire Lord's daughter. Why does a ruler procreate? To continue his lineage and ensure an heir, a successor. By the time I was born, Zuko appeared to be a non-bender, so from the moment of my birth, the expectation to continue our family line and ascend to the throne was on me until he proved he was capable after all. But I was always Father's reserve option, and when Zuko disgraced himself, I became the expected heir again. That was my function all my life, the reason I was so extensively educated about fighting and ruling."
When she doesn't get a response, Azula adds: "It is what I was born to do, Katara. It is."
What am I supposed to say to that?
Eventually, Katara settles for a neutral: "if that's what you believe."
It is, isn't it?
A/N: The comments lately have been absolutely delightful! I love the speculations, and I love how accurate some points are, it's the best reward for trying to foreshadow thoroughly. Thank you so much, and keep 'em coming!