A/N: Courtesy of me forgetting to post the last chapter, you get this one mere hours later. Happy valentines day! Also I found out my writing software has been turning my em dashes into garbled messes
for an unknown amount of time.
On the way back, Azula reads the message, and her face darkens. When they enter the palace, she holds Katara back.
"A crisis meeting of the war council has been called. I'm afraid I'll have to go."
Katara nods. Unwilling to risk any more exposure, Azula settles for a quick squeeze of Katara's hand before hurrying away, and Katara takes a second to compose herself before continuing alone towards their rooms.
When did Azula's rooms become 'our'?
The palace feels larger, the air lighter, when she walks through it alone. It speaks of Azula's trust in her that she allows her to return home without an escort, she supposes. It's a nice change for once. She can walk at her own pace, stop to look at some tapestry or enjoy the view from a window if she feels like it, without being hurried along by soldiers.
It's freeing.
She's almost back at their rooms when she turns a corner and runs into someone. Literally. A rag and a broom go flying, a bucket of water is knocked over, and Katara and a young woman cleaning end up tangled together.
"Shit, I'm sorry—"
"No, no", the young woman hurries to her feet, "it was my fault, Your Grace… I'm so terribly sorry!"
"No, really, I didn't look where I was going", Katara protests. "It's fine, really, it's not your fault."
The servant seems a little nonplussed at that.
"If you say so, Your Grace. Thank you."
She's probably not used to people being nice to her, Katara speculates. I doubt the lords and ladies have any patience for mishaps… or are willing to apologise to the staff.
The woman goes to pick up her bucket. Both her and Katara's clothes are absolutely soaked. No problem.
"Here, let me take care of this", Katara says. With one swift motion, she bends the water out of their clothes and off the floor and manoeuvres it back into the bucket. The servant takes a step back in surprise before recognition dawns on her face.
"Lady Katara! My apologies, I had no idea—"
Katara holds up a hand.
"Please. Just skip the titles, okay? I'm not some lady. Just Katara."
The woman looks around as if she expects a guard to jump out from around the corner if she uses Katara's first name, but when none appears, she nods hesistantly.
"Thank you… Katara."
"No problem."
The woman performs the Fire Nation salute that Katara has gotten so used to seeing, and Katara has already walked a couple metres further, when she hears her name called out again.
"I apologise, but if I may have a minute of your time?" When she nods, the woman continues, "there is something I would like to say… well, about you and Her Majesty the Fire Lord…"
He talked. Katara's stomach drops. The guy from earlier must have talked already.
Azula should have killed him.
She immediately rejects the thought, disgusted at herself, but her shock remains. Fortunately, she appears to have kept a straight enough face, or maybe the woman opposite her just didn't notice.
"It's just something all of us here have noticed… since she's begun spending time with you, Her Lordship has become…", she searches for words, "far be it from me to speak ill of the Fire Lord, long may her reign last, of course, but she has become", her voice becomes a whisper, "more bearable. If I may say so, Miss Katara."
It takes all of Katara's self-control to not burst out laughing, both from relief and at the description of Azula.
"I'm glad to be of help", she replies as seriously as she can. The maid is visibly relieved that her implicit criticism of Azula hasn't earned her a punishment.
"On behalf of all the staff, I would like to thank you", she adds.
"My pleasure."
'More bearable', huh? Good influence?
When Azula returns, much later that evening, 'bearable' is not the word Katara would use to describe her. She enters, slams the doors shut behind her, and hurls her armour in the corner.
"Bad day?"
Azula huffs. "Don't ask."
She knows Katara doesn't want to hear about the war. By now, she's keenly aware of how much Katara struggles with her, how much her role – doing what is necessary for her nation – causes a conflict between Katara's loyalties and feelings. She forces herself to eat dinner, silently, and when the time comes, she goes to bed with her. But when the candles are out and they're under the blankets, the words just burst out of her.
"We're losing."
Already half-asleep, Katara perks up, turns over towards Azula.
"They've destroyed five of our supply depots. The biggest raid in a long time. Maritime assaults from the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom landing troops. We've lost over a thousand troops in one day. Three airships that were docked for resupplies have been captured, we've lost access to two strategic fortifications along the coast, and Water Tribe troops have entered Fire Nation territory for the first time."
She's spent all day deliberating with the war council. The intruders have been beaten back, but this new escalation has left even her most hardened officers rattled. The message is clear: even the homeland isn't untouchable anymore.
"At this rate", Azula whispers, "we're facing defeat in half a year or less. And if that happens…"
She doesn't need to finish the sentence. Despite her sacred position, even the Fire Lord isn't above being deposed. Coups have happened before, and once it becomes clear her leadership might cost them the war, she won't live to see an invasion happening.
"We were supposed to win", she whispers. "The comet was supposed to finalise our victory, deliver the world to us. And now, we have less than we did before. We might lose it all. The military, the nobles, they blame me. My father promised them the world, and I haven't delivered."
Katara has no sympathy for the Fire Nation, none whatsoever, but the sight of a terrified Azula moves even her. She gently reaches out, rests her hand on Azula's cheek. Feels the first tears escape Azula's eyes, even as she tries to fight them down.
"You'll manage", she forces herself to say, even if she doesn't believe it, doesn't want to believe it. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."
Azula shakes her head.
"The wharfs are about to complete the first run of the new Ozai-class battleships", she reasons, "and the new forges on Ash Rose Island and the Razor Cliffs foundry will double our production capabilities. But it won't be enough. Not against what we're facing."
Try as she does not to let them, more tears force their way out. Katara opens her arms, and despite feeling pathetic for it, Azula crawls into her embrace, and just like that, the dam is broken. She cries, fists Katara's robes as she buries her face in them, cries until she feels like she has no more tears left to shed, and then some more, until she's just dry-sobbing into Katara's arms. All the while, Katara holds her, strokes her hair, and struggles with herself.
"I don't know what to do", Azula whispers between tears.
Seeing her like this, it does things to Katara. Twists her emotions until she almost wishes the war were going better (for the Fire Nation), just to see the weight taken off Azula's shoulders. See her smile again. It's sickening, she thinks, the way her heart aches at the thought of Azula defeated.
But she has a duty, and it's not to Azula.
So when Azula eventually unearths her face from Katara's embrace, Katara props herself up on an elbow, locks eyes with her and prays that Azula's broken down state will work in her favour.
"There is another solution."
Azula looks up at her, teary-eyed and hopeful, hoping for a miracle, and it pains Katara to crush that hope.
"Negotiate."
Azula's hopes crumble and she drops her head into the pillow.
"You know I can't."
"Why not?", Katara insists. "A ceasefire, nothing else. Save face. Prevent further losses. If you can protect what's left of your territory, perhaps that will be enough."
"They'll kill me."
"They'll kill you if you lose", Katara harshly counters. "You said it yourself, within half a year, you'll have to surrender or be destroyed. If that means your death, how much worse can it get? At worst, you'll also be overthrown and killed. At best, you won't. Sounds to me like it can only get better."
"Katara, please—"
"You said the nobles aren't happy with you. How happy do you think they'll be when they have to surrender and lose all that money and land? If you can find a compromise that everybody can live with, you might get them on your side!"
"Please", Azula weakly begs. "Just leave it alone. Please. Just tonight."
Feeling that she's pushed far enough for now, Katara relents. So far, Azula's protest, the lack of any threats, the lack of shouting or ordering Katara to drop it, is better than she's hoped for. The seeds are planted.
I will wear you down, she silently vows.
Azula looks up at her with tearful, hopeless eyes and Katara obliges her silent plea. Azula's kiss is salty, and she pulls Katara closer until they're pressed against each other. Her nails dig into Katara's back, her hands tremble with fear and panic, and Katara lets her, wraps her own arms around her, kisses her until they're both ouf of breath. Azula cries into the kiss and against her will, Katara feels herself tearing up as well.
Sleep doesn't come easy that night.
When Azula wakes up, later than intended, Katara has carried breakfast into the bedroom and is sitting in bed, eating and reading a book on the side.
"Morning."
They eat in silence and neither of them brings up the last night. After breakfast, Azula disappears into her dressing room and puts on her official robes, hoists the ceremonial armour over them, tries her best to erase all traces of her breakdown from her face. When she returns, she's outwardly the Fire Lord again, cool, composed, and in control. But inside, she's anything but.
The walk to the door seems almost impossibly far.
She passes Katara, now sitting on the divan and still buried in her book, and pauses. Opens her mouth to say something, thinks better of it. Takes another step forward. Pauses.
"Azula?"
Katara has gotten better at reading her than Azula would like.
"How can I go out there?", she whispers. "How can I be their Fire Lord today?"
Katara stands up and wordlessly puts an arm around Azula.
"I've got nothing left. I'm not strong anymore. Last night… how often have we been through this now? If they'd seen me", seen her sobbing disgracefully in Katara's arms, crying like a baby, seen her pathetic display of weakness, "what would they think of me?"
"I'm not my father", she continues, finally admitting what she's been denying for the past year, finally saying the words Katara has waited to hear. "I will never be my father, I will never live up to his expectations. All my life, I've tried to be strong, but by every measure I believe in, I'm weak. How can I face my people like this?"
She comes dangerously close to crying and ruining her make-up again, uncovering the emotional scars she's painted over so carefully.
"I don't know", Katara admits. "Be yourself."
She turns Azula's face to look at her.
"If you walk out there to face your problems, that's strength. Hiding from them would be the real weakness."
She tiptoes up to press a kiss to Azula's lips.
If I want to save her, I'll have to help her do the only thing she can, Katara thinks once Azula has left. She has nothing left and she needs me, even if she doesn't want to. And I need her to do what's right.
Tomato-carrot and stick.
