Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This Zutara fanart was drawn by me last year for this fanfic. The Japanese on it says: Even if the world burns down, I'll fall in love with you.

Underneath her thin threadbare futon, worn with several patches, Izumi felt chilled to the bone. Although her Auntie Ty Lee restoked the old hearth only a few minutes earlier, a cool dampness still managed to seep through the thatched roof of their rickety wooden house. Shivering like a leaf, Izumi snuggled closer to the warmth of her aunt laying by her side. A Kyoshi Warrior used to the harshest of conditions, Ty Lee seemed unaffected by the bitter winter night as evidenced by her cheerful smile as she cradled a protective arm around her niece’s head.

“How was your day at school?” Ty Lee whispered, stroking Izumi’s dishevelled ebony hair.

Leaning closer into her aunt’s maternal touch, Izumi nestled deeper into her pillow with an excited grin. “The elders talked about Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara today.”

“What did you learn about them this time?” Ty Lee asked.

Despite how carefree her aunt’s tone was, Izumi caught the edge of hesitation in it. Neither did she miss how Ty Lee’s beaming face, usually so full of energy, appeared to cloud over ever so slightly. She never understood why her aunt, always so quick with a smile or playful quip, seemed unwilling every time to dive into the subject of the Fire Nation’s rulers. And yet, why should she be?

Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara were said to have been celebrated war veterans and master benders of their elements. Though they were opposites in many ways like the fire and water they commanded, tales spoke of the love they shared being as strong as Oma and Shu’s. But any mention of them always seemed to sadden her Auntie Ty Lee, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. It made Izumi question whether there was more to it than the elders knew or chose to reveal.

“Well, it wasn’t a lesson about them at first,” Izumi admitted. “We had initially been learning about the Battle of Caldera City.”

Izumi could still recall the thrilling details the elders had recounted. How the attack was really just a ploy against the Fire Nation forces. How the Bloodbending Queen came like a black shadow on her dragon, unleashing a massive rampage by burning countless buildings and people to ashes. How even though he knew they were no match, Fire Lord Zuko made no attempt to flee on Druk, but instead drew the feared bloodbender and her dragon away towards the ocean.

Izumi forgot that she was only relating a history lesson to her aunt; in that brief moment, she was seeing and living the battle scene, watching the Fire Lord swoop from the midnight skies on his dragon, whose final feat she was narrating. Her mind could envision the two winged beasts shooting fiery breaths at each other as their riders urged them on, holding onto their reins for dear life, as they spiralled downwards.

“But then, I asked Elder Choji about whether Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara could still be alive, and the entire class got sidetracked as a result.”

Ty Lee smiled in spite of herself. It was just like Izumi for her mind to wander off during class. Even so, Ty Lee’s constant worrying over whether or not it was good for her niece to be learning such tricky topics came back to haunt her.

“I could tell the elders were annoyed by the disruption, but they were at least still willing to discuss possibilities with everyone,” Izumi continued. “Auntie Ty Lee, do you think the Fire Lord and Fire Lady are still out there somewhere? They never found the bodies after all.”

“I think that’s enough morbidness for one day,” Ty Lee said, turning over and blowing out the candle by the futon. “Try to get some sleep now, alright?”

The already cold room felt more chilling, Izumi sensing the unspoken grief in her aunt’s words along with the Fire Lord and Fire Lady’s tragic tale. A story of the fleeting nature of happiness in a world that could change in an instant. She couldn’t help but feel the sting of it. She knew her aunt had her own stories to tell—stories of love and loss that no one had ever spoken aloud. Practically burying her face in the crook of Ty Lee’s shoulder, she pulled the duvet over her head. Somehow, she was able to doze off.

It seemed like only minutes had passed before they were both woken by the faint echoes of a pealing gong from outside. The deep resonant alarm only meant one thing on Kyoshi Island, and it was a sound dreaded by all its inhabitants who wished to never hear it. Shouts could be heard followed by the distant rumbles of explosions. Ty Lee needed no other warning, immediately snatching the metal fans from under her pillow and beginning to yank on her armour. The sight made Izumi frozen in place, so used to her aunt being slow and meticulous with putting her Kyoshi Warrior outfit on properly.

“Izumi, come on!” Ty Lee’s voice was sharp as steel with urgency. “We’re under siege.”

“Auntie—”

“Izumi, we have to go!”

Not waiting for a reply, she snatched her niece’s hand and pulled her out the door…to immediately meet the carnage. The acrid smell of smoke hit them at once like a brick wall, as flames licked the village’s wooden structures. Carrying banners bearing a crimson phoenix sigil, the same emblem adorning their soot-black armour, soldiers stormed the main road now littered with gore and destruction.

“Captain Ty Lee! There are too many!” one of the Kyoshi Warriors yelled over the battle cries. Her face was stained with blood with cuts everywhere on her body as she tried to incapacitate soldier after soldier.

Crimson red was the new colour painting the once peaceful island, which had now become a stage for senseless violence. The invaders just seemed to keep coming, slaughtering every man, woman, and child they came upon, the air thick with the unholy stench of death. Izumi let out a scream as she saw one soldier, a firebender, engulf a Kyoshi Warrior with a continuous blast of flames. Only a single animalistic gurgle managed to escape her throat before her blackened body fell like a deadweight, her limbs melted together.

“Let’s go!” Ty Lee said, wrenching Izumi towards the safety of the woods.

The battle was in nobody’s favour yet. The wounded lay in heaps at the sides of the road, moaning and wailing as they tried to hold their intestines in, or lay senseless in their own blood with missing limbs. Some succumbed to a frenzy, on a rampage against anybody standing in their way, while others fought merely for the sake of survival.

A side stitch was forming in Izumi’s abdomen as she struggled to keep up with her aunt’s pace. With her fans, Ty Lee skillfully deflected every attack sent their way. However, her heart dropped into her stomach once what seemed to be a large inky shadow engulfed the entire village. It swooped overhead, blocking out the moon’s luminescent glow before landing amongst the destruction with an earth-shattering roar.

“Shit!” Ty Lee swore.

Looking back towards the dragon, Izumi saw a tall woman dressed from head to toe in black slide off its saddle, her face covered with a veil. The only splash of colour on her was the blue necklace around her throat. She emerged from the flames like an angel of death, raising her tanned brown hands as though they were the spindly limbs of a spider. Her mouth falling open, Izumi watched as immediately a bunch of Kyoshi Warriors seemed to lose all sense of their bodies, dropping their metal fans. Contorted in mid-air as if they were mere puppets, they were thrown into the burning wreckage of the Kyoshi Dojo. From the distance they were flung from, Izumi knew they were goners.

Her stomach twisting into knots, she saw the woman’s head raise in her direction, and though her face was covered, Izumi somehow knew that she was looking straight at her. From all the tales and lessons she heard, there was only one individual Izumi knew to possess such raw power…

But she got no further glimpse of the woman as Ty Lee yanked her into the forest. Though they were concealed by the trees, Ty Lee didn’t slow down until they reached the shrine of Avatar Kyoshi.

“Now, you must stay here until someone comes to get you and says it’s safe, alright?” Ty Lee ordered. “Open the doors to no one unless you recognize their voice.”

“Don’t leave me, Auntie!”

“Izumi—”

“Stay! Please, stay!”

“Izumi, I have to go—”

“No!”

“Izu—”

“No! No, no, no…”

She clung to her aunt’s arm like a vice, unable to keep her eyes from spilling over with tears. The selfish side of Izumi argued that the other Kyoshi Warriors didn’t need their captain’s help. Surely, they could spare her! She and her aunt could stay hidden here together, safe until this was all over. But deep in her heart, Izumi knew her aunt was never one to run away from a fight, especially when others needed her. But what about herself? She needed her aunt more than anybody. Without Auntie Ty Lee…she had nobody.

With grim acceptance, the Kyoshi Warrior whispered, “Izumi…I knew this day would come.”

“W-What?”

“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand. But…even though it hurts, and I knew we’d eventually be faced with something like this. Just remember in your heart that I wouldn’t trade any of the happy moments we’ve shared. Not one. Not for anything.” Ty Lee’s lips quivered as she pressed a quick kiss to Izumi’s forehead. “I don’t regret anything. Not a single moment of it.”

Through clouded tears, Izumi looked up at her aunt with a mixture of fear and love. “Just promise me you’ll be okay.”

Ty Lee didn’t answer right away, unsure whether to give false promises. Instead, she moved aside part of the tatami mat to reveal hidden steps leading down to a separate underground chamber.

With a forced smile, she finally replied, “I’ll be alright, sweetie. And you’ll be safe down here. Have courage.”

Izumi didn’t break eye-contact with Ty Lee until her aunt closed the panel, hiding her from the world above. The sniffles came back as she descended the steps into the vault below. It felt like the walls were pressing in on her with the weight of all her fears. Would she ever see her beloved aunt again? Rubbing her eyes, Izumi tried to distract herself by looking about the room. It was full of relics that once belonged to Avatar Kyoshi, including her warrior garbs and fans. Izumi could almost feel the Avatar’s spiritual presence connected to the artifacts. It lingered in the solemn stillness like an echo.

Getting on her knees and clasping her hands in prayer, Izumi whispered, “Please protect Auntie Ty Lee. Keep her safe.” She paused for a moment, alert for any sign that she had been heard by the former Avatar or the spirits but was disheartened at no indication of any answer.

‘This is hopeless, isn’t it?’ Izumi thought.

After all, even if she and her aunt made it out of this alive, what then? Kyoshi Island, the only home she’d ever known, was no longer a safe haven. Was any place really, what with the war going on?

Unconsciously, Izumi began pleading over and over again, “I wish I could change it all…I wish I could change it all…I wish I could change it all…”

She didn’t know for how long she kept repeating those words. Minutes? Hours? At some point, her mouth had run so dry that all that was coming out was air. Everything around her ceased to exist. She was only conscious of her desperate prayer.

“You are far from home, young one.”

Izumi’s eyes shot open at the sudden and unanticipated voice. It was one she did not recognize, yet at the same time, felt so familiar. Lifting her head, she was met with the sight of a towering figure she saw only in paintings and statues.

“Avatar Kyoshi…” she breathed.

Was this a dream? How could this be possible? Yet, here in the flesh was one of the heroines she had only known in the stories the elders told. Had her prayers reached Avatar Kyoshi after all? Still caught up in the surreal moment, it registered to Izumi that she was no longer in the shrine but rather surrounded by a dense misty jungle. Where was she? How had she gotten here?

‘I’m definitely dreaming,’ Izumi concluded.

“We are in the Spirit World,” Kyoshi said, as if she read the girl’s mind, refuting her assumption. “Few have crossed the mortal realm’s borders even through the deepest of meditations. I know your desire to be an ardent one, child, for you to have done so.”

Taking a deep breath, Izumi fought to keep her voice steady. "Then you must know exactly what I wish for. Please, Avatar Kyoshi, can you help me?”

But Kyoshi shook her head. “I cannot myself but there is a spirit who may be able to. But be warned, he is a dangerous being of ancient cunning. Few dare to meet him, and fewer still survive unscathed. His name is Koh, and only he can provide the answers you seek.”

She stepped closer, her tone sharpening as an indication for Izumi to pay serious attention. “Should you choose to speak with him, you must remember that he will prey on your emotions. If you so much as flinch, he will snatch your face as his trophy.”

Izumi gulped, a bead of perspiration dripping down her brow. She hesitated, but only briefly, swallowing her fear as best she could. “I’ll do it.”

Kyoshi regarded her a moment longer, before giving a solemn nod. With a wave of her fan, the landscape around Izumi melted away, replaced by a dim, cavernous expanse. The air here, damp and filled with an eerie silence, was even colder than when she was shivering in bed earlier. It didn’t take long for her to sense the ancient presence observing her from the shadows.

Koh’s deep slithering voice emerged. “I was wondering when you’d be coming, girl.”

“You’ve been expecting me?” Izumi asked.

“But, of course. I’ve been waiting years for this very day,” was the spirit’s mysterious reply. He crawled forward with a crafty smile on the face he wore. “Yet, you are a fool to think you can change what has already been set in stone.”

“Please tell me if there is a way. Is there even one?”

“Perhaps…” Koh replied, his face shifting to that of an old man’s. “You are evidently willing to find out and not let anything stop you. The real question is: are you also willing to pay the price?”

Izumi tried not to show any reaction. “What is the cost?”

Clearly taking enjoyment in playing mind games, Koh only leered hungrily at her. The silence wore on for a tortuously long time, as his face changed multiple times.

“Simply that the bitter truths you uncover along the way might be ones you regret unearthing,” Koh said at last.

He was keeping something from her. There was no way it could be just that. Or could it? What truths could Koh possibly mean? And if they were as heavy as he claimed them to be, was it worth the risk? Maybe this was a bad idea.

She could not do this. She’d return to her world and simply wait for her aunt or one of the Kyoshi Warriors to fetch her. Surely, they’d have won the battle by now…right?

But then her conscience pricked her. What if they hadn’t? What if all of them were dead, the island sacked and taken by the Bloodbending Queen’s forces? And what of the rest of the world? Were they all to continue this war for a hundred years like the one before?

Izumi was torn both ways by her tumultuous thoughts. She closed her eyes, recalling the happy features of her aunt’s smiling face. No…she couldn’t give up.

“I want to do this,” she said.

Koh let out a sinister laugh. “At last, Nobukazu’s curse is set in motion…”

Having no time to ask what the Face-Stealer meant, Izumi found the darkness around her shifting into an endless void of blinding light. The last thing she heard was Koh’s ominous voice wishing her good luck…

Every raised voice striking like a hammer within his skull, Fire Lord Zuko rubbed his aching temples. The throne room was buzzing with the low hum of discord, a cauldron of fraying tempers and mounting pressure. It was moments like this when he found his Grand Council more of a hassle than a help. For the past couple of hours, they had been primarily debating every facet of the upcoming Elemental Expo amongst other official matters of great importance. However, the discussion had long since sidetracked into accusations and squabbling just like any other meeting.

“Enough!” Zuko finally snapped, his voice cutting through the din like a blade. The hall stilled, save for the flames in front of his throne. He let out a controlled breath, smoke flaring from his nostrils. His uncle’s words echoed in his mind: A ruler must command respect without demanding it.

He turned to the older man seated closest to him, knowing him to be one of the kindest of his advisors. “Grand Secretary Kenzo, please summarize where we stand.”

Ever the picture of composed wisdom, Kenzo gave a reassuring smile, fully aware of Zuko’s frustration. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Kenzo, his Uncle Iroh's brother-in-law, had been a constant presence in Zuko's life at court since his boyhood. Descended from the strong Fujiwara Clan, a cadet branch of the royal family, he was compelled to serve on Ozai's council. Despite this, Kenzo had remained outwardly neutral, secretly being a member of the White Lotus and informing his fellow society members with intelligence from the palace. Aside from his Uncle Iroh, Kenzo was the only other relative Zuko trusted completely.

The Grand Secretary adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. “As we prepare for the Elemental Expo, our key concerns are threefold: financial strain on the royal coffers, unresolved tensions between states, and ensuring security in the face of mounting dissent. For such an unprecedented endeavour as the Expo, it is natural that such a bold event brings concerns.”

“Our biggest affair should be the royal coffers,” Tatsunori, the Royal Treasurer, immediately declared. “Unity itself doesn’t justify indulging this extravagant cost on mere entertainment.”

His jewelled rings gleamed in the firelight as he made a dismissive motion. As one of the Fire Nation's wealthiest lords, he was a miserly man who had once been one of Ozai's most devoted followers. But Zuko, to his great annoyance, required powerful men like Tatsunori on his side. In the end, what saved Tatsunori from being expelled from the Grand Council was his affluent background.

“The royal treasury isn’t bottomless, Your Majesty,” Tatsunori continued. “We could be using our resources to bolster infrastructure rather than silly dancing troupes.”

Haishi Chow, the Minister of Education, bristled. She was an Earth Kingdom-born woman who worked her way up to being on Zuko’s council by passing all the imperial exams that he implemented. By introducing an exam system to promote based on merit rather than family rank or connections, Zuko managed to cut government spending a lot and increase efficiency. And as the first ruler ever to have a multicultural council, Zuko helped radically bolster the Fire Nation’s international relations. Despite strong opposition from nobles who held the same positions for generations, Zuko didn’t regret his choice especially with a woman like Haishi on his side.

Haishi argued, “The Expo isn’t just entertainment. It’s an opportunity to foster understanding, trade, and cultural exchange. The benefits outweigh the cost. The upcoming Elemental Expo has already created jobs and invigorated trade. For the first time in decades, common Fire Nation citizens are engaging with the wider world. You can’t put a price on that.”

“I can, and I do,” Tatsunori countered with a sneer. “You say the benefits outweigh the cost? Well, not if we bankrupt the Crown and state!”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re not here to debate the Expo’s value. It’s happening. Focus on ensuring it succeeds.”

Across the table, Katara offered him a faint sympathetic smile. It was a small thing, but her quiet encouragement was a calm against the storm. Zuko managed a weak smile in return.

The moment was shattered by the entrance of a maid.

“What are you doing in here, woman?” Tatsunori demanded. “Why did the guards let you in? Don’t you know that this is an important meet—”

Iroh’s calm voice interrupted him. “Peace, my lord. I’m sure there’s a good reason.” He gave an encouraging smile to the young servant, who looked terrified from Tatsunori’s reprimanding. “What is it, my dear?”

Giving a hasty bow of her head, the maid answered, “Her Majesty, Fire Lady Mai, requests Princess Katara’s assistance. She is in great discomfort again.”

Katara stood up without question, saying apologetically, “If you’ll excuse me.”

Zuko gave her a reluctant nod. Regretful as he was for losing one supportive friend from the quarrelsome room, his concern for his wife outweighed it.

However, as she left, he caught Tatsunori’s scoff. The doors closing behind Katara, Tatsunori sniffed, “A minister who cannot even stay through a meeting and abandons her post for personal errands—how fitting.”

Hahn smirked. “It does reflect a certain…unreliability.”

Before Zuko could speak, Haru leaned forward. “Careful, Ambassador Hahn. Criticizing a healer, especially one as invaluable as Master Katara, reflects more on you than on her.”

His voice like stone grinding on stone, the Earth Kingdom ambassador then turned to Tatsunori adding, “Even more so as she is juggling both her job as Minister of Social Affairs and healing Fire Lady Mai who is carrying your nation’s future Fire Lord. Or have you forgotten?”

Zuko’s voice was ice. “Has everyone at this table forgotten decorum?”

Hahn inclined his head, though the sarcasm in his smile was unmistakable. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Our sincerest apologies.”

The room threatened to erupt again until Iroh’s soft cough silenced it. “Perhaps,” he began, his tone mild but commanding, “we might return to the matter at hand. It is not in our best interest to squander our time with petty squabbles. Let us perhaps put the topic of the Expo’s financial aspects aside for now and move on to the other details.”

Turning to his former jailkeeper, he said with a smile, “General Ming, you look like you have something you want to say in particular.”

Ming, now General of the entire Fire Nation Army and a quiet authority figure, stood forward to present her report. She was another individual who passed Zuko's imperial exam system, her intelligence unfortunately wasted as an ordinary prison warden throughout the Hundred Year War. Zuko eventually came to respect her for her quick wit and kindness to his uncle when he was imprisoned.

Ming's piercing eyes conveyed the gravity of her announcement. “As the Grand Secretary has previously expressed concerns about international tensions and security, I believe it is vital to advise you that our intelligence has detected rising militarization within the Northern Water Tribe. Their submarine fleet today competes with any navy in the world. This…complicates relations on the seas.”

Hahn crossed his arms, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Complications arise when others cannot keep up.”

Sokka scoffed, “Funny about how you claim others ‘cannot keep up’ when it’s the Southern Water Tribe’s ideas you’re exploiting. Those were my submarine designs you stole!”

Hahn’s eyes narrowed. “Stole? Those were gifted. Or are you implying the Northern Water Tribe cannot innovate?”

“You want to talk innovation?” Sokka shot back. “You’ve been too busy occupying the Southern Water Tribe to—”

“Ambassadors!” Zuko’s voice reverberated through the chamber, silencing both men. He turned to Ming. “Continue.”

“Their growing strength creates instability,” Ming said. “It’s not just the Southern Water Tribe feeling the pressure. Their dominance risks further alienating the Earth Kingdom.”

Haru nodded grimly. “Trade disputes with the Northern Water Tribe are already souring relations. It wouldn’t take much to push things into open hostility.”

The Earth Kingdom had, not too long ago, accused the Northern Water Tribe of hoarding resources critical to global recovery efforts, such as rare Arctic medicinal herbs, unique fish species, and glacial minerals. Resources vital for industries and agriculture across the Earth Kingdom, which was still rebuilding after the war.

In retaliation, the Earth Kingdom imposed severe tariffs on Northern Water Tribe exports, citing “economic fairness.” The Northern Water Tribe, however, viewed these tariffs as unjust and exploitative, designed to weaken their economy and keep them dependent on Earth Kingdom-controlled trade routes. Despite efforts at diplomacy, neither side was willing to compromise.

Haishi sighed. “This is precisely why the Expo matters. If we can foster goodwill—”

“Goodwill hardly calms the people,” Tatsunori snapped.

“No,” came a sharp voice cutting through the room. “But justice does.”

The council fell silent. Even Tatsunori seemed to hold his breath. Everyone turned their heads to the two people who had not spoken the entire time, Ukano and Michi, Mai’s parents. Zuko had to restrain himself from letting out a heavy audible sigh. He knew what was coming next.

Michi met Zuko’s gaze. “Your Majesty, it has been five years since the war ended. The world still demands retribution for the crimes of Ozai and the Princess Azula. How much longer can we delay? With the approach of the Expo, executing them would show the world that the Fire Nation truly repents.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened. This argument again? “Aang spared my father’s life. I won’t undo that decision.”

“And the princess?” Michi pressed. “She’s no longer a child, Your Majesty. She is a dangerous woman who—”

“She’s my sister,” Zuko interrupted. “Her actions were monstrous, yes. But she’s also a victim of our father’s cruelty and manipulation. Executing her won’t bring peace. It’ll just deepen the wounds and perpetuate the cycle of vengeance.”

Michi’s voice was steely. “Your compassion does you credit, Your Majesty. But not everyone shares your principles. Your morality, while admirable, is also dangerously predictable. As a ruler, you must sometimes set it aside for the good of the realm. Sometimes difficult choices are necessary for the greater good.”

Haru spoke up, his voice steady. “If we start executing those we consider dangerous, where does it end? We risk becoming what we claim to oppose.”

Hahn scoffed. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t understand the stakes.”

Sokka’s fist hit the table. “Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” Hahn sneered.

The air in the room grew charged as Sokka’s fists clenched, but Iroh’s calm voice broke in before he could retort. “That’s enough,” the old general said. “The past will not be rewritten here. Fire Lord Zuko, I think it best that we cut this meeting short. It appears that we are all too on edge to stay focused on the task at hand.”

Zuko gave a nod before curtly saying, “Dismissed.”

He, Iroh, and Sokka lingered near the large, ornate doors after the heated council meeting.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Man, does anyone in that room know how to not be rude? It’s like they’re competing for a trophy in passive-aggressive sniping.”

Rubbing his temples, Zuko said, “This Cold War that all the nations are locked in is starting to spiral out of control. I can feel it—tensions rising, alliances cracking… And these council meetings don’t help.”

He recalled how there was a rebellion where some people of the Northern Water Tribe dumped a whole shipment of Earth Kingdom tea in protest of the tariffs. The news made his Uncle Iroh just about cry.

His calm demeanour a soothing contrast to the heated discussion earlier, Iroh gave a warm smile. “Patience, nephew. The burden of leadership is heavy, but it is not one you bear alone.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without people like you, Uncle—and you too, Sokka. You guys, along with Katara, are the ones who actually know me.”

Sokka threw an arm over Zuko’s shoulders. “Hey, anything for you, man.” Then, with a waggish grin, he joked, “Besides, you know I only signed up to be my tribe’s ambassador because Suki’s stationed here.”

“And here I thought it was my magnetic personality,” Zuko joked, smirking.

Kenzo approached with a respectful bow. “Your Majesty, if I may have a word in private?”

Zuko exchanged a glance with Sokka and Iroh, who took the hint by leaving the Fire Lord alone with his Grand Secretary.

Kenzo’s hushed voice was earnest. “I must warn you—be careful not to estrange Lady Michi.”

“Michi? Why would I—”

“With Your Majesty’s permission, may I speak freely?”

“Go ahead.”

Kenzo’s voice lowered even more. “I say this not only as your advisor but also as your uncle. Michi is a formidable ally, but if slighted, she could become a powerful adversary. You must tread carefully. Not just because she and Ukano belong to one of the most influential families in the Fire Nation, but also because of her unwavering loyalty to her daughter—your wife.”

“I know she’s on my side,” Zuko defensively said. “She accepted being my Minister of Justice, didn’t she?”

Kenzo gave a knowing look. “Be that as it may, Lady Michi’s acceptance was driven by necessity, not desire. She despises politics, but she took the position to protect Fire Lady Mai. A nobleman—a known Ozai loyalist—plotted to assassinate your wife to elevate his own daughter to your side on the Dragon Throne.”

“And she didn’t tell me this?” Zuko asked in disbelief.

“She handled it quietly, as is her way. Since then, she has worked tirelessly to root out corruption and protect the realm, but she does not see you as battle-hardened in court matters. Michi and Ukano, for all their disagreements, both think you’re too…idealistic.”

Zuko’s nostrils flared. “I’ve been through enough to know what I’m doing.”

“Your exile kept you away from the worst of the court’s corruption. Even now, you’ve only scratched the surface of the deceit that lingers. I am an old man, Your Majesty. I have lived through treacherous times, and I have barely escaped the schemes of others—the plotting, the lies, the false smiles that hide daggers.”

Zuko sighed. “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, Uncle Kenzo. Thank you.”

With a deep bow, Kenzo departed, leaving Zuko to stand in silence, his expression a mix of frustration and contemplation.

“Are you still feeling uncomfortable?” Katara asked softly, her voice steady but warm. Her hands glowed faintly with healing water as she hovered them over Mai’s swollen belly.

Her dark eyes half-lidded, Mai blinked slowly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Katara,” she murmured. “Not that it would take much to feel better than I have these past few months.” Her tone was dry, but Katara caught the subtle tremor in her voice, betraying her exhaustion.

A tap at the door drew their attention to Zuko, who was peeping warily in. Receiving a beckoning wave from his wife’s hand, he took a seat nearby, his golden eyes never leaving Mai. His presence was a comfort to his wife, Katara knew, even if neither of them said it out loud.

“The baby’s strong,” Katara said, glancing up at Zuko. “Mai’s condition is stable for now. The worst of her discomfort should ease after this.”

Zuko breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thank you, Katara.”

Katara smiled faintly, though his gratitude felt heavy. She knew how much Zuko and Mai had endured to reach this point. The previous miscarriages had devastated them both, leaving scars that Katara could sense even if they rarely spoke of them. This child was their hope, but it came with so much fear.

Mai shifted slightly, her voice breaking the silence. “I know you mean well, Zuko, but you don’t have to hover like that. It’s not as if I’m going to fall apart the moment you look away.”

Zuko straightened, his voice taking on a defensive tone. “I’m just—”

“Worrying,” Mai finished, her lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s sweet, really, but you’re going to give yourself grey hair before the baby even arrives.”

Katara chuckled softly, the warmth of their banter easing the tension in the room. “I think a little grey would suit him,” she teased, earning a rare smirk from Mai and a half-hearted glare from Zuko.

As the glow of her healing faded, Katara sat back, letting the water flow back into the bowl beside her. “That should do for now. Mai, you need to rest as much as possible. Zuko,” she added, fixing him with a firm look, “make sure she listens.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking his side now?”

“I’m taking the baby’s side,” Katara countered. “And your health.”

Allowing Mai to shut her eyes briefly, Katara positioned herself beside Zuko, who had stepped over to the balcony, gazing at the gardens. The pleasant breeze provided a nice respite from the day’s heat. The Fire Lord’s expression was softer now but still lined with worry.

Keeping his voice low so only Katara could hear, Zuko said, “I wanted to thank you again. I know this…isn’t easy for you.”

Katara tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately. With Aang. And everything else. You didn’t have to come here, but you did. Mai and I…we’re lucky to have you.”

Katara crossed her arms, looking out over the lush gardens. “I couldn’t say no, Zuko. You’re my friend. And Mai needed help. It’s as simple as that.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed. “Still. You’ve done more than I could have asked for. I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through these months without you.”

There was a weight to his words that made Katara glance at him. She could see the strain in his posture, the guilt he carried for not being able to protect Mai from everything they had endured. She reached out, touching his arm lightly. “Zuko, you’re doing everything you can. Mai knows that.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “I just…I’m afraid, Katara.”

“And it’s okay to be,” she soothed.

They stood in silence for a bit, both pondering over each other’s comforting words. Katara’s thoughts couldn’t help turning, as they often did, to Aang. For years, they had been inseparable, travelling the world and rebuilding what the war had torn apart. He had always been her beacon of hope, the boy who inspired her with his boundless optimism.

And yet, now that they had settled into peacetime, Katara felt something shifting. She still loved Aang, but the life they shared had begun to feel…narrow. She couldn’t help feeling as though there could be more for her. Aang’s role as the Avatar consumed him, and while Katara admired his dedication, it often left her feeling like an accessory to his greatness rather than a partner.

Katara shook her head. Why should she be feeling any dissatisfaction? She was the Avatar’s girl, a master waterbender, and more recently, Princess of the Southern Water Tribe ever since her father was proclaimed as Chief of the entire tribe. Dating Aang should have made sense. He saved the world, and every hero eventually got the girl, right? Katara played her role of being the caring and dutiful girlfriend, by being by his side no matter where they went, cooking and cleaning just like when they travelled with their friends.

And yet, whenever they travelled, people would throng to him, calling out his name, marvelling at the Avatar’s wisdom. Katara, even with her masterful waterbending and leadership, was frequently consigned to the background. In the rare instances, a few well-meaning admirers might comment, “Oh, and that’s Katara, the Avatar’s girlfriend, isn’t she amazing?” But it was clear that, to many, she was defined by her proximity to Aang, not her own achievements. She was overshadowed by him, relegated to the backseat and only mentioned as an afterthought. Even when she did help, it was Aang who people would praise for it, getting all the credit. Katara was not ignorant of how many people viewed her as inferior, comparing her to Aang and saying that she wasn’t as powerful or wise. And whenever she spoke out in protest, many dismissed her outcries as coming from vanity and a bruised ego—which, Katara begrudgingly resigned, wasn’t entirely wrong. Amidst everyone’s deafening praise of Aang, Katara’s voice was simply drowned out.

She had tried to voice these feelings to Aang multiple times, but he hadn’t understood. “Katara, you’re incredible. Why would you feel like this? You’re a hero too!” he had said once, his tone full of baffled affection.

But it wasn’t about recognition; it was about identity. She had fought so hard to carve out a place for herself in the world, and yet now, she felt like she was disappearing.

Her recent arguments with Aang had only deepened the rift. So, when Zuko wrote to ask for her help with Mai’s condition, Katara had seen it as both an opportunity and an escape. Aang had protested, of course. “Katara, I need you with me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

She had snapped back, uncharacteristically sharp. “Aang, I’ve been by your side for years. Surely you can spare me for a couple of months or so and let me do this! This isn’t just about you.”

The hurt in his eyes had haunted her, but she couldn’t ignore her own needs anymore.

And besides, the role Zuko had also offered her as Minister of Social Affairs had been an unexpected blessing. At first, she worried she wasn’t qualified, but Zuko had been adamant. “Katara, you’ve worked with people from every nation. You understand their struggles and their hopes better than anyone I know.”

The position allowed her to address the lingering wounds of the Hundred Year War in a way she found deeply fulfilling. She spearheaded initiatives to rebuild communities, foster cultural exchanges, and create opportunities for the underprivileged.

Already, she’d shown the people that she cared for them and easily won their hearts for her compassion and tenacity. She brought about the openings of new family-owned shops to help households support themselves in the long term and promote commerce and trade. She’d even been learning about the Fire Nation culture and started picking up some of their dialect. She wasn’t just the Avatar’s girlfriend here; she was Katara, a leader in her own right. Normally, the stuff Katara was doing would have been the Fire Lady’s responsibility, but Mai’s recent health wouldn’t have allowed it.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing, of course. The Fire Nation’s aristocracy bristled at her presence. To them, she was an outsider, a Water Tribe peasant with no place in their halls of power. “A pet project of the Fire Lord,” one noblewoman had sneered at a formal dinner, loud enough for Katara to hear.

Instead of letting the comment rattle her, Katara had smiled coolly and responded, “If by ‘pet project,’ you mean helping the people you’ve neglected for years, then yes, that’s exactly what I am.”

Her position also came with weighty responsibilities. The proposal she and Minister Haishi Chow had crafted to promote intercultural education was one of her proudest achievements, but it had met fierce resistance. The Cold War brewing between the nations made any collaboration fraught. Leaders in the Northern Water Tribe accused her of being a traitor to her people, while conservative Fire Nation officials claimed she was meddling in affairs she didn’t understand.

Still, Katara relished the challenge. For the first time in years, she felt like she was standing on her own two feet, making a tangible difference. The work was exhausting, but it filled a void she hadn’t even realized was there.

The smile that was on Katara’s face in remembrance of these blessings faded once she looked back at Mai and had a second glance at her pallor. Hurrying over, she wiped a cool cloth across Mai's brow, the Fire Lady's pale face contrasting sharply with her raven hair. Despite her calm exterior, Katara could sense Mai's discomfort, though the woman refused to admit it outright.

“You're sure you want to go?” Katara asked gently, her voice tinged with concern. “No one would blame you if you stayed back. They all know how hard this has been.”

Mai’s sharp eyes opened and softened slightly as she looked at Katara. “It’s not about blame. It’s about expectation. Besides,” she said, forcing a faint smirk, “you’ve practically been doing all my work for me and the opening ceremony is for a new hospital. It’s only fitting for a Fire Lady to make an appearance.”

Zuko stepped closer with his characteristic urgency, his golden gaze scanning Mai as if checking for signs of distress. “Are you sure about this, Mai? I don’t want you pushing yourself.”

“Zuko,” Mai replied with exasperation, “I’m pregnant, not porcelain. Katara’s here if anything happens, and I’m not about to collapse from standing around for a couple of hours.”

Katara raised her hands in mock surrender when Zuko’s worried gaze shifted to her. “She’s stable,” she assured him. “I’ll be by her side the whole time.”

The exchange was interrupted by Ty Lee, Sokka, and Suki’s entrance. Sokka was already halfway through a snack he had secretly swiped from the food meant for the upcoming celebratory buffet. “How’s the patient?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

Suki rolled her eyes, swatting at his arm. “Honestly, Sokka, I keep telling you that you’ll choke if you keep doing that.”

Mai arched an eyebrow but said nothing, while Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mai’s fine,” Katara said, smiling despite herself. “But the real question is, how many snacks do you think are left for the hospital opening?”

Sokka pointed dramatically toward the door. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying! If we don’t get going soon, the Fire Nation’s finest finger foods will be gone, and I’m not letting that happen on my watch.”

The group’s laughter eased the tension in the room, but Ty Lee’s hesitant voice brought it back. “Um…is Azula coming too?”

The silence was immediate. All eyes shifted to Zuko, who stiffened. “No,” he said curtly. “She doesn’t want to.”

There was no room for further discussion in his tone, and the group fell quiet again.

Ty Lee gave a small sad smile saying, “It’s okay. I’ll stay here and keep her company.”

Sokka, ever the master of comedic timing, broke it as they headed for the door. “Let’s get a move on, people. The food won’t wait for us forever!”

Crowds pressed closely together in the Western Square of Caldera City, buzzing with lively conversation, as some visitors rose on their toes to get a good view of the ribbon-cutting event for the newly built hospital. Team Avatar had gathered near the stage, sharing stories and laughter. Although the Elemental Expo was set to take place in around three weeks, Aang and Toph decided to arrive early to support Katara and Zuko in the inauguration of the hospital. Despite their extensive correspondence through letters, the depth of their feelings was something that could only be truly conveyed in person.

“It’s good to see you all in one place again,” Sokka said, hugging first Aang and then Toph. “Even the Avatar can’t write letters fast enough to keep up with me.”

“Yeah, cause from what everyone else tells me, your letters are mostly doodles of boomerangs,” Toph quipped, leaning casually against a pillar. “But hey, I’m impressed you didn’t lose the letters I sent.”

“Letters? More like scribbles,” Sokka shot back with a grin.

Aang smiled warmly at the group. “It’s been too long since we’ve all been together like this.”

Katara stood beside Zuko and Mai at the centre of the stage, her heart lightened by the warmth of her friends’ presence. Zuko, in particular, was looking at her with pride. The opening of the hospital had been her idea after all, along with a system of free healthcare for all Fire Nation citizens. It was to be a celebration of progress and unity, a symbol of hope after years of healing from war. Zuko handed her the ceremonial scissors, his fingers brushing hers briefly.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“Always,” she replied, meeting his golden gaze. They moved to the ribbon together, a moment of shared triumph.

But as Katara raised the scissors, a faint cry echoed in her mind. A child’s voice—distant, mournful—filled her ears. She froze, her breath hitching. The sound was achingly familiar, though she couldn’t place why. Her chest tightened with a sadness she couldn’t explain.

“Katara?” Zuko’s voice brought her back. He was watching her, concerned.

Before she could respond, a blinding light split the air above them. Gasps erupted from the crowd as a swirling portal materialized in the sky, glowing with ethereal energy. Wind whipped through the plaza, and everyone shielded their eyes as a small figure tumbled through the portal.

The girl landed on Katara, the impact knocking her into Zuko. The scissors clattered to the ground, forgotten. Katara blinked, startled, as she found herself pressed against Zuko’s chest. Both of them turned crimson as they scrambled to separate.

“Uh…sorry,” Katara muttered, brushing herself off.

“Right,” Zuko replied, looking anywhere but at her.

The girl, meanwhile, pushed herself up, her expression frantic. She looked about her, overwhelmed by the massive crowds around her and the unfamiliar environment, her golden eyes getting wider every second.

“W-Where am I?” she demanded, her voice urgent and shaking.

His boomerang already waving in his hand, Sokka looked more freaked out than her. “D-Did any of you see that?! The sky literally pooped that kid out!”

Katara, Toph, and Zuko smacked their foreheads.

Aang immediately took charge, adopting as gentle and friendly a voice he could with the unknown child. “It’s okay. There’s no need to be scared. What’s your name?”

Gawking once she caught sight of him, the young girl stammered out her reply. “I-Izumi. My name is Izumi. Y-You’re—”

“I’m Aang.”

“Aang…as in Avatar Aang? Then…this isn’t a dream. I’ve really been sent back…I can actually change—”

Her inane ramblings were interrupted by Sokka exclaiming, “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Her voice urgent and shaking, Izumi asked, “This must be the Fire Nation, right? What year is it?”

When she was told, her face paled. However, whatever explanation Sokka and everyone else were impatient for, they certainly hadn’t anticipated the words Izumi said next.

“I need to warn you—another war is coming in twenty-five years.”

One could almost hear a pin drop. Then, the murmurs started to rise in disbelief, most of them with a mocking tone.

“Izumi,” Aang said gently, stepping forward, “you must be mistaken. The nations are working toward peace—”

“She’s not lying,” Toph interrupted, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. The public square fell silent once more. Even without raising her voice, the earthbender’s words carried absolute conviction.

Sokka muttered, “Great. Just what we need—another ominous prophecy.”

Her maternal instincts overriding her confusion, Katara knelt until she was eye-level with Izumi. “How do you know about this war?”

Izumi’s hands trembled as she clutched Katara’s arm. “Because I come from the future. I saw it with my own eyes. The one who starts the war…they call her the Bloodbending Queen. And if she isn’t stopped, she’ll destroy everything.”

The words Katara planned to say felt like sand in her mouth at the mention of the dark art. “Why are you telling us this? Why come to us?”

Sokka gestured wildly to Aang. “Hello? Almighty peacemaking Avatar here? He’ll save the day, yada yada yada.”

But Izumi shook her head. She hesitated, her gaze darting to Zuko and Katara. “No…the resistance against the Bloodbending Queen isn’t led by the Avatar. It’s led by Fire Lord Zuko…and Fire Lady Katara.”

Chapter Text

Excerpt from the eye-witness account of Great Fire Sage Shyu during the Battle of Caldera City (139 AG):

(Editor’s note: Though this text miraculously survived the battle, parts of it were found damaged. As a result, we are unfortunately left with multiple gaps in terms of information, and thus why the second part of this copy remains incomplete.)

On the eve of the QiXi Festival, empowered by the full moon, the Bloodbending Queen and her dragon descended upon Caldera City with a fleet of three hundred ships full of enemy soldiers. Knowing it to be the only way of luring the Fire Lord from his Royal Guard and out in the open, she razed three-quarters of the capital in dragon-fire as her forces massacred, raped, and pillaged its citizens in a senseless bloodbath. Her strategy worked; against protests from his Royal Guard, Fire Lord Zuko took flight on Druk—a fatal choice that would alter the war’s course forever…

…where the Fire Lord and Bloodbending Queen were engaged in battle. ...proved to be too late… With a cry…got the fallen monarch’s revenge… From that fateful night onwards…left with no leader…

Despite the tense atmosphere and her own uncertainty, Izumi couldn’t help being momentarily amazed at the wonders around her. She had to keep pinching her arm to remind herself that this wasn’t a dream. Apart from the mind-boggling time-travel and whatnot, to think that she, a simple Earth Kingdom girl from a small unimportant village, would find herself in the Fire Nation capital. And not just anywhere but in the royal palace at that! She, a child who’d never even stepped foot out of Kyoshi Island.

Her eyes kept darting everywhere, breathing it all in. Currently, she and Team Avatar, along with General Iroh, were in what had apparently been the former Agni Kai chamber. After he had been made Fire Lord, Zuko had made a point of never revisiting the site of his past humiliation until it had been remodelled. What was once a bloody fighting arena was now repurposed as a regular courtyard with the giant floor painted as a map of the four nations. Walking over to the coloured depiction of Kyoshi Island, Izumi’s sense of wonderment was suddenly replaced by overwhelming homesickness.

That sad feeling was just as quickly broken by an arm being casually thrown over her small shoulders. Her pale green eyes peering at the girl, Toph gave Izumi a smug smirk. “So, tell me, kid,” the earthbender began, “I bet I’m even more super powerful and amazing in the future, right? And of course, I’m still the best earthbender too, eh?”

Izumi blinked, slightly taken aback. “I…actually don’t know.”

Toph pursed her lips, no longer impressed. “So, you know that a huge-ass war is gonna happen, yet you don’t even know about the great, mighty, cool, and awesome—”

“Okay, Toph, we get it,” Zuko interrupted.

“What about me?” Sokka eagerly asked next. “Oh yeah, and my boomerang—ouch!” A swift jab to the stomach knocked the wind out of him before he could go further.

“I wish I could tell you guys more. But I’ve never left Kyoshi Island before. The little information that I do know about the war is just what the elders taught me at school—and even what they knew was limited. We’ve barely had contact with the outside world since the war started because we closed off our borders,” Izumi said.

“So then, what do you know?” Aang asked.

The fearful part of him didn’t want to hear the answer. His entire being prayed to the spirits that none of this was true. It couldn’t be. Katara was his forever girl. They were destined to be together. Even Madam Wu had hinted so; at least, he thought she did. And yet, Izumi popped out of nowhere—from the literal skies—claiming Katara was to marry Zuko? His heart was as heavy as lead at the thought. And not just that, but supposedly the two of them were the leaders of the future resistance. Not himself. Aang’s blood ran colder than it already was. What even was his fate in the time to come?

Suki suggested, “Maybe first start telling us about this ‘Bloodbending Queen’. It might give us a sense of what kind of potential enemy we might be dealing with.”

“Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. Though it’s widely believed that she might be from the Northern Water Tribe because she wears a choker like that one. Not exactly the same, but similar.” Izumi pointed to the necklace around Katara’s throat, quickly dropping her finger once she remembered how rude the gesture was.

Unaware of the colour leaving Katara’s cheeks, she continued, “No one ever saw her face; she always wore a veil. She was wearing it when she attacked Kyoshi Island.” A lump formed in Izumi’s throat at the memory. “It’s believed that the only known person to have fought her directly and saw her face was…” Izumi’s eyes nervously shifted to Zuko.

“Me,” Zuko said quietly in realization.

Izumi nodded. “The Battle of Caldera City is said to be the turning point of the war, when the Bloodbending Queen and Fire Lord Zuko engaged in combat on their dragons for the final time. But then…”

“But then?” Zuko could somehow already guess the rest.

“…Fire Lord Zuko was lost in action. The Bloodbending Queen’s dragon closed its jaws around Druk’s neck, killing him instantly. Both Fire Lord Zuko and Druk plummeted into the ocean. No one found the bodies.”

Iroh worriedly glanced at Katara who had silently turned away from the group. “And the future Fire Lady?” he gently asked.

“She disappeared without a trace even before then,” Izumi said.

A chill went through the courtyard at her words, despite the warmth emanating from the golden braziers. Zuko’s teeth set in a hard clench, the wrinkles of his scar creasing tighter together with his drawn brow. One by one, he looked from his uncle to each of his friends, all as silent as stone. The only expression he was unable to read was Katara’s, the waterbender still standing apart from them with her back turned.

Katara let out a shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around herself, a heavy weight constricting her chest. Her thoughts were an entangled disarray shrouded by the gravity of what Izumi said. She had found it hard to concentrate on the conversation, her ears still ringing with the whispers of the crowd from earlier. They might as well have been shouting.

She had felt the weight of all the public’s stares as if they were piercing through the palanquin’s curtains once she and her friends left the Western Square. She heard her name murmured everywhere in the streets and within the palace. Nobles and commoners alike, the tone of their voices was mixed with curiosity, awe, and—she could hear it loud and clear—judgment. Though no one dared approach her, their scrutiny was suffocating. Katara knew, like any other scandalous gossip, the news was already on its way to reaching the farthest corners of the world. And if not, at least every resident in Caldera City had gone to sleep talking late into the night about it.

She recalled how Mai had returned to her chambers without a single word or glance at anyone except her maids whose assistance she requested over Katara’s. Mai’s decline of her help had left a sour taste in Katara’s mouth.

Fire Lady Katara. The title felt alien, unwelcome. How could she bear such a role when she was already questioning her place in the world as it was? Her mind refused to stop repeating her supposed future position.

Fire Lady Katara.

Leader in a looming war.

Disappeared.

Out of nervous habit, Katara’s trembling fingers compulsively fiddled with the smooth stone of her mother’s necklace. What did any of this mean? There were no concrete answers to the multitude of questions flying through her head. Nothing but a distressed anxiety that refused to abate.

A quiet voice startled her from her thoughts. “Katara?”

She turned to see Zuko, his scarred face full of concern. He stepped closer, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. “Are you alri—”

“I’m fine.”

Zuko frowned, knowing her answer to be too quick to be true, but he didn’t press any further. “We’ll figure this out,” he said simply. “Together.”

Katara nodded, though her heart still felt heavy. Like a magnet, her gaze was drawn to Aang’s, and she internally cringed at the way he was staring at her and Zuko.

Sokka broke the silence saying, “Whelp, knowing all that, I’m sure we’ll all sleep well tonight.” Despite his sarcastic humour, he couldn’t help letting out a nervous chuckle, perspiration beading upon his forehead.

Izumi’s lips pressed tightly together. Well, now they knew. The most important part of her mission was done. But now what? Just because she had told them of the impending war didn’t mean that they’d know right away how to avoid it. Was it even possible? There were still so many things left in the dark. Izumi honestly didn’t even know how the war started aside from the Bloodbending Queen just coming out of nowhere.

So, what steps could they possibly take? Izumi bit her lip. She really hadn’t thought this through.

She was thunderstruck with another unsettling thought. If fate was on their side and they did somehow find the answers, what then? Would she be able to get back to her own timeline? Or was she stuck here forever? How would she return? What if time was still moving back where she belonged? And if Auntie Ty Lee had survived and come back for her…

‘You did this for the greater good…’ Izumi reminded herself. ‘It’s too late for regrets. You can still do this!’

But even her own reassurances did little to prevent the tears from springing to her eyes. If only Auntie Ty Lee were here…

“There you all are! I was looking for y’all. Heard there was some kind of commotion.”

Izumi’s head jolted up at the familiar cheerful voice. It sounded younger than the one she was normally used to, but it was unmistakable. No way, it couldn’t be…

“Auntie Ty Lee…” she breathed, making everyone turn with even wider eyes.

Her aunt looked exactly as she remembered with her signature braid, and Kyoshi Warrior makeup and uniform. The only difference was Ty Lee’s youthful appearance wasn’t marred by sparse grey hairs caused by stress.

Ty Lee froze for a moment, her eyes darting to the others for an explanation. “Am I missing something here? And who’s the little one exactly and why is her aura so…pink and grey at the same time?”

“I’m guessing you are already familiar with Miss. Ty Lee in the future?” Iroh asked Izumi.

Still unable to take her eyes off the younger version of her aunt, Izumi nodded. “Auntie Ty Lee was the only guardian I’d ever known. As far as I’m aware, I never had any parents. She was the one who raised me, protected me, taught me.”

Ty Lee couldn’t help being slightly touched, despite her confusion which was put to rest once the others filled her in on this unexpected development. To the surprise of absolutely no one, her acceptance of the bizarre revelation was easy and natural.

“No wonder everyone’s auras are looking so black,” Ty Lee said. Then, she latched her arm around Izumi’s with a grin. “So, tell me more about this ‘future me’.”

Already, she began rapidly conversing with the little girl as though they were old friends. Yet, Ty Lee’s cheerful disposition couldn’t be shared by the others, their frustration and fear mounting over their lack of information.

His voice calm and measured, Iroh finally said, “It is perhaps best that we all get some sleep. It is late and, with a matter of great importance as this, our minds cannot think clearly. We can discuss more in the morning after some well-needed rest. The answers we seek may come more easily then.”

Letting out a loud yawn, Sokka agreed, “Yup, time to hit the sack.”

“Aang, Toph, rooms in the guest wing have already been prepared for you,” Zuko said.

Toph crossed her arms. “Mine isn’t located anywhere near Sokka’s or Suki’s, right?”

“No.”

Sokka began, “What’s wrong with—”

“I don’t know about you, Sokka, but I know from experience during our travels, that you and Suki aren’t as quiet at night as you may think,” Toph grunted. “Even with my feet lifted off the ground, it still doesn’t mean that I can’t hear you both.”

An awkward pause lingered for at least a minute with everyone’s faces burning bright red but not as much as the guilty couple.

Zuko let out a cough. “Ty Lee, could you show Izumi to a room as well, please?”

“Of course,” the Kyoshi Warrior said.

Zuko then whispered, “Since she seems most comfortable with you, could you keep an eye on her for the duration of her stay—however long that may be?”

“Got it.” Ty Lee gave him a wink.

Everyone began going their separate ways until only Katara and Aang were left standing in the courtyard. It was the first time they had been alone together since Katara left him to aid Zuko and Mai. The word “awkward” felt like an understatement. Trying to keep a composed posture with her back straight, Katara finally raised her eyes only to find Aang not even looking at her.

“Aang—”

“I think I need some air,” he softly said. Without another word, he opened his glider before flying upwards out of the courtyard and into the night sky.

Zuko tapped on the door of Mai’s bedchamber before entering. He found his wife sitting up against her pillows, her face still as stoic as ever. However, Zuko had known her long enough to detect any slight difference. And he could see how tightly her hands were clasped in her lap—a rare crack in her usual mask of indifference. Mai didn’t even turn her head at his entrance. Not a good sign.

Taking a deep breath, Zuko cautiously went over, unsure of how to start. “Hey…I didn’t find you in our room so I thought you might be here.” He sat on the edge of the large bed, careful to leave some space between them. “I understand if you found today…overwhelming. I mean, it’s not every day someone from the future plops down from the sky and announces all…that.”

Mai’s gaze met his, her eyes sharp yet steady. “Overwhelming is barely a way to describe it,” she replied evenly. “It’s also not every day you’re told your husband and your midwife end up married someday, and fight in yet another war.”

Zuko winced, her brutal honesty slamming into him like one of Toph’s boulders. “We don’t know if any of that will even happen,” he argued. “Izumi might be mistaken, or maybe the future can still change.”

Mai’s expression remained as impassive as ever. “Maybe. But that doesn’t make it any easier to hear.”

Hesitantly, Zuko took her hands in his. “I know. And…I’m sorry, Mai.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was out of your control.”

“Yes, but…somehow I just know that after something like this, it isn’t going to get any easier.”

Mai’s lips pressed thinly together. She let out a slow exhale and lightly squeezed Zuko’s hands. “I’m not angry at you, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t upset at all.”

Even though it stung, Zuko was grateful for her honesty. Five years ago, when they were still just dating, Mai would’ve said nothing and just bottled her feelings up behind an apathetic façade, silently stewing. But they had both grown over time, emotionally and mentally and helped each other become better people. In Zuko, Mai found someone who slowly helped her open up and allowed her to be who she truly was. In Mai, Zuko found someone he could always rely on to be pragmatic in the absence of his Uncle Iroh. Though their relationship was hardly as lovey-dovey as Sokka and Suki’s (not that Zuko and Mai would want it to be in the first place), it was steadfast and true, and that was more than the two of them could ask for. Fate had been kind to their marriage…until this sudden disruption.

“I understand,” Zuko whispered.

A shadow fell over Mai’s eyes as she searched his face. “There’s something else…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve seen the way you used to look at Katara when we were younger. The way your face always lit up whenever you’d get a letter from her.”

Zuko’s breath caught, his throat feeling like cotton was stuffed in it. He tore his gaze away, unable to look at Mai anymore.

Of course, she’d notice. Of course, she’d know.

Agonizing fire. Like a comet’s blazing heat or the crackling intensity of a battle. Just like the one he fought himself not too long ago. It raked like the claws of a dragon across his chest, pulling him out of the blessed state of unconsciousness. Zuko let out an agonized cry, every instinct in him wanting to clutch at his torso. Yet, his arms felt like lead at his sides, unable to have the strength to move.

Then came the coolness. Gentle and soft as a whisper, seeping into his skin to the source of his pain.

“Ssh, stay still, Zuko…”

Zuko blinked wearily, his hazy vision distinguishing a blur of blue above him. His eyes eventually focused on the form of Katara, her glowing hands carefully working over his injured chest, now wrapped in gauze bandages.

“Katara.”

“You shouldn’t move around too much,” she said. “While I’ve managed to heal the severity of your burns, your internal organs still need to recover. Azula…shot you pretty bad.”

“How long have I been out?” Zuko croaked.

Breathing was such a trial; it literally felt like his lungs had been roasted on a spit. The last thing he could remember was ordering Azula’s confinement until the world began spinning before his eyes. He vaguely recalled hearing Katara fearfully calling his name before everything went black.

“Three days,” was the reply.

At Zuko’s inquiry, Katara filled him in on all the events that had happened. But though she kept her voice steady throughout, Zuko heard the catch in it. After a pregnant pause, she whispered, “Why did you do it, Zuko? How could you just throw your very life so carelessly like that?”

Zuko stared into her sad and reproachful eyes. “Call it…instinct, I guess?” he lamely said, trying to pass it off as a joke.

But Katara’s frown only deepened. “You could have died!”

“Yet, I didn’t.” In his mind, he added, ‘You saved me.’

“That isn’t the point. The Fire Nation—the world—needs you, just as much as it needs Aang. What would’ve happened if you had died?”

“And what about you?”

The waterbender was caught off guard. “What?”

“You’re needed as well. By your family. Your friends. Your tribe. And yes, even the world too. You played just as crucial a role and you still do. Just think about it…you’re the backbone of our group and without you, us being on the road to peace wouldn’t have been possible. Agni, Aang would probably be still stuck in that iceberg! So, while you may not be the Avatar nor a monarch, your life is just as important too, Katara.”

“Zuko…”

“I knew what I was doing when I jumped in front of that lightning bolt. I made my choice…and I’d do it again because…” Zuko hesitated, unsure of how to finish. “…you’re my friend.”

Friend…somehow it felt too casual a word to describe his relationship with Katara and what he felt for her. Looking back, Zuko was still amazed at how far they had come.

Though their first encounters with each other were less than amiable, there had still been something about Katara that drew him in. Was it her unyielding defiance? Her fierce determination? Her protectiveness over her loved ones? Her relentless power that seemed to grow stronger every passing moment? What was it that really captivated his attention? And when was it?

Zuko thought back on all the particular memories of her that stuck in his mind. He remembered her prowess at the North Pole when they had duelled. How she felt like his first real opponent. Never had he fought head-to-head against a bender so powerful, her skill catching him off guard. She was like a raging blizzard made flesh, a tsunami with the force of the unforgiving sea. Despite his frustration at the time, she had amazed him.

Then, there was their imprisonment in the crystal catacombs.

Zuko swallowed thickly, the memory cutting through him like one of his dao swords. His ears could still hear the raw pain in her voice as she wept over her mother’s death. After this poignant revelation, all the irritation he had been feeling vanished replaced by pitiful understanding. The girl before him was just a sad motherless individual just like himself. And for the first time in years, before he realized it, he found himself being just as vulnerable with her. They allowed each other to see behind the masks they wore—the scarred face of the banished prince and the fierce protective waterbender—both sad and burdened with their hidden struggles. Even her natural compassion led her to offer healing the mark of his shame.

But then Aang turned up and they ran off together. Part of Zuko at the time had wished she’d turned around and begged him to come with them. Yet, she just…left. Was that why he made the biggest regret of his life?

Whatever the case, he had ruined it all. He had betrayed her. Chosen over her a sister and a father who both cared as little for him as if he were dirt.

Zuko had not blamed her righteous anger. Though he desperately wanted to earn her forgiveness, he knew that no matter what efforts he took to do so, it would never make up for the wrong he did in the past.

Yet, try he did. He had spent so long attempting to make things right.

And even despite her resentment, Katara was still able to look past it to an extent. Giving him an equal portion of food during meals, rather than making him scoop it up himself or even withholding it from him. Pulling him to safety when he was falling through the air after battling Azula at the Western Air Temple.

But if Zuko had to pinpoint only one pivotal moment that changed between them, then it would definitely be when they hunted down Yon Rha. Unlike Aang and Sokka, he hadn’t tried telling her what to do, hadn’t tried stopping her from making a choice only she could make. Instead, he stood beside her every step of the way, witnessing her grief and rage in their rawest forms. He had helped her find closure.

And somehow, in the aftermath, they had found each other.

Their time on Ember Island came rushing back to him—helping Katara cook meals, along with all the other chores nobody else wanted to do; nights spent together sitting on the roof, whispering and trying to ignore the sounds coming from Sokka or Suki’s room. They had laughed together, teased each other, talked about every possible topic, and even just sat in comfortable silence. He had never known it was possible to feel so light, so at ease with someone.

And now…

“Thank you, Zuko…” Katara whispered.

His arm finally finding the strength to move, Zuko placed his hand over Katara’s. “You’re welcome.”

A silence of mutual companionship fell between them as Katara continued to heal Zuko. “Does it still hurt?” she asked.

“Not as much as before.”

Katara smiled and the sight of her happiness made something inside Zuko seize up for some odd reason. Going quiet again, he then asked, “So…what now?”

“Our friends were discussing maybe after your coronation that we go spend some time in Ba Sing Se at your uncle’s tea shop. Apparently, he has a new recipe he wants us to try.”

Zuko let out a chortle. “Sounds like a plan.”

Then, with a blush gracing her cheeks, Katara added, “And…I’m thinking of officially reciprocating Aang’s feelings.”

His chest tightened, making pain spread like wildfire all over it again. “Y-You think so?”

“Yeah. I think he deserves a chance. Aang has always been such a sweet, kind, and fun boy. We’ve spent our entire journey together, through thick and thin, no matter what.” The smile on Katara’s face widened from ear to ear. “And…I think I could be happy with him.”

Zuko stared into the depthless blue of her eyes as if to commit it to memory. She was smiling. She was happy.

And that was all that mattered.

So, he forced a small nod, swallowing the nagging ache in his chest that refused to go away. “Aang’s a good guy,” he managed to get out. “He’ll treat you well.”

Relief in her face, Katara beamed at him. “You really think so?”

The smile Zuko offered in return was a weak one. “Yeah, I do.”

Slowly, he removed his hand from hers, somehow feeling like it was a crime to even touch her. It felt like all those happy memories…those days and nights of them on Ember Island…would never be the same again and were now coming to an end.

He wanted to continue being the one she’d laugh with. To be the one to comfort her and dry her tears. To be the one she’d go to because they understood each other in ways nobody else did.

And while Zuko was certain none of that would stop and that he and Katara would remain firm friends, it was Aang who would be her special person.

The selfish part of Zuko wanted to take what he said back. To tell Katara that he didn’t want her to be with Aang, though he still didn’t understand why. To beg her to stay with him.

But how could he when it was the happiest he had ever seen her be? She had never looked at him that way, much as he wished her to.  

So, he had said nothing.

When Mai kissed him before his coronation, he had said nothing.

Even when he stopped in his tracks at the sight of Katara kissing Aang at the Jasmine Dragon, he had said nothing.

Slowly, one by one, they had all gone their separate ways. His Uncle Iroh remained in Ba Sing Se, occupied with the joys of running his tea shop. Sokka and Suki spent their time going back and forth between the Southern Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island, aiding in recovery efforts. Toph talked of plans to start a metalbending school. And Aang and Katara continued to travel the world together.

Leaving him by himself in Caldera City with only a bunch of nobles and advisors who hid knives behind their backs and friendly smiles.

Well, at least he had Mai. But how could he explain to her the deep depression he felt after parting from his friends?

A monarch all alone on his throne was a lonely existence.

He tried his best not to think of Katara, in particular. That proved impossible by the numerous letters they sent regularly to each other. Though Zuko received a fair number from the rest of his friends and his uncle, it was Katara’s that he looked forward to the most. It was Katara’s that he hoped was being brought with each messenger hawk he saw approaching. It was Katara’s that could brighten his world after a wretched day of being hounded by his council. It was Katara’s that validated his feelings and, in turn, revealed hers—the good and the bad—to him out of trust.

But even letters full of encouragement and support couldn’t fully fill the gaping hole that their writer’s absence left in him.

Zuko reminded himself that none of this mattered. That whatever unexplainable emotion he felt towards Katara would fade over time. That though it weighed heavy, the crown on his head was heavier. That duty always came first.

And yet, why did it feel like a small flame inside him had been snuffed out?

“Mai,” Zuko swallowed, “that was a long time ago. Yes, I…I may have had a little crush on her, but it was fleeting, I swear to you. I didn’t even fully comprehend what I was feeling. Besides, we were in the middle of a war, and I barely had time to think about it, let alone act on it. And then, before I knew it, she was with Aang. Besides, what I feel for you is far more than what I may have felt for her.”

Though his wife’s expression remained the same, he could tell she was unconvinced. “But I wasn’t the one you took a lightning bolt for.”

“I would have taken it for you too, Mai,” Zuko insisted urgently. “For anyone I care about. Katara’s my friend, and it wasn’t just about her—it was about doing the right thing. Surely you see that?”

Mai studied him, her gaze unwavering. Before they had even wed, she had realized that the affection she had for Zuko was different from the one he felt for her. It wasn’t equal. Perhaps her level of love for him was one only she specifically could feel. It bore an intensity unnatural in comparison to the apathy most people generally attributed her with. She was willing to die for him, lie for him, scheme for him, suffer for him!

Had she not herself confessed to Azula that she loved Zuko more than she feared her?

And in some mysterious way, the arrangement worked for her and Zuko. She accepted with pride and reserve the position of being his chosen life-long partner. And she did honestly believe that Zuko had grown to love her dearly, that he took pleasure in her companionship.

He could’ve taken his pick of any number of concubines he wished. Yet he’d gotten rid of the centuries-long custom of having his own harem, declaring her his one and only partner. She recalled how bursting with pride he had been whenever she had announced a pregnancy, and all the tender consolation he bestowed her with each miscarriage, ensuring her own comfort over his own.

Yes, Zuko loved her wholeheartedly—in his own way.

“I believe you,” Mai finally said. “But it doesn’t erase the past.”

His shoulders slumping a little with the burden of their conversation, Zuko again took her hands in his and firmly pressed his lips against them. “Mai, you and I have built a life together. We’re a family—us and our unborn child. How could I possibly not love you for it?”

Mai sighed, her empty stare softening just enough to put her husband a bit more at ease. “I don’t question your faithfulness, Zuko. And I trust you. But…today was a lot. I just need some time to think.” She paused, knowing her next words would hurt him. “And if you don’t mind…I’d prefer to sleep alone tonight.”

Zuko’s heart sank, Mai’s words feeling like a slap to the cheek. They’d never spent a night apart since their marriage. Even when they sometimes argued, they had always made sure to sort things out before going to sleep so neither of them went to bed upset. But he nodded, understanding his wife’s need for space.

“If that’s what you need.”

Her expression unreadable, Mai watched him slip out of the room. When the door closed behind him, she let out the shaky breath she had been holding, all efforts of remaining composed at last faltering in her solitude.

Her steps aimless and unsure of where she was really going, Katara found herself wandering into the palace gardens, somehow unconsciously drawn to it. During her two months in the Fire Nation, this had been her favourite spot and a quiet haven to retreat to after long busy days. Jasmine, wisteria, and peach blossoms bloomed, filling the gardens with a sweet and delicate fragrance. A waterfall gently rippled into the turtleduck pond, overlooked by a pavilion in which a round marble table and stools were arranged for pleasant pai sho games or tea parties. Tonight, however, not even the stillness of the gardens could calm her restlessness. The hungry turtleducks, usually her companions, were fast asleep.

With a heavy sigh, Katara sat at the edge of the pond, beginning to waterbend its surface with smooth and controlled motions. Even the therapeutic push and pull of her element did little to prevent her mind racing with the day’s events. All of it swirled into a tempest of unease.

She couldn’t forget Aang’s silent departure, how he had flown off as he always did when he wanted to run away from his problems. Even five years after the war, Aang never learned to deal well with stress. His absence left her feeling abandoned and unsure of what to do next. Part of her knew Aang must’ve felt the same way when she left him two months ago. Katara had desperately wanted to talk—to apologize, to explain, to soothe.

But at the same time, there was a small voice inside her that she couldn’t ignore. A voice that said she’d been doing so for five years…and at what personal price?

A sudden gust of wind overhead snapped her out of her thoughts. Thinking it was Aang, she looked up to instead see Zuko soaring on Druk. The sight of the Fire Lord and his majestic red dragon was both awe-inspiring and unnerving. Her mouth falling open with a faint gasp, Katara tensed as Druk circled around before landing gracefully in the garden. He gave a little snort, smoke flaring from his nostrils as he shook his wings slightly, the movement still powerful enough to make some of the smaller trees bend. Though she stood quite a distance away, Katara felt a pang of nervousness, still not used to the dragon. His towering body was almost three times the size of Appa’s, and his sharp eyes seemed to be aflame and bore into hers.

Zuko dismounted with ease, giving Druk an affectionate pat. “Go back to the stables, buddy.” The dragon let out a low grunt that sounded almost like annoyance before taking off again, vanishing into the night sky.

As if he were approaching a startled lop-eared rabbit, Zuko carefully walked over. “Can’t sleep?” At the shake of Katara’s head, his lips contorted into a half-smile, half-grimace. “Should’ve expected that, I guess.”

“I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep either.”

Zuko sighed, running a hand through his windblown hair. “No. After today, I’d be surprised if anyone could.” He gestured to the edge of the pond. “Mind if I sit?”

At Katara’s acquiescence, he settled down next to her. For what felt like minutes, though it was just a few seconds, both found staring at the water very interesting, the silence only broken by the chirping of cicada crickets.

“I’m guessing this is your favourite spot in the palace?” Zuko eventually asked.

“Yeah,” Katara said. “How’d you know?”

Zuko gave a shrug. “I see you here quite a bit. It’s my favourite spot too.”

“Why don’t you come as often then?”

“Got busy lately,” was Zuko’s vague reply. “Especially what with the Elemental Expo on top of everything.”

His eyes caught a baby turtleduck emerging from the reeds, having woken from sleep by their voices. Knowing that such voices generally meant food, it slowly waded over. Grinning, Zuko held out his hands and it waddled into them, hoping to find breadcrumbs but only getting a bunch of pets instead. Stroking the fluffy down on its head, a far-off look seemed to shadow Zuko’s face like a curtain.

“I’m not sure if I’ve told you this already, but…this place reminds me of my mother.”

Katara’s attention was turned from the cute bird to his wistful expression. “How so?

“When I was little, my mother and I fed the turtleducks here every day. She loved pruning the fire lilies herself. They were her favourite flower.” In every tree, every bud, in the very air itself, Zuko could still feel his mother’s presence. “After she disappeared, I used to secretly go to her room to sniff from her perfume bottles and hug the pillows of her bed. They’d still smell like her. When my father banished me…” he paused to swallow, “it was like losing her all over again. Leaving the palace meant leaving everything that reminded me of her. The gardens, her bedchamber, the theatre on Ember Island which we used to go to…”

In his voice was all the loneliness, all the longing he had shouldered for many years by himself. At hearing it, Katara felt her heart become just as heavy. Underneath it all—the armies, the power and might, his former anger and obsession for honour—was just a scared boy who had desperately wanted to go home. A boy who was little more than a child and yet was forced to leave everything he had ever known. A boy who just wanted his mother back. Katara understood that pain all too well.

“I think your mother would be proud of you,” she said at last.

Zuko gave her a small, grateful smile, though his eyes were still tinged with a shadow of doubt. “I hope so. But now…after everything we learned from Izumi…I now can’t stop wondering what she’d think of me being tied to such a terrible future.”

Impatient to get going, what with the lack of breadcrumbs, the baby turtleduck began to squirm out of Zuko’s hands. He gently let it back into the water, watching it swim back to the safety of the reeds where he knew its mother was probably anxiously waiting.

“Zuko…” Katara placed a comforting hand on his arm. “She’d still love you, no matter what. And as for the future…like you said earlier, we’ll figure it out somehow—together with our friends.”

At first, Katara thought her words didn’t fully register to Zuko due to how he was still staring off into the distance. His eyes only remained focused on the sunrise starting to peek out over the horizon, its rays casting a golden glow across the city.

At last, he asked, “Before what happened today…have you ever thought about what you want for the future?”

His question caught her off guard. The waterbender hesitated, drawing into herself. “I…I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I always thought I’d marry Aang, as I know many others are expecting also. And I guess…just continue helping people. But lately, I’ve started wondering if that’s enough. I want to be my own person, not just a shadow behind the Avatar.”

Katara thought of the place Aang wanted her to fill. He wanted her cooperation, her sympathy, her active and intellectual help whenever needed. He wanted of her, not just the love of a girlfriend, but in some unspoken weird way, the love of a mother. Katara secretly disliked it; she had been forced into a maternal role at such a young age. She didn’t see herself doing that for the rest of her life. It wasn’t natural or right for her (or any woman for that matter) to have to look after her partner like a parent would.

Her thoughts wandered to a possible life married to Aang. A mundane existence as a housewife with hardly any accomplishments—or ones only attributed to Aang even if she had a hand in them. In addition, Katara knew how badly Aang wanted children; he wanted to revive his culture with little airbenders of his own. Yet, if she did have kids someday…why should she have to give up her independence for it? Could she not be a mother and her own person?

Katara shuddered a little. She could not think about such things right now.

Zuko tilted his head, and by the understanding in his expression, Katara wondered if he had read her thoughts. “That sounds like you,” he said, with a faint smile. “Always being selfless and putting others first, but still being aware of your own worth.”

The warmth his words gave her dampened slightly by the sombre look he then gave her. “The letters you used to send…you often expressed dissatisfaction about how people only see you as Aang’s companion.”

“Yeah…” Katara sighed.

“I think it’s unfair. You’ve done so much.”

Katara’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “Aang is the Avatar—the Saviour of the World, the Bringer of Peace, and all those grand titles. Me? Most people don’t even call me Master Katara anymore. They call me Princess Katara, like I’m just a decoration.” She rolled her eyes, grumbling, “It’s only thanks to Dad’s new elected role that I have that title now.”

Zuko frowned. “You deserve recognition for everything you’ve done. Maybe we should come up with some new titles for you.” He grinned mischievously and cleared his throat. “Master Katara, Champion and Protector of the People, the Breaker of Chains—”

Katara couldn’t help but laugh, playfully punching his arm. “Okay, okay, I get it. Stop before I start calling you ‘Lord of Overexaggerated Monologues.’”

The tension between them dissolved for a moment as they chuckled in unison. But once the laughter died down, Katara grew serious again. “What about you, Zuko? What do you want for the future?”

Zuko smiled at the thought. “When I dream of the future, I don’t imagine anything big or grand. Instead, I think of being with Uncle at his tea shop in Ba Sing Se, or with Mai at our Ember Island vacation house. Our child playing around us, and maybe with a sibling or two if Agni wills it. Playing Pai Sho, drinking tea, listening to music…an ordinary life just like any other citizen. I admit there are times when I wish I was just an ordinary citizen. Times when I’d rather do simple chores like cooking and cleaning, over listening to my ministers argue over economics or trade disputes.”

To think that five years ago as a fugitive, he scorned the idea of himself, the Crown Prince, having to live like a peasant. What he would give to be able to relive the days of just working at the Jasmine Dragon or camping with his friends!

But no. He couldn’t just deny the happy moments he had as Fire Lord either. Marrying Mai. Anticipating their child’s birth. Introducing reforms for the benefit of his people. Seeing the townspeople’s joy as he generously lavished them with largesse.

“I still want peace between the nations, of course. This wretched Cold War now going on is taking a toll on all of us. But more than anything, I just want to spend time with my family. Growing up in a broken family with an abusive father...it taught me what I don’t want to be. I want to be there for my child, to give him or her the love and stability I never had.”

Katara smiled softly. “You’ll be a great father, Zuko.”

He looked at her, his expression earnest. “Thanks…that means a lot.”

They continued to watch the emergence of the dawn, before Zuko at last let out a yawn joking, “I think I’m going to get some quick shuteye before the workday officially starts. I may rise with the sun, but I haven’t had sleep all night.”

Katara let out a snort in spite of herself at his last sentence. She still remembered how, before her consciousness faded, Zuko had said that corny quote after their duel in the Northern Water Tribe.

With a smirk, she said, “See you later then.”

Zuko returned the smile. “Yeah…”

Katara spent a few more minutes in the gardens, before getting up herself. Already she could tell her energy was going to be drained for the day. She was just about to head back inside when the sounds of a glider and a pair of feet landing on the ground halted her in her tracks. With dread, she prepared herself for an argument or a pity party or her words falling on deaf ears, before turning around.

“Aang…”

Chapter Text

Excerpt from “The Condensed History of the Fire Nation Royal Family Volume 27 Part 3”:

(Editor’s note: This surviving letter is said to have been one of hundreds exchanged between Fire Lord Zuko and Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe during the days of their friendship. While the Fire Lord was married to Fire Lady Mai at the time, and Princess Katara was in a relationship with Avatar Aang respectively, some contemporary scholars debate as to whether there was more than to what met the eye between them. Many theorize that this particular letter was not just Fire Lord Zuko appealing for aid from the Southern Water Tribe Princess, but an excuse for him to be reunited with his supposed secret lover.)

Dear Katara,

I hope this letter finds you well, or at least better than the last one you sent. Apologies for not responding sooner than I normally do, but life got busy.

You mentioned that you needed space from Aang, and I get it. If you want, you are always free to come to the Fire Nation and stay at the palace (or anywhere you else like). No need for an answer right away but know that the offer always stands.

Truthfully, there is another reason for me writing. As I’m sure you’ve already heard, Mai is pregnant again. Though she doesn’t say much, but I can tell she is afraid, and I am too. What with the past miscarriages, I’m sure you understand why. Sokka mentioned you have experience with midwifery, and I was hoping that perhaps you could help? I’ve already consulted the royal physician and Yagoda, but let’s just say, there is a need for extra hands. I know it’s a lot to ask for on such short notice.

I hope you will at least consider my invitation. Please don’t feel obligated, of course. If nothing else, let the Fire Nation be a place where you are always welcome.

Sincerely,

Zuko

No matter how much Katara braced herself for the inevitable conversation, all the comfort from her earlier talk with Zuko had gone cold at the sight of Aang. From the dark circles under his eyes, she could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Where had he been all night? Whatever words Katara thought up beforehand seemed to have just flown out of her head. And from how the silence kept dragging on, Aang was either equally tongue-tied or waiting for her to speak first.

“I needed time to think,” he said, at last.

Katara nodded, replying in a tone just as cautious. “I figured as much.”

Aang’s heart broke a little at the sound of her voice, how she spoke to him as if she were addressing a stranger. He struggled to fathom where things went wrong. Nor was he able to understand the source of Katara’s unhappiness, no matter how many times she had tried to explain. His efforts to console her only seemed to amplify her frustration. Just when and how did their relationship start heading South?

His face clouded with doubt, Aang looked away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Katara, about you and Zuko—”

“Aang,” she cut off gently, “Zuko is just a friend—maybe even my best friend. There’s nothing going on between us and there never has been.”

Katara maintained a calm façade, although her heart was hammering at how Aang’s grey eyes were black as obsidian. The way he was studying her intently reminded Katara of how one assessed an opponent across a pai sho board.

In his mind, Aang was thinking of every instance between his girlfriend and the Fire Lord, questioning whether they could really be attributed to just a close friendship or not. Ever since Zuko and Katara had returned from seeking out Yon Rha, Aang wasn’t oblivious to how something had shifted between them. Of course, the glaringly obvious was that Katara just suddenly went from giving Zuko death glares to being free-spirited and warm around him. Aang’s grip on his staff clenched tighter as he recalled overhearing their private nightly conversations on Ember Island when they thought everyone had gone to bed. Aang had tried to convince himself that there were probably just some things Katara felt she couldn’t share with him and the others that she only could with Zuko.

Yet, no matter how many other explanations there might be, it hadn’t made him any less green with envy even five years later. Aang’s long-buried frustration had kept piling up. That Ember Island play, his insecurities wondering if it was more real than it appeared. The frequent letters between Katara and Zuko. Not to mention whenever he and Katara would occasionally visit Zuko…noticing the way his girlfriend and the Fire Lord looked at each other. How they interacted, never going beyond the boundaries of propriety, but still too close for his comfort.

Was all that really just a good relationship between best friends?

“It still…bothers me,” Aang said, at last. “Especially now, after everything Izumi said.”

“We can’t control what some stranger from the future says…but I need you to trust me, Aang. I care about you, no matter what was said otherwise.”

But Aang was petulantly unwilling to let it go. “You didn’t seem to care when you left me two months ago.”

“I-I needed time, Aang—”

“I think we should leave the Fire Nation. Both of us.”

Katara’s expression hardened with flashing challenge. “I’m not leaving.”

Aang’s steely gaze fixed on her. “Why not?”

“Mai needs me, Aang. She’s about to have a child, and she’s under a lot of stress. She’s my friend, and I won’t abandon her now.”

Katara refrained from adding Zuko’s name as well, knowing it would only make her estranged boyfriend upset. Seeing Aang inhale to argue, she held up a hand, cutting him off.

“And I’m the Minister of Social Affairs here and,” she internally cringed before using the title she disliked, “Princess of the Southern Water Tribe. Don’t you realize how it’d look if I left abruptly, especially with the Elemental Expo coming up? There’s still so much to do; I can’t just abandon my duties.”

Seeing Aang still looked conflicted, Katara then pointed out, “It’s not just me, Aang. You have your own role to play as well; you’re the Avatar. You’re supposed to be the main symbol of balance and unity, especially in these uncertain and politically tense times. Everyone will be looking to you at the Expo.”

Ashamed, Aang felt the truth behind her reasoning impact like a hammer. How he wished he could just get away from it all. While the responsibility of being the Avatar felt rewarding with each accomplished success, the messier side of every failure made it feel like a tornado was sucking him in. That’s why he needed Katara. Her support was the only thing keeping him grounded. Couldn’t she see how important she was to him? For a moment, Aang imagined himself as any other airbender, carefree in the skies without the world on his shoulders. If he wasn’t the Avatar, would Katara have been more willing to be with him? Aang constantly felt like he was at war with himself, having to put duty over sentiment like all the other Avatars before him. They were difficult shoes to fill, and five years later, it wasn’t any easier.

Trying to plead once more, Katara said, “I know you’re concerned about the warning Izumi gave us; I am too. If it is true, which we don’t even know yet, we have the chance to stop it—but not if we run away.”

Aang heard the meaning behind her words loud and clear. This wasn’t something he could fly away from. And she was right. The Elemental Expo was created to promote peace. The Avatar abruptly departing would be seen by the world as a negative political statement. If they were ever to prevent another catastrophic war, they had to take every opportunity to do so.

Letting out a sigh, Aang’s expression was weary but resigned. “Fine. We’ll stay.”

Moving closer to him, Katara placed a hand on his shoulder with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Aang. I know it isn’t easy, but we must all be united in this and show ourselves ready to take every difficulty in stride. And for that, I need you to trust me.”

Aang pushed his reluctance aside with difficulty. “I do trust you,” he said quietly, yet his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he walked inside the palace.

Katara let out a deep exhale, trying to pull herself together. Well, that went far better than she could’ve hoped. There was much to do and many bridges to mend, but for now, they had taken the first step forward. And yet, she still felt as if she had vinegar in her mouth, close to choking on her own emotion.

***

Trying to concentrate on the questions directed her way, Izumi stifled a yawn. When Ty Lee brought her to her new room, Izumi had been eager for a good night’s sleep. As it turned out, time-travel could be very exhausting for some weird unexplainable reason. Her large bed was the most luxurious she had ever known, its mattress plush and its multitude of blankets providing immediate warmth.

But even comfort couldn’t prevent Izumi’s slumbers from being disturbed by nightmares—primarily of her aunt contorting in agony as the Bloodbending Queen controlled her limbs before snapping her neck. Izumi had jolted awake many times during the night, her body damp with perspiration. Her only reassurance were the soft snores of Ty Lee, who slept by her bed on a futon.

Vaguely through her lethargy, Izumi could hear Suki asking her a question. “And there’s nothing else that you can remember and tell us?”

Resisting another yawn, Izumi replied, “Sorry, that’s all I really have. I don’t know much else.”

“Have some more tea, child. You look like you need it,” Iroh said, pouring her another cup.

For the past hour, they and the rest of Team Avatar had been seated at breakfast in Zuko’s private dining room. Set before them was an impressive array of dishes that wafted a warm savoury aroma. A thick soup brimming with chunks of meat and sliced lotus root, whole eggs stewed in herbs, tender pea shoots, fish fried to a golden crisp, and steamed rice. Simpler fare than that of the grand state dinners Zuko was sometimes required to host, but he always preferred it to be so when eating in private or amongst family and friends.

The group, however, had been doing less partaking of the food and more listening to Izumi. Despite her fatigue, she promptly answered every inquiry, picking up where she left off last night to reveal any other important information she might’ve missed.

“As I’ve already told you guys, the only things I do know are…fragmentary,” she eventually finished.

Toph let out a belch making everyone around the table cringe, before she interjected, “So, you’re saying we don’t have much else to go on but what you’ve told us now and last night. That’s not exactly promising, Groundhog.”

Izumi stared, wondering if the blind earthbender was making a joke. “Wait a minute…Groundhog?”

Rolling her eyes, Katara leaned in and whispered, “The nickname will eventually grow on you.”

Iroh set his teacup down and began stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Returning to Master Toph’s point, on the contrary, I believe we may have one particular lead.” He turned to Izumi asking, “That name Koh mentioned to you in the spirit world…Nobukazu, was it?”

Nobukazu…the name rang a bell in Zuko’s mind. “Wasn’t he the Fire Lord who started the Great War centuries ago?”

Iroh nodded. “Indeed, yet there are few surviving records on him.”

His face stuffed with fish, Sokka almost choked on a bone when he remarked, “Your nation sure does have a record of rulers being hot-headed—pun intended. Jokes aside, how can we be sure that the person Koh was specifically referring to is this Fire Lord Nobu-whatever-his-name-is?”

“We don’t, yet it’s still a start,” Zuko said, already making mental notes. “The Royal Archives might have something on him. I’ll ask Uncle Kenzo; as Grand Secretary, he knows the archives better than anyone.”

“There’s someone else who might also be able to help us.” Everyone looked at Aang. For the majority of breakfast, he hadn’t eaten much, only sulkily moving the peas on his plate with his chopsticks. Now, for the first time, he appeared engaged. “What about Aunt Wu?”

Izumi straightened up at the name. “The fortuneteller Aunt Wu?”

“Lemme guess, another person you know?” Toph asked.

“Not personally. But just when the war started, some refugees from Makapu Village sought sanctuary at Kyoshi Island. They told stories of how Aunt Wu had predicted threatening omens before their village was attacked.”

Sokka was clearly unimpressed. “That old fraud’s so-called ‘predictions’ are a complete sham. Aang, you can’t be serious!”

He didn’t notice how Katara seemed to stir a little, a certain prediction returning to her mind. She could almost still hear Aunt Wu’s voice saying, “I see a great romance for you. The man you’re going to marry…I can see that he’s a very powerful bender.” The fortuneteller’s words hitting home with a new effect, Katara regarded Zuko who was sitting across from her. Having now met a girl supposedly from the future, who was she to believe? Izumi or Aunt Wu? Or…could both of their prophecies be true? For a long time, she had always assumed the powerful bender that Aunt Wu was referring to was Aang, but now… Katara shook her head a little. It was pointless to speculate things out of her control. Catching on to her staring, Zuko’s eyes flitted up to Katara’s, his eyebrow raised in question. She quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks heat up.

His sharp eyes not missing the exchange, Aang tried to refocus on answering Sokka. “Aunt Wu still possibly could have at least some insights, even if they aren’t completely accurate. If there’s even a small chance she can help, isn’t it worth taking?”

He purposefully omitted his own personal reason for wanting to seek the fortuneteller’s aid. Feeling like all his hopeful expectations were on the line, he hadn’t needed this much clarification and assurance since the Hundred Year War.

“I’m with Aang,” Izumi said. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

“Better than not trying,” Ty Lee agreed.

With a smirk, Toph said, “I think I’ll join y’all. If Groundhog here can’t confirm me still being the most powerful earthbender in the future, then maybe this shaman auntie can.”

Sokka raised his hands in the air. “Fine, whatever. You guys do you.” No matter how much he thought the whole thing would be a wild goose chase, experience taught him his reasoning would go in one ear and out the other.

“Anyone else coming?” Aang asked, hoping Katara would.

To his disappointment, the waterbender shook her head. “I still have paperwork that needs to be finished by the end of the day.”

Zuko said, “It isn’t necessary for us all to go, especially since some of us still have responsibilities here. You guys can go to Makapu Village. Katara, Suki, Sokka, and I will stay and see what else we can uncover or discuss any further plans that come to mind.”

He didn’t think he was mistaking the cold look Aang was sending his way.

As the morning wore on, Zuko later found Aang tending to Appa outside the palace stables, doing some last preparations for the journey. Sensing his master’s hurt, the sky bison lowly rumbled as Aang checked his saddle straps. It seemed, however, not even Appa could comfort him as Aang simply turned away when his furry companion tried giving a big wet lick. Zuko let out a sigh, before stepping over.

“Aang, can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Zuko had never seen a stare so vacant and emotionless before. Seeing it on his normally jovial friend was rather disturbing.

Choosing his words carefully, Zuko said, “After what happened yesterday, I wanted to make sure that there’s no…misunderstanding. Between us, I mean.”

Aang turned his attention back to Appa’s straps. “It’s all a lot to process.”

“I get it. And…I don’t blame you for being upset. But I wanted to make it clear that, no matter what anyone else may say, I would never try to disrespect what you and Katara have by trying to come between you. I value my friendship with you both too much.”

A huge part of Aang wanted to say, “Really?” Katara had asked him to trust her…but could he extend that same confidence to Zuko?

Guiding Appa to slowly descend, Aang noticed Katara’s look of excitement as Caldera City came into view. Aang hadn’t seen Katara in such spirits for a very long time. He honestly couldn’t even remember the last instance she had ever looked this forward to anything. Though he was pleased to see her smile brighter than normal, Aang was troubled by the lack of it before they decided to visit the Fire Nation. Recently, there seemed to be a growing dissatisfaction in Katara which she was becoming more vocal with him about.

The arguments between them were always a painful trial. No matter how hard Aang tried to reassure Katara about her own importance, it was never enough. It didn’t fully register to Aang until he accidentally read one of her letters to Zuko.

Katara was ambitious.

She liked being her own person. And though she never demanded it, she craved recognition.

At the time, Aang was baffled. How could Katara not think people admired her as much as him? No matter how hard he tried, it was just something about her that he kept failing to understand. An unfamiliar side to her otherwise perfect self that he felt like he’d never known before. Had it always been there, buried beneath?

Aang let out a sigh, keeping it low so that Katara wouldn’t hear. Gently, he steered Appa into landing before the main entrance of the palace. Zuko and Mai stood waiting, along with an assemblage of various members of the court. Yet, all signs of royal protocol were broken as the Fire Lord and his bride-to-be stepped forward to greet their friends.

“Aang, Katara!” Zuko exclaimed.

Giving a broad grin of his own, Aang chuckled, “Sifu Hotman.” He embraced the Fire Lord in a bear hug, making most of the courtiers flinch at such a breach of etiquette. “Long time no see.”

They broke away to gaze upon Mai and Katara, who were exchanging warm courtesies of their own. Aang wasn’t sure whether his ears were tricking him or not, but he swore he heard Zuko give a slight hitch of his breath at seeing Katara. It shouldn’t have been any surprise. Katara had always been pretty, but Aang was fully aware of how even more beautiful she had become since the end of the war. He had seen all the male gazes turned her way during their travels. But she was his forever girl and so far no one was dumb enough to challenge that.

Zuko though…

From the corner of his eye, Aang scrutinized the Fire Lord, yet there was not the slightest altercation in his expression or bearing. Now finding himself in conversation with Mai, Aang could barely concentrate on her pleasant greetings, as he kept side-glancing at Zuko and Katara. The two of them were behaving as normal, as if all their time apart had been nothing.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” he heard Katara say.

“Thank you. Mai and I were so glad you both could come for the celebration,” Zuko said. “I hope you’ve been well?”

“Well, what with our letters, I’m sure you’re already familiar with what’s going on,” Katara teased. “But, yes, I’m well, thanks. Especially since I’ve been anticipating coming back here. It’s been so long since Aang and I last visited.”

“I still have your rooms exactly as you’ve left them—aside from a bit of tidying, of course.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. Any of the courtiers who might’ve been listening to them, like Aang was, would’ve not raised any questions. By this point, he was no longer bothering to discreetly look but was full-on staring at them. At how Zuko traded a joke, making Katara let out a laugh and blush slightly. At how the Fire Lord’s cheeks turned just as crimson as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Aang?”

Starting a little, the airbender averted his eyes back to Mai, who was looking at him questioningly. Turning her head to see what was distracting him so much, a crimp formed at the edge of her smile.

Clearing her throat, Mai said, “Perhaps we ought to go inside now. Unless we intend to stand here all day.”

“Of course, of course,” Zuko said. “You both must be tired from your journey.”

Followed by the courtiers, they entered the palace together. At a wave of Zuko’s hand, two servants hurried forward, ready to show the new arrivals to their quarters.

“See you both at dinner, perhaps?” Zuko said.

Katara smiled. “Yeah.”

Aang didn’t bother responding and only gave a curt nod of his head, his already present suspicions increasing. They never went away for the duration of his and Katara’s visit. Every instance they were together, his gaze couldn’t help automatically watching Zuko and Katara like a hawk. When among company, they never interacted solely with one another for a considerable period.  Their hugs were brief and didn’t last a second longer than necessary. To any casual observer, Zuko and Katara were just behaving like any other best friends would. There was no indication of them being anything but purely platonic.

And yet, like two magnets, they constantly seemed to be drawn to each other, no matter what room they were in. Whenever their eyes met, it was as if their gaze carried a meaning only they could understand. And although Aang never chanced upon the two of them alone, his anxiety kept arise the possibility.

Aang told himself he was being stupid, literally stalking his girlfriend and one of his best buddies. It was wrong of him get all jealous over the beautiful friendship they shared. So what if they were close? He knew even if his worst fears were true, Katara and Zuko were both too bound to the code of honour to betray their partners. It still didn’t cease his resentment though, wishing he had what Zuko did with Katara.

As it turned out, however, his wariness and envy proved unwarranted as he discovered on the eve of his and Katara’s scheduled departure. Walking though the palace halls, he was about to turn a corner when he heard two voices he’d recognize anywhere, speaking for the first time in private.

“Maybe you should tell Aang all this,” he heard Zuko say. “I’ll always listen whenever you need me to, Katara, but this really is a conversation you need to be having with him.”

“I have already, you know that! Many times!” Katara cried. “Aang just…he just doesn’t get it. He never wants to talk about the bad and the ugly, whenever I’m feeling down. It makes him too uncomfortable; he doesn’t know how to address it. He either tells me to brush it off with something positive or he runs away. Don’t you remember that time we went to go find Yon Rha?”

“Of course.”

“You remember how he tried making me forgive him? You remember how he just said, ‘See? I forgive you,” with a smile—as if it could be that simple?! That’s what it’s like whenever I try to express my troubles to him! He tries to understand but…but…”

Hearing how frustrated Katara was made Aang equally upset. It was just one of those things he knew they’d never be able to agree on. He didn’t know how to tell it to Katara. There was right and there was wrong; good and evil; there was nothing in between. That was what the monks had always taught him. Whatever grey areas Katara could see, he just…couldn’t.

He next heard Zuko say, “If there’s one thing I learned with communicating effectively with Mai, it’s that patience is key. Aang may not get it right now, but the fact he’s trying is what matters. I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do…but sometimes these things just take time.”

“I want my relationship with Aang to work.”

“I know.”

“Since we first met, we’ve always stuck together through thick and thin.”

“I know.”

“I care about him, and he cares about me.”

“I know,” Zuko repeated.

Katara heavily exhaled, “I’m sorry for saying all this heavy stuff.”

“No, not at all. I’m here to listen whenever you need. But again…I think you should discuss this with Aang.”

Aang heard Katara sigh once more. Afterwards, it was so silent for a long time that he swore he could almost hear his own heartbeat. Then, he heard their footsteps withdrawing, thankfully not headed in his direction. The gravity of the conversation he overheard began to register. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was all okay. Katara yearned just as much as he did to make things work. And it sounded Zuko too was rooting for them. How could he have imagined anything inappropriate between them?

Satisfied, Aang made a vow to himself and to Katara. He would understand. He may not get her troubles now, but he would eventually. He had to.

He tried to ignore how, despite everything she just vented, Katara never once said that she loved him…

Aang, at last, restrained himself and said, “Well, it wouldn’t be fair of me to hold a grudge for something that might not even occur. Katara asked me to trust her, so in a way, I must extend that trust also to you.”

Zuko felt a weight lift from his chest. “Thank you, Aang.”

He extended his hand which Aang took, the gesture hesitant but sincere. With a firm handshake, for the first time, a small revival of their former camaraderie returned.  

Abruptly, Aang blurted out, “I’m glad we could get this sorted cause…”

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t tell anyone just yet, but…” Aang paused before pulling out an amber stone hanging from an orange band. Zuko’s eyes widened in understanding, as Aang continued, “…during the Elemental Expo, I’m thinking of asking Katara to marry me.”

What entered Zuko’s mind were habitual words of congratulations, yet all that came out of his mouth was, “Oh.”

His response was not what Aang had been hoping. His eyes narrowing ever so slightly, the airbender asked, “Something wrong?”

Something was wrong. The harmony between them that had been seemingly repaired just a few seconds ago had become strained again. It sent a streak of guilt through Zuko. Part of him said that it was no business of his to be interfering in what he thought best for his two friends. Yet, the other part reasoned that it was because they were his friends that he should speak up out of concern for them. And right now, his gut was telling him he should be concerned.

“N-No. I-It…it’s just don’t you think it’s a little…soon?”

“What do you mean? You and Mai got married at around our age.”

Zuko knitted his eyebrows together at Aang’s shaky rationale. While it was indeed true, Zuko had waited until he and Mai reached maturity not just in a physical sense, but an emotional and mental one too, before proposing. Zuko wasn’t quite sure whether Aang and Katara reached that point yet in their relationship.

But before Zuko could state his reasoning, Aang added, “I know it seems rushed, but I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while—way before Katara left to help you and Mai. And…I’m just trying to salvage our relationship.”

Amidst his perplexity, Zuko could not find it in himself to be compassionate. Incredulously, he asked, “And you think marriage is the answer?”

“Of course. Katara is my forever girl. I’ve always seen her as a part of my life in the future.”

‘Yet, does that go for Katara?’ Zuko wanted to say. ‘Does her vision of what she wants align with yours?’

“Have you both seriously discussed marriage yet? And by that, I don’t mean simply entertaining the idea.”

“Well, no,” Aang admitted, but he quickly added, “But I know Katara would want to eventually.”

“Has she herself said that aloud?”

“Well, no,” Aang repeated.

There was an awkward pause.

“…I see,” Zuko eventually said.

Aang eyed Zuko attentively, searching his countenance. “You don’t seem very pleased.”

“W-What—n-no! I mean, I’m just more…”

He could hardly describe what exactly he felt. Astonishment for certain. One that for some reason was as painful as it was strong.

“I’m just confused,” Zuko said, at last.

“I don’t understand what there is to be confused over,” Aang said. There was a slight edge to his voice. “Katara and I have been dating for five years now.”

Zuko took the risky leap, jumping off the edge. Either out of courage or pure foolishness, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t keep it in.

“Aang, can I share something with you?”

“Mm.”

“As I’m sure you know, Mai and I had a rather tumultuous relationship at first. We used to break up and get back together a lot. But over the years, we pulled through—and together, we learned some key aspects important for any relationship. Things like healthy communication, shared values, ideas of the future, how we resolved conflicts and helped each other personally grow.

“Before Mai and I got married, we had many deep discussions about these things and whether we understood them well enough to be compatible. And after a lot of consideration, we agreed that our relationship had already long been stable by that point. Then, and only then, did I finally propose to her.

“I’m not saying every couple has to do this; I know what works for Mai and I might not necessarily work for you and Katara but…I think it might help.”   

Zuko paused, searching Aang’s face to see whether the airbender was getting it or not.

“I will think about what you said,” Aang finally said, without a hint of insincerity.

“Oi! We’re ready now, Twinkletoes!”

Approaching the palace stables, each carrying a pack for the journey, were Toph, Ty Lee, and Izumi. Taking that as his cue that their conversation was up, Zuko took a step back and bowed to Aang.

“Take care of them,” the Fire Lord said. “And yourself.”

“I will. You…take care of the others.”

“Of course. Safe journeys to you.”

Zuko watched them fly off until Appa was a mere speck flying in the distance. Yet, before the sky bison disappeared, he saw Aang look back with a grim expression plastered on his face.

“Our intelligence from Caldera City says that the recent rumours prove to be true, sir, hard though they may be to believe. Yet, we have the evidence of many eyewitnesses at the time. It seems almost the entire city saw the little girl appear out of thin air.”

His ears pricking attentively at his subordinate’s report, Admiral Hanzo rifled through a pile of surveillance accounts. The candle burning upon his desk cast sharp shadows across his angular features.

“And regarding what the girl supposedly brazened out?” he asked.

“Hard to say, sir. But news travels fast and it has certainly caused a stir beyond the capital.”

A cold calculating glint in his eyes, Hanzo leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “What do you make of it all yourself, General Shinu?”

Shinu cooly appraised the young man he stood before, hating how he could only see Zhao’s eyes arrogantly staring back. Aside from the physical features he shared with his late father, it seemed Hanzo inherited Zhao’s narcissism as well. Well, Shinu had to surmise, like people said, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“It’s an utter disgrace! A slap in the face! Fire Lords Sozin and Azulon must be turning in their graves. First, the fall of our great nation and now…” Shinu’s scowl contorted deeper, “…that traitor, Zuko, possibly marrying a chav in the future. The very idea of it! A Water Tribe whore someday sitting on the Dragon Throne!”

Drumming his fingers on his desk, Hanzo crooned, “And yet, that very waterbender intrigues me. Not to mention, this so-called Bloodbending Queen…”

Before he could add anything further, there was a sharp rap on the door. “Enter,” Hanzo commanded.

A soldier came in, followed by two other figures—one tall and gaunt, the other with a nervous, hunched posture. The soldier said, “The men you requested us to find, Admiral. Former Commanders Wang and Yon Rha of the Southern Raiders.”

Hanzo rose. “Thank you, Officer Fuji. Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, gentlemen. I trust my soldiers treated you most hospitably?”

Wang’s moustache twitched with the quivering of his upper lip. “Yes, sir.”

“Let’s get straight to it then.” Hanzo sat back down, not bothering to invite his guests to do the same.

The former commanders looked about nervously from Shinu and Officer Fuji to the unsettling number of pictures of Princess Azula adorning the walls. Anywhere but into the admiral’s eyes, which seemed to pierce right through them.

“Commander Wang.”

“Y-Yes, sir?”

“Tell me about the time your ship got infiltrated five years ago.”

He didn’t have to elaborate for Wang to understand what incident he was referring to. The former commander stiffened, his limbs still remembering the jerky buckling of his limbs as they were wrested into agonizing angles. It was the only time Wang had ever felt true fear, cowering before this formidable girl not even half his age. Staring into those blue eyes, icy and merciless as a frigid wasteland…he knew how close to death he had come.

“The two who attacked my ship that night I now know to be the knave calling himself Fire Lord, along with the Southern Water Tribe princess,” Wang began. “The girl…s-she…she used some sort of wicked sorcery to force me into submission.”

“Sorcery? Do elaborate.”

“I had no control of my body. It was like she was jerking me about like a mere puppet.”

“Bloodbending…” Hanzo concluded, his grin pulling wider to reveal wolf-like teeth. “Fascinating.”

From his desk drawers, he pulled out a scroll with a portrait on it—a detailed illustration of Katara that his intelligence managed to copy. Wang and Yon Rha’s faces paled, both recognizing her instantly.

“Judging by the looks you have, I’m guessing you can confirm the identity of this waterbender,” Hanzo said.

Wang nodded. “That was her. She was the one.”

“I was ambushed by her also,” Yon Rha added, sweat forming on his brow. Then, with a sneer, he said, “Should’ve killed the cunt while I had the chance.”

Hanzo said, “Well, as you’ve evidently failed to do so the first time, it’s no surprise to me that you’d do so for a second time too.”

“You—”

Before Yon Rha lunged more than an inch, he found himself gargling on his own blood with a knife lodged in his throat. Desperately, his eyes wide as a cat deer’s, he vainly tried to stem the fateful wound before collapsing forward, drowning in his own life source. His bladder loosening from fear, Wang whimpered as he watched Hanzo retrieve back his dagger. With absolutely no expression, Hanzo didn’t seem to mind how stained his desk now was, only focused on watching Katara’s portrait turn just as red.

“A little trick I learned from a friend of my former secret lover,” Hanzo said. “However, unlike Fire Lady Mai, I do not bother to waste my time pinning my enemies down or incapacitating them. A life when proven past its use can easily be replaced with a more competent one.”

With a jerk of his chin, he said, “You are free to leave, Commander Wang. You don’t mind taking out the trash, do you?”

“N-No, s-sir,” was the stammered reply.

His fingers getting soaked right away, Wang struggled to drag the heavy corpse of Yon Rha out, a trail of the vile gore slithering behind. Left alone with his two minions, Hanzo’s smirk widened.

“So, the Southern Water Tribe princess is not only at the heart of a scandal, but she just so happens to be a master of a powerful, rare, dark art. This shall certainly be worth observing more closely.”

Fuji frowned. “What do you plan to do with this information, sir?”

Hanzo leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. “So far, we have done well. The world is still fractured, much as some may try to deny it. But with gossip and pandemonium in Caldera City, this is the perfect opportunity. Fire Lord Zuko was already a weakling since the start of his reign. And now his rumored connection with the Water Tribe savage makes him even more so. Trust me, men, alliances are due to crumble now more than ever.” He paused, the smirk never leaving his face. “And when alliances crumble, power shifts.”

He tapped the blood-stained picture of Katara. “Prepare the men. We're going to test just how stable this ‘peace’ really is.”

Chapter Text

Excerpt from Aunt Wu’s Oracle Bone Prediction Records:

Results recorded on Year of the Ox (105 AG), Month of Mei Yue, Day of Gui Si:

Zheng: The birth of his child shall be felicitous. A healthy son shall be born. No complications have been indicated.

Wen Shen: He should give an offering to appease the spirits on a rainy day.

Li Rong: Her crops will be fertile on the third day of the fifth month.  

Izumi: The future she claims to come from is unclear. Yet, aside from the war she speaks of, there seems to be a far more internal one within herself that remains hidden.

Numbers of cheering people crowded around Appa as he descended into the Makapu Village square, a typical phenomenon anywhere the Avatar’s sky bison was spotted. Grinning, Aang waved to their adulation, taking a moment to bask in the limelight he was used to. Behind him, Toph gave an insulted sniff, chagrined at how it seemed everyone considered her, the greatest earthbender in the world, invisible. No wonder Katara got so fed up and left him.

Izumi, on the other hand, was equally in awe as the crowd. It was only one of many amazing sights she had witnessed throughout their journey. She never would’ve imagined seeing such beautiful landscapes from the air. When they had finally arrived, the quaint, mist-shrouded village felt almost like stepping into another world. A gloom cast over her wonderment at the thought that twenty-five years in the future, this peaceful place would be burned to the ground, reduced to nothing but cinders and ashes.

Ty Lee’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. “Izumi, let’s go.”

After escaping the throng and entering Aunt Wu’s abode, their senses were immediately struck by the thick, incense-filled air. Toph and Izumi, unfortunately, not acquainted with such strong scents, couldn’t help but slightly gag. The next thing the group registered was the aged yet serene figure of Aunt Wu, standing right before them as if she had been expecting their arrival all along.

“Greetings, young travellers. And Avatar Aang, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”

“Nice to see you again too, Aunt Wu,” Aang said. “We’ve come to ask for your help about—”

“The future?” Aunt Wu guessed with a deliberate smile.

“Well, of course, lady,” Toph grunted. “Isn’t that the job your clients pay you for?”

An amused gleam shone in the fortuneteller’s eyes as they shifted to gaze upon the blind earthbender. “Indeed, young miss. And in yours, I see a great yearning to prove yourself. A continuous desire that you hide within even now. Perhaps you ought to make these feelings clear to the ones whose approval you seek.”

Toph crossed her arms, her original interest in seeing Aunt Wu snuffed like a flame. Prove herself?! She didn’t have to prove herself! Everyone knew she was the greatest master of earthbending and metalbending on this damn planet. Suddenly, Sokka’s warnings of this crazy granny being a fake now made all sense. And as for what others thought of her, Toph couldn’t care a smidge of an iota. Her tough confidence swayed ever so slightly as the image of her parents’ faces came to mind, but that was swiftly quashed.

Aunt Wu’s lips seemed to tug upwards just a bit knowingly, until she then turned to look at Izumi. For the first time, the fortuneteller faced a disquieting sensation of perplexity at the girl. She had never seen an individual whose path of fate looked so… Aunt Wu couldn’t even think of an exact adjective to describe what she saw—or rather what she failed to see.

It was barrenness. Nothing. And yet, how could it be?

Collecting herself, Aunt Wu bade them all to come round the fire. The group wasted no time explaining their purpose. Aunt Wu listened patiently, her eyes closing for a brief moment as if in meditation, communing with forces beyond their understanding.

Her voice calm yet tinged with gravity, Aunt Wu beckoned for Izumi to come closer to her side. “You are a strange case, young one. I knew it at once when I laid eyes upon you. But after what you’ve just told me about coming from the future, it is now understandable.”

“So, can you give us an idea of how to prevent what is to come?” Izumi asked hopefully.

“Let us consult the oracle bones,” the fortuneteller suggested. “Pick one and throw it into the fire.”

Remembering the familiar ritual, Aang leaned in closer, Toph and Ty Lee’s attention just as riveted. Her brow raised skeptically, Izumi watched the flames consume the bone.

“My goodness…” Aunt Wu breathed. “From what I can tell, child, you have evidently struggled through a lot of pain. Suffered such loss and heartbreak. And I also see that it is an anguish familiar to your bloodline. I see a woman who will suffer more sorrow and torment than any other person has ever known, and her lover will suffer likewise for her. So much so that all who are in love, have known love or have yet to experience it, will marvel at it.”

Four blank faces stared back at her. Aunt Wu’s enigmatic words only made everything else sound even more confusing.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but what about the war?” Toph exclaimed. “All I heard was a bunch of blah, blah, sadness, blah, blah, romance.”

Aunt Wu blinked. “I’m afraid I didn’t see anything about that.”

Everyone’s shoulders sank in grave disappointment and annoyance. Yet, Aunt Wu continued, “The future is vast and intricately woven with choices and events. Some parts are clear, others obscured. Think of it like standing too close to a grand painting or tapestry. You can’t see the entire thing when you are smack in front of it. You can really only fixate on some small details—a brushstroke, a shadow—but their purpose only becomes clear when you take a few steps back to admire the artwork as a whole. So, it is with trials; they are pieces of a greater truth, revealed only in time.”

“Is there anything more specific you can tell us?” Ty Lee pressed.

Aunt Wu sighed. “War may or may not indeed be on the horizon,” she admitted, “but its outcome is unwritten. The choices you make now will shape it. The paths you all decide to choose…that is up to you.” She looked back at Izumi. “Already you have disturbed the shape of the future just by travelling through time.”

Her parting warning sent a chill through the girl. “Remember,” Aunt Wu said, “sometimes, people often meet their destinies on the road they take to avoid it.”

“Well, this trip was pointless,” Toph complained as she, Ty Lee, and Izumi shuffled out.

Only Aang lingered behind. He stepped closer to Aunt Wu, his voice hesitant.

“Five years ago,” he began, “I remember overhearing you tell Katara that she would marry a powerful bender. Well…I always assumed it would be me, especially after you said that, if I just followed my heart, I’d be with my one true love. But now, with Izumi saying Katara will someday marry Zuko…what am I to believe?”

Aunt Wu studied him for a minute before answering in a gentle yet firm tone, “It is true that the heart can lead us, Avatar, but it doesn’t necessarily guarantee what we desire. Love isn’t bound by certainty, nor is it confined by predestined fate. What is certain is what I have just told you and your friends. That every choice you make will ripple through time, shaping the future in ways you may not see.”

“I know that,” Aang sighed. “You once told me that I had the power to shape my own destiny. But it seems like I’m just doing everything wrong. I’m scared that me and Katara won’t end up together. Even I can tell that our relationship is already crumbling. But…she’s my forever girl. I need her by my side.”

“Why is that?”

“What do you mean? I love her! And together we’re going to restore the Air Nomad culture and keep the world at peace.”

“Hm. And you’ve both agreed to this?”

“Well, it’s a given.”

“Hm.” Aunt Wu paused before instructing, “Heed me well, Avatar. Sometimes, it is far more important to listen than to assume. You are an Air Nomad; she is a girl of the Water Tribe. While you may believe Master Katara is fully aligned with you, there are differences you each have that you must mutually respect and appreciate.”

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. “The prophecy meant for Master Katara concerning her future love isn’t for me to unravel further, nor should you let it define your path. Remember, the journey and the heart that guides it matter more than the outcome.”

With that cryptic advice, Aunt Wu ushered him out the door, clearly dismissing him from any further questions. Left with much to ponder and not feeling any better than before, Aang vaulted himself up onto Appa’s head.

“What took you so long, Twinkletoes?” Toph demanded.

“Nothing,” he mumbled back. “Appa, yip, yip!”

From behind his wall of flames, Zuko could tell the mood in the throne room was far from cooperative. Ever since Izumi’s fateful arrival, he had been conscious of the staring eyes wherever he went. And the whispers that’d ignite like sparks after he passed by, although not loud enough to reach his ears, he was nonetheless still sensitive to.

“A future marriage to some backward girl from the Southern Water Tribe of all places! The scandal of it! And such a slanderous humiliation to the Fire Lady Mai.”

“That ‘backward girl’ you speak of is a royal princess in her own right, who has done everything in her power for the benefit of our country since she came here.”

“Even so, the Fire Nation Royal Family has remained pure blooded for centuries. Are we to be compliant about the possibility of it being sullied? Are we to accept a potential waterbending babe being Fire Lord Zuko’s heir?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Her Majesty has been currently expecting for a long time now. And, with Agni’s blessing, she already carries our state’s future.”  

“If this birth doesn’t end in tragedy like the others.”

“Are none of us going to address the elephant koi in the room? I think a future war is of far greater concern than whoever our sovereign decides to wed.”

“If what that little girl said isn’t a pack of lies—about the Princess Katara and our Fire Lord fighting against this ‘Bloodbending Queen’—would that not be in our favour?”

These were but of the many others that Zuko had heard over the past couple of days; these were just the most common ones. His Grand Council was currently seated before him, and though nobody spoke, he could read their thoughts from the glances they gave in his direction.

The schedule and topic of their meeting. The gossip flying about.

It was not hard to sense which of the two was running prevalently through the minds of his councilmembers.

Zuko sent a silent prayer to Agni that this meeting would be just like any other and that they’d all focus on the task at hand. Although considering how his council had the pleasure of every so often twisting the knife into one another, he knew it was mere wishful thinking on his part. Spirits, it was baffling that his Grand Council actually got anything done, even without time-travelling girls falling from the sky!

“Let’s begin, shall we?” Zuko said, his voice steady but edged with fatigue. “I understand that there’s been some discontent regarding the Elemental Expo’s preparations?”

Kenzo was the first to speak. “Indeed, Your Majesty. And not just from a handful of people. The reports we’ve been receiving from various regions are concerning. There’s a feeling that things are not going as smoothly as we had hoped. And it’s not just the people of the Fire Nation complaining. Delegates from the other nations are too.” He paused as if gauging the reactions of everyone else. “It appears that their primary complaint concerns late payments, some still being weeks overdue.”

“Late payments?” Zuko echoed. He angrily shot a look towards Tatsunori, demanding an explanation. “How can this be? The account records you gave me left me under the impression that everything was settled.”

The Royal Treasurer appeared unruffled, however. He gave a mocking bow of his head to Kenzo. “With all due respect to the Grand Secretary, there must be some mistake. I’ve already ensured all the payments for the Expo’s preparations were handled, Your Majesty. If any payments were missed, it must be due to a misunderstanding. The royal coffers are sufficient to cover all expected expenses, so I do not know how this can be.”

Hahn snapped, “Well, that’s not what we’re hearing! Many of the Northern Water Tribe people who’ve travelled here are still unpaid, and their complaints are escalating. They’ve come to help your people set up and do all this prep work, ready to show their exhibitions and wares, only to not be treated with the respect they deserve!”

“The Southern Water Tribe as well,” Sokka chimed in. “People are now spreading rumours that the Expo is being used as a distraction from other underlying issues at hand. It’s not just about the money. There’s a bigger feeling of distrust and frustration.”

Haru added his voice to the mounting dissatisfaction. “Earth Kingdom entertaining troupes, constructing teams, and merchandisers too. Even some of our soldiers who’ve come to aid in security have reported that their wages are incomplete or being delayed. This isn’t just a simple oversight, Your Majesty, no matter what Treasurer Tatsunori may claim.”

“You damn pigheaded fool,” Tatsunori spluttered, “are you questioning my professional competence—”

“That is enough, my lord.” Iroh’s firm voice cut Tatsunori off mid-protest. “I’m sure there is an explanation for all this. But we cannot ignore these complaints. It is crucial that we address them before they escalate. We’ve all seen how a small spark can set a flame to unrest.”

“The answer is clear, in my opinion,” Ukano grunted. “We sort out the financial discrepancy right away and have the accounts reconciled one more time—as many times as necessary.”

“And perhaps delegate more people to oversee the process, lest His Lordship misses something or is overwhelmed,” Michi suggested, turning a deadpan eye at Tatsunori.

“Why you—”

“Tatsunori,” Zuko warned. He then turned to Michi. “That is an excellent idea, Lady Michi. Grand Secretary Kenzo, I trust I can let you see to appointing some supervisors for the distribution of the funds?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“This is an unjust denigration of my character!” Tatsunori cried out. “To be slandered and have my capabilities accused in this way when I’ve served this great nation for years!”

Like a broken record, an uproar surged as everyone started talking over one another, Kenzo and Iroh both failing to calm the argument. Only Katara and Haishi had remained quiet through it all, both not wanting to add to the tumult. However, Katara was silent for a different reason. Normally, the waterbender would be very vocal during such meetings, but a nagging feeling in the back of her head made her sit back in reflection. Something wasn’t right about all these delays and logistical oversights.  

“Enough.” Zuko’s voice cut through the silence, calling for silence. “We can argue all day about who is at fault, but we still must pay every single amount. Tatsunori, you already said that there is enough in the royal coffers. I expect you and whoever Grand Secretary Kenzo assigns to help will have it done immediately.”

Tatsunori bristled. “For all we know, these ‘complaints’ could just be lies spun up so they can earn more and squeeze all our funds dry—”

Katara spoke at last, narrowing her eyes at the Royal Treasurer. “With the influx of people coming for the Elemental Expo, and the tourism it will bring to the Fire Nation, the difference will be paid back. The festivities will bring income, create goodwill with allies, and help restore the trust of the Fire Nation. A short-term expense like this is an investment worth making in the long-term benefit.”

The room fell silent as her words hung in the air, met with a few nods of agreement. With a smile, Iroh said, “Yes, a fine point you have made, my dear. Perhaps indeed if the Elemental Expo proves successful, this shall pave the way towards this country returning to an age of prosperity that wasn’t based on warfare. Now that this matter seems to be settled, I think it would be best if we carry on with other issues at hand—with Fire Lord Zuko’s permission, of course?”

Zuko waved a hand in acknowledgement. With the decision finalized, the council relaxed a little as Kenzo proceeded to impart granary stock reports. Tension still lingering within him, Zuko tried not to fidget on his throne. He just couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to play than just a few misplaced payments. Something bigger was happening—something he couldn’t quite see yet.

The Royal Gallery was eerily quiet as Katara passed through, her footsteps echoing down the long hall. It had once been where imposing portraits of past Fire Lords had been displayed. Now, upon Zuko’s orders, it showcased narrative paintings of the Fire Nation's history of a less violent nature. There were also many others that he had purchased from other places around the world. As it turned out, Zuko was an avid collector and patron of artwork.

Katara stopped to admire one that depicted a summit meeting between Fire Lady Masako and Princess Naula of the Northern Water Tribe. According to the engraved brass plate underneath the painting, the two had been good friends, exchanged letters regularly, and played active roles in strengthening the ties of their nations. Katara’s mood dampened when she remembered another Fire Lady whom she called her friend.

After the Grand Council meeting concluded, she went to Mai’s chambers to ensure the Fire Lady was resting comfortably and to see if any help was required. It had been a strained interaction as expected. The moment she had entered, she could feel the awkwardness in the air. Though Mai acted no differently than she normally would and betrayed no emotion, it was still painfully clear that their friendship had changed. Katara wondered if this was a fracture that could mend, and if so, how long would it take?

Turning away from the painting, Katara’s feet paused midway, and her blood froze at the sight of who was approaching. Standing tall, having grown since she last saw her five years ago, Azula strode forward, her chin set and her pace unwavering. Her hair was left completely down, and her face was devoid of makeup, making her look younger than her nineteen years. Accompanying her was Yagoda, the Northern Water Tribe healer who had been tending to her medical care for some time, and Jee, who had recently been promoted to Admiral and now served as Azula’s personal bodyguard.

Katara tensed, prepared to open her waterskin, but the Fire Nation princess only scoffed, breaking the silence with her familiar biting tone. “Oh, relax. Much as I wouldn’t hate the idea of burning you to a crisp, it’s not like I can anyway—not with my bending gone.”

Her mental state deteriorating ever since the war’s end, Azula’s bending had mysteriously vanished over time. It was one of the many unanswered questions lingering around her, but the most unsettling of them was how the once-feared and powerful princess had fallen so far.

Yagoda gave a soft, but firm chide. “Your Highness…”

Azula merely dismissed her with a lazy wave, rolling her head as if to shake off the reprimand. “Besides, I’m more concerned about raiding the cellars right now. I’m in need of more fire whiskey,” she said, her tone playful but wild. Her eyes glazed over, her lips curling with a maddened giggle. “I drink oceans of it.”

Uneasy, Katara watched in silence while Yagoda frowned in concern. “You shouldn’t, Your Highness,” the elderly woman said. “It worsens your health.”

Once again, Azula waved her off carelessly, not even looking at the healer as she continued, “Ugh, what do you know? I feel fine. More than fine, actually. I could do with a few more bottles.”

It was surprising for Katara to see Azula out of her chambers, as she had never encountered the princess during her two months in the palace. Zuko had once mentioned that Azula preferred keeping to her rooms. Rumour had it that she rarely left her private quarters at all, only venturing out at night for exercise around the careful watch of Yagoda and Jee.  

From what Katara understood, after the Hundred Year War, Zuko had asked Chief Arnook if he could send an experienced healer to assist Azula. Obviously, the chief had been less than thrilled. The memory of the attack on Agna Qel’a and his daughter’s sacrifice, coupled with Azula’s role in the war, made him deeply hostile to the idea of helping. But Yagoda, a compassionate soul, had reminded Arnook about Yue’s selfless kindness. The war now being over, it was time for bridges to be mended. So, with the chief’s half-hearted permission, Yagoda packed her bags and made the journey to the Fire Nation, bringing a vial of water from the Spirit Oasis to aid in Azula’s recovery treatment.

Zuko would’ve asked Yagoda to do the same for Mai during her multiple pregnancies. But he knew Chief Arnook would be unwilling to give away the Spirit Water so liberally on a whim to every person who asked. Zuko didn’t want to push his luck twice.

Azula’s mental healing was a successful miracle, but even so, Zuko still kept a watchful eye on his sister for the safety of herself and others. Though her snarky humour remained as biting as ever, at least Yagoda declared her less erratically unstable. Nevertheless, Zuko was proud of Azula’s progress so far.

Katara, however, was less assured, no matter what reassurances Yagoda may have given. She continued to uneasily stand there, trying to process the odd encounter and waiting for Azula to show even the slightest indication of stepping a toe out of line.

But from what she could tell, Azula appeared more bored than blood-thirsty, turning her head to uninterestedly examine an ink painting to her left. “Zuzu really has no taste,” she drawled, not taking her eyes off the artwork. “Taking down all the portraits of the Fire Lords—our nation’s greatest symbols of strength and power—and replacing them with meaningless works. This one, for instance,” she gestured to the piece, “looks like a five-year-old’s scribbles.”

Katara bristled at the insult, for it was Sokka’s painting—the one he did of their group at the Jasmine Dragon after the war. A simple, heartfelt depiction of their friendship. Zuko had it framed, and it was his most cherished piece in the Royal Gallery.

“It’s not meaningless,” Katara snapped, her tone sharp despite her best efforts not to let Azula get to her. “It matters a lot to him.”

A bitter smile curled Azula’s lips, and she only chuckled, “Zuzu puts too much sentimental value on the most mundane things. He cares too much for his own good; I’m living proof of that.”

Met with Katara raising an eyebrow in question, Azula continued, “If Zuzu had any real sense, he’d have executed me and Father a long time ago. Not left us alive to possibly be broken out by our supporters and wreak havoc. But, of course, that’s my dear big brother’s way, isn’t it? The ‘benevolent and charismatic’ rule. He’d rather keep Father in jail and me under house arrest, and live life in constant fear of a coup.” Azula’s eyes hardened as she said the last part, but then she suddenly giggled to herself, shaking her head. “He would’ve saved himself a lot of trouble if he had just ended it all.”

“And you think you’d be the better ruler?” Katara wryly challenged.

Azula scoffed, her expression darkening. She was raised to be perfect. Smarter, stronger, better. And for a time, she was. Everything that Zuko was not. Everything her father wanted her to be. And yet…she had fallen. She had lost it all. Her crown. Her bending. Her control. To Azula, there was no greater humiliation. What kind of strong monarch could she possibly be after all that?

“Not anymore. I know how they all see me. It’s not like I’m blind.” A hollow laugh escaped her lips. “Do you know what they call me? The Mad Princess. Ozai with tits and a cunt.”

“Your Highness,” Yagoda gasped.

Katara and Jee also flinching at Azula’s crude words, they watched as her eyes glazed over again, her voice trailing off, “Even with both of us locked away, I’m still in Father’s shadow. Always will be.”

Katara frowned, the face of Aang appearing in her mind. She didn’t like how easily she could relate.

“Speaking of gossip,” Azula said, her mocking tone returning, “I hear you’ve been the subject of some, haven’t you, peasant?”

There was a mask of malicious curiosity plastered over her face in her attempt to get under the waterbender’s skin. But just as quickly as it appeared, her demeanour faltered again. Her snarky look faded, and her golden eyes were fixed into the distance as if she were looking at something that only she could see. From what she witnessed throughout their entire conversation, Katara could tell Azula’s swift mood changes were indications that her mental faculties, while improved after healing, would never be the same as before.  

They were interrupted by Zuko’s voice cutting in sharply from behind, “It’s Master Katara, Azula.” The waterbender smiled just a little at how he didn’t refer to her as “Princess Katara”.

Pulled out of her dazed stupor, Azula’s smug smile returned. “Zuzu…” she crooned, the hint of twisted affection in her tone more unsettling than anything else.

Zuko’s voice was firm as he came closer. “Leave Katara alone, Azula.”

Without missing a beat, he then turned to Jee and Yagoda. “Escort her back to her chambers,” he ordered.

Unbothered, Azula gave a loose, floppy wave of her hand. “By the way, Zuzu, I want more fire whiskey. Get one of the servants to bring some by. It’s been two days since I felt hungover—far too long for my liking.”

Wearily, Zuko simply let out a heavy sigh and shook his head as his sister was led away, her eyes unfocused, and her words lost in the haze of her mind. Katara stood still, the tension in the Royal Gallery dissipating as she processed the strange encounter. Despite Azula’s sarcasm, the waterbender could sense a layer of something more complex under the princess’s words.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked.

“Yeah, just…taken aback a little. But I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry for what she said.”

But Katara shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize for her. While it’s no excuse, I know she isn’t in her right state of mind.”

“Let me know if she tries bothering you again though, alright?”

“I’ll be fine, Zuko. I can take care of myself.”

An emotion she couldn’t identify seemed to pass over Zuko’s face as he murmured, “I know you can.”

Before Katara could figure out the change in the atmosphere and why it felt so familiar, Zuko cleared his throat. His expression returning to normal, he said, “I just finished with my paperwork for the day and was heading for the Royal Archives. Just to see if there’s anything useful on Nobukazu or anything else that might be important. I roped in Uncle Kenzo as well, and he said he’ll be joining me later after he finishes some other stuff. Would you also like to join me?”

At Katara’s acquiescence, Zuko led her through the palace before stopping before one of the wall panels. Making sure there was nobody around except the two of them, he slid the panel open. Gesturing for Katara to enter first, Zuko took one last look about in the hallway, before slipping in after her and closing the panel behind them. Part of a labyrinth of other secret tunnels, this one would lead them directly to the Dragonbone Catacombs underneath the High Temple.

“How do you think Aang and the others are?” Katara asked. “Have they sent any sort of update about getting answers?”

“I got no word from any of them. But judging by how many days have passed since their departure, I’m sure they’ll have reached Makapu Village by now. You know, that time I was helped out by June when I was still chasing you guys around the world, Aunt Wu took a fancy to my uncle as we were passing through.”

Katara burst out into laughter. “Wait, seriously?”

Zuko let out something between a snort and a chuckle. “Yeah. She called him handsome and asked if he wanted his fortune told.” He paused before asking, “Did you get your fortune told when you were in Makapu Village?”

He did not miss how Katara’s lips pressed shut like a clam, the laughter in her eyes fading away. “Yes,” she said after a minute. “But now, I don’t know what to think about it.”

Seeing she was unwilling to reveal anything further, Zuko respected her boundaries and chose not to press her about it. They eventually arrived in the Royal Archives section of the Dragonbone Catacombs, the air heavy with centuries of history. Dim torchlight flickered against the carved walls, casting eerie shadows over the vast collection of scrolls, statues, and stored relics. Katara trailed behind Zuko as he led the way, her eyes widening with awe as she took in the sheer enormity of it all. It was almost as impressive as Wan Shi Tong’s library.

“Wow…” Katara breathed.

Zuko smiled faintly, casually picking up an accordion book and skimming through it. “I was equally amazed my first time coming here. But since becoming a very busy Fire Lord, I haven’t been able to return as often as I’d like to.” He fell silent before confessing, “It was here that I learned the truth about my great-grandfathers, Sozin and Roku.”

Her eyes widening, Katara whipped her head to look at him. “Avatar Roku was one of your great-grandfathers?!”

“Yeah.”

A mischievous look that appeared so similar to one Toph would give formed on the waterbender’s face. “Aw, how sweet. You’re Aang’s great-grandson.”

“Stop…” Zuko groaned.

Even in the poorly lit archives, Katara could faintly make out the blush on his cheeks, almost as red as his scar. Letting out one last giggle, she dubbed him embarrassed enough that she wouldn’t tease him any further. Their steps echoed as they entered an adjoining wide hall lined with more shelves that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Zuko gestured to a section to his left filled with delicate scrolls. “This is dedicated purely to poems. Personally, it’s my favourite area of this whole place.”

Katara listened in fascination as he continued, “Back before the war, poetry was an essential tradition of the Fire Nation’s sophisticated court—a time when art, music, and culture flourished. Unfortunately, they and a lot of cultural practices got lost during the war as they were deemed too ‘weak, trivial, and idle’. But Mai and I are trying to bring them back. To show that our country can be rich and renowned without the need for military conquest.”

“I’d love to see that happen.”

“You’re in luck. Sokka privately suggested to me about having a poetry contest during one of the gala dinners for the Expo. He said something along the lines of having to redeem himself due to some sort of haiku incident in Ba Sing Se. Mai and I tried writing a few poems ourselves, but…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I don’t think mine are that great.”

Katara flashed a teasing grin. “Oh, come on, Zuko. Now I have to hear one. You can’t leave me hanging.”

His golden eyes darting away, the Fire Lord relented, “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Clearing his throat, he softly recited:

I remember nights when the embers burned low,

When even flames could fall silent and cold.

Your hands, warm as the morning sun,

Tracing away the battles I hadn’t yet won.

Your smile so beautiful and yet so rare,

Its fleetingness making it the fairest of the fair.

Though I may not know the places you roam,

Through fire, through ashes, I’ll bring you home.

His words hung in the air, raw and heartfelt. Katara’s lips were parted ever so slightly in wonderment. The verses were simple, yet so passionate. Whoever Zuko had written the letter for, it certainly had more than its desired effect, for even her own heart couldn’t help beating a little faster.

“I didn’t take you for such a romantic, Zuko,” she teased. “Did you write that for Mai?”

“No. It’s…about my mother.”

Katara’s cheeks flushed with shame, realizing her mistake. She placed a shoulder on his shoulder gently. “If your mom were here, I think she’d love it.”

Zuko gave her a small, grateful smile, which fell a little when she added, “You’ll find her someday, Zuko. I know you will.”

“I’ll never give up hope…yet at the same time, part of me feels like it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Zuko…”

“I’ve done everything I could think of, Katara,” the Fire Lord sighed. “Sent out men. Put out notices everywhere. I even recruited June and her shirshu, yet they also turned up with nothing. Fath—Ozai refuses to tell me anything. It’s been five years now since I’ve been proclaimed Fire Lord. So, it made me fear…if the worst hasn’t happened and she is out there somewhere, what if it’s because she doesn’t want to see me?”

Before Katara could gently rebut this, Kenzo’s voice rang out, “Your Majesty, are you in here already?”

Zuko straightened. “Yes, Uncle Kenzo, we’re right here. But we haven’t found anything useful yet—nothing on Nobukazu that I didn’t already know.”

The Grand Secretary stepped into view, his aged face lit by a mysterious smile. He cryptically said, “That’s likely because you weren’t searching in the right place.”

He approached a dragon statue near the far wall before pressing down one of its claws. A sharp click sounded, followed by a deep rumble as the floor beneath them trembled. The stone beast slid aside to reveal a hidden chamber. A large cloud of dust billowed out, making all three of them start hacking. Clearly, nobody had been in this particular room for ages.

“I didn’t know this was here,” Zuko said in awe. “Are the Fire Sages aware of this particular room as well?

Shaking his head, Kenzo answered, “Only the Fujiwara Clan know of its existence. As Grand Secretaries—keepers of the Fire Nation’s secrets—it has been our duty since the reign of the first Fire Lord to guard the knowledge in here.”

Zuko and Katara were caught by surprise at how bare the vast chamber was. For a place that safeguarded centuries of information, it sure was empty. Only three of its multiple shelves were full. Perhaps there was a certain criterion for what could be placed in here. Every scroll and artifact in here spoke of pasts buried long ago—too valuable or too dangerous to risk being placed with all the others.

Kenzo carefully retrieved a scroll made of bamboo strips bound together, laying it on a nearby table. “This is the only surviving full record we have of Fire Lord Nobukazu and the chronicles of the Great War. A conflict that nearly wiped out the entire Fire Nation long before the Hundred Year War.”

“I never really knew much about the Great War except what my tutors and Uncle Iroh told me,” Zuko said. “But even all they knew was that Nobukazu started the conflict, the Fire Nation lost, and that’s just about it.”

“I don’t know much myself either,” Katara admitted. “History in the Water Tribes is passed down orally, but even I know that some narrators may be biased and add their own spins, whether they’re true or not.”

Kenzo explained, “Fire Lord Nobukazu’s son, Fire Lord Tojo, had all the documents about it destroyed and the mention of the topic illegal, out of anger that the Fire Nation lost in the first place. One of my forefathers had been a veteran of the Great War. He and the rest of the Fujiwaras managed to hide what surviving documents they had—the full text, which we have right here. Unfortunately, the others are but fragments.”

Not wanting to miss a single word, Katara and Zuko listened intently as Kenzo continued to unravel the tale. “It all began when the then Crown Prince Nobukazu fell deeply in love with Princess Karina of the Northern Water Tribe and married her in secret. But Nobukazu’s father, Fire Lord Jingu, disapproved of the union and secretly orchestrated Karina’s assassination. An Earth Kingdom agent, hired by Jingu, carried out the deed, igniting the start of the chaos. Enraged by the loss of his beloved and unaware of Jingu’s hand in it, Nobukazu ascended the throne after his father’s death and declared war on the Earth Kingdom. Vengeance consumed him in his grief; he even had Karina proclaimed Fire Lady posthumously and forced his court to bow before her preserved corpse.”

“Eugh!” Zuko exclaimed with a shudder, Katara looking equally repulsed.

“Initially, the Northern Water Tribe allied with the Fire Nation out of shared rage, but their alliance fractured when they discovered it was the former Fire Lord who ordered Karina’s death. In addition, Nobukazu refused to cede control of the Southern Water Tribe to them as he had promised, keeping most of it for the Fire Nation. Betrayed, the Northern Water Tribe switched sides at the last minute, aligning with the Earth Kingdom. After the war, the League of Elements was formed under the guidance of Avatar Yuen—a worldwide international organization whose main mission was maintaining global peace. Signing a treaty, every nation was made to swear to never start another Great War again.”

“Where was that organization when Sozin declared war?” Katara muttered.

“It failed and eventually disbanded due to multiple factors beforehand, most of them being due to a weak structure and lack of enforcement,” Kenzo said. “But continuing from where we left off, the Great War’s devastation was immense, and the Fire Nation wasn’t spared either. Its economy was in shambles, its people were starving, and its military was severely crippled—much like the rest of the world.

“However, the Fire Nation had to bear the brunt due to the war reparations burden that the League of Elements imposed. The country was forced to lose territory, demilitarize, and pay a huge amount of money that it didn’t have. The Fire Nation, as a result, was left broken, its pride shattered for many generations. Out of this despair, Fire Lord Sozin rose, promising to restore the country to its former glory—a feat which we know he accomplished. But as we all know, his ambitions didn’t end with prosperity.”

Zuko frowned deeply. “This changes everything I’ve learned about the Great War. I always assumed Nobukazu sought power like Sozin.”

“So did I,” Katara said.

Kenzo took off his glasses, using his robes to polish them. “Nobukazu wasn’t driven by greed or ambition. His downfall was love. Love blinded him, consumed him, and ultimately destroyed him.”

Disturbed, Katara asked, “Is there anything in this scroll that perhaps could tell us about a curse connected to Nobukazu?”

There appeared to be so, judging by the expression on Kenzo’s face as if recalling a lost memory. He unfurled the bamboo scroll all the way, letting them see the script at the end but neither Katara nor Zuko could read it. Unlike the rest of the text, it was written in blood red ink as opposed to black. Something about the spidery handwriting gave them an ominous feeling.

“What does this say?” Katara asked.

The Grand Secretary hesitated before answering, “They are the last words of Fire Lord Nobukazu. On his deathbed, he uttered a curse which is written here: The life of my princess may have been stolen…but as Agni is my witness, another shall come. More powerful than any other before her, with the moon and waters at her command. The same fiery passion that consumed Karina and I shall blind and burn her world too. Blood will stain her hands and her crown. And when all have drowned in the tears she shed, my revenge shall be complete.”

The words hung heavily in the air. Even the candles lit about the room seemed to burn cold flames. Katara and Zuko exchanged uneasy glances, their minds racing. The curse aligned too closely with the warning Koh gave Izumi. It just couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

Gravely, Kenzo said, “History has a way of repeating itself if we aren’t vigilant. The small cracks in a foundation are what allow the rot to seep in. It was true of Nobukazu’s reign, and it could prove true now. Nobukazu and Karina’s love for each other was said to be just as staunch and steadfast as Oma and Shu’s…but just as tragic. And millions died for it.”

Katara shivered, the weight of the curse settling over her like a storm cloud. Zuko, equally unsettled, could only thank his uncle before leading Katara out, barely conscious of anything else. Neither of them spoke on the way back to the palace, the silence filled with the grim understanding that this history might not be as distant as it seemed.

Was war indeed imminent?

Chapter Text

Excerpt from the eye-witness account of Lady Yukari:

(Editor’s note: Lady Yukari (c. 67 AG-125 AG) was a minor noblewoman from Ember Island who had once been friends with the Princess Ursa before her banishment. Remembering her kindness to his mother, Fire Lord Zuko allowed Lady Yukari the privilege of being a frequent visitor to the royal palace. As a result, many journal entries of Lady Yukari allow contemporary scholars a glimpse of the tumultuous court life during the Cold War era…)

As expected, General Iroh had wasted no expense in the preparations for Fire Lord Zuko’s twenty-first birthday. A grand celebration was held throughout the kingdom—I even saw wine flowing from the fountains on my way to the palace! The banquet was unlike anything I’d ever imagined before featuring delicacies from across the world. I remember Lord Jin, a former Ozai supporter, joking to me that if there was one thing he didn’t mind about the new regime, it was all the exotic food being imported.

There was one disturbance to the feasting and dancing, however, when Treasurer Tatsunori began harassing the Princess Katara. I don’t know exactly what the argument was about nor how it started. But it was quickly brought to an end once Fire Lord Zuko and the Avatar intervened. My likely guess is that it was just the Royal Treasurer being his usual arrogant and hot-headed self. However, almost everyone else I socialized with tonight believed it had to do something with the recent rumours of Fire Lord Zuko and the Princess Katara brought on by that mysterious little girl.

Sunlight of the late afternoon was just beginning to slant across the red and gold roofs of Caldera City, when Team Avatar had finally finished sharing their discoveries. Aang, Toph, Ty Lee, and Izumi had returned an hour later, and the others could tell by their grim expressions that the news they had were not optimistic. In fact, the first thing Toph had grumpily said was that Sokka was right about that old lady, and he could give himself a cookie for it. In spite of the mystery surrounding it all, one thing was clear as they pieced together the threads of their collective findings. Aunt Wu’s cryptic answers, the tragic truth behind the Great War, and Nobukazu’s curse painted a disturbing picture. One that seemed to connect in ways none of them could dismiss as mere coincidence.

As she listened intently to the others, Katara’s gaze kept drifting toward Aang who sat quietly in the corner, his staff resting across his knees. There was a sadness in his grey eyes, but something deeper lay underneath—a shadow of an emotion she couldn’t place. When their eyes met, Katara felt a chill. Whatever it was, it wasn’t like him, and it unsettled her deeply.

Glancing outside at the large stone sundial in the courtyard, Suki interrupted the tense discussion. “We should all start getting ready now. The ball starts in an hour.”

Izumi’s interest perked up at once. “A ball? For what?”

“The lil’ birthday boy right here,” Sokka teased, throwing an arm over Zuko’s shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“By the way, is that a strand of grey hair I see coming on ya, Sparky?” Toph joked.

Shoving Sokka’s arm off, Zuko grumpily turned on Toph saying, “I’m not even thirty; I don’t have—” He halted mid-sentence when the earthbender cheekily waved her hand in front of her eyes. “Never mind.”

“Suki’s right though. While I know it’s a thing to be ‘fashionably late’, we wouldn’t want the Fire Lord tardy for his own birthday party nor his friends,” Ty Lee said. “We can all talk later.”

Feeling her sleeve being gently tugged, she was met with Izumi’s eyes looking as round as deer puppy’s. “Please, please, please, can I go?” Izumi begged. “I’ve never been to a ball before.”

Ty Lee looked up at Zuko, contemplating whether it’d be wise for the girl who caused such a stir to be present at his ball. If Zuko was thinking the same, he showed no sign of any reservations. Something about Izumi’s eager desire managed to tug the strings of his heart for some reason.

Zuko shrugged his shoulders, kindly smiling at the girl. “I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you, Zuko!” Izumi threw her arms around the Fire Lord’s waist.

She was about to do an odd little dance in glee when she caught Katara following the others out of the room to prepare. It was the way she retreated like a shadow that made Izumi pause before hurrying after her.

“Katara, can I go with you?”

The waterbender blinked in surprise but nodded. “Sure.”

The pair of them, along with Ty Lee, walked together down the palace corridors towards Katara’s quarters. Izumi bit her lip before saying, “Katara, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For making you unhappy. I could tell that ever since I’ve come here, you’ve been upset.”

Katara continued to stare straight ahead. She couldn’t find it in herself to blame Izumi, who had only been doing what she thought was right. The little girl had risked coming to a timeline she was unfamiliar with, all to stop an impending war.

“I’m not upset with you, Izumi,” Katara gently replied. “What you did was a brave thing. I’m just a bit restless cause…”

“…you and Avatar Aang are dating. Toph may have mentioned it on our way to Makapu Village.”

Ty Lee, ever the optimistic one, said, “Don’t worry, you two. We’ll all get through this.” Then, addressing Katara, she added, “You and Aang have done the impossible together in the past. I know this may seem a hurdle, but I believe in you both, Katara.”

While unable to deny the truth of Ty Lee’s words, Katara could barely find comfort in them. Yes, she and Aang had achieved great things but how many times had they had done so by her having to constantly sacrifice for it? Was this how things were supposed to be in love? Her having to prioritize Aang’s needs and well-being before her own simply because he was the Avatar? Was this really the life she was choosing by being with him?

“Katara?”

Pulled out of her thoughts, Katara realized that she had accidentally passed by her own room, identified by the carved Water Tribe insignia on its door. Looking past Ty Lee and Izumi’s perplexed looks, she doubled back, opening her door and letting them in.

Izumi entered, expecting Katara’s quarters to look just like the rest of the plush sleeping chambers within the palace. Instead, she was taken aback to find it very distinctly Water Tribe-influenced, not a spot of red in sight, while retaining sumptuous luxury as befit its occupant’s royal station. The carved four-poster bed was hung with gauzy blue drapes, its mattress covered with multiple pillows and furs. Crowned by a moulded ceiling featuring ornate details of waves and koi fish, the walls shimmered with silver. Bolted to one of them were a few bookshelves with a comfortable sitting area in front. Across on the other side of the room were painted folding screens next to an impressive wardrobe and dressing table.

But the best feature of the bedchamber was the breathtaking views offered. From here, Izumi could look from the palace gardens down below to the farthest corner of the city. She guessed that Katara’s quarters had been remodelled upon Zuko’s orders as an act of kindness to his friend. She wondered if he had extended the same generosity to all the other foreigners living under his roof.

Her eyes next drawn to Katara choosing an outfit from her wardrobe, Izumi was struck dumb. Never had she seen fabrics of such magnificence as these: great bolts of velvet and silk; cloth in Water Tribe blues, royal purples, and silver; jewelled hair ornaments and sash pendants with dangling tassels…

Izumi skipped over and ran her fingers over a gown embossed with a damask pattern sewn to look like fire lilies. “Ooh, this one is pretty!”

“Chosen by yours truly—almost all of these, in fact,” Ty Lee made sure to proudly point out. Then in a dramatic tone, she added, “I was absolutely appalled when I found out Katara’s wardrobe wasn’t even half full.”

“Because I couldn’t possibly need this many in the first place,” Katara said. But since she was smirking, she didn’t sound particularly annoyed.

“Nevertheless, it still called for a shopping day,” Ty Lee argued.

“If you say so.”

Next examining a comb shaped to look like a crescent moon, Izumi tucked it into her topknot and paused to admire herself in the mirror. Then, with a jesting smile, she held her hand out to Ty Lee commanding, “Bow before the queen.”

Playing along, the Kyoshi Warrior took her palm and knelt saying, “Your Majesty,” earning a giggle.

The lighthearted interaction made Katara equally amused for a split second, until her eyes drifted to the mirror. Rather than the Katara she recognized, her mind saw a tall woman dressed regally in royal robes with a crown nestled in her hair, fierce pride flashing in her eyes… A total stranger. The hallucination made her feel like a venomous spider snake was in front of her instead.

If, spirits forbid, they were unable to stop any of this, what would this future version of herself be like in the years to come? She tried to think of Mai, who barely seemed to do anything other than be a babymaker. The idea was more repellent to Katara than when she still remained in Aang’s shadow. Would she just be made to fit in some other cheap mold, only one expected of a well-bred Fire Nation noblewoman? Instead of the Avatar’s girl, would she be only known as the Fire Lord’s wife?

‘Zuko could never ask that of you though,’ a tiny voice inside her reasoned. ‘He’d never let such a thing happen.’

Then, if so—dare she hope—would she continue playing an active role as she was doing now? With a higher position and authority, would she be able help more people? Achieve things that only seemed possible in dreams?

Her voice barely above a whisper, Katara found herself asking, “Izumi…what do people say I’m like?”

Izumi tilted her head. “In the future, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. From what I’ve heard…you were kind and did a lot of charitable work. A benevolent Fire Lady well-loved by all the common people. They liked you because you were apparently…” Izumi searched for the right description. “…more personal and relatable, compared to past Fire Nation royalty. Oh, and it was also said that you were the most powerful waterbender in the world!”

A strong force seemed to surge within Katara’s chest, and she had to take a deep breath to quell it. Guilt plagued her. She shouldn’t be feeling this—this pang of pride. And yet, wasn’t that what she always wanted? To be esteemed for her own abilities? But it was wrong…it was wrong to Aang, to Zuko, to Mai… How could she entertain the thought of such a fantasy?

There was still one question Katara had dreaded asking. “Izumi, the day you came…you said that in the future I supposedly disappear. Do you know why?”

“Sorry, I don’t. One day, you just stopped appearing in public and were never seen again. People had theories. Most just believed you wanted to seclude yourself in the palace. Personally, I always believed that Fire Lord Zuko survived, and you were both still out there somewhere.”

Katara’s tongue was frozen. To think of an answer was impossible, which was probably a good thing as she felt if she opened her mouth, she’d hurl.

Unaware, Izumi’s eyes shone with that dreamy far-off look she’d always have when thinking of her favourite stories. “The elders always used to say that Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara would die for each other. That one heart could not beat without the other. That—”

Sensing Katara’s aura becoming increasingly grey, Ty Lee saved her by exclaiming, “I just realized we need to find something for you to wear tonight, Izumi! Come, I think I know a person we could ask for an outfit your size. Let’s allow Katara to get ready herself, shall we?”

With no resistance met, Ty Lee took Izumi by the hand and led her out, only catching a brief glimpse of the grateful look Katara sent her way. Left alone, the waterbender found herself unable to shake away all these differing images of herself.

A beloved ruler…

A recluse lost in time…

A woman madly in love…

For more than a century, the palace ballroom hadn’t been put to its proper use, its great doors locked and its elegant fixtures collecting dust. But upon Iroh’s orders, for the first time in years, the magnificent hall breathed life having awoken from its cold empty slumber. Aglow with warm hues, bronze torches and hundreds of gold lanterns cast a festive atmosphere over the activity down below. Courtiers and nobles filled the expansive ballroom, dressed in elegant attire that paid homage to their respective cultures’ rich traditions. A band of musicians played lively tunes, transitioning seamlessly between styles as couples danced to rhythms lost over a hundred years. The music was almost drowned out however, amidst the sound of laughter, and the hum of conversation.

After hearing all the over-the-top ideas his uncle had, Zuko had been starting to regret capitulating to letting him be his birthday planner. By Agni, was there really a need for all the straws to have frilly lace collars around them?

At least, one of the few things they did agree on was showcasing a lot of international dishes for the guests to try. Lining the walls were numerous banquet tables groaning with opulent dishes expected at any other feast fit for royalty. Exotic fruits and vegetables from the Earth Kingdom, carved to look like large cherry blossoms. Water Tribe seaweed wraps, and shellfish drizzled in various sauces. Savoury Fire Nation meats still turning on their spits. Air Nomad cakes and other pastries sweetened with wild honey. Waterfalls of wine and other spirits, and of course, new teas made by Iroh himself.

“I know you think that most of what I had planned was a little…unnecessary,” Iroh chuckled. “Perhaps a bit too flamboyant and even over-indulgent. But I hope that it still brings you just a bit of cheer to this day.”

Zuko had to concede, “I must say, Uncle, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Grateful though he was for his uncle’s efforts to make it special, he still could feel the weight of this particular day pressing down on him. His birthday, ever since eleven years ago, had always been a day of pain and loss, even amidst all the pomp and spectacle. In fact, the whole grand affair only just added to the unbearableness of it all.

Really, what Zuko really wanted most of all was a nap. Since his presence was announced upon entering the ballroom, he had made no effort to deplete his already low social battery but was still constantly sought out. He was the Fire Lord; it was to be expected. He was what no one wanted to miss. He acted pleased with every guest coming forward to present their gifts, not fooled by their supposed generosity. To the nobles, giving birthday presents to the Fire Lord were more of a political statement and a competition to outdo each other. Indeed, some would bankrupt themselves out of the vain attempt to impress him. Glumly, he stared at the huge pile of presents, some even sent from the other nations’ leaders which arrived just yesterday.

That’s what all of this was, of course. Just a hollow show of revelry for their ambitious schemes. Not out of true appreciation for him as an individual.

‘You were lucky to be born.’ The insult he was all too familiar with echoed in Zuko’s head.

Discerning his nephew’s hidden misery, Iroh held Zuko in front of him by the shoulders. “Let me take a good look at you, my boy.”

Attired in deep crimson and gold robes with an embroidered dragon motif across the back, Zuko looked every bit the Fire Lord. Instead of his crown, he had put on a ceremonial mianguan from which ropes of milky white pearls dangled. Iroh felt his eyes misting over at how much the young man before him had grown. Though five years had not physically changed Zuko much, the way he stood confidently, his once angry eyes now full of compassion and wisdom, filled Iroh with overwhelming pride. He could feel his own grey hair turning whiter.

“Think I’ll do?” Zuko joked.

“Very well, nephew. A handsome man, indeed.” Iroh then turned a cheeky grin at Mai, who had been standing quietly beside them dressed in an exquisite junihitoe. “And what do you think, my dear?”

Her eyes half-lidded, Mai gave a slight smile of her own. “Well enough, I suppose.”

Zuko pretended to give a pained look, before taking her hands in his with a beam. “You’re the truly beautiful one in this room.”

Mai rolled her eyes at his flirting, but even she couldn’t prevent the heat rising to her cheeks. “Sokka is rubbing off on you too much.”

A deep laugh rumbled from Zuko’s throat, his eyes moving down from Mai’s content expression to the precious sign of the life growing within her. Even the multiple layers of red and black silk could not hide the visible bump of her large belly.

Mai said, “I can tell that our child will be quite the dancer someday.” She took her husband’s palm laying it on her tummy so he could feel the kicks of excitement. “The baby is never still whenever we host these kind of events—it must have your energy, Zuko.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Neither Mai nor Iroh got a chance to rebut his uncertainty as all three of them were then accosted by multiple guests hoping to curry favour. Forced to put on a practiced smile and greet them in turn, Zuko wasn’t deaf to the insincerity in their praises. A simple thank you for their well wishes was enough, and then it was unnecessary to speak more but let them rattle off with their idle chitchat. To keep from hating the obligation of this public gathering, Zuko let his wife and uncle do most of the small talk, effectively tuning it all out. Bored out of his mind and wanting nothing more than to retreat to the sanctuary of his chambers, his eyes vacantly wandered about the ballroom. His focus was drawn at once to a figure in blue once he spotted her amidst the other vibrant colours.

Transfixed by the flurry of her intricate and mesmerizing movements, Zuko couldn’t tear his eyes away from Katara as she danced with Aang. She looked radiant in her hanfu, the silk garment dyed in a gradient of deep ocean blue to pale icy white and embroidered with water lilies and delicate waves. Wrapped around her waist was a sash ornamented with tassels and from which a pearly jade waist pendant dangled. Her hair was styled in an elegant fei xian ji updo and adorned with silver combs. She wasn’t merely pretty or beautiful; she was as ethereal as the moon itself.

Already, she and Aang had danced twice, drawing much admiration and whispered gossip from the onlookers. Keeping in beat with the lively rhythms, the couple felt as if they were fourteen and twelve again. Not in a grand hall full of garishly dressed aristocrats but in a candlelit cave surrounded by cheering students. All of their troubles in the past five years forgotten.

“We haven’t danced in a while. I’ve forgotten how fun it is,” Aang said. “I…I’ve missed this.”

Katara wanted to point out that the only reason why they hadn’t done so was because he was always too busy doing “Avatar stuff”. It was either that or because of the number of fangirls he had wanting a turn at dancing with him that he never made time for her. But she refrained from doing so and only gave Aang a gentle smile. It wouldn’t do to potentially start another fight with him, especially one so public and during Zuko’s birthday celebration on top of that.

“Would you care to partner with me for the next dance too?” Aang asked.

Katara hesitated. “Maybe another time,” she said, her tone polite but firm. “It wouldn’t be right for you to dance with only me, especially since there are others probably eager for a chance to dance with the Avatar.”

To make a point, she subtly gestured with her chin to a group of tittering young ladies ogling at Aang. Normally, the sight would make her go green as a cabbage but instead of seeing them as competition, she viewed them as the perfect excuse. Aang’s cheeks went cherry-red, but he duly bowed to her before stepping over to become acquainted with this new group of admirers.

Now free, Katara could feel the weight of the room’s attention. She was already familiar with the Fire Nation culture to know that a third dance between an unmarried couple was considered highly inappropriate unless they were engaged or married. She had no desire to throw more fuel on the fire; she had enough scandal and gossip about her already. It left her uneasy, prompting questions she wasn’t ready to answer concerning the future of her relationship with Aang.

Watching him escort one of the noble girls to the dance floor, like a magnet being drawn, Katara’s gaze drifted to Zuko. She only caught a quick glimpse of him slipping away outside to one of the adjoining inner courtyards. It was the elusiveness of his retreat that made her follow him. He had moved to the side, leaning against a pillar and hiding himself from view of the ballroom.

“The Fire Lord sneaking out of his own party?” Katara chortled.

Her voice made Zuko open his eyes to glance at her. It was the exhausted look in them that caught her off guard. Not just a physical tiredness but…an emotional and mental one as well. Had socializing with all the guests burned him out that much?

Approaching cautiously, Katara asked, “Zuko, is everything okay?”

He offered a strained smile. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I will be—eventually.” Even though the moon was covered by clouds, Katara could still the frown on his shadowed face.

“The socializing is overwhelming?” she guessed.

Zuko blew a loose strand of hair from his face. “Yeah, you could say that again. I just…needed a breather.”

“I see. If you needed time for yourself…s-should I go?”

“N-No! No…stay. Please.”

A tinge came to both of their cheeks as they awkwardly smiled at each other before looking up at the sound of crackles. Fireworks were beginning to blaze up the night sky in a series of colourful explosions.

“I’d never seen fireworks before leaving the South Pole for the first time with Sokka and Aang,” Katara whispered. “Until I did, I wouldn’t have imagined fire to be so…beautiful.”

Zuko said nothing in response, too lost in his musings. The fireworks seemed to pale in comparison when he was more interested in Katara’s changing expressions. The bursts of colours reflected off of the waterbender’s blue eyes making them appear iridescent, her lips parted slightly in awe. Realizing she wasn’t imagining Zuko staring at her, Katara glanced over making the Fire Lord avert his eyes back to the fireworks. His pretence at being subtle was poor.

“Zuko? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. It’s nothing. A bug just landed on you—but it’s gone now.”

The Fire Lord swallowed hard, feeling his chest constrict. He waited a couple of minutes before daring to sneak a look back at Katara. He felt like he wanted to dig himself into a hole like a badgermole when he saw that this time Katara was staring intensely at him with a very visible smirk of amusement.

“You’re a terrible liar, Zuko. I wonder at how you’ve survived in politics for this long.”

Her teasing made a slight vein pop on his forehead. Even five years later, she could still drive him up a wall with one irritating comment.

“Hmph.” His blush darkening, Zuko mumbled after a brief pause, “I was just thinking…you look nice tonight.”

“You don’t look bad yourself,” Katara returned the compliment, trying to ignore the sensation of butterflies in her stomach.

Then, to ease her nerves, she joked, “You should wear headdresses more often.” She playfully swatted the pearls dangling from his mianguan.

“It’s heavy, this thing. Gives me a headache.”

With a giggle, Katara reached into a small hidden pouch in her hanfu before handing him something small wrapped in blue silk. “I almost forgot. This is for you. I meant to give this earlier, but seeing as how you were a bit preoccupied…”

“What’s this?” Zuko asked, puzzled.

“Just open it.”

Zuko unwrapped it to reveal a delicate fire lily waist pendant he could tie to his belt, carved from wood and painted with stunning detail. “D-Did you make this yourself?”

“It’s not my best handiwork. Carving was never one of my strong suits,” Katara admitted. “But I remember you told me that fire lilies were your mother’s favourite flower. So, I thought maybe it would a good reminder of her you could keep close—something that you cherish because of her.”

Zuko’s throat tightened as he looked at the flower. Many nobles often wore such waist pendants on their sashes, but normally made from precious stones and metals. They’d sniff at the idea of wearing something of such little value. But to Zuko, the one Katara made was perfect, its sentimental worth far higher. He could imagine his own mother wearing something like this as well; she had been a simplistic person. Most importantly, unlike the majority of the birthday presents he had received, this one was meaningful and had no ties attached to it. A simple gift of appreciation and friendship.

“Thank you, Katara,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “This…this means a lot.”

Rather than placing her gift back in its pouch, he removed the gold waist pendant already tied around his silk sash, replacing it with his new accessory. A random giddiness of pride overcame Katara which she fought to keep down.

“Happy birthday, Zuko,” she said.

“Thanks…” After a moment of silence, Zuko then admitted, “I’ve never really liked my birthday. It’s…the day my mother left.”

The admission hit Katara harder than she expected. She never imagined something like this—to be reminded of a loss of a mother on one’s own birthday. All these years, Zuko had to relive the pain of it when he should’ve been happy of the blessing of his life. Katara placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“I’m so sorry, Zuko. I-I didn’t know.”

He shook his head. “It’s not something I talk about much.”

But then he smiled, his fingers reverently caressing his new waist pendant. “But now, it feels like I have a piece of her with me.”

A warm curious feeling kindled within them as, like kitten moths drawn to a flame, they pulled each other into an all-too-familiar embrace. Although they had shared many hugs before, for the first time, they stood there for a long while with their eyes closed. Their arms locked together, neither of them wanted to be the first to break apart, simply basking in the comforting feeling of each other’s presence and the strains of the music… They were completely oblivious to the pair of grey eyes trained on them from inside the ballroom.

Hidden by one of the ballroom’s enormous curtains, Aang watched Katara and Zuko, their robes’ long flowing fabrics blowing around them in the breeze like two regal dragons. The nails of his hands dug into his clenched palms. He had intended to watch the fireworks, but spotting Katara and Zuko was enough to make him stop in his tracks. He should’ve just walked away. Or approached them and made his presence known. But his feet refused to cooperate. And even though it was just a hug…

“Whatcha standing about for, Twinkletoes?”

Somehow Aang was able to find the strength to tear his eyes away to see Toph right beside him, a stemmed glass of wine in one hand on the border of being fully drained. The earthbender let out a loud belch, leaning against Aang who wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol on her breath.

“How many of those did you drink already, Toph?” he asked.

“Not enough, in my opinion. Now, come on. Quit standing like a statue and let’s hit the dance floor, shall we?”

“But you hate dan—”

But Toph left him no other option, simply yanking him by the ear from the scene in the inner courtyard which she could detect with her seismic sense. One heavy step at a time, Aang let himself be led away by his friend, but not before looking back several times.

“You look very pretty, my dear. That kimono suits you well,” Iroh complimented to a beaming Izumi.

“Thank you, General Iroh!”

“Oh, no need for formalities. You must call me ‘Uncle’. Would you and Miss. Ty Lee care to try some of my tea blends?”

“Ooh! I’ll have some of your boba—the brown sugar one,” Ty Lee said.

Izumi raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Boba?”

“One of my own creations,” Iroh proclaimed, handing Izumi a cup of the strange drink. “Best drunk with milk and tapioca pearls, in my opinion.” He then lamented with a heavy sigh, “Unfortunately, my nephew and the Avatar found it too…chewy for their tastes.”

Izumi’s eyes lit up after her first sip. “Well, I think it’s delicious!”

Her eyes swept over the banquet tables, her appetite coming with a vengeance. Never had she seen so much food arranged in such bewildering displays. Her stomach could remember the hollow days when she and the Kyoshi villagers didn’t get to eat quite as much as they wanted, out of the necessity of saving rations. The prospect of the ball had been exciting, but in the presence of so much food, the music and dancing were now the last things on her mind.

For the next half hour, Izumi kept herself busy, doing justice to each dish. Each table presented new temptations and flavours she never imagined before.

Just when she reached for a bowl of what looked to be some sort of stew with dried fruit, she heard Ty Lee’s frantic voice saying, “You might want to think twice before having that one. The first and only time I tried that I was in the bathroom for thirty minutes.”

“What is it?”

“Water Tribe sea prune stew,” Iroh said. “I’ve heard that it is an…acquired taste.”

Izumi thought for a moment, staring at the bowl. Appearance-wise, it wasn’t very remarkable compared to the other soups and stews. Probably explained why almost everyone was avoiding it. But the smell was wonderful and rather…familiar?

“I’ll just ladle myself a small spoonful then. I can get more if I end up liking it.” She brought the spoon to her mouth, just delicately dipping her tongue to taste it.

The flavour hit her like a lightning strike.

Suddenly, Izumi was no longer standing in the ballroom but in a small chamber made completely of frosted glass reminiscent of ice. Across from her sat Zuko and Katara, only not the Zuko and Katara she knew personally. No…this was the Fire Lord and Fire Lady.

Chuckling warmly, Zuko pushed away a half-eaten bowl of stew and smiled at Katara, as if he wanted to gaze upon her forever. “I’ll never get used to sea prunes.”

Her face equally glowing, Katara turned to a little girl at her side who Izumi hadn’t noticed right away. She was the spitting image of Katara with her blue eyes, tanned brown skin, and dark hazel hair.

“Kya, would you like second helpings?” Katara asked.

The child laughed, banging her small fists on the table. “Me wanna lick bowl!”

Zuko got up, grabbing a plate of seaweed crackers. “I’ll take these to Azu-chan,” he said. “She loves them.” He bent down to kiss Katara on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Izumi? Izumi? Izumi!”

“H-Huh?”

A familiar voice drawing her back to reality, the scene faded before Izumi’s eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to get a hold of herself as the sounds of the ball filled her ears once more. What just happened? Had she somehow jumped through time again? If so, how had her presence in that icy chamber not been noticed?

“My dear, are you alright?” Iroh’s concerned face popped in front of her.

“W-What’s going on?” Izumi asked.

She looked about to see that she was on the floor, slightly held in the arms of Ty Lee. The bowl that was in her hands now lay smashed in pieces beside her. A few faces all around were looking curiously down at her, their expressions ranging from concerned to disapproving.

“Your aura went all grey and black, and then you fainted,” Ty Lee explained. “Are you okay?”

Izumi found the strength to weakly nod in her disorientation. Her vision still was fuzzy, the vibrant hum of the ballroom slightly distant, and a dull ache beginning to build at her temples.

“I…I think I saw something,” she murmured, her voice trailing off as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “I think I had…some sort of vision.”

“A vision?” Ty Lee repeated.

But Izumi didn’t get to answer because another wave of nausea rolled over her. She groaned, feeling like a ton of dirt just got earthbended on top of her. Concern etched all over their features, Ty Lee and Iroh helped her to her feet.

“Come on, child, let’s get you to bed. I’ll brew a calming tea for you,” Iroh said.

With Ty Lee and Iroh’s support, Izumi was guided out of the ballroom, her steps unsteady. From across the ballroom, Katara, who had just been returning from the inner courtyard in need of refreshment, frowned in concern.

Katara was about to follow them to see if her assistance was required, but before she could do so, a hand reached out to her. She turned to find Tatsunori, bowing slightly with an outstretched palm. He was swathed in a ridiculous number of garish robes and jewels. The least of the latter would’ve been able to pay for more than a year’s worth of food for a hungry household. He was such a mass of frills, pleats, and tassels that Katara couldn’t help thinking of him as more of a walking bejewelled cushion than a magnificent lord as he wished to emulate.

Looking at his hand as if it was the stinger of a wolf scorpion, Katara greeted him in as cordial a voice she could muster, “Treasurer Tatsunori.”

“Princess Katara,” he said, “may I have the honour of the next dance?”

The way his lips were pulled back like a prickle snake’s made Katara want to ice it off. Tatsunori was never a person she liked or trusted, and she knew the feeling was mutual for him. He made no secret of it during council meetings by frequently opposing her ideas and proposals. Also, the idea of his hard knuckled hands, large enough to strangle, touching her wasn’t the most appealing thought. But to decline the Royal Treasurer’s offer without reason would most certainly cause offence and risk unnecessary attention.  

Reluctantly, she placed her palm in his. “Of course.”

She remembered when she first arrived in the Fire Nation as Zuko’s guest, Tatsunori had been unwilling to shake her hand. Never would he initiate any physical contact with a “Water Tribe savage”. Though he didn’t actually say it, Katara could read it in his eyes. Not that she had wanted to shake his hand in the first place either. She always imagined it to be slimy with sweat or have a pincer-like grasp. Instead, she found it to be none of the above. Rather, the grip he had on her hand and waist was so gentle as to make her almost recoil. 

As they began to dance, Tatsunori’s polite veneer had a more noticeable edge than it already did. “I’m trusting you had a pleasant conversation with the Fire Lord outside just now?”

Of course, he had seen them. There were so many people preoccupied with the feasting and dancing, but clearly Tatsunori wasn’t one of them. If he had witnessed her following Zuko outside, Katara wondered how many others had as well. But she hadn’t been doing anything wrong. She had only followed out of concern for a friend. But judging by the tone of his voice, that wasn’t how Tatsunori viewed it. And rightfully so, what with all the recent talk going on.

“It was pleasant enough,” was Katara’s vague response.

“Not too overly though, I hope. It wouldn’t do to upset the order of things.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are part of a group that speaks so passionately about equality and harmony, yet I imagine you know better than to believe such ideals will ever take root. You do not fool me, Princess Katara. I see straight through you.”

Katara narrowed her eyes but kept her expression neutral. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

The Royal Treasurer smirked. “It’s all very well to spout off about the plight of the downtrodden, but society has an order. To disrupt it is to invite chaos. As the Minister of Social Affairs, you must be aware of this. The balance must be maintained, no matter what your kind may say.”

“My kind?” Katara’s tone was cold now, her grip tightening slightly.

“Upstarts,” he said, the word dripping with disdain. “People like you and your allies. The truth is that you are no different from the rest of us. Merely hiding behind your missions to ‘create a better world’—no, you are simply using them as a means to an end.”

“And just what are you implying that to be?”

“I’ve heard of your dissatisfaction being ‘the Avatar’s girl’ and the ambition you’ve kept suppressed for so long. How satisfactory it must be to finally have something great attributed to your name here. To wield authority and influence of your own. To be beloved by the commonfolk and praised for it. You may claim that it is all for protecting and liberating the people and their wellbeing. No, Princess Katara, what you truly want is power. You are merely another player in this game.”

“How dare you!” Not bothering to keep up with the pretence of civility, Katara yanked herself out of Tatsunori’s grasp, wishing she could lash a whip of wine at him.

But Tatsunori wasn’t finished. “It must be quite satisfying to know you have a possible future as Fire Lady, even if it’s undeserved. And as evidenced by your sneaking off with Fire Lord Zuko, it is clear you are not wasting a moment to securely wrap him your finger. I can’t imagine what a humiliation and grievance this already is for Fire Lady Mai, what with everything that little girl babbled about a few days ago.”

“You—”

“One thing I had been wondering about in particular…this Bloodbending Queen she mentioned, and that you and Fire Lord Zuko are supposedly the leaders against her. Yet, it is rather odd that she’d also mention you disappearing near the start of this war she claims will come.”

Her blood going cold, Katara said, “How do you know th—you’ve been spying on us?!”

Ignoring the accusation, Tatsunori said, “Do heed an elder gentleman, my dear. Titles—even that of a Fire Lady or a Queen—can’t erase origins, no matter what position you may marry into or vie for.” Then, spitting out her full form of address to make a point, he warned, “Bear that in mind, Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.”

Katara seriously was about to fling that whip of wine. But before she could do so or even retort, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Tatsunori!”

His eyes blazing, Zuko said, “You will speak to my guests with respect, especially those who are members of my court and council, or you will leave.”

Aang was quick to stand by his side and Katara’s. “And I remind you, sir, that the one you show discourtesy to is my girlfriend.”

Sensing the eyes of everyone upon him, Tatsunori stepped back with a mock bow. “Of course, Your Majesty, Avatar Aang. My apologies if I have offended.” He retreated into the crowd, leaving Katara fuming. Naturally, he wouldn’t apologize to her as well!

“Let’s get you away from here,” Aang said, leading Katara away to a quieter corner. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Honestly, I’ve heard worse things from him during council meetings.”

This did little to reassure him. Amidst the concern for his girlfriend, there was a lingering anxiety of a far different kind in his head. Though Aang only overheard the last part of Tatsunori’s insults, the particulars of them were enough to stand out sharply in his mind.

The prophecy of the Bloodbending Queen seemed to loom larger, what with Tatsunori’s remarks. And the implications of the Royal Treasurer stirred up fears Aang didn’t even want to consider. Much as he didn’t want to think about the worst, doubt was a seed that once planted grew quickly. He thought over Izumi’s account.

Fire Lady Katara retreating into isolation and never being seen again.

Fire Lord Zuko being the only person who ever met the Bloodbending Queen face-to-face.

Could it be a coincidence?

Could Katara be connected in a way none of them dared surmise? Aang tried to dismiss the idea—it was impossible. Katara was kind, loyal, and selfless. She would never…

“I need some fresh air,” Aang said.

Going out to the inner courtyard, even the feel of the wind, normally so soothing and freeing, could not blow away the thoughts clinging to his mind. It was wrong of him to think the worst of his girlfriend, especially since they didn’t have any evidence yet. He should be supporting her, not doubting her. Aang scowled at how easily he let that vile Royal Treasurer get to him. Probably that was exactly what Tatsunori intended for any within hearing range of his tirade.

Toph’s voice alerted Aang of her approach. “What’s up, Twinkletoes? You’ve been such a brooding bore for the majority of the night.”

“I’m fine,” Aang said quickly, but the shift in his heartbeat told Toph otherwise.

She jabbed him in the shoulder, making the airbender wince. “Don’t lie to me. Spill it.”

“It’s what Treasurer Tatsunori said to Katara…it just got to me.”

“Of course it did,” Toph said, picking at something in her teeth. “That guy’s an idiot, and his voice is like nails on a chalkboard. But you’re not telling me everything.”

Aang hesitated, then said carefully, “It’s just…what if he’s right? Not about all those insults he said to Katara,” he added quickly, “but what if…what if she’s tied to this Bloodbending Queen prophecy more than we realize?”

His suggestion was met with a sharp kick to the shin.

“OW!”

“Hope that knocked some sense into you,” Toph snorted. “I know what you’re insinuating and you’re just as much as an idiotic jerk as that Tatsunori dude to think so. Sugar Queen’s the kindest person we know. Groundhog said that she literally is one of the leaders against the Bloodbending Queen and everything she stands for! Stop letting some pompous bastard get into your head.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“I’ll leave you to think about it,” Toph huffed, before walking away.

Despite the new bruise blooming below his knee, Aang smiled weakly. He could always count on Toph to never stand for bullshit of any kind and set him straight. But the doubt remained buried deep.

The question still lingered: what would cause Katara to disappear in the future?

“You know,” Sokka whispered with a sly grin, “I think we earned a little alone time.”

Suki smirked, letting him lead her down a quiet corridor away from the noise. “You do realize that I’m technically still working, right?”

“Eh, there are plenty of guards and your fellow Kyoshi Warriors about. One missing won’t hurt.” Then waggling his eyebrows, he added, “Especially since she is with the most handsome man here.”

Rolling her eyes, Suki playfully jabbed him in the ribs. Sokka pretended to double over in exaggerated pain before pulling her into his arms.

“You’re ridiculous,” Suki said, trying to keep her laughter low.

“Ridiculous for you,” Sokka murmured, meeting her lips in a tender kiss.

Their moment was interrupted by faint voices echoing from the adjacent hallway. Suki frowned, pulling back slightly. “Do you hear that?”

Sokka nodded, his expression instantly sharpening. “Come on.” He carefully led them to the corner, peering around to see Michi and Tatsunori in conversation.

Michi’s voice was sharp but controlled. “What part of you thought it was a good idea to antagonize His Majesty, the Avatar, and the Southern Water Tribe Princess all at once? You’re playing with fire—literally, in some cases.”

Tatsunori crossed his arms, his expression haughty. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to speak my mind.”

“You’ve always had a talent for letting your mouth run ahead of your brain,” Michi retorted. Her tone shifted slightly, taking on a more cautionary edge. “Listen to me: do not show your hand so openly. You’re already fortunate His Majesty didn’t remove you from the Grand Council after the war—or punish you for your support of the former Fire Lord. Push your luck further, and you’ll regret it.”

Tatsunori’s sneer deepened. “Don’t feign concern for me, Michi. I’ve seen how far you’ll go to protect your own. I recall the satisfied smile you wore when your daughter’s would-be assassin was found…conveniently dead. How you personally caught the loyalists’ mastermind, charming him with your sweet words before ripping out his entire network. Ruthless and thorough—you don’t leave loose ends, do you?”

If he was hoping to provoke her, Michi’s expression didn’t waver. She stood impassively, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Smart enough to know, aren’t you?” Tatsunori pressed. “If this prophecy is true, Princess Katara would be the greatest enemy to your daughter—and her child. Do you think she’ll spare Fire Lady Mai?”

Michi’s response was cold and precise. “From what I’ve observed, Princess Katara does not perceive unborn babies as threats.”

Tatsunori’s frustration flared. “Then how do you explain Fire Lady Mai’s downfall from her royal position? It can’t be a coincidence.”

Michi tilted her head slightly, her voice calm and detached. “If this so-called prophecy is even to be believed—and that’s a generous if—I don’t waste my time trembling at the ramblings of children or superstition.”

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to an icy monotone that mirrored her daughter’s. “I have nothing to fear.”

Her eyes narrowed. “The real question is: can you say the same?”

Without waiting for a reply, Michi turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Tatsunori clenching his fists, his nostrils flaring in anger. He lingered for a moment before storming off in the opposite direction.

Sokka and Suki stayed frozen in the shadows, listening until the corridor fell silent again. Slowly, they turned to face each other, their earlier romantic moment now completely forgotten.

“He’s up to something,” Suki whispered.

“Yeah.” Sokka’s expression was grim. “And somehow I have a feeling this whole thing is no longer just court gossip. This might be way bigger than we thought.”

Chapter Text

A quote said by Her Royal Highness, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, found in Liu Bang’s “Book of Proverbs and Verses”:

“To bring down your enemies is easy. Bringing down those you love—the ones you’d die for—that is the real test.” (Princess Azula to her brother, Fire Lord Zuko, at the Caldera Conference in 130 AG)

Standing at the entrance doors, Zuko breathed a sigh of relief as the final palanquin disappeared from sight carrying away the last of his drunk guests. The rest, who were part of his royal court, were probably all knocked out in their quarters or other parts of the palace, nursing hangovers of their own. But finally, the whole ordeal was over. Servants were beginning to tidy up the ballroom and all the other various public chambers; ensuring all the fireplaces and candles were safely damped out; locking up every door and window. Yanking off his heavy miangguan, Zuko raised an eyebrow at the little farce happening next to him.

Lugging the disorientated mess of her boyfriend over her shoulder, Suki said, “Sweetie, I warned you against drinking too much!”

His head lolling to one side, Sokka hung limply in the Kyoshi Warrior’s embrace like a rag doll, a line of drool dangling from his mouth. Everything swooped in waves before his eyes and the flickering of the candles was over-powerfully bright and painful. His mouth would not stop salivating and every atom in his body seemed to tingle like little electric sparks.

“Suuuukiiii...srrrreeeep vith meeee...” Sokka drawled.

Her cheeks bright red, Suki said, “Come on, let’s get you back to your room. Toph, lend a hand, will you?”

The blind earthbender did not have to be told, taking the initiative by hoisting one of Sokka’s arms over her shoulders with an annoyed grunt. Together, they carried the drunk boy away, but not before he guffawed a slurred laugh and gave Zuko a big fat smooch on the lips. Of course, Toph had to sense it with that damn seismic sense of hers. Her ensuing cackle was as loud as a hyena leopard’s. His eyes literally bulging out of their sockets, the Fire Lord dashed over to the nearest crimson curtain and began rapidly wiping his mouth as hard as possible for at least five minutes afterwards.

Still feeling as though his lips got doused with snail slug slime, Zuko started heading back to his bedchamber. It was times like this when he found social events more tiring than a day of just doing paperwork. His feet on autopilot, a tugging sensation in his gut paused his mechanical unconsciousness. Looking up, he found himself standing in front of a familiar door engraved with the Water Tribe insignia. All thoughts of his bed evaded him as he hesitated, before knocking softly.

“Katara?”

No answer.

Zuko pinched his lips together before saying, “Katara, I know you’re in there. I can see the light underneath the door.”

Sitting on the floor of her bedchamber, Katara still gave no reply, only leaning against the door. Her knees were pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. She rested her chin on her knees, staring blankly at the far wall.

On the other side of the door, Zuko pressed his palm flat against its wooden surface and released a heavy sigh. “I’m guessing…that you’re probably still upset about what Tatsunori said. I am too. I should’ve handled it better.”

Katara still stayed silent. She wasn’t upset at Zuko at all. No, the only one to blame was Tatsunori. Usually, she’d just ignore his words. As she had told Aang, the spite Tatsunori showed at the ball wasn’t even half of what he’d sometimes direct at her. But this time, his accusatory words struck a chord. Not because they were meant to provoke her, but because they had a ring of truth to them. For although her motives to help others was purely out of the kindness of her heart, they also rose from another underlying source. She could not deny it now that Tatsunori pointed it out.

She loved the power.

If she was indeed no different from the power-hungry lion vultures of this world, who was she anymore? What if she was actually the very thing she despised? Just “another player in this game” as Tatsunori said?

“I’m sorry, Katara,” she heard Zuko say next. “You didn’t deserve any of that, especially from a prick like Tatsunori. He’s stuck in the past like most of the other old geezers, clinging to outdated beliefs. But that doesn’t excuse what he said to you. None of it was true.”

Closing her eyes, Katara hugged her legs closer.

Zuko leaned his forehead against the door, as if he could reach her by doing so. As if he were leaning against her shoulder instead.

“You’ve done more for this world than most people could even dream of. You’re a hero. A fighter. A healer. A leader. You’re…one of the strongest people I know and look up to. And if Tatsunori or anyone else for that matter can’t see it, then they’re all fools.”

His words hung in the air for a moment before he added in a voice so soft that Katara had to strain her ears to hear him, “But I know what he said cut deep. It’d be hard to not let such accusations have such a negative effect.”

Katara’s throat tightened as if a noose were wrapped around it. She wanted to say something in reply, but the emotional tempest inside her—a combination of anger, hurt, and doubt—made it too difficult to even think of the right words.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong,” Zuko continued. “To have people look at you and think you’re something you’re not. For years, I was either the banished prince or the Fire Lord trying to prove himself. But you…you’ve never had to prove yourself to me, Katara, and I’m sure many others feel the same.”

Her blue eyes opening, Katara could feel the sting of tears brimming at the corners but not falling. Somehow, it felt wrong to be hearing all this from Zuko. Especially after everything Tatsunori said. Yet, how was it that when she needed to hear them most, Zuko always knew the right words to say that others did not?

“I believe in you. Not because of what you’ve done, but because of who you are. No one, not even someone as stubborn as Tatsunori, can take that away from you.”

A moment passed in silence. Then another.

Finally, Zuko straightened up and stepped back from the door. “I’ll go if you want me to. But if you need to talk…or just someone to sit with…I’m here as always.”

Turning to leave, a faint sound from within Katara’s bedchamber stopped Zuko in his tracks—a soft, almost inaudible whisper.

“Thank you…”

Smiling faintly, Zuko nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see. “Anytime.”

“Ouch…”

Stirring from sleep, the morning light stung Izumi’s eyes when she first opened them. She nearly screamed when she saw a blurry face only a few inches from her own, staring back. However, her muscles relaxed when she realized it was only Ty Lee.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head! How are you feeling?”

Taking sips from the glass of water Ty Lee proffered, Izumi replied, “I think I’m okay now. My head doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Wanting to ensure the girl was well hydrated, Ty Lee poured Izumi another glass from the pitcher at her bedside. Though her Kyoshi Warrior makeup hid the dark circles under her eyes, it could not hide how bloodshot her eyes were. Izumi felt guilty knowing it was probably out of concern for her that Ty Lee lacked a good night’s sleep.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. That sea prune stew must’ve really disagreed with you, huh?”

“No, they were very delicious. In fact, they tasted…familiar.”

Ty Lee cocked her head to one side with a raised eyebrow. “They have sea prune stew on Kyoshi Island? I’ve been assigned there a few times, but I’ve never tried or even seen it. Did someone from the Water Tribes introduce you to it in your timeline?”

“No. We’ve never had anyone from the Water Tribes come after the island borders were closed. And I’ve never seen or tried sea prune stew until now. It…it doesn’t make sense.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ty Lee asked the question that’d been bugging her all night. “At the ball, you mumbled something about having a vision…of what exactly?”

“I can’t really make sense of it yet. I saw Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara. They were eating together as a family from what I could tell. There was a little girl too. Fire Lady Katara addressed her as…Kya, I think. I don’t know why I saw this vision or what it means, but I think it most definitely showed me a glimpse of the future.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” Ty Lee said, enfolding Izumi’s hands in her own. “Maybe it’s the universe or the spirits trying to tell you something important. But for now, how about we get some brekky? I always say that a full stomach can help make one feel better.”

Her spirits lifting, Izumi nodded enthusiastically. However, the clothes Ty Lee took out of the wardrobe were not the ones she had been wearing ever since she time-travelled here. Izumi looked over the red tunic and airy black pants, more weather-appropriate for the Fire Nation’s humid climate, with approval.

“Are those for me?”

“They just arrived a couple of hours ago. Zuko ordered for these and a bunch of other clothes to be purchased for you to wear during your time here,” Ty Lee answered. “He didn’t like the idea of you having to wear the same thing every single day, especially a garment too unsuitable for this hot weather.”

A warm feeling crowded out the prior uncertainty over her vision as Izumi got out bed. She was resolved to thank Zuko the first moment she got with him. Her pleasure only grew with a faint nostalgia as Ty Lee helped brush her ebony-black hair and fasten the buttons at the back of her new clothes. Though they were just small gestures, it felt just like every other morning when her aunt would assist her with getting ready in the morning. Much as she equally loved the Ty Lee of this timeline, Izumi wondered whether she’d ever go back to those days with the aunt she remembered.

When she and Ty Lee entered Zuko’s private dining room, they found everyone already gathered save for the Fire Lord himself and Katara. Their entrance wasn’t noticed right away as everyone’s attention was rapt on Toph and Sokka who seemed engaged in some sort of debate.

“We should settle this with a wager, then,” Izumi heard Toph say. “Loser has to pay the one who wins the most prizes at the festival tonight.”

“I’m not betting with you on that. You always cheat!” Sokka cried.

“There’s a festival tonight?” Izumi’s question finally alerted them all of her and Ty Lee approaching the table.

“Oh, hey, Izumi!” Aang greeted cheerfully with a wave. “You and Ty Lee left pretty abruptly last night with Iroh. Everything alright?”

Izumi took a seat in the chair he pulled out for her, letting out a giggle when Momo took the opportunity to perch on her head. “Much better. In fact, I think I had some kind of vision.”

Aang’s interest was piqued. “Oh yeah? What about?”

It was then that Izumi realized her mistake. Her hand, which had been reaching for her teacup, halted mid-air as she glanced around at the expectant faces. Yet, she hesitated. Knowing Katara and Aang were currently in a relationship, she didn’t think the latter would be pleased about the subject matter of her vision.

“I-I don’t really know…” was her vague answer. “I don’t think it was that important.”

“Maybe I can help you figure it out,” said Aang, not picking up on her reluctance. “As the Avatar, visions are something I deal with often.”

Suki gently added, “Or maybe it might be something that doesn’t make sense to you, but it might make sense to the rest of us.”

“Might as well tell us, Groundhog,” Toph chimed in, picking at her teeth.

Ty Lee faltered, “I don’t think…”

But Izumi gave in, recounting what she had seen the night before. But as she expected, once she mentioned Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara, Aang’s face darkened. Sokka, who had only been half-listening, more preoccupied with fighting Momo for the last peach, said something along the lines of not getting over the idea of his baby sister being married to “that jerkbender”. It was after he made this comment that Aang mumbled something about having to check on Appa, leaving the room with Momo flying after him.

Izumi cringed. If this was how Aang reacted, how would Katara and Zuko potentially respond if told?

Toph bluntly remarked, “Well, that was a pretty useless vision-thingy. Sparky and Sugar Queen simply eating a meal with some kid? About as informative as a history book that only has one sentence.”

Clearing her throat, Ty Lee took charge of steering the conversation. “I think this is a story we can discuss another time. And to answer your earlier question, Izumi, yes, there is a festival happening later today for the Summer Solstice. We’ll all be going, so you are welcome to join us.”

Izumi nodded before next asking, “Where are Zuko and Katara?”

“Katara is probably still in bed,” Suki said. “A staff member came in earlier informing us that she had requested for breakfast to be brought to her room. Zuko, on the other hand, is off for his weekly visit to his sister.”

Sokka made a face. “You mean his weekly waste of time trying to bond with that psycho.”

“Yeah, Sparky must be a glutton for punishment. Some people just don’t wanna change,” Toph snorted.

Ty Lee seemed to be the only optimist. “Azula’s aura has been so sombre lately—a really sad grey. But she and Zuko are family. I’m sure everything will be alright between them eventually.”

“Wait, Azula? Are we talking about the Princess Azula?” Izumi asked.

“What? Another one of your future besties?” Toph grunted. Then, with a devious smile, she joked, “Don’t tell me that she’s married to Snoozles or something,” making both Sokka and Suki spit out their tea.

“No,” Izumi said with a mysterious smile. “But I think Ty Lee is right. Everything should be fine between Zuko and his sister.”

‘If Sparky doesn’t lose a few digits first,’ Toph privately thought.

The more Zuko progressed down Azula’s wing of the palace, the more the hallways and rooms exuded an abandoned atmosphere. They had been sumptuous and well-appointed before the Fire Nation princess’s downfall, but now they were mostly stripped bare. Specifically of highly breakable and expensive objects. Despite the damage of her mind being healed by the Spirit Oasis water, that didn’t mean Azula ceased her habit of causing damage to other things. After a year of paying bill after bill, Zuko eventually just stopped replacing all the mirrors and vases. The walls still had scratch marks, and the carpets were torn and frayed—both caused by fingernails as sharp as a raven eagle’s talons. A stray empty fire whiskey bottle, alongside a pool of vomit, lay to the side.

Zuko wrinkled his nose before opening all of the hallway curtains to let in some light. He didn’t blame his staff for being afraid to regularly clean, no less even approach Azula’s quarters. But he was going to have to chat with them about at least making sure her living space was less like a deer pig’s sty. Not that Azula, who was normally half-drunk most of the time, even noticed or cared.

The light now streaming in did little to brighten the air of unease that always accompanied Zuko on his visits. The only thing predictable about interacting with Azula these days was her unpredictability. Yet, Zuko kept his resolve. He had vowed to make up for the years they had been apart, to rebuild something between them—even if it was only the thinnest thread of a connection. An unending guilt plagued him knowing that for the longest time Azula had no one but their father, who was responsible for leaving so many emotional and mental scars on her. Zuko always considered it partially his own fault for not trying to reach out to her.

After her mind had been healed five years ago, it had registered to Zuko that he didn’t really know Azula as a person. Aside from her love of firebending and her sadistic pleasures due to their father’s influence, he had barely even known her personal interests. Since they were young, Ozai had kept them apart not wanting his prodigy daughter interacting with a son he considered weak and useless. And further on from that, Zuko had avoided her presence—so drastically altered from that of the baby sister he used to play with on Ember Island—preferring the company of his mother, uncle, and Lu Ten. And after Azula started attending the Fire Nation Academy of Girls, they saw even less of each other.

Not anymore. Over the years, Zuko had been determined to slowly get to know Azula—spending the time together as siblings that they had been denied by their father in their childhood. Though their relationship was still fractured, Zuko held onto the hope that each visit—each conversation—would bring them closer to something resembling a bond.

Approaching Azula’s bedchamber door, Zuko found Jee dutifully standing at attention. “Morning, Jee. Is my sister awake?”

“Good morning, Your Majesty. I’m afraid Her Highness is still out like a light.”

“Let me guess. Had one too many again?”

Jee’s lips formed into a smirk that looked both amused and tired. “As usual, no matter how hard Yagoda and I try, the princess still manages to always find a bottle.”

Acknowledging Jee’s words with a nod, along with a roll of his eyes, Zuko entered the room. True to what the admiral said, Azula was still passed out in bed, her left arm and leg hanging over the edge. Her hair was a wild mess upon her pillow. A line of drool was suspended from her open mouth, from which came a series of snores that Zuko could imagine either Sokka or Toph emitting. Seeing Azula like this reminded Zuko of a memory so long ago on Ember Island of his little sister sleeping in after a long day of them playing in the sand together. The sight of Azula now, so different from the cold and calculating tactician she had been years ago, made Zuko feel like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

By Azula’s bedside, Yagoda was attentively sitting while reading a book. The Northern Water Tribe healer stood up at Zuko’s entrance, giving a polite bow.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted. “Apologies, but I couldn’t get Her Highness to wake up in time. She absolutely refuses to get out of bed, no matter what I do.”

“It’s alright, Yagoda. I have the morning off, so I can wait awhile.”

However, as the hours slowly drew closer to noon, Zuko realized this was one of those instances when no amount of waiting would have results. With a tired exhale, he shook her shoulder. “Azula, get up or you won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.”

Her eyes still closed, Azula let out a slight growl and unintelligible grumble before turning over, clearly ignoring him. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Zuko said a quick prayer to Agni as he always did before doing something as stupid as what he was about to do. Hoping he wouldn’t lose any afterwards, his fingers quickly tickled the bottom of Azula’s foot.

The reaction was as instantaneous as the lightning she used to shoot.

Zuko didn’t even have time to jump out of the way before Azula, with an armadillo bear’s roar, sprang from her sheets. Tackling him to the ground, her bloodshot eyes as mad as a rhino lion’s, she brandished the dagger she always slept with, holding it against her brother’s throat.

“WHAT THE FUCK, ZUKO?!”

“Good morning to you too,” the Fire Lord deadpanned before shoving her off.

Looking as if she were going to pounce upon him again, Azula was halted by Yagoda’s gentle hands on her arms. Whatever soothing words Yagoda must’ve whispered to her worked their charm because Azula sulkily stood down and allowed the healer to help her put a dressing gown on. She didn’t drop the murderous look she sent Zuko’s way, though.

“Before you decide to cut off my fingers or my entire hand, for that matter, I’ve brought you a peace offering,” Zuko said, setting down a canister of dried tea leaves. “Oolong, your favourite.”

“Ugh, couldn’t you have given something with a little more alcohol content in it?” Azula sniffed.

She rummaged through a drawer in her bedside table, taking out yet another fire whiskey bottle and yanking off the cap with her bare teeth. Pouring herself a glass, she then flopped onto the chair opposite Zuko. Liquor sloshed everywhere, making Yagoda purse her lips.

“Well, dear brother, what in Agni’s name drove you to bother me this time at this ungodly morning hour?”

“It’s noon, Azula. I hope you at least slept well?”

The Fire Nation princess raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, “Seriously?” before taking a swig of her drink and smacking it down on the nearby table. “I would have if Ty Lee hadn’t barged in late last night. As it turns out, she came asking about borrowing one of my old kimonos. Said it was for that little rugrat you’ve taken in.” She smirked faintly. “I already guessed that, considering how Ty Lee certainly wouldn’t have fit into that ugly thing.”

Yagoda, ever patient, seized the moment of distraction to swap Azula’s glass of fire whiskey with one of water. Azula didn’t seem to notice, but Zuko did, giving the healer a subtle nod of gratitude. Wanting to give the two siblings some privacy, Yagoda said something about going to get Azula some jook before leaving the room.

Zuko honestly didn’t know what he’d do if Yagoda never chose to help Azula. Though it hurt that Azula was sometimes unwilling to speak to him, he was thankful that at least Azula seemed to regard Yagoda as a tentative confidante. Even if it wasn’t him, he’d rather have his sister be able to talk with the elderly woman than with no one at all.

Azula reclined in her chair, her voice becoming irritated. “Now that we’re on the topic of our little ‘time-traveller’ or whatever you call her, tell me, Zuzu, what’s the end goal exactly? Why bother keeping that kid around? She’s not family, she’s not a citizen or person of importance, and she’s more trouble than she’s worth. She literally dropped out of thin air. Seems like another problem to me. For all we know, she might not even be who she claims to be.”

“She’s just a girl to came to help us. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, Zuzu, that soft heart of yours will ultimately be your downfall.” Azula rolled her eyes and took a sip of her “whiskey”, nearly spitting it out once she tasted its lack of alcohol. Then, tilting her head, a wry smile curved across her face. “Then again, it’s also what makes you so dangerous.”

Zuko frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Somehow, Azula could still baffle him by mysteriously retaining her faculties despite her typical indulgences.

Giving a look of feigned pity, Azula continued, her voice laced with mockery, “People always assume someone who has nothing left to lose poses as the greatest threat. That’s where they are mistaken. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in war, it’s that people will do the most insane things for those they care about. Love, Zuzu, is both a real unpredictable weakness and strength.” Her smirk widened. “Feel free to take any of this personally.”

Her words certainly gave food for thought. Zuko thought of his mother, who had poisoned Fire Lord Azulon to protect him. He thought of Fire Lord Nobukazu, whose heartbreak over a lost lover had sparked a war. He thought of Katara, who had once been bent on avenging her mother’s death. But that thought was quickly pushed aside; somehow it felt wrong to have his mind straying to Katara. Azula was right, though—love had a manipulative clutch on people that could make them act with reckless abandon, often blurring the lines of morality.

He exhaled slowly, shaking off the weight of her words. “You make it sound like caring about people is a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad,” Azula drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s stupid. But you do you, big brother.”

Zuko snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Alright.”

He hesitated before asking, “Anyway, the main reason why I came was because I wanted to ask whether you wanted to spar again tomorrow? My swords against your naginata.”

Azula’s eyes gleamed with interest as she leaned forward. “Fine, but only because I’ll never turn down another chance to prove that I’m better than you at everything.”

Zuko smirked faintly at the faint echo of the sibling rivalry they had known in their youth. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

Excerpt from “The Making of the Land of the Rising Sun: A History of the Fire Nation”:

The Water Lantern Festival, observed during the Summer Solstice, is a celebratory day held to honour the passing of one’s ancestors. It was brought about by the first Fire Lord, Taiso, after the unification of the Fire Nation islands. With strong religious and spiritual roots, Fire Lord Taiso supposedly, in a vision, met the ghosts of the fallen, instructing for the whole country to make offerings to their souls, lest a curse befall upon them all. Since then, the Water Lantern Festival has been a customary holiday of celebration.

Like its winter counterpart, the Summer Solstice is believed to be a time when the borders between the living and the dead can be easily crossed. As a result, one of the most widely practiced customs of the festival is to light water lanterns, from which the festival gets its namesake. They are believed to help guide the souls of the departed to the spirit world.

Skipping from stall to stall with Ty Lee, both holding sticks of candied jennamite imported from Omashu, Izumi lost herself in the vibrant energy all around her. While Zuko’s birthday ball last night had been astounding, what she was experiencing now was on a whole different level. She had noticed that while the nobles could let loose, the propriety expected of their social class still limited the extent of their merrymaking. “Fun” for the aristocracy meant formal court dances—a lost custom still foreign to them after a century of being banned—trying not to get too drunk (the less conventional nobles who’d choose to ignore this) and civilized social engagements like tea parties or going to the theatre.

Not for the commoners who ran hot and wild any chance they got to lay down their plows, weaving looms, or other miscellaneous tools of trade. And their raucous gaiety never erupted more than during great festivals.

Izumi couldn’t keep her eyes in a single place for more than a few seconds. Like long dragons soaring in the sky, lines of red lanterns were strung above every street between buildings. Street performers dazzled onlookers with feats of spinning plates on sticks, swallowing swords, or breathing out tongues of fire. Firecrackers popped sending their radiant sparks and shreds of red paper everywhere in tendrils of smoke. Lively tunes were played on every corner, their melodies weaving through the laughter and chatter of the crowd. There were food stalls, stands for games, and small booths boasting souvenirs and other trinkets. Every second, hands holding wares such as glittering jewellery or various crafts were shoved in their faces as vendors tried convincing, and in some cases, harassing them into purchasing their goods.

Politely refusing yet another merchant, Izumi and Ty Lee spotted Aang and Toph approaching with bags of fried fire flakes. Aang waved them over.

“Hey guys. Are you enjoying the festival so far?” he asked.

“It’s amazing. It’s so different from the festivals I’ve known on Kyoshi Island,” Izumi answered. “Well, at least, we don’t really have them on this grand of a scale since our village population is not that big. Normally, we just have a large feast over a roaring bonfire and trade stories with some traditional dancing.”

“Where’s everyone else, by the way?” Ty Lee asked.

“Sugar Queen went with Gramps to check out some new tea shop that just opened. Sparky’s being all Fire Lordy—shaking hands, kissing babies, or whatever the heck he does.” Toph shuddered before adding, “And Snoozles and Honey are spirits knows where. Off on their own, of course, straight from the beginning. Probably trying to find as many private places as possible just to snog each other.”

Izumi blinked in confusion. “Snog?”

Ty Lee giggled before leaning down to whisper in Izumi’s ear. The little girl’s cheeks went red with understanding.

“Oh.”

True to what Toph had surmised, Sokka and Suki had indeed wandered off to seek some alone time. Like several other people, they had gone to one of the lakes to cast off their own water lanterns. In the candlelight glowing off of it, Suki’s makeup made her facial features appear as delicate as the finest porcelain. Her eyelids closed and her hands clasped solemnly together, she was a picturesque sight of pure serenity. Sokka had been fixed so intently on his admiration that he hadn’t realized that she had finished her prayer.

“So, what did you wish for?”

“H-Huh? Oh, um…” Sokka scratched the back of his neck. “…luck.”

“Luck? For what?”

“Oh, something…” was the vague answer. “You’ll find out later. What about you? What did you pray for?”

Her white makeup hiding her blush, Suki said, “It’s cheesy.”

“The cheesier, the better.”

“…For us to grow old and grey together.”

This comment, of course, like many others similar to it, made Sokka start peppering kisses all over her face to the amusement and disgust of those around them. “Okay,” he whispered.

“You wish for that too?” Suki giggled.

“Always.” Then hearing the hoots, along with the calls for them to “get a room”, Sokka suggested, “Let’s get away from here, shall we?”

He grabbed her hand leading her to one of the few empty alleyways nearby. Having Suki in his arms, Sokka still could not fathom the question of since when did he get so lucky? A future of pain and anguish…that batty Aunt Wu couldn’t have been more wrong when she “read it all over his face”. Right now, Sokka felt more over the moon than ever. What suffering and misery could there be when his reason for his joy was here in his embrace?

Like the two silly young adults they were, they just could never waste any opportune moment given, unable to keep their hands and lips off of each other. Whereas people like Toph would gag at what they dubbed “mere puppy love”, Sokka and Suki were a devoted pair—needing each other like one needed oxygen. 

And spirits, how they yearned for each other every waking day! Despite both of them living in the Royal Palace, it was expected that, due to their respective duties and also the many eyes around, they didn’t get as much privacy as they would’ve preferred. Only in the late hours of the night could the two lovers sneak away to the privacy of their rooms and indulge in their love for each other. Amid their kisses and gentle touches were also seared memories of intense passion. Fervid moments where they would let their constraints of modesty go, giving into the fire of lust.

This present moment wasn’t any different as Sokka whispered terms of endearment to his lover, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. Spirits, he couldn’t get enough of this woman…she was his light, his water…without her, he was like a shrivelled plant.

Suki’s Kyoshi makeup was almost completely smeared off before their moment of stolen romance was cut short. She pressed a hand over Sokka’s mouth.

“Ssh. Someone’s coming.”

“Over here,” Sokka hissed, pulling his girlfriend behind a pile of crates.

They held their breaths as they carefully peered to look only to see Tatsunori slinking down the alleyway. At once, they knew something was up just by the way he furtively looked about and hugged the shadows.

“This guy again? Where the heck is he going?” Suki whispered once the Royal Treasurer disappeared down another narrow alley.

“No idea,” Sokka said. He removed his boomerang from his belt. “But we gotta follow him. He’s definitely up to no good.”

They trailed Tatsunori through a few more alleyways to what looked like a large, abandoned warehouse. From their vantage point behind a huge worn tarp covering part of the entrance, they could see just enough inside the building to spy upon the man. Judging by the two hooded figures Tatsunori approached, it was plain that he was meeting them for some sinister purpose.

“They are starting to get suspicious,” Sokka and Suki heard Tatsunori say.

“Haven’t been as inconspicuous as you thought, hm?” one of the anonymous figures said. “Do we need to…step in?”

“No!” the Royal Treasurer snapped at once.

“In that case, we shall be expecting the next payment as scheduled then.”

“W-Wait,” Tatsunori spluttered, “I need time. If I take more out now, then for sure someone’ll be onto me.”

“Well, we can always find another source in that case,” said the other hooded individual with a shrug. “You aren’t the only benefactor we have after all. And people can be…easily disposed of when their value proves of little worth.”

“Stop! I’ll do it. I’ll…I’ll…”

“Do what you must. If you are concerned about suspicion, then your own funds will do just as well.”

“Are you kidding?” Tatsunori cried. “I’m damned if I give you lot any of my own!”

“Surely, you can do without one useless vase or gold plate set? Think about what we have just said. If you are still hesitant, then consider the value of your own life. And if not that…then those of your wife and children.” Deaf to any other protests, the two hooded figures went on their way.

The question of how best to proceed lay before Suki and Sokka. Without a doubt, Tatsunori was being blackmailed. Why and by whom, they had to find out. And after their most recent Grand Council meeting, Sokka had an inkling that the unpaid payments for the Expo were connected to this. What to do now? Direct confrontation risked the criminals covering up their tracks and resulting in not catching them at all. To act without further knowledge or hard evidence would be the unwise choice. Sokka and Suki shared a look, as if reading the mind of the other and coming to the same conclusion.

“We should split up,” Sokka said. “You follow Tatsunori. See if he does anything else that seems suspicious. I’ll tail the other two.”

Suki already had her fans at the ready. “Okay. You be careful.”

“You too,” Sokka said, giving her a quick peck before they parted ways into the shadows.

“Tea can be like a wise friend, Master Katara,” Iroh said. “It soothes the spirit and gives clarity to the mind—but only when one actually drinks it.”

Although her spirits did not match those of the festival, Katara gave a small smile in his attempt to cheer her up. At first, she had debated not attending the celebrations at all, intent on instead doing paperwork and watching over Mai whose poor health had another nasty flare up. But it had taken protests from Ty Lee and pleading from Izumi to make her give in. But even after Zuko consoled her last night, Katara was aware her state of mind wasn’t collected enough to fully enjoy herself. So rather than putting a damper on everyone else’s moods, she chose the calming company of Iroh. The retired general had made it his mission for the night to go tea shop hopping around town. And as he didn’t demand conversation with her presence, Katara was perfectly happy to tag along.

Reaching for her cup, she was stopped by Iroh who said, “It’s probably gone cold by now. Allow me.” He wrapped his hands around it, warming up the liquid to the perfect temperature. “There you are.”

“Thanks.”

Her nerves settling a little after her first sip, Katara looked up to see Iroh watching her intently. “I can see that something has been troubling you all night, my dear. Do you want to talk about it?”

Of course, Iroh would pick up on her uneasiness. Things didn’t escape his notice easily. The empathy in his face made Katara realize that she did want to get it all off her chest. Since Iroh left the ballroom to help Ty Lee take care of Izumi, Katara had to relate what passed during his absence.

“I cannot think of anything farther from the truth than what Tatsunori said to you,” Iroh said. “It is normal to have occasional moments of doubt like what you are feeling now. But Master Katara, do not let the words of a small man dictate how you see yourself. Tatsunori clings to an outdated notion of the world, one where worth is measured by birthright rather than character. You have already proven that true greatness comes from the heart, and I know you have a good one that is in the right place.”

“I normally couldn’t care less about what people like Tatsunori think of me. But to have my actions viewed in that light…” Katara trailed off, her voice dropping, “…I wasn’t ignorant to what he was implying. That I’m someone who should be feared. Someone who in the future could possibly be…”

Though Katara didn’t say it out loud, Iroh knew what she was thinking. “I will say this, Master Katara…ambition is not a curse. It is the spark that drives us to grow, to protect, to build. It is only when we let our ambition blind us to others’ pain that it becomes dangerous.”

“But what if that very part of me—the one that wants control, the one that wants more—that’s who I really am? What if I already crossed the line unknowingly?”

“You would not be asking these questions if you had truly lost your way. The people who become monsters are often the ones who believe they are always right. But you still question, you still hurt. That means your heart is still your own. Your wish to be a strong independent woman and make a name for yourself is not a selfish desire. That is a human one. You are allowed to want a life of your own making. You are allowed to dream big.”

His words settling over her like a comforting blanket, Katara looked back at Iroh with misty eyes. “I can see how you were such a good influence on Zuko.”

Iroh chuckled. “He may add ‘occasionally irritating’ to that as well. But from what I’ve learned in the many years of my lifetime, it’s that wisdom is brewed slowly like the finest teas and helps when the need to offer words of consolation arises. Now,” he gestured to the bustling festival outside with a smile, “go and enjoy yourself. The night is still young.”

Katara laughed softly as he then turned to another customer nearby and began regaling how the altitude at which a tea plant grew drastically affected its flavour. With a lighter heart, she left the tea shop, the bright colours and lively sounds welcoming her back to the present. However, the reassurance and hope Iroh gave her felt as if they got dunked by a bucket of ice water when she bumped into Hahn.

“Ah, Katara. Fancy meeting you here,” he said.

“Hello, Hahn,” she stiffly replied.

Honestly, of all the intolerant people she had to encounter… Tatsunori or Hahn—Katara wasn’t sure who she disliked more. She already could barely tolerate Hahn’s arrogant misogynistic character, especially after learning about how he had treated Yue, one of the kindest and gentlest souls to have lived.

It was when Hahn had proposed, after hearing she and Aang were taking space from each other, that Katara lost what little smidge of respect she had for him. Of course, what pathetic speech he had given disgusted her before he even got to finish it. Words about how it only made sense they would be a perfect match. About how their marriage would unite the tribes (aka lose whatever chance the Southern Water Tribe had of gaining full independence from the North Pole).

There was no mention of affection. No mention of admiration for her abilities. Only her beauty. And to him, “the strongest and most handsome man of the North” (his very exact words), that seemed to be the only quality of hers that provided grounds as to why they should be married. All this, along with his absolute assurance in receiving a positive answer, had only repulsed her further.

His offer had been met with a swift refusal, followed by a duel in the palace courtyard that ended as quickly as it had started, after he angrily took offence at her rejection. Despite what poor disguise of civility he was putting on now, Katara knew he had never forgotten the public humiliation she had put him through.

“What are you doing here at the festival all alone?” Hahn asked.

“I was actually just on my way to find my friends,” Katara said, trying to keep a straight face.

Hahn made a show of looking about, before shrugging. “I don’t see them anywhere.” He gave a smug smile. “But I’m sure they can spare your company. What do you say to the two of us enjoying ourselves for the time being? I can buy you a pretty little bracelet or something.”

Thinking he could win her over just with some sparkly jewellery…honestly, the nerve of this guy! Was there no limit to his pompous conceit?

“I’m afraid I must decline, Hahn.”

The Northern Tribesman ceased trying to hide his sneer. “You think you’re so high and mighty—”

“Tch. Look who’s talking.”

“You—”

“I think the lady asked you to back off,” said a gruff and sort of familiar voice from behind.

Hahn turned to see a person towering over him, garbed in a deep crimson cloak of expensive silk and wearing an ornate dragon mask. Hahn demanded, “And just who in La’s name are you?”

The man shrugged. “Hardly matters. But we’re surrounded in case you haven’t noticed, sir. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene and possibly get the authorities involved now, would we?”

Looking very much like he wanted to knock the living daylights out of the stranger, what little sense Hahn had was enough to barely control himself. Looking daggers at Katara and the man one final time, he sulkily retreated.

His voice returning to normal, the man asked, “Are you okay, Katara?”

“W-What?” The waterbender paused, before seeing the familiar golden eyes behind the mask, and the carved wooden fire lily waist pendant tied to his belt. He was still wearing it. “Zuko?”

Though he did not remove his mask, she could sense he had a smile on his face. “The one and only.”

“What are you doing sneaking around in disguise?” Katara asked, crossing her arms with a small smirk. “Shouldn’t you be about meeting and greeting?”

“Hey, even Fire Lords need a breather. This is my way of…being just a regular citizen for a while, even if I have a tail.”

He looked over his shoulder, Katara following his gaze. A few Kyoshi Warriors and palace guards lingered at a distance, trying to blend in by looking at the stands like the average customer.

“A Fire Lord’s version of normal, huh? A little shadowing comes with territory, I guess.”

Zuko gave a mock groan. “Don’t remind me.” Noticing that they were blocking part of the crowd, he said, “Let’s not stand about in the middle of the street. Any place in particular you were wanting to check out?”

“Surprise me.”

“Hmm…have you ever tried Fire Nation mochi before?”

“No, what’s it like?”

“It has a chewy and sticky texture, and they can come in different flavours. My personal favourite is the red bean one.”

“Well, I’m open to trying new things.”

“I think I remember a stall further down selling some. Come on.”

What would’ve taken only a two-minute stroll on a normal day, however, stretched on for more than five what with the congestion. Her shoulders continually bumping against others, Katara struggled to keep up with Zuko who wove in and out as easily as thread going through a needle’s eye. Noticing her falling behind, he paused to let her catch up before offering his hand.

“Better not lose each other,” he joked.

It felt good to feel his fingers entwined with her own. Zuko’s grip was warm and firm in a reassuring way, as he led her through the crowd. Though his dragon mask hid his face, she could see the way his eyes lit up with love for the city he called home, as he pointed out certain things and explained them. As he tended to usually be more reserved save for his occasional bursts of anger at his councilmembers, Katara couldn’t help finding his enthusiasm kind of…cute.

She pulled herself up short. It was inappropriate of her to be thinking such things when she was already in a relationship. Especially thoughts that were about Zuko. Another man who happened to be the person she considered her closest friend. And yet—the realization disturbed her—she couldn’t find it in herself to deny it. Nor could she bring herself to feel awkward. On the contrary, it was too easy to feel happy and comfortable with him like this, like any other normal pair of friends enjoying themselves.

Their little trip to the mochi food cart was put on hold multiple times as they frequently stopped at other points of interest. Listening to a funky koto and shamisen duet. Catching snippets of a bunraku puppet performance. Purchasing other delectable street food to pair with their mochi later on. One firebending acrobat let out a spew of flames from his mouth, a large plume which unfortunately landed right on a stall selling cabbages making the merchant scream, “My cabbages!”

Reaching their intended destination, Zuko asked, “Any particular flavour you want to try? Papaya, perhaps?”

Katara scowled knowing he was pulling her leg. “Bleurgh. No, thank you. I’ll try one with the red bean filling that you mentioned earlier.”

As he paid for two of the round rice cakes, Zuko heard Katara say, “About last night…I thought about what you said. About not letting all the Tatsunoris of the world define my worth. I just wanted to say thank you for staying, even when I seemed to be ignoring you and didn’t answer. I was listening…and I needed to hear that.”

“I just told the truth,” Zuko said. He offered a mochi perfectly wrapped in a cherry blossom leaf. “Here. You should eat it while it’s still warm.”

“Mmm,” she said, right after taking a bite. “Good recommendation.”

“Glad you like it,” Zuko chuckled. “Azula is quite partial to these herself. When we were just toddlers, we used to sneak down to the kitchens to steal some. I think I’ll buy a couple more to take back to her.”

Katara’s keen observation noticed a flicker of something in his eyes and his tone of voice. Trouble? Regret?

“What’s wrong?”

Zuko hesitated before sighing, his voice quieter, “I visited my sister this morning. She’s…better than she was, but it doesn’t make it any less hard. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely scratching the surface of all the damage Ozai left on her. I try to be patient, but it’s often like I’m walking a tightrope.”

“Zuko, the fact that you’re at least trying is probably more than what most people have ever done for her. You’ve given her a chance to heal, to have people like Yagoda and Jee care for her when no one else would. That’s what makes you a good brother.”

“But what if it’s not enough? What if she never forgives me for effectively abandoning her years ago?”

“As you’ve helped show me, sometimes healing isn’t about forgiveness. It’s about finding closure in acknowledging the pain of the past and having someone there to remind you that you don’t have to do it by yourself. Even if she doesn’t say it, I’m sure Azula knows you’re there for her.”

The vibrant world around them a stark contrast to their serious conversation, they stood facing each other. It happened. Just as it had many other times between them. Those brief instances Aang was always secretly paranoid about. When their eyes would meet and, through that alone, all the emotions and understanding they felt were conveyed.

“Thank you, Katara. I guess we both needed to be reassured that…we’re doing the right thing.”

The waterbender smiled. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Katara!” A voice rose above the din.

To their left, Zuko and Katara could see Ty Lee’s head poking above the crowd as she tiptoed to see over everyone else. She reached up doing a wave, before pushing herself and Izumi over. The latter was juggling in her small arms more bags of treats than she could carry.

Stooping down to assist Izumi with her load, Katara heard Ty Lee ask, “Who’s your companion? His aura looks…familiar.”

Chuckling at Ty Lee’s quizzical eyebrow, Zuko said, “It’s just me, Ty Lee,” then addressing the girl beside her, “Are you having fun, Izumi?”

“Yeah! My favourite part was this cool parade in the Eastern Square where they had these large floats that let off sparklers.”

“She’s worn my feet with blisters with the amount of walking we did,” Ty Lee joked. “But hey, now that you guys are here, I think I’ll take a little break and hang out with my fellow girls over there.” She subtly gestured at Zuko’s security tail of Kyoshi Warriors. “You don’t mind spending time with Katara and Zuko for a bit, do you, Izumi?”

“Nope!” was the reply.

“Abandoning duty so soon?” Zuko asked.

“Hardly abandoning,” Ty Lee teased. “Besides, you’re the one who said all staff members should do rotations so that everyone can enjoy the festival at some point. And let’s not forget you’ll still have those guys lurking nearby.” She waved at the palace guards who awkwardly pretended not to notice.

“Very well, go enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks, Fire Lord Softie,” Ty Lee called back with a wink. She skipped over to her fellow Kyoshi Warriors and frogmarched them away into the crowd.

“So, where to next?” Izumi asked.

“Anywhere you want,” Katara warmly said.

Izumi looked about before her eyes landed on a white stuffed dragon amongst some other plushies at what appeared to be a game booth. It was very long stretching at least the length of four stalls. Participants were focused on knocking down small targets with their firebending at a range of several metres.

Her eyes twinkling as she tugged his sleeve, Izumi said, “Zuko, I want that toy dragon.”

“I’ll give it a shot then.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it, Fire Lord?” Katara teased.

Rolling his eyes, Zuko stepped forward and pressed a few coins into the booth owner’s hand. Taking a perfect stance, he let out a deep breath, smoke exhaling from the nostril holes of his mask, before firing. His form and execution flawless, the targets stood no chance against his first few blasts, save for one last stubborn target.

Katara leaned in with a mock serious expression. “Pressure’s on, Zuko.”

“No pressure at all.”

With calculated precision, the fireball hovering above his palm sent the last target skyrocketing into the air. It sailed like a comet before crashlanding somewhere in the distance making a familiar voice scream again, “My cabbages!”

“Show off,” Katara snorted.

Zuko returned the smirk as he received his prize from the rather flustered vendor. Kneeling down to eye-level with Izumi, he gave her the stuffed dragon. “For you.”

“Thank you, Zuko!”

“You going to give it a name?”

Squeezing her arms around her new toy, Izumi gently examined one of its white wings. “I think I’ll name her Yue. Auntie Ty Lee often told me bedtime stories of her saying she lived in a temple on the moon, weaving the very stars in the sky with her silver needle and thread.”

The mention of the former Northern Water Tribe princess made both Katara and Zuko feel as if they had sucked on a sour lemon. But it was replaced with something bittersweet. Katara could feel herself tearing up at the knowledge of Yue’s sacrifice being memorialized even many years far into the future.

For the next hour, the three of them continued going from stall to stall until Izumi asked, “Zuko, why is it called the Water Lantern Festival?”

“Here, I’ll show you.”

Following Zuko to one of the lakes, Izumi was met with the sight of several lanterns in various shapes floating on the water’s silvery surface. To the little girl, they looked like fireflies doing a dance.

“This is a day to pray for wisdom and blessings from one’s departed ancestors. To honour and remember our loved ones who have passed. The lanterns are also meant to guide wandering spirits back to their realm,” explained Zuko. “You can light a lantern and make a wish to them.”

In response to Izumi’s eager reaction to this, three were duly purchased and set afloat to join the many others. And though neither of them could explain it, they almost regarded the present moment as…nostalgic. As if mysteriously, they had done this before.

“So, what did you end up wishing for, Izumi?” Zuko asked.

“Zuko, don’t you know that if you tell a wish, it won’t come true?” Izumi replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“She’s right, of course,” Katara said, raising her hands in surrender.

She and Izumi shared a conspiratorial giggle, which Zuko couldn’t help but join in as well. “Fair enough.”

What neither of them knew was that they all had the same wish. A wish for a better world, a better future. A wish that their worst fears, which they kept well hidden under casual laughter, would never become a reality.  

For a while, they sat by the lake amid the many citizens who had brought picnics with them to admire the lanterns and the moonlit night. Like any other worn-out child sleepy with contentment, Izumi nodded off quickly, her body sidled up close to Katara and Zuko, resting her head on the latter’s chest. Clearly, the excitement of the day had run its course.

Keeping her voice low to not disturb the child between them, Katara asked, “Have you attended many Water Lantern Festivals when you were younger?”

“Only once. My father always hated that I was born the day before the festival. Not only because it is associated with water, but also the dead. Ozai always believed it was bad luck, and so had the festival banned the year after I first attended. But Mai and I decided to revive it after the war ended.”

“That’s not true, you know, about what your father thought.”

“I know. It’s okay, Katara. I made my peace with it.”

‘You shouldn’t have to in the first place. No child should have to accept the knowledge that their father despises them.’

Katara looked down at Izumi, who by now was practically laying on Zuko’s lap. The Fire Lord unconsciously had a protective palm upon her head. Looking at his natural posture and how safe and sound Izumi was with him, Katara’s belief of Zuko someday being a great father grew stronger. Something told her that out of their group of friends, he would be the best parent of them all. He knew exactly what a nurturing and wise father would be thanks to his uncle, and what to avoid due to Ozai.

Gazing upon the sweet scene next to her, Katara’s thoughts turned to Izumi’s parents. They were not part of her life evidently, since Izumi said that her only guardian had been Ty Lee. So, what happened to them? Had they abandoned her? Were they dead?

She thought about Ty Lee in the future, raising Izumi on her own. Which of Ty Lee’s numerous sisters had handed the child over to her? Was Izumi even Ty Lee’s biological niece?

The festival lights began to dim, and the sound of drums roused Izumi from sleep. “What’s going on?”

“The fireworks are about to begin. If you want, I know a better place up above to watch them away from the crowd.”

“Let’s go!” Izumi said.

With some careful maneuvering, they made it to a secluded hill lush with trees and other greenery. A large red torii gate greeted them at the foot of it. Climbing up a few quick turns through the winding paths, they managed to shake off the two guards tailing Zuko, laughing quietly at their escape. At the top was a solitary shrine framed by plum blossoms, the perfect vantage point to view the celebration.

Now out of sight from the public, Zuko took off his mask and exhaled deeply. “Whew, that thing is sweaty.”

“It does make me wonder how the Blue Spirit keeps one on for so long,” Katara mused.

Playing along, Zuko shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he finds it sweaty too. Or maybe he just has practice.”

Izumi looked back and forth between them, not understanding why they were both grinning. But her attention was quickly captured by the whizz of something shooting into the air followed by a bang. Explosions of fireworks burst in colourful cascades of light, like flowers opening their petals.

Izumi ran to the pavilion’s railing. “Woah…”

Zuko and Katara stood beside her, watching in companionable silence until Izumi pointed down to the square below. “What’s happening over there?”

From their perch, they could see some people moving in unison, their movements perfectly timed to the rhythmic beat of drums and flutes. From the multiple shades of blue they wore, Katara knew at once that they must be some Water Tribe people who had arrived early to help prep for the Expo. They must have been requested to do a performance of their own.

“They’re doing a traditional Water Tribe dance. It’s normally done on the Winter Solstice though. It’s a way to honour the spirits and the flow of the water.”

“Can you teach me?” Izumi asked.

“Alright, but just to let you know, I haven’t danced this since I was maybe your age. But it’s not too hard once you get the steps down.” Katara joined hands with Izumi and began demonstrating the basic motions. The swaying arm movements and gentle steps were reminiscent of the ebb and flow of the ocean on a calm moonlit night.

Izumi giggled as she tried to match Katara’s rhythm. “Am I doing it right?”

“A born natural. There are actually several other steps, but they might be trickier considering how we’re not the same height.”

Zuko, who’d been watching them quietly, stepped forward. “May I?”

Nothing could hide the surprise in Katara’s expression. “W-What?”

Her astonishment seemed to abash him, a hint of a blush starting to show on his cheeks. “I’ve been practicing dances from all four nations—just, you know, with the Expo approaching and all that.”

“You? Doing a Water Tribe dance?”

Her pleased grin made him gather his courage. “I’ll have you know I’m a quick learner.”

“Alright, show me what you’ve got so far.”

Confidently mimicking the movements Katara did with Izumi, Zuko’s steps were steady as his arms ran smoothly through the motions. Judging by Katara’s raised eyebrows, he knew that he had accomplished impressing her. But what probably surprised her the most was that his moments were distinctly Southern, not Northern.

“You weren’t lying. You’ve clearly been practicing,” she said at last, a touch of admiration in her voice.

“Like I said, quick learner,” he answered with a tiny smirk.

His enthusiasm and willingness to even learn an aspect of her culture made Katara’s heart soar. Aang had never wanted to learn Southern Water Tribe dances, thinking them too risqué. This belief of his was further grounded by the Northern Water Tribe agreeing the same. The fact that Aang would side with a misogynistic society, whose cultural dances for women were so stiff that they could practically be done in a small bathroom, had rubbed Katara off the wrong way.

Down below in the square, the musicians started striking up another tune, this one slower than those before. Just from listening to the first melodic and soothing notes, Zuko recognized it as a piece he once heard in Ba Sing Se, popular amongst the nobility.

They had already spent too much time hiding away here at the shrine. Zuko knew that they should probably start heading back. Surely someone would be looking for them, especially his guards who were most likely having a heart attack at having lost sight of their Fire Lord.

Yet, he found his hand reaching out of its own accord, his other arm going behind his back as he dipped a graceful bow. He tried to ignore the feeling that he was boldly crossing a line that must never be overstepped.

“Master Katara, may I have the honour of your hand for this dance?”

Staring first at his outstretched hand, Katara’s eyes found his and everything ceased to matter in that moment. Their sadness and anxiety. The celebrations happening all around Caldera City. Izumi standing just a couple of feet away, an expression of wondrous awe at what was happening right before her eyes. All of it seemed to blur together and fade into the distance miles away, as Katara placed her palm in his. In that moment, it was just the two of them and the music’s silvery strains.

Feeling his other hand going to the small of her back, Katara found herself close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. A welcome thing on this chilly night. Moving as one in fluid motions, their dance felt like one of their spars, each step executed perfectly and without hesitation. Like yin and yang, they were in complete balance, instinctively knowing each other’s moves.

Katara could feel her breathing becoming uneven, her heartrate quickening. But she couldn’t break her gaze from those golden eyes, staring just as intensely at her. She felt like a small boat being carried away by the tide as Zuko led her through each step, never faltering. But he didn’t force her into any move; she had equal control, both of them seamlessly matching the steps of the other.

There was something unspoken in the ease with which they fell into sync. Every physical and visual signal—a look or a subtle gesture—was communicated perfectly. It was as if they had been doing this dance all their lives.

Izumi clapped enthusiastically, breaking the moment, when they finished. “You were both amazing!”

Katara laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You certainly were very light on your feet, Fire Lord.”

Zuko chuckled in kind, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before looking back at the firework-filled sky. “Thanks, but you make it look easy.”

As the Fire Lord, he was required to dance with several ladies when such social occasions arose. Yet, he had never had a partner like Katara. Except for Mai whose talent for dancing was just as proficient, until her poor health rendered her unable to participate anymore. As soon as the thought entered his mind, Zuko banished it. Not only did Katara and Mai not go well together in his head, but it also wasn’t right of him to be comparing the two.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t be thinking any of this. He was a married man. He loved Mai.

But looking back into Katara’s eyes…blue as the sea…the power of them dragging him down into the waves’ bottomless depths…it struck him in the chest.

It was useless to keep refuting it.

He was still hopelessly, undeniably, irrevocably…

“By the way,” Izumi began, ignorant to the emotions bubbling upon the surface, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you both.”

“What is it, Izumi?” Katara asked.

“I-I think I had a vision.”

Glad for the reprieve from his dangerous thoughts, Zuko repeated, “A…vision?”

“Yes.” Then, remembering Aang’s reaction, Izumi hesitated. “But you might not like it.”

Katara and Zuko looked at each other. By some telepathic agreement that close friends would share just by reading each other’s faces, they exchanged a nod.

“You can tell us, Izumi. Better to be safe than sorry if it proves to be important.”

The little girl bit her bottom lip. “I saw Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara. There was a little girl with them. Kya, I think was her name.”

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on Zuko at hearing the name he never dared utter after learning Sokka and Katara’s tragic childhood. His head swivelled in the latter’s direction to see all the blood drained from her face. Like the dignified politician she was, she remained master over her composure.

“Excuse me,” she said with a slight bow of her head.

Walking back down the path, she gave away no sense of a hasty retreat. But not even resolve could control the quiver in her voice…

Though Mai had a book in her lap, her eyes could barely read the words on the page. Bored out of her mind, she eventually put her novel down and reclined back in her bed. Her mother and several other women had told her a variety of their personal pregnancy stories. Some had it quite easy, others not so much. After her multiple miscarriages and health scares, Mai could tell that she was part of the latter group. If she found this unbearable, then what must it be like for all the expecting mothers with worse conditions than hers?

Noticing her mistress’s head lolling back from nausea, one of Mai’s maids quickly poured her a glass of water. “Your Majesty, you must stay hydrated.”

Her face paler than normal, Mai had no fight in her to argue over her fussing. She only took a sip before her father stepped inside without so much as a knock. His imposing presence made the maids halt.

“All of you, leave us.” His order was so brusque that the maids didn’t dare disobey.

Left alone with his daughter, Ukano approached with measured steps. “You’re looking better than last week,” he said with a forced smile, though his voice lacked genuine warmth.

“Before you bother asking the same question, the baby is fine,” Mai said in her usual bored and slightly exasperated tone.

Ukano ignored her indifference, pulling up a chair beside her bed. “That is not what I came here to discuss about. We need to talk about your situation. About her.”

Mai’s blank face deepened into a glower. “If this is about Katara again—”

“It is,” Ukano interrupted. “And you would do well to listen.”

“Father, I will not repeat myself again. Stop wasting your energy getting all flustered over what may never come to pass.”

“You are not so certain about it either. Do not lie to me, Mai. You are my daughter, and I know you well enough. You are just as disturbed. I can tell,” Ukano said. “If you still don’t believe me, then maybe what I’m about to say next will make you think twice. Tonight at the Water Lantern Festival, I saw the Princess Katara with that little girl and some mysterious masked man sneaking off—up to the abandoned shrine near the great lake. Naturally, I sent one of our family spies after them. You know what he reported back to me? Her and your husband—together. Laughing. Dancing. And the way Fire Lord Zuko supposedly looked at her…”

It took a while for Ukano’s words to fully set in, but once they did, they had the effect of clenching around Mai’s heart and refusing to let go. The Fire Lady found her tongue frozen as Ukano watched her closely for the slightest reaction from his emotionless daughter.

Mai’s voice was tight when she snapped, “Zuko is too bound by honour. He would never betray me.”

“Oh, daughter…” Shaking his head, Ukano gave a humourless chuckle. “You’re a naïve fool if that is what you truly believe. You think your marriage makes you untouchable? Look at all the past Fire Lords who disposed of their wives to replace them with their favourite concubines! Oh, of course, a Fire Lord would never dare risk angering his consort’s family by publicly divorcing her. The reason always happens to be some fatal illness she somehow got, or her mysteriously disappearing, or evidence discovered of her or her relatives plotting treason. But that fools no one. Don’t you see, Mai, that as easily as he raised you up, Zuko can easily bring you down?”

“Zuko loves me,” Mai said through gritted teeth. “It’s you who is the naïve fool for thinking he’s like his forefathers.”

“Mai, the prophecy that child gave casts a long shadow. It’s not just superstition; it’s a warning. One you should start taking seriously.”

“You forget something, Father. If not me, Zuko would never harm my child.” Mai rested a hand instinctively on her protruding stomach.  

“Maybe not directly. But what about the Southern Water Tribe Princess? Do you think she would spare you if it meant protecting herself? And what about Zuko’s heart? You’ve seen how he’s changed since she came into the picture. You’re already isolated here—surrounded by his allies, his family, his advisors. And where are you? Alone.”

“That’s not true,” Mai said, but her voice wavered.

“Isn’t it?” Ukano leaned closer, his voice lowering to a chilling tone. “You know it in your heart, but you refuse to accept it because it’s easier to ignore the hard truth. But you must face it, daughter, and take heed. You have two choices: secure your place as the mother of the future Fire Lord—or risk being put out of the way.”

Mai’s face blanched. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you can’t trust anyone. Not your husband and especially not the Princess Katara. Not even the peace they all preach. Protect yourself. Protect your child. Before it’s too late.”

Without waiting for a response, he stood and strode out of the room, leaving Mai alone with his words echoing in her ears. She sat motionless, her hand trembling as it pressed against her abdomen. Her carefully maintained composure finally cracked as a single tear traced down her cheek. For the first time in years, fear gripped her—a fear she couldn’t ignore.

The sun still having not risen above the horizon, Tatsunori’s study was absent of its occupant. But while the Royal Treasurer was out of the room, that didn’t count for the four individuals secretly turning it upside down of all its official documents. Their expressions grim yet determined, Suki and Sokka flipped through several ledgers, the numerical contents inside making the latter’s head hurt. Iroh and Kenzo helped as well, roped in by the other two due to their White Lotus connections and the need for allies they could trust.

As the group pored over the evidence, Sokka let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. The more he tried to concentrate, the more the numbers in front of him began swimming like fish. This daunting task required far too much effort for an early morning when he could’ve been sleeping in. But when it came to things such as intrigue and corruption, he knew some things like the luxury of beauty sleep had to be put on hold.

“You know, last night, I thought I was onto something with whoever those hooded guys were,” he began. “But when I was tailing them, they turned a corner in the alley and when I followed…” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Poof. Gone.”

Kenzo raised an eyebrow. “Gone, you say? As in they just…vanished?”

“Yeah. It’s like they just disappeared into thin air. I checked everywhere—behind crates, over fences, even under a couple of tarps. Nothing.”

Frowning, Suki flipped through a thick accounting book, her finger tracing a line of sums. “Bingo. Take a look at this.” The other three crowded around as she said, “He’s been skimming funds from royal projects, inflating expenses on paper, and pocketing the difference.”

Sokka leaned over his girlfriend’s shoulder. “And these transfers—huge sums sent to accounts that are untraceable. It’s like he’s deliberately hiding where the money is going. Guess this explains about those unpaid payments people have been complaining about recently.”

More accustomed to examining documents of a similar kind, Kenzo adjusted his spectacles, experience helping him catch the mistakes right away. “Indeed. This isn’t just petty theft, I’m afraid. The amounts are staggering.”

“Tatsunori isn’t working alone. Those people he met last night are clear indications of that,” Suki said. “Someone is benefiting from this.”

Iroh, seated calmly at the end of the table, sipped his tea before speaking, “A thief with ambition is always dangerous. But a thief with allies and a hidden purpose? That is far more concerning.”

“And this doesn’t even get us closer to finding out who those two hooded guys were,” Sokka groaned, slamming the account book shut.

“But we know Tatsunori is involved in something deeper. From the evidence we’ve found here, he certainly isn’t laundering this kind of money just for himself,” Kenzo said. “The bigger question is what he’s funding. Armies? Mercenaries? Political favours? Whatever it is, it’s dangerous enough for him to risk stealing from the royal coffers.”

Iroh set his tea down with a soft clink, his calm demeanour giving way to a more serious expression. “This must be brought to Zuko’s attention immediately. But we must tread carefully if we’re to ever get a confession out of Tatsunori. We have the evidence.”

“It’s all up to him now whether he’s willing to spill or not,” Kenzo agreed.

Sokka smirked, his tone laced with confidence. “We’ve got him alright.”

Chapter Text

Another fanart drawn by me last year for this fanfic, this time of Princess Azula.

Excerpt from “Female Warriors Throughout History”:

(Editor’s note: In compliance with a royal edict enforced by Fire Lord Zuko, all texts written in the Fire Nation on the Princess Azula, including this one, had to be approved by him before publication. Older texts were also required to be revised. This particular decree giving Fire Lord Zuko the full right of control and censorship implies that he wanted to protect his sister’s reputation.)  

As an important member of its Royal Family, Princess Azula played a key role in fighting for the Fire Nation during both the Hundred Year War and the Cold War. She is renowned for her exceptional intelligence, extraordinary competence and inordinate ambition in politics, and her skill in combat. Her remarkable leadership is recognized and comparable to other notable royal women in world history, including that of her sister-in-law, Fire Lady Katara.

It must be noted, however, that Princess Azula has a reputation for being considered one of the most ruthless leaders in history. Even after being mentally healed, she remains a controversial figure primarily because of her past war crimes and personal actions against any she considered an enemy.

“Where and when did everything go wrong, Zuko?”

Leaning on the balcony’s frosted glass railing, Zuko turned his head to look at Katara. She did not look back at him, continuing to stare straight ahead at the vast view of the city below. She wasn’t even middle-aged yet, and already her brown hair was streaked with silver-grey, her face creased from stress. These were but minor imperfections to Zuko, who thought she was still as mesmerizing as ever. They were a sign of their many years together.

The only thing he disliked was the unhappy frown on her face for, while he would give his life for her in anything, he knew this was something he couldn’t protect her from. Anything even within his power would be futile. Despite being fully aware of his helplessness, fool that he was, he refused to let that stop him from still trying.

“I don’t know,” he eventually whispered. “I don’t even think there was a definitive starting point.”

“I can’t come to terms with it. I still keep asking myself: why? Why did any of this have to happen?”

“Fate, I guess. Terrible, horrible fate,” was his numb answer.

Katara let out a high-pitched laugh, tinged with a mix of madness and anguish. “And aren’t we two the lucky ones to have to bear it?”

Zuko made no reply, only rubbing the blue necklace tied around his wrist. Exactly as he had worn it many years ago, the sensation of the cool stone never failed to calm him.

“You know, Shyu told me that he and the other Fire Sages would pray for us and give offerings to the spirits in the hopes of appeasing them. I said not to even bother. It’s pointless.” Bowing her head, Katara let her long hair shield her face. “If there’s anything I learned about the spirits, it’s that none of them have mercy.”

“Katara…”

The waterbender at last fully turned to face him. “Tell me, Zuko, do you regret any of it? If you could take it all back, would you?”

It would have certainly spared them an eternity of pain and loss. But what about all the memories of joy and blessings? Was he willing to let go of those too, just to ease the suffering and avoid the cost? Zuko already knew his answer, not even needing to think about it.

“Never…I’d choose you every time.”

“Do you hate me for it?”

“I could never hate you.”

“I did what I had to do. What I thought I must do.”

“I know.” Embracing her in his arms, Zuko pressed a tender kiss upon her head. “I’m equally responsible in this, Katara. We both knew the consequences. We knew how things would end. But even so, I’d never give you up.”

He pulled away to look her in the eye, not letting go of his hold on her. “You’re my moon of my nights.”

A sad faint smile tugged on Katara’s lips at the familiar phrase. It was the first real smile he had seen on her for a long time.

“My sun of my days,” she whispered back.

“Don’t give up hope, Katara. You were never one to lose it, even in the darkest of times.”

What faint traces of happiness there had been in her expression deadened back to an empty stare. A resounding silence followed.

“That Katara died ages ago…”

When he woke up the next morning, Zuko remembered everything. Every vivid detail, every single word… He kept replaying the scene again and again in his mind. This older version of himself and Katara…could what he saw possibly be a vision of them in the future? Or was it just a dream triggered by his emotions last night, or from everything that had been going on lately? Though it frightened him, he didn’t think it could be the latter. It felt too real.

The Katara in his vision, so bitter and broken, was a version of her he’d never witnessed before. Not even in her raw moments during their search and discovery of Yon Rha. That Katara still had fire in her with a personal vendetta to fuel it. This Katara had no spark at all. Out of all the terrible things Zuko knew about the future, somehow that was the most terrifying of them.

But then he thought of the brief tenderness between him and the shadow of the girl he knew. He didn’t know how to process it. Not to mention what Izumi had told him and Katara last night.

Though it all continued to linger at the back of his head, Zuko told himself to let the matter rest for now. There were more important things to be settled, such as the guilty man before him. He frowned, summing up Tatsunori, who glared right back. The Royal Treasurer’s attempt to show he wasn’t frightened was poor by how obviously he was wringing his hands together. There was a glistening sheen of sweat on his brow as he sat there under the watchful eyes of Zuko, Iroh, Kenzo, Sokka, Suki, and Toph.

Zuko threw the incriminating accounting book upon the table in front of them. “Explain that to us, Tatsunori.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“We know that’s a damned lie, and even Toph doesn’t need to tell us that,” Sokka said.

“And according to a lot of pages in there,” Zuko added, gesturing to the book, “there has clearly been some embezzling going on.”

“I’m being framed,” Tatsunori said.

“Another lie,” Toph interjected.

The Royal Treasurer glared at her. “No comment.”

Zuko raised his eyebrows. “No? Very well then, I’ll save us the time. It’s clear that you’re responsible for the stolen funds and are also part of illegal activities with anonymous people of suspicion. The evidence is undeniable. We even have two witnesses who saw you last night.” He gestured to Sokka and Suki. “Now, I’ll admit I’ve grown to control my temper since my early years as a teenager, but that doesn’t extend to me having little patience when it comes to corruption. This is your last chance to tell us the truth. Who are you working with?”

The crazy idea of actually trying to make a break for it briefly crossed Tatsunori’s mind. He glanced at the door, knowing at least four guards stood behind it. He then looked back at the skilled benders and fighters, waiting for his confession. Toph, who was leaning back casually in her chair, tapped her foot against the stone floor.

“You’re not walking out of here with another lie, bud. In fact, you’re not leaving period until you spill,” she said. “So, just get it over with, will ya?”

Seeing they were getting nowhere after a long silence, Zuko leaned forward. “Sokka and Suki informed me of the threats made concerning your family. If you’re not honest with us, there will be no way to protect you or them from the consequences. Do you understand that?”

Pressure combined with fear and anger finally made Tatsunori explode. “You damn fools, don’t you know that my talking will only endanger them even more?!”

“Your family is already safe and under the protection of a unit in my Royal Guard. They have been moved to a safehouse. It’s by staying silent that you keep them at risk because it means the perpetrators are still out there and will continue to be so if you don’t speak.”

That seemed to break the Royal Treasurer’s resolve. He slumped forward, his voice trembling. “They’ll still come for me. I’ll be as good as dead.”

“Who will come for you?”

“I…I don’t know who they are. They always wore hooded cloaks and masks to cover their faces. At first, they won me over by saying they were a resistance that would bring back the glory days of the Fire Nation. But then, when it became more difficult for me to meet their demands, they began blackmailing me. They have been for months. Mark my words, they’re powerful. Ruthless. They know everything about me, my wife, and my children. If I didn’t cooperate, we’d all be dead.”

“He’s not lying,” Toph said.

“Was it just money they wanted, my lord? Or were there other services required of you?” Iroh asked.  

“They just forced me to siphon funds specifically from the royal coffers,” Tatsunori said. “At first, it was just small amounts, but then they started raising the numbers. They didn’t care if it looked suspicious or if it ruined me.”

Kenzo exchanged a grave look with Iroh. “If they’re threatening one member of the Grand Council, they could be blackmailing others as well. Or even other members of the aristocracy who have the resources.”

“And you have no idea who they are? Nothing to identify them?” Zuko asked.

“No. Only that they’re organized and dangerous.” Then, in a moment of desperation, Tatsunori begged, “Please, Your Majesty, I didn’t have a choice! Have mercy.”

Zuko’s expression was unreadable as he leaned back in his chair. “You may have been blackmailed, but you should have come forward and reported it. You still chose to steal from the Crown and the people. You’ll be arrested and face trial for your actions.”

Tatsunori let out a splutter, his face so scarlet and wrinkled in his rage that Sokka thought he looked like a red cabbage. “And this is the thanks I get for helping you! I am still an important nobleman and part of the Grand Council!”

“Not anymore,” Zuko said.

Tatsunori sprang to his feet and banged his fists on the table, looking like he was ready to spring. The guards who burst in at the noise were beaten by Toph who, not even rising from her chair, simply stomped one foot to the ground, encasing Tatsunori in stone.

Ignoring the profanity coming from Tatsunori’s mouth, Zuko ordered the guards, “Take him away and place him under strict supervision.”

Leaving the interrogation room with his friends and two uncles, Zuko heaved a sigh before turning to Iroh, “Uncle, is it too much to ask if I request that you take over Tatsunori’s post until I can find a replacement for him?”

“Not at all, nephew.”

“Iroh and I will continue investigating, Your Majesty,” Kenzo reassured. “The White Lotus will use every resource at our disposal to uncover these criminals.”

“Do whatever it takes to uncover the truth,” Zuko said.

“Rest assured, Your Majesty, we will.”

When the two older men left, Sokka asked, “Hey, Zuko, can we talk for a sec? In private?”

“Sure.”

Suki and Toph took the hint and walked away, but not before Sokka pointedly said, “No eavesdropping, Toph.” The earthbender stuck her tongue out in his direction.

“Let’s go to my study, shall we?” Zuko suggested.

Once they were shut inside the quiet chamber, he asked, “So, what’s up?”

“I, uh…wanted to give you a heads-up about something.” Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, staring out the window. “After the Elemental Expo wraps up, I’m going to hand in my resignation notice as the Southern Water Tribe ambassador.”

Zuko blinked in surprise. “Resignation?”

“Yeah, this is something I’ve been planning for a while.”

“This isn’t because you are unhappy here, right? You haven’t been experiencing any work harassment, have you?”

“What? No, no, no. I have other reasons. And one big one in particular…” Sokka grinned. “…I’m planning to propose to Suki.”

Zuko’s face lit up. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” From his inner pocket, Sokka pulled out a small wooden box, opening it to reveal a beautifully carved betrothal necklace. Hanging from a green ribbon, the pendant was carved from jade with an intricate Kyoshi fan surrounded by Water Tribe waves.

“Wow,” Zuko breathed, leaning closer to examine the craftsmanship. “Impressive. How long did it take you to make?”

“About three weeks.”

“She’ll love it,” Zuko said with confidence. “Congratulations, Sokka. Does anyone else know?”

“Just Katara. And I sent a letter to Dad, Gran-gran, and Pakku so they know what’s up. Suki and I have been discussing marriage since last year, but I wanted to make sure everything was lined up before I officially popped the question.

“As for another reason for my resignation, I’ll have to go back to the Southern Water Tribe eventually to train under my dad. I’m of age now, and he’ll be grooming me to take over as Chief one day. Obviously, that’s not something I can do from here. When talking about our future, Suki and I agreed that we’ll probably juggle our time back and forth between here and Kyoshi Island. But with the new responsibilities we’ll have, we don’t think we’ll be able to include the ones we have in the Fire Nation as well.”

Zuko nodded. “That’s understandable. You’ll both be deeply missed here in Caldera City, but I wish you much happiness.”

“Thanks.” Then, his usual confidence wavering a moment, Sokka blushed. “Uh…there’s actually another reason why I wanted to talk with you first. I was hoping you’d give me some advice.”

“Me?” Zuko privately thought his Uncle Iroh would be a better man to ask for any guidance.

“Well, yeah. You and Mai seem to have this whole marriage thing down. You know, balancing being a couple while you’re running a country. I’m just…you know, looking for tips.”

“Marriage isn’t always easy, especially with so many responsibilities. But it helps when your partner is someone who understands you and your goals. It sounds like you and Suki already have that. Honestly, Sokka, you’ll do fine. You’re both strong, great at communication, and you’ve been through so much together. I’m cheering for you.”

The relief was evident on Sokka’s face as he slapped Zuko’s shoulder. “Thanks, dude. That means a lot. And don’t tell anyone else yet, alright? I want it to be a surprise.”

Zuko pretended to zip his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Sweet,” Sokka said, then wiggling his eyebrows, “Hey, maybe I’ll throw you a necklace-making lesson sometime. I bet you could use a hobby, and Mai might like some new jewellery to add to her collection.”

The Fire Lord chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll pass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a spar with my sister.”

Sokka shuddered with a cringe. “Good luck with that, bro.”

On the training grounds, the clanging of metal echoed sharply in the air as Zuko and Azula faced off, their blades gleaming in the sunlight beating down. With the same calculated precision that once made her a feared prodigy, Azula clashed her naginata with Zuko’s twin dao swords, showing no sign of relenting.

Observing the match on the side were Yagoda and Jee. While the admiral wore a bemused grin, clearly enjoying the show, Yagoda’s hands were twisted together in fright.

“Oh, do be careful!” she kept exclaiming.

Dismissing the concern of her worrywart of a healer, Azula advanced towards her brother with a smirk. “Come on, Zuzu. If you don’t want me to beat up your stupid ass, you’re going to have to actually try.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, sidestepping a quick jab she did with her naginata. “I am trying, Azula. You’re the one who thinks otherwise, just because you’re impossible to satisfy.”

“Flattery won’t save you, Zuzu. I already know that I’m perfect.”

“That wasn’t—”

Not letting him finish, Azula continued, “And on the contrary, you’re simply the one not meeting the mark.”

She twisted her weapon in a fluid arc that nearly sent one of his blades flying. Azula was like a viper bat, her every strike precise and unabating. Despite her lack of bending, she didn’t miss a beat, still as assertive and lethal as ever. But whereas Azula had the advantages of extended reach and distance, thanks to her naginata, Zuko had the advantage of maneuverability. His discipline on point, he countered with defensive movements, their purpose intent on turning Azula’s aggression against her.

“If this is seriously all you’ve got, Zuzu, then it’s no wonder everyone talks of me as the better sibling,” Azula taunted. “Even without my bending, I’m still able to kick your ass.”

“Very well. I’ll stop playing fair then,” Zuko called back. He jumped into the air, released a controlled burst of flames from his feet, forcing her to pivot and deflect them.

Azula’s eyes gleamed. “Finally, a challenge.”

The spar became even more dynamic as Zuko incorporated his firebending into his strikes. Flames twined around his blades like living serpents, adding weight and intensity to each swing. Her naginata clashing back with expert precision, Azula was unflinching even as the heat of his flames licked at her. The gnarled part in her heart that still held resentment envied her brother still being able to bend, but her natural confidence overcrowded it. And though she’d never admit it, she liked any opportunity for a fight to show any opponent who was really boss.

Just as Zuko made a bold overhead strike, Azula sidestepped and swept his legs out from under him with her naginata’s shaft. Before he could recover, the tip of her gleaming blade was at his throat, her triumphant grin as pleased as a cat owl’s.

“You lose, brother dearest,” she said in a sing-song tone.

Zuko sighed but smirked back at her. “Alright, you win. Again.”

“48-3,” Azula made sure to emphasize.

The sound of clapping interrupted the moment. Katara, Izumi, and Ty Lee had entered the training grounds and were politely applauding, though Ty Lee’s was the most enthusiastic.

“Nice job, Azula!” she called.

Lowering her naginata, Azula took a dramatic bow before looking back at Zuko with the same smug look. Never hesitant to keep rubbing it in, she sassily flipped her ponytail in his direction, much to his chagrin, before walking over to the others. Plopping down on the ground, she pulled out a flask of fire whiskey from her robe, which she had left on the side, taking a huge swig.

Yagoda fixed her with a stern look. “Your Highness, it is not even the middle of the morning yet. Must you drink at so early an hour?”

“Yagoda, must you mother me so incessantly?” Azula shot back, though her tone lacked its usual venom.

As Zuko sheathed his dao swords and walked over to them, Izumi came up to him with wide-eyed admiration. “That was amazing, both of you,” she complimented, looking between him and his sister. “You were both so fast and strong. I couldn’t even tell who would win until the end.”

Azula raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Flattery will get you everywhere, kid. Keep it coming.”

“I thought you said to me not too long ago, and I quote, ‘Flattery won’t save you’,” Zuko said, raising his eyes to the sky.

Azula ignored him, more interested in her drink.

Izumi smiled brightly and turned to Zuko. “You too, Zuko. You were really cool.”

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Thanks, Izumi. Maybe I’ll teach you some moves one day.”

“Tch. The naginata is far superior to dao swords, in my opinion,” Azula said.

Katara exchanged a glance with Zuko, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You really didn’t hold back, did you?”

“She’d never let me hear the end of it if I did,” Zuko said, casting a fond look at his sister.

“Damn right,” Azula muttered before taking another swig of her drink.

“So, what brings you all here?” Zuko asked Ty Lee.

She said, “Izumi wanted Katara to give a little waterbending demonstration.”

“I’ve seen some waterbenders from the Northern Water Tribe doing it at a performance at last night’s festival. But since I’ve never seen Katara bend yet, she agreed to let me watch,” Izumi said.

She neglected to add how sorry she felt at causing Katara such distress last night, wanting to perhaps help by distracting the waterbender with something she knew she would enjoy.

“I thought I could show her some specific bending moves that are specifically from the South,” Katara added.

Izumi’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly, and she said, “I just wish I were a bender too. It would be so cool to bend water like Katara or fire like you, Zuko.”

Zuko knelt beside the girl, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Being a bender isn’t everything, Izumi. Strength and skill come in many forms. You’ve got plenty of those.”

Izumi brightened again, but then a new idea struck her. “Ooh! How about the three of you give a demonstration! I’ve never seen water and firebending together before!”

Her suggestion caused a pause. Azula frowned slightly, while Zuko’s expression turned awkward. He glanced at his sister, unsure of how to respond.

Breaking the silence with a sharp huff, Azula said, “Not happening. I haven’t been a bender for five years, in case anyone forgot.”

Zuko winced. “Azula—”

But she waved him off. “Save it. I’m fine. Really.” Her tone was brisk, though her sharp gaze dared anyone to press further. “You two can do it. I’ll just enjoy the show.”

Zuko hesitated, concern evident in his expression. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Azula retorted, leaning back and taking another swig of her whiskey. “I can sit out one duel without falling into despair, Zuzu. Now go, impress the child.”

“This is going to be amazing!” Izumi clapped her hands together, thrilled.

Katara glanced at Zuko before nodding. “Alright, then. Let’s make it fun.”

Was it just her, or did he look at her…differently? Katara couldn’t decipher his expression exactly, but she sensed something was off.

The glance he gave almost made it seem like he knew.

Looking away, Katara recalled the dream she had last night that had been haunting her since her waking hours. An older version of her and Zuko. Them as Fire Lord and Fire Lady. Standing upon a balcony looking out to the city. The gravity of their conversation.

Katara couldn’t recognize the tall building that they were in. It seemed to be made of glass so frosted that its appearance looked to be that of ice. The sun rays reflecting off its surface had dazzled everything in an array of colours. But despite the luminous atmosphere, the one between her and Zuko was a sombre grey.

She couldn’t understand anything of what passed between them, their words meaningless to her due to their hidden context. If what she had was a vision of the future—and the thought had crossed her mind—were they possibly talking about the war Izumi had warned about?

Ugh, as if she needed more on top of the episode that happened last night. A pang in her chest resurfaced in remembrance of the child’s name that Izumi revealed.

‘You’re my moon of my nights.’

Some part of her brain which couldn’t be reined in made her imagine the words coming out of the mouth of Zuko right before her. Katara had to swiftly duck her head so none could see the flush she felt rising to her cheeks. A quick memory of Toph scratching her armpits banished the thought from her mind.

Getting ready, Katara tied her loose, flowing hair into a tight braid, turning around to see Zuko shrugging off his tunic. Her face went hot-red once more. What in Tui’s name was she getting so embarrassed for? She’d seen Zuko shirtless before when he trained with Aang on Ember Island. But that was when he had a slimmer frame. Now, with years of physical growth, exercise, and a proper nutritional diet every day, his muscles had filled out. Trying not to look too intensely at the hard lines of his abs, Katara’s focus shifted to the star-shaped scar across his chest, the sight of it filling her with guilt.

“You ready?” Zuko asked, stepping to face her at a reasonable distance.

He tried to disregard her not-so-subtle expression. He knew she had been checking him out.

Katara pulled water from the drains running along the sides of the training grounds. “Ready.”

Not wanting to miss a second, none of their audience blinked as the two opponents stood still in their stances. A swift exchange started the duel as Zuko unleashed controlled jets of flame forward. Katara’s water snaked through the air, deflecting the heat and extinguishing the fire with elegant, fluid movements.

The large courtyard became a stage of elements as fire and water collided, steam hissing with each clash. Spinning in a low arc, Zuko sent a wall of fire skimming along the ground. But even the brute force of it stood no chance against Katara’s deflection. With a surge of water obeying her raised arms’ commands, she absorbed the flames and then shot them forward in a shimmering tsunami-like wave. Not even waiting for Zuko’s next move as he parried her attack, she next pulled more water, firing it in a barrage of sharp icicles.

To dodge was impossible. His eyes widening, Zuko’s instincts kicked in as he quickly melted them with a fiery blast—all but one, which nearly missed the side of his face.

“Woah…” Izumi gasped.

Right next to her, Azula crossed her arms with a stony face. Though she’d sooner slit her own throat with her naginata than admit it, her supposed aloofness hid her pang of longing as she watched the sight of the bending spectacle. Still, her lips unintentionally twitched into a faint smirk as Katara narrowly dodged one of Zuko’s blazing strikes.

“Zuzu’s gotten better.” Then, noticing everyone smiling in her direction at her comment, she scowled again. “You didn’t hear me say that.”

She reached into a lacquered box at her side, withdrawing her kiseru pipe. Packing it with tobacco, she then gestured to Jee. “Light this, will you?”

The grizzled captain tried not to sigh as he snapped his fingers, letting a flame bloom over one and holding it out for her. Azula leaned in, taking a slow drag until the pipe’s embers glowed, exhaling a stream of smoke that hung in the air like a ghostly ribbon. Yagoda’s lips pursed together as they always did at her charge’s addictions.

Coughing slightly, Ty Lee waved a hand in front of her nose. “Azula, you know that stuff smells awful, right?”

Izumi coughed as well until she saw Azula giving her a sidelong glance. But rather than being intimidated by the princess’s sharp expression as many others were, Izumi met her gaze calmly. So used to her brusque demeanour scaring off people, Azula didn’t know whether the little girl was brave or stupid.

“You’re…not at all what I expected,” Izumi remarked.

Azula took another drag from her pipe, smoke curling around her face as she exhaled. Her voice was edged with dry amusement. “Well, you’ve had your look at the Mad Princess. The one who has fallen from grace.”

“You seem…different from what my Auntie Ty Lee told me about you. In fact, you’re one of the people I admire the most.”

The scoff that escaped Azula’s lips was sharp and immediate. “And just what was this version of myself in your fanciful tall tales like?”

“You rode a blue dragon named Inazuma and served as Fire Lord Zuko’s Minister of Defence. And during the war twenty-five years in the future, you helped lead the Fire Nation armies to many victories.”

“A dragon? Minister of Defence? What nonsense. You actually believe that bullshit? From all the gossip I’ve overheard, you had never left Kyoshi Island before. How would you know all this personal stuff about me if what you say is true? And in case you didn’t know already, Zuzu possesses the only living dragon.”

But Izumi was undeterred, continuing, “Auntie Ty Lee also said you were still a skilled fighter, even without your bending. But you regained it later—and even though you did, you still always kept your naginata with you. The elders, one time when teaching a history lesson, called it ‘Mother’s Wail’.” They said you could use it so expertly that it rivalled your firebending in combat.”

At the mention of regaining her bending along with the name associated with her weapon, Azula’s fingers tightened slightly on her pipe. Her expression flickered, just for a moment, before her usual guarded look returned.

“Mother’s Wail? Such poetic nonsense. Sounds like a name someone made up to romanticize me.”

Izumi shook her head. “The elders said you named it yourself.”

The sounds of Katara and Zuko’s spar faded in the background as Azula stared at the weapon lying beside her. She took another slow drag from her pipe, her face carefully neutral.

Ty Lee, Yagoda, and Jee exchanged surprised glances. This was the longest Azula had remained quiet with anyone other than Yagoda.

“I don’t believe you,” Azula finally said.

Izumi gave her a small, sad smile. “That’s okay.”

Azula frowned at the girl’s calm acceptance; her sharp retort caught in her throat. For a moment, she only stared at Izumi, her amber eyes narrowed as if trying to decipher the child’s intent. The embers of her pipe glowed faintly as she turned away to stare off into the distance.

Meanwhile, Zuko and Katara were still moving fluidly about the courtyard, neither showing any sign of fatigue or a slip-up. Katara’s waterbending was like a dance, her water whips blending grace with raw power. With carefully measured firebending attacks, Zuko’s fighting was just as sharp and controlled, though occasionally he found himself distracted, marvelling at her pure skill.

Suddenly, a simultaneous attack—Katara flying forward on a wave toward Zuko, who barrelled at her, his hands and feet aflame—sent an explosion of steam bursting across the training grounds. Momentarily blinded until the water vapour cleared, their audience saw the pair of them locked in an entangled position, Katara with an icicle at Zuko’s chest and Zuko with his index and middle finger at her throat. Their chests heaved as they both panted from the exertion.

Only the sound of clapping from Izumi, Ty Lee, and Yagoda made them return to their senses.

“Looks like...a tie,” Katara said between breaths, lowering her hands.

Zuko nodded, his amber eyes meeting hers. For a moment, they stood too close, the world around them fading into silence. Katara’s heart skipped a beat as she noticed the subtle warmth in Zuko’s gaze. His hand almost reached out before he cleared his throat abruptly and looked away.

“Um, I-I should probably get back to my paperwork,” Zuko stammered, stepping back quickly.

Katara nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, of course.”

From the sidelines, Azula let out a loud, exaggerated gagging sound. “Oh, for Agni’s sake,” she drawled. “If you’re going to stand there making googly eyes at each other, at least have the decency to actually finish the damn fight.”

“We weren’t making googly eyes at each other!” Katara and Zuko shouted at the same time.

“Sure…” Azula said, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe them.

“And for the record, we are done the fight,” Zuko huffed, muttering something under his breath as he put his tunic back on.

Katara rubbed her hands awkwardly, watching him go before throwing an annoyed glance at Azula. The Fire Nation princess choked on her laughter, and even Jee cracked a rare smile.

“That was amazing, Katara!” Izumi complimented. “Thank you for being willing to show me your bending.”

“It was a pleasure, Izumi. I’d honestly forgotten how liberating it feels to use it for something other than healing.”

“Yes, it’s honestly such a shame that your powerful abilities are wasted,” Azula interjected. “All thanks to your role no longer being what it was.”

“Your Highness…” Yagoda softly scolded.

Katara’s eyes narrowed at the princess. “What do you mean?”

Sensing everyone’s auras turning into shades of black, red, and grey, Ty Lee grabbed Izumi’s hand saying, “Why don’t you and I see if the kitchens have any spare bites to eat?”

Right after they left, Azula looked Katara straight in the eye. “Things have changed now that the war is over. Admit it, peasant. You’ve become superfluous to your once tight-knit ragtag band.”

Her words felt like a slap in the face. Though she was aware that part of Azula’s power came from her way of words, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“You’re wrong,” Katara said.

Though even as she said it, a small part of her wondered if Azula might be right. She had always seen herself as the emotional centre, the one who kept the group grounded, even when things were falling apart. She had been there for everyone, keeping them together when everything seemed to be unravelling. But now, like Azula said…things had changed. Aang was often travelling, being the Avatar and peacemaker of the world. Zuko was busy with his Fire Lord duties. Sokka and Suki had their own roles to play within the royal court. And Toph was…Toph was always going to be Toph, independent to the core.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” the Fire Nation princess replied coolly. “I already made a clear judgment from all the stories I’ve heard. You may not realize it, but you were the true anchor for all your comrades—not the Avatar, no matter what people praise him to be. And now that everything is falling apart, you’re the one who’s no longer needed. You’ve lost your place. It’s a shame, really. You were the glue that kept them all together.”

Katara didn’t know what stung the most. The truth Azula spoke or how easily she saw the heart of the matter. Yet, another strength of the Fire Nation princess. How could she just see through a person as easily as if they were made of glass? It was terrifying in its clarity and coldness, and Katara didn't want to admit that a part of her had always envied that certainty. She could almost hear that nagging voice in the back of her mind, echoing the same sentiment: be strong, don’t depend on others, don’t show weakness.

“But you don’t really need them,” Azula continued. “You’re ambitious, peasant. You always have been. You were always willing to sacrifice for them, but what about you?”

If looks were as sharp as Katara’s icicles, Azula would be skewered from the glare the waterbender was giving her. “What are you talking about?” Katara asked.

“Ugh, I don’t even need to be with you 24/7 to be able to tell. You want something more, but you keep burying it under your loyalty to them, your need to be the nurturing one. Don’t get me wrong, it’s admirable—pathetic, stupid, weak, but admirable. But deep down, I think you want power. Control.”

Katara’s breath caught in her throat. Tatsunori had said practically the same thing to her at Zuko’s birthday ball.

“I don’t…I don’t want to be like you,” Katara whispered. Though she held her ground, the words felt hollow, as if they lacked the conviction she wished she had.

Azula laughed—a sound that was entirely without warmth. “Yes…but whether you like it or not, you’re more like me than you think. Not entirely, but we have our similarities. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

There was a long pause. Katara stared at Azula, feeling something shift in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to retort, to tell Azula that she didn’t understand, that she was wrong, but she couldn’t. Not when she felt the truth of it gnawing at her insides.

“What are you suggesting?” Katara asked after a long beat.

Had she been holding onto something that wasn’t even hers to control?

“I’m suggesting that maybe it’s time you stop giving a fuck. Why cling to a role that no longer serves you? Maybe it’s time for you to find your own path. One where you’re not just supporting everyone else. And when I say everyone else, I mean especially an emotionally immature boy who likes being mothered and refuses to accept the idea of you having ambitions.”

Katara was silent for a long moment. Her mind raced with the implications of Azula’s words.

“But I’m already content. I love serving others to the best of my ability. That’s why I accepted becoming Minister of Social Affairs.”

“Mm,” Azula hummed. Her golden eyes narrowed into slits, and her knowing smile curved even wider. “But it isn’t enough, is it?

Katara’s heart dropped.

But before she could say anything back, Azula added, “Besides, I’m sure there are many in this country who’d rather have you next to my brother than Mai. I’ll bet ever since they heard about what that kid blabbed about the future, that they’re already counting Mai’s days on this wretched earth.”

“Azula!” Katara cried.

“What? It’s true. The stuffy old nobles may hate you for your less-than-fortunate upbringing and heritage, but they are a small minority compared to the rest of the general population.” She rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan. “The peasants love you to bits.”

“Wouldn’t they prefer a Fire Nation-born woman too?”

Azula took another inhale from her pipe. “The peasants couldn't care less about whose ass sits on the Dragon Throne unless it’s a leader who offers them lower taxes, relief from famines and droughts, and charity. A Fire Lady who spends all day in bed like Mai is hardly that.”

“That’s because she’s ill—and pregnant on top of that!” Katara protested. “Mai suffered numerous losses just for the sake of giving this country an heir.”

Azula shrugged, unable to care less. “Well, it is how it is.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Finally meeting Azula’s gaze, Katara at last said, “I never thought I’d be hearing all this from you.” Her voice held a mixture of disbelief and a grudging sense of respect—respect for the insight Azula had shown, even if it came wrapped in cruelty.

Azula rolled her eyes. “Credit my tea aficionado uncle. I’ve heard enough of his inane ramblings.”

She took a blow from her kiseru pipe, letting Katara process everything, the words echoing in her mind like a distant drumbeat, impossible to ignore.

After an awkward silence, Azula stubbed out her pipe and said, “Okay, enough with all this chit-chat. I’m bored. Go pick up the kusarigama over there.”

Katara’s eyes confusedly followed Azula’s finger to where it was pointing—a large rack of weapons set up at the side of the courtyard. “What?”

“The one with the long chain,” Azula clarified, rolling her eyes. “Well, hurry up!”

Unsure why she was even bothering to obey, Katara walked over to the rack. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar array of weapons until she spotted the one Azula had pointed to. It was unlike anything she had ever wielded before—a sickle with a long chain attached to it. At the end of the chain was a heavy iron weight shaped like a phoenix’s claw. The weapon looked as dangerous to its wielder as it was to an opponent.

She hesitated, glancing at Yagoda and Jee, who had remained silent the entire time. Both stood off to the side, watching her intently but offering no advice. Yagoda’s expression was a mix of concern and resignation, while Jee seemed unreadable, his arms crossed as if silently weighing her decision.

With a deep breath, Katara reached out and took the weapon, the cool steel of the sickle and chain sending a shiver up her arm. She gave the chain a tentative swing, testing its weight and balance. It wasn’t entirely foreign—the motion reminded her of the fluid movements she used with her waterbending whip—but it still felt awkward in her hands.

Azula leaned against her naginata with a smirk, clearly enjoying Katara’s discomfort. “Don’t just stand there gawking at it. You’re not going to learn anything until you actually use it.”

The kusarigama’s chain dragging lightly against the ground, Katara demanded, “And what exactly am I supposed to be learning here?”

Twirling her naginata with one hand, Azula chuckled, “How not to embarrass yourself, for starters.”

Then, with a malicious grin, she crooned, “Besides, I’ve been itching to get back at ya for the little stunt you pulled during that Agni Kai five years ago…”

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of his bedchamber, Aang tried not to lose his concentration as he meditated, a soft glow coming from his tattoos. Focus proved difficult, however, with his mind distracted by various images of Katara and Zuko. Locked in an embrace. Dancing under a firework-filled sky. Peace trying to wage war against the storm within him, Aang took a few deep breaths, steadying himself.

Finally, Avatar Kuruk materialized before him. “I know you’ve been carrying a heavy weight, kid.”

“Then, you know why I need your guidance. You once told me about Ummi and how you lost her…” Aang’s voice couldn’t stop wavering with his confession. “…and I’m scared I’m going to lose Katara.”

The name of his lost love stirred an ache within Kuruk that didn’t fully disappear. It never would.

“It never really goes away…the pain. I’ve suffered countless losses, but Ummi was the worst of them.”

Aang’s eyes dropped to his lap. “What did you do?”

“I spent the rest of my life chasing shadows, throwing myself into an impossible fight just to bring her back. I thought if I could, it would fix everything. Instead, I just wasted what little time I had left, leaving behind the burden of discord and chaos for poor souls to shoulder after my death.”

If Kuruk thought his answer would offer Aang directions on what not to do, it gave little reassurance to the lost boy. “I can’t lose Katara. Not just because I love her, but because…I’m afraid.”

“You mean the little girl’s future warnings,” Kuruk stated.

“What will happen to the world if Katara does choose Zuko over me? What if it throws everything out of balance? Will what Izumi said…happen if so?”

Kuruk studied him for a long moment before replying, “You’re asking the wrong questions, Aang. The world’s balance doesn’t hinge on who you love. It depends on your choices, your actions. Trying to force the universe to align with your feelings? That’s not balance; that’s selfishness.” He pointedly added, “And I’m not just talking about romantic feelings.”

Aang flinched. “But seeing her last night…with Zuko…it hurt. It still hurts. I can’t even bother denying that it’s jealousy.”

He could still remember sitting high in a tree at the shrine, having gone up for a better view. And then just a couple of minutes later, Katara and Zuko arrived with Izumi, none of them aware of his presence. Before he knew it, Katara and Zuko were dancing together, lost in an emotional moment that should have been solely between himself and Katara. It was the second day in a row that he chanced upon them in an intimate manner.

Kuruk’s gaze turned stern but not unkind. “Jealousy is a deadly poison to the head and heart, Aang, when it clouds your judgement. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to ask yourself: are you holding onto Katara because it’s what’s best for her, or because it’s what’s best for you?”

Aang opened his mouth to respond, but found no words.

“Love is supposed to set you free, not chain you down,” Kuruk continued. “I learned that lesson too late by letting only Ummi consume everything in my very being. It became an obsession—so much so that I was ignorant of all the rest. Don’t make the same mistake, Aang. Trust Katara to make her own decisions. If you don’t, you’re just going to end up chasing ghosts like I did.”

The knot in Aang’s chest refused to unravel. None of this was helpful or certain. The path forward only looked all the murkier.

“Thank you,” he eventually said, though his voice lacked conviction.

His form beginning to fade, Kuruk said, “You’ve got a good heart, kid. Just don’t let it blind you…”

The oppressive silence broken only by the distant clanging of mental gates and the occasional shuffle of guards’ footsteps, Tatsunori sulked in his dimly lit cell. For a grand aristocrat like himself, a descendant of one of the oldest noble families, to be shut up in the slammer! It was a stain Tatsunori knew would stick with his name and that of his lineage which he sullied.

The cold stone walls seemed to press in on him as he scowled at the meagre meal placed before him. Just a bowl of rice, a small serving of pickled vegetables, and a cup of steaming tea. Not even a piece of meat?! If not for his hunger, he’d have thrown the entire tray in the face of the guard who delivered it to him.

Picking up his tea, his furious mind raced with all the imagined ways he’d get back at Zuko if he ever got out. But underneath the rage was the fear. He knew the ones pulling the strings wouldn’t forgive such a slip. Agni, that damn interrogation had taken everything out of him!

As he sipped the tea, a strange bitterness lingered on his tongue, more potent than he expected. His throat tightened, and a searing pain shot through his chest, as though lava was streaking through his esophagus. He dropped the cup, clutching his stomach as he doubled over, violent coughs wracking his body.

The guard who delivered his meal stepped into view at the sounds of Tatsunori’s life ebbing away. The skull-like faceplate of his helmet hid his satisfied expression as he watched blood spewing from Tatsunori’s mouth. The prisoner gasped for air, his vision blurring as crimson trails trickled from his nostrils.

“You should’ve known better than to fess up,” the guard hissed. “Don’t worry. If the spirits are merciful to you, your wife and children are already waiting for you on the other side.”

His eyes widening in horror, Tatsunori tried to garble out his last threat, but no words came out. His body gave one final shudder before he went still.

The guard smirked, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a tightly rolled scroll. Slipping it through the bars, he placed it beside Tatsunori’s lifeless body, making sure it was clearly visible. He glanced around to ensure no witnesses were nearby, then turned on his heel and strode away.

The scroll bore a simple, ominous seal—a gold phoenix against a blood-red background. Its presence was a message as clear as the crimson stains on the floor: silence was mandatory, and betrayal was death.

Chapter Text

Excerpt from the eye-witness account of Haishi Chow, the Fire Nation Minister of Education:

When Fire Lord Zuko wed Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe in 110 AG, many leaders and diplomats from the other nations were in attendance. However, the absence of Avatar Aang, the Air Acolytes, and the Northern Water Tribe did not go unnoticed.

At one point, to the surprise and interest of many, the newly crowned Fire Lady Katara and the Princess Azula bowed deeply to each other with due regard at the ceremony. Calling the other “sister” with further exchanged courtesies, this notable show of mutual respect had many debating its genuineness.

“Alright, peasant. Show me what you’ve got,” Azula demanded.

She noticed Katara’s eyebrow twitch at the demeaning insult. This girl seriously needed to take a chill pill. If she knew this Water Tribe savage was so easy to rile up, she’d be pushing her buttons more often.

Biting back a sharp retort, Katara tightened the grip on the sickle of her kusarigama. Even just holding it was awkward; she’d never wielded a weapon before, always reliant on her waterbending. But recalling the experience of her chi being blocked by Ty Lee, Katara grudgingly decided it would probably be useful to know some non-bending fighting techniques just in case. And she refused to give Azula the satisfaction of an apparent show of her discomfort.

Stepping forward, Katara took a firm stance and began swinging the weighted chain in circles, getting the feel of it. Then, with a quick lash, she whipped it forward towards Azula, who dodged with ease.

“Not bad—for a beginner,” Azula said, mockery practically dripping from her lips. “Try to actually hit something, will you?”

With the speed of a pygmy puma, Azula sprang straight at her. Barely having time to react, Katara got out of the way in the nick of time to avoid Azula’s naginata crashing down where she’d just been. Realizing how close she had been to having her cranium split in half, Katara’s eyes widened at the cracked dent left in the ground. She didn’t have time to question how strong the blade was or the sheer force Azula swung it at her because another barrage of attacks came her way. Jumping back to get more distance between them, Katara swung her kusarigama and whipped it at Azula again, the chain managing to successfully wrap around the shaft of her naginata this time.

Being yanked forward, Azula only managed to free her weapon at the last second, putting her once again on the offensive. Adrenaline driving into her instincts, Katara just managed to kick the Fire Nation princess in the stomach as a last-minute distraction.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to keep up, peasant!”

Narrowing her eyes, Katara swung her chain again, this time aiming for Azula’s legs. The Fire Nation princess leapt over it effortlessly, her movements playful as she evaded each attack. Despite her frustration, Katara began to notice something: the way the chain moved, and how it responded to her slightest adjustments, wasn’t too different from the water she bent. The weight of the weapon gave it a rhythm, a flow that she could almost feel in her bones. After a couple more swings, Katara almost felt like she could wield it proficiently enough.

Azula’s smirk widened as she saw the shift in Katara’s movements. “Now, you’ve got it. Still can’t catch me though!”

To Katara, this crazy girl before her was almost like a creepy child eager for some twisted form of excitement. Readying her weapon, she was just about to let it fly again until she heard a voice call out, “Princess Katara!”

She turned around to see one of Mai’s maids standing by Yagoda and Jee. The new arrival bowed respectfully, saying, “Her Majesty, Fire Lady Mai, has requested your presence at once.”

Katara’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, Mai could just be summoning her for another health checkup, but with the last few complicated days, Katara knew it could be for a completely different reason. Her legs flying out from under her, without warning, disrupted her thoughts of any other possibilities. Landing on her back, her head getting a smarting knock on the ground, Katara stared up to see Azula looming over with a grin.

Teasingly spinning her naginata in one hand, she said, “Rule number one about engaging in battle: never turn your back on your opponent. Hard to believe you actually beat me five years ago if you don’t know that simple rule.”

Picking herself up, Katara gave Azula one last scowl, thrusting the kusarigama into her other hand. Unfazed, Azula blew a strand of hair from her face, pretending to pout.

“But seeing as you must once again obey Mai’s beck and call, it looks like I shall just have to kick your ass another time, peasant.” She sauntered away with a flustered Yagoda and Jee, most likely headed down to the cellars in search of more fire whiskey.

Still slightly fuming as she walked to Mai’s chambers, Katara had to take a few deep calming breaths before going in. For whatever reason that Mai wanted her, the last thing the Fire Lady needed to see was her face looking like a hot chilli pepper. Entering Mai’s bedchamber, she was met with the sight of her patient upright in bed, looking as composed as ever. But her eyes were sharp and her posture rigid—no trace of the aloof, indifferent façade that Katara was used to seeing.

This was a bad start.

“Mai, are you in pain again? Did you need—”

“Katara.” Just saying her name, Mai’s voice betrayed a coldness that immediately set the waterbender on edge. “I’m sure you’re already aware that some alarming allegations are going around the court, if not the entire city and the rest of the world. Ones concerning you and my husband that have been circulating since that girl appeared.”

Katara’s stomach twisted, her heart sinking into her gut. The mention of Zuko, coupled with the insinuation of a scandal, made her feel like she might choke on the air. Allegations? Her mind raced, but she couldn’t bring herself to even speak an answer in defence.

“Mai…”

She wasn’t allowed to continue. Her eyes narrowing slightly, Mai said in a voice so calm it was chilling, “My father, in particular, is very disturbed by it. It’s all he talks about every time he sees me now, just to make sure it is ingrained in my head. Can you guess what he says?”

Katara felt the pit in her stomach open wider. “No.”

Mai’s expression became even more deadpan. “Lying doesn’t suit you, Katara.”

Her blood running cold, the implications of Mai’s words hit Katara with a sickening realization. She finally found the strength to open her mouth to protest, but a raised hand from Mai still held the power to stop her.

“I already know. You aren’t that stupid or vain to go flaunting in public, trying to rub it in. Neither is Zuko a person who’d show me such disrespect so openly. His obsession with honour wouldn’t allow that.”

Unable to piece together her thoughts, Katara had no idea where this conversation was heading. If Mai didn’t believe the assumptions that she and Zuko were behaving inappropriately, then what exactly was she implying?

“Then why—”

“Unfortunately, others do not think so. No matter how much you and Zuko may deny it, last night’s spectacle will be seen by all as a statement. Word is already spreading like wildfire, thanks to my father.”

The fear that gripped Katara’s heart tightened. They had been spotted. And despite the dragon mask Zuko had worn, somebody must have guessed who her companion was. Yet, what had happened last night that could be misconstrued in such a way? Her mind then turned to when she and Zuko spent time together at the festival. How they were dancing at the shrine. But it hadn’t been anything improper! They were just spending quality time as friends—with Izumi. But evidently in the eyes of others, Izumi’s presence counted for nothing. To skeptics, she and Zuko had pretty much snuck away to be alone together.

“The Hundred Year War may be over, but the aftermath certainly is not. With this cursed Cold War hanging over us and the possibility of another breaking out…from this moment onwards, people from every nation will always attempt to pit you and me against each other. No reassurances, either you or Zuko may say, will be enough to quell the whispers of those starting to take sides—yours or mine.”

“You wouldn’t seek to destroy me, Mai.”

Flickering with something between bitterness and sorrow, the Fire Lady’s eyes locked with hers. “You don’t know that.”

Katara felt her throat tighten. She understood the dynamics at play, how political intrigue could ripple through the smallest gestures, how a single misstep could be blown out of proportion. But still, none of this was her intention!

“The world may want us at odds, Mai,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “But we’re friends.”

Mai’s lips pressed thinly together. Yes, Katara was her friend, but even that couldn’t prevent the slightest resentment Mai felt towards her. After all, everything would be perfect if it weren’t for Katara. Even before that Izumi girl appeared, it was Katara who acted as a barrier to the mutual trust and tenderness she and Zuko had. Something, some instinct, had bade Mai hide the passion she wanted to show him. Free from her parents’ clutches after her marriage to Zuko, she no longer had to hold back the eternal devotion she felt for him. Agni, she loved him so much! So, so much; he’d never realize the full degree of her affection. For though she opened up more than she would’ve five years ago, she still restrained part of herself.

The reason?

Katara.

Plain and simple.

Mai couldn’t say when she had accepted the fact. She wondered sometimes, with a wry, painful smile to her lips, how it was that Zuko could think she wasn’t aware. She had known from the first minute—during the days Katara was still healing the wound on Zuko’s chest—the way he had looked at the waterbender.

How his eyes couldn’t look away from Katara and Aang kissing at the Jasmine Dragon.

Every interaction between her husband and Katara.

The letters Zuko ardently kept waiting for, and which Mai knew he kept locked safely away.

Mai could read Zuko’s face, his eyes distracted, just what his memories were, what he was thinking of. It was difficult, she thought dispassionately, to assess the suffering she had gone through. Enduring, day after day, of Katara being her personal nurse and acting as though everything were fine between them. Only her own pride, her own courage, carried her forward.

Over time, she had lost weight, grown thinner and paler, her bones showing more prominently. Her health took a turn for the worse, and her multiple miscarriages did her weakened body no favours. Under the care of Katara, her maids, and the palace physician, she had forced herself to eat, to rest.

Yet, she couldn’t sleep. She lay long nights, with dry eyes, staring into the darkness as Zuko blissfully slumbered next to her, unaware of her torment. She scorned the idea of taking drugs and medicines as a weakness. She would hang on. To show herself hurt, to plead, to protest—all those things were abhorrent to her.

“And you and Zuko?” Mai whispered.

“W-What?”

“Can you look me in the eye and say the same with no hesitation? That you’re just friends? Can you swear it upon the spirits? On your late mother’s soul?”

Katara’s breath hitched.

Her interactions with Zuko. Every letter they sent. Every glance they stole. Their time at the Water Lantern Festival, and the dance they shared. The spar they just did earlier this morning. And that confusing dream.

Like a violent wind, these and many others flew through Katara’s mind as a cold sweat prickled her skin. Whatever prompt word of honour she wanted to give Mai couldn’t form in her mouth. Something like chains wrapped around any answer she could say, preventing them from being said aloud.

Why?

Why couldn’t she just deny the accusations?

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t form words. Since she started living here, she’d always thought she and Mai had an unspoken understanding, that they both understood the dangers of being in the inner circle of the court, of being so close to Zuko. She’d never thought she’d have to prove her loyalty—not in this way, not to Mai.

When she didn’t immediately answer, Mai’s eyes hardened, her expression turning even more implacable. “Don’t give me reason to start believing what I don’t want to, Katara.”

The words feeling like a slap in her face, Katara finally found her voice. “Mai, whatever vile rumours there are about me and Zuko, you can’t possibly give credence to them!” It was a poor defence, and she knew it wasn’t even close to erasing the doubts Mai had.

“Can I not? One thing you learn about living in the palace is that there are eyes and ears everywhere. How am I to know that servants or others haven’t actually spotted you two alone together?”

“Yes, we have been by ourselves, but not for the reasons people think! Mai, do you really believe I would compromise my relationship with Aang or yours with Zuko?”

Mai frowned. Only a meagre crumb of comfort reassured the Fire Lady—Zuko didn’t wish to leave her. Sure, the risk of angering her family and the other nobles, along with concern for their baby, factored in as reasons. But the fact still remained. Zuko never expressed the desire to separate from her for another woman. The thought didn’t even cross his mind. She remembered how he got into an explosive fight with his council when they suggested he take a concubine, out of concern she’d never conceive a healthy heir.

And she knew that Zuko’s old infatuation with Katara had passed…at least, she believed it did.

It was a weak excuse that Mai kept telling herself.

What could he see in Katara after all? She was without a doubt attractive, possessing a beauty so enchantingly different from that of typical Fire Nation women. Even the stuffiest of men here found her exotic. She had wit, sheer raw power in her bending and political astuteness, and above all, a passionate nature, rather feisty. The one thing she, “dull Fire Lady Mai” as she knew some called her, would never have.

Mai desperately clung to the belief that Zuko's past crush on Katara had eventually tired of it. That his and Katara’s personalities ran too hot to work together. Yet, somehow, they still worked. Sure, Mai had seen them have the occasional spat. But those ended as quickly as they started—they never stayed angry at each other for long—and the two of them always forgave each other in the end. And wasn’t the true beauty in their relationship growing stronger with each trial they’d overcome?

Witnessing all that, Mai couldn’t help wondering…if Aang and Katara didn’t start dating, and if she and Zuko weren’t married…would Zuko have pursued Katara from the very beginning?

More than once, she had questioned this. But despite all that, she never once considered leaving Zuko. She was his, body and soul, to take or to discard. He was her life, her existence. Love for him burned in her with a primitive force.

She still had hope. Zuko still wanted her, enjoyed her company, and relied on her judgement. His heart may have an occasional weakness like any other man…but he was still her faithful husband. 

Mai sighed, a heavy, conceding sound that Katara hadn’t expected. “No,” she eventually said. “In my heart, I know you and Zuko would never do such a thing—but not everyone sees it that way.”

Kneeling by Mai’s bedside, Katara reached out with her trembling hands to grasp Mai’s own. “I promise you, Mai, nothing inappropriate ever happened between me and Zuko.”

Both young women trying to process their emotions, neither spoke as Mai extracted her hands from Katara’s hold. Her only acknowledgement was a stiff nod. A knot still lingering in her throat, Katara tried to clear it by swallowing. She desperately tried searching Mai’s vacant face for any sign of what to do next.

“Do you need anything else? Are you still in discomfort?”

“No, I think I will just lie back down. But if you could send my maid to get some tea, that would be much appreciated.”

Her formality was like a line drawn, a wall put up between them. Katara nodded, aching at the growing distance between them. As she turned to leave, she heard Mai’s voice, quieter now with something close to regret but still firm.

“Katara…I did not say all this to hurt you, but to warn you. There are others out there less understanding than me. I hope you realize that.”

Not even aware of the nod she gave before leaving, Katara moved with zombie-like steps, not fully comprehending what had just happened. There were no easy answers, only the uncertainty of the web they were all caught in—Zuko, Mai, herself, and she may as well include Aang in there.

The encounter with Mai had left her shaken—every word, every glance, every veiled warning. She knew that, despite her assurances, Mai still harboured doubts. Maybe even hostility. The weight of the allegations pressed on her chest like a heavy stone. It wasn’t just the potential damage to her friendship with Mai that gnawed at her—it was the broader implications. The court was a place where whispers could spark wildfires, and her closeness with Zuko, no matter how innocent, was apparently enough kindling to stoke a blaze. Had their simple moments of camaraderie in the past truly been misinterpreted so wildly?

‘This is about politics on a worldwide scale,’ she reminded herself. ‘It’s not about what’s true; it’s about perception.’

But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to bear. If it wasn’t already before Izumi’s arrival, the world was certainly watching now. Katara had never thought her friendship with Zuko would need defending, least of all to Mai.

A pang of sorrow plagued her. Something had shifted between her and Mai, and she wasn’t sure if it could ever be the same again.

Sitting at his desk, Zuko stared blankly at the piles of paperwork strewn across its surface. Though he intended to finish going over them hours ago, his focus had been nowhere near the documents. Instead, every thought of his seemed to be engrossed by Katara and their earlier sparring session. The way she moved like a mesmerizing water nymph, her skill both fluid and precise, played in his mind like a vivid memory he couldn’t shake.

And then there was that moment—when their match ended in a tie. Standing so close, their faces flushed with exertion. He couldn’t forget the way her blue eyes caught the light, how her breath hitched as they stared at each other.

“Gaah!” Zuko cried, rubbing his palms across his face.

Behind the door came a series of sharp raps.

“I’m fine!” Zuko hollered.

But the voice that answered back wasn’t that of one of the Kyoshi Warriors standing guard outside. It was Ming’s.

“Your Majesty?”

“Come in,” Zuko called.

Right after the general entered, Zuko could tell something was very wrong just by looking at her face. He stared at the scroll she had in her hand…was that blood on it?

Bowing briefly, Ming said, “Your Majesty, I have urgent news. Tatsunori has been found dead in his cell.”

“What?!”

“From the looks of it, he appears to have been poisoned—we’re guessing by the tea that was delivered with his meal. This scroll was left by his body.”

She handed Zuko the rolled-up piece of parchment, his bewilderment becoming paranoia once his eyes zeroed in on the familiar crest it was sealed with. He had only seen that gold phoenix sigil once, but just that single time was enough to become firmly ingrained forever in his darkest memories. It seemed he needed to pay his monster of a father a visit in prison.

The realization that he’d have to confront Ozai made him want to hurl. Zuko had only ever visited him once to demand his mother’s whereabouts after the end of the war. But after Ozai refused to say anything aside from several stinging taunts, Zuko was all too happy to forget he even had a father rotting in jail and hadn’t interacted with him since.

“Thank you, General Ming,” Zuko said in a clipped voice. “I’ll handle this.”

Ming bowed her head with failure, preparing herself for possible repercussions for what she was about to say next. “I should add, sir, that the rest of Tatsunori’s family has met the same end despite the added security.”

Zuko, who had been rising out of his chair, shakily sat back down, thunderstruck. Tatsunori’s wife and small children only came to court once, and they didn’t really make an impression on him other than the former being just as snooty as her husband and the latter being cute but spoiled. Zuko couldn’t say that he’d miss Tatsunori or his family. However, he did feel overwhelming guilt. Even with all the extra measures he had taken, he still got bested by Tatsunori’s blackmailers. And Tatsunori and his family paid the price with their lives.

“Is there any other information I should be aware of?” Zuko asked.

“No, Your Majesty. That is all we have for now, but my soldiers are still carrying on their investigation into the matter. If I may ask, in terms of the bodies…” Ming’s uncertain voice trailed off.

“They shall receive proper burial. As far as I know, Tatsunori and his family had no other kin. Get Grand Secretary Kenzo to deal with it,” Zuko ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Right away, sir.”

Right after Ming left, Zuko looked once more at the scroll. He didn’t break the seal yet, deciding he should first show it to his Uncle Iroh. Surely, his sage wisdom would be invaluable in understanding its implications. It would be best if they deciphered the message together.

Going in search of his uncle, the urgency of his task momentarily made him forget all the lingering thoughts he’d been having about Katara. But as fate would have it, when he rounded a corner, who should he nearly collide with but the very girl consuming his mind?

“Katara!” he exclaimed. “Have you seen—”

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she interrupted.

Zuko froze, the tightness in her voice making him realize something was wrong. The way she hid her face with her hair and her hurried pace as she tried to sidestep him were very clear signs to him of desperation. He reached out and gently grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Katara, are you okay?”

She still wasn’t looking at him and yanked her arm away, more forcibly than she intended to. Zuko felt like he had been punched in the gut. His hand still lingered half-extended in the air as if to reach her.

“I’m fine,” Katara insisted.

“You’re not fine,” Zuko said. “What’s going on? If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

Katara continued to stare down the empty corridor, knowing that if she made eye contact with him, her resolve would crumble. She hugged herself as if to shield herself from danger.

From him.

Every instinct and urge within her wanted to reveal all and seek his comfort. But even here, with no one around them, she could feel eyes piercing through the walls. The eyes of Mai, Aang, Ukano, everyone…staring at her and Zuko. Katara stepped back as if putting physical distance between them could sever the emotional connection they always had.

But she knew Zuko. She knew he saw right through her. And his heart cared too much to leave her in such a state of distress.

“Please, Zuko, just stay away.”

She immediately hated herself for how snappish she sounded. How could she do this? Was this really the only way to keep him at a distance? By hurting him? She hoped he hadn’t heard the tremble in her voice.

His chest tightening, Zuko reeled back at Katara’s sudden hostility. Just what had happened? What had he done wrong to make her push him away? He tried racking his brains for any instance where he may have overstepped a line or angered her. His heart pounded with sudden fear.

Could it be that she had somehow guessed his inner forbidden thoughts regarding her?

Zuko barely had time to process this sudden gaping rift between them when he heard the echoes of frantic footsteps approaching. He turned to see Ty Lee running over, her Kyoshi Warrior makeup smudged and running down her cheeks from her tears.

“Ty Lee? What is it? Where’s Izumi?”

Clutching at the stitch in her side, Ty Lee struggled to catch her breath. The first time she spoke, she was crying and panting so much that all Zuko and Katara heard were garbles. But eventually, she managed to wheeze, “She’s gone! I don’t know where she is!”

Zuko’s blood ran cold. “Gone? What happened?”

Her words spilled out in a torrent, Ty Lee said, “We were at the Western Market. Izumi said she wanted to go outside and explore. But one moment, she was right beside me, and the next—she wasn’t! I looked everywhere, Zuko, I swear, but I couldn’t find her. I came back here praying that maybe she found her own way back, but…but…” She burst into another wave of tears, wiping at her eyes and just ruining her makeup even more.

“How long ago?” Katara asked.

Ty Lee hiccupped a sob. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes? I came here as fast as I could.”

His heart pounding with renewed fear, Zuko bit his lip. At once, he feared the worst. A man who suffered so many losses at such a young age, he had grown too used to misfortune and afflictions. And what with the crime Tatsunori was involved in, his and his family’s murders, and the possibility of Ozai being involved…Zuko didn’t feel any more reassured. Even if Izumi’s disappearance wasn’t connected with any of that, that didn’t mean the streets of Caldera were totally safe for a little girl to wander through all by herself.

Without Ty Lee, what must Izumi be feeling? She was just a little girl, lost and alone in an unfamiliar city and stuck in a timeline not even her own.

Noticing how pale Zuko was, Katara placed her hand on his shoulder before she remembered she was supposed to have nothing more to do with him. But concern for him and fear for Izumi had destroyed her already weak barriers, making her forget. She couldn’t take it back because Zuko was now staring at her with wide eyes tinged with hope.

“We’ll find her,” Katara said. She removed her hand and looked at Ty Lee as if addressing her. “Maybe she’s staying put somewhere to avoid getting more lost. Or maybe a shop owner has found her. Whatever happened, we should send out search parties at once.”

Her words must’ve registered with Zuko because he gave a nod. How was it that, as Fire Lord, his mind was skilled in making quick decisions concerning state affairs, yet was reduced to that of a panicking mother possum hen at the disappearance of a kid? He was grateful that at least Katara was able to keep a level head. All other matters—his visit to Ozai, the unexplained tension between him and Katara—would have to wait.

“Ty Lee, go find Toph,” he ordered. “She can use her seismic sense to help track Izumi. And get the Kyoshi Warriors to help with the search efforts.”

Ty Lee nodded, wiping at her face before running off.

“Katara,” Zuko said, turning to her, “I need you to come with me. If Izumi’s hurt—if she’s in trouble—your healing could save her.”

Katara didn’t hesitate, her earlier emotions set aside. Whatever personal turmoil she had, she knew there was no room for it right now. “Of course. Let’s go.”

“I’ll get Druk and search from above. You head to the Western Market and start asking around. Someone must’ve seen something.”

Izumi squirmed against the rough rope binding her wrists, the distant sounds of the bustling market stifled by the bag over her head. She wished they hadn’t shoved it on her; it reeked of rotten potatoes. There was a small tear through the burlap sack which she could peep through but still she was unable to get a full awareness of her bearings. Where was she being taken? She tried not to hyperventilate. She didn’t need her senses assaulted more than they already were by the smelly bag. Ugh, she didn’t think she’d be able to eat another potato if she ever got out of this. The gag in her mouth muffled her cries, but Izumi knew better than to panic. Her Auntie Ty Lee always told her a clear and focused mind could make a big difference even in the most difficult of situations. It was why, out of all the principles they valued, she had made the Kyoshi Warriors focus on discipline.

Feeling the grip on her tied-up arms yanking her harder, Izumi tried not to whimper in pain. How could she have let herself get caught like this? One second, she had been admiring a stall of colourful pinwheels with Ty Lee. The next, a pair of strong hands had yanked her into an alley when her guardian’s back was turned. She didn’t even have time to scream before the gag was shoved into her mouth and her head covered.

“Keep her quiet,” a gruff voice growled.

“We’ll be getting a pretty coin for this one, eh?” another man said, his voice full of malicious glee. “Little pet squatting in the palace—worth an arm and a leg in ransom, if you tell me, or maybe even more.”

“And don’t forget that fortunetelling stunt of hers that has them all talking,” the first man said. “Freaks like this brat here? Someone will pay through the nose for her.”

Izumi’s already sick stomach twisted at their words, but she forced herself to remain calm. As the men argued in low voices about their next move, she worked her fingers behind her back. Her pocket had a reassuring bulge of candies she’d bought at the market. All wrapped individually in bright pink paper—perfect for leaving a trail.

She winced as the coarse rope scraped her bruised wrists, but she managed to snag the first candy and drop it to the ground. Then another. And another. She just prayed that her kidnappers wouldn’t notice, and that Ty Lee or anyone searching for her would.

“Stop squirming, kid!”

Izumi didn’t. With a swift, calculated move she once saw her auntie do, she kicked backward, her foot succeeding in making impact. She intended to just strike the shin of one of her captors, but judging by how loud his howl was, she must’ve aimed too high.

“Fucking little shit!” he cursed, tugging Izumi so sharply she nearly fell.

Cackling at his comrade’s pain, one of the men said, “This rugrat’s a feisty one, mate. Maybe we oughta tie her feet too!”

Letting out a muffled yell, Izumi violently twisted this way and that, using every ounce of strength she had to make herself a nuisance. She stomped on their feet, threw her weight around, anything to make their job difficult. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to annoy them, and annoyance meant distraction. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“That’s it! You wanna do this the hard way, then we’ll do it!”

Her legs being whisked from under her, the flared determination Izumi had was hurtled momentarily with all the blood suddenly rushing to her head. As if she were like the potato sack over her head, she found herself slung over a shoulder and jostled along for the ride. Ugh, if she managed not to vomit before, she was certainly about to now.

Holding in her breakfast as best as she could, she continued to discreetly drop the candies, one by one…

Her senses on high alert, Katara scanned the crowded streets. She stood on tippytoe every so often to try and see above all the heads, even though it was pointless, Izumi being way shorter than many of them. Her eyes darted to every shadowy corner, every possible hiding spot, stopping occasionally to ask a vendor or customer if they’d seen any girl of Izumi’s description.

Up above, Druk’s powerful wings cut through the air, each beat creating gusts that rattled the rickety stalls. His majestic form cast an imposing shadow over the marketplace as Zuko steered him to circle around, scanning below for any sign of Izumi. As Druk’s mighty roar echoed, panic rippled through the crowd. Foreign visitors to the city screamed and scattered, unaccustomed to the sight of a dragon in flight. Merchants hastily pulled down their stalls, and children clung to their parents, pointing at the massive beast overhead. Even the Fire Nation citizens, though more familiar with Druk, decided it was wise not to remain too close to where he was hovering above.

Katara ignored the chaos, noticing something glinting in an inconspicuous alleyway. Going over, she bent down and picked it up. A pink candy. She recalled Izumi eating some at one point during the festival last night. A few feet away was another, and a bit further was another. But all were a fair distance apart. Not too close to each other to attract attention from any unwanted eyes. Katara’s heart leapt as hope struck.

‘Smart girl,’ she thought.

Without hesitation, she followed the trail, weaving through the narrow side streets. Zuko, noticing Katara’s purposeful run, knew it only meant one thing. He steadily guided Druk to follow, narrowing his eyes to try and focus on what was happening below. He saw Katara catch up with a group of people—he estimated there were about ten of them—who seemed to be lugging something with them. Something which moved. At once, Zuko pulled Druk to a steep descent in an area large enough, the dragon landing with a thunderous roar next to Katara.

The impact threw the startled kidnappers off their feet. “What the fuck—”

“All of you, stay where you are!” Katara ordered, popping open her waterskins.

It was not so much the unwanted appearance of Katara and Zuko that made the kidnappers freeze, but the large dragon’s eyes locking onto them. One of the men, who Katara assumed was their leader, swore under his breath before barking at the others to fan out in a defensive formation. Panic was etched into their features as they tried to obey orders, Druk’s deafening roar making them stumble back from the gust.

“Let her go!” His voice like steel, Zuko jumped from his winged mount’s back, flames flickering to life in his hands as he took a ready stance.

“Maybe if you have some coin in your pockets, we just might,” the leader of the gang crooned. “Say a hundred billion gold pieces.”

Zuko’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. “You’re fucking crazy!” he yelled, not even bothering to mind the language expected of a royal. Not even the Crown had a net worth of that amount!

“It’s not that difficult, Your Majesty. All the country must do is for every citizen to contribute at least ten gold pieces each. Simple math, if you ask me.”

“And for those who are barely scraping by to get a few copper coins?” Katara demanded. “This is an unnegotiable matter. Let Izumi go! We won’t ask again.”

The leader shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to find a buyer more willing to pay up then—gah!”

A lash of stinging pain struck across his temple as a powerful arc of water whipped from one of Katara’s waterskins, knocking him out cold. Following her lead, Zuko hurled a torrent of flames at several more of the men, making sure none of his attacks were near enough to hurt Izumi. Launching a barrage of fireballs of their own, the kidnappers regrouped and countered, the hiss of steam filling the air as their attacks were deflected by Katara’s ice shield. Whatever brazen courage or plain stupidity they had in thinking they stood a chance was gone once Druk joined the fray.

“Look out!”

The dragon unleashed a plume of fire, igniting three of the foes entirely at once, the smell of cooking flesh defiling the air. A chorus of agonized screams was wrenched from their throats as they vainly used the remaining seconds of their lives trying to bat the flames with their blazing arms. It was one of the most horrific sounds Katara had ever heard. She couldn’t help thinking Zuko probably wailed just the same when his father burned him.

Amid the chaos, through the tear of the bag on her head, Izumi’s left eye was fixed on the dragon. Even just catching a small glimpse of Druk turned her fear into a flicker of wonder. She had heard stories of dragons, but seeing one in action was something else. Her sight then turned to the twitching blackened bodies on the ground that fell victim to his fiery breath. It should have repulsed her, made her knees knock together. Yet, the gruesome scene made her mouth pull into something almost like one of Azula’s satisfied smiles.

It only lasted a second once Izumi blinked, disturbed by her unnatural, macabre glee. That was…dark. She tried to dismiss it, but something about the sinister pleasure she had struck an uneasy chord deep within her.

“Enough!” Zuko thundered. “You’re all done. Surrender at once.”

The heat all around them was intense, and most of the remaining kidnappers faltered in sheer raw fear of being roasted themselves. As a final warning, Druk let out one last roar, which was enough for them to get the message, falling on their knees, their heads bowed to the ground.

Only the burly man, who was carrying Izumi, tried to retreat. But his sneaky attempt was no match for Katara’s sharp senses. Immediately, she launched herself forward into the air with an ice slope, landing herself right in front to block his path. Before he even realized it, she froze his feet to the ground.

“You’re not going anywhere with her,” Katara said.

Struggling to keep his balance, the man let out a yell as he crashed to the ground, Izumi dropping from his grasp. The girl cried out softly, her vision blurring as pain radiated through her skull.

The scratchy brown sack covering her vision seemed to fade away, replaced by an overwhelming brightness. Instead of the odour of rotten potatoes, her nostrils were conscious of a strong fresh breeze with a drifting hint of faraway woodlands. Blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes to the light, Izumi found herself not in the alleyway but in an empty expanse of ruins. The architecture was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Probably it had once been a large bustling city, but there were no signs of life now save for the vines and moss overgrowing the once grand walls and columns, crumbling with age.

Was she having another vision?

“Izumi.”

Startled at the voice behind her, Izumi turned to see a man in regal Fire Nation robes. His white hair and beard flowed like a river of silver. She recognized him immediately, having seen his portrait in so many scrolls.

“Avatar Roku!”

The man nodded solemnly before giving an amused smile. “You have certainly caused quite a stir, child, ever since you’ve left home.”

“This is another vision, right? Why do I keep having them? What do they mean? Do they give hints on how to stop the war that’s supposed to happen?”

Questions just kept spilling out of Izumi’s mouth. She didn’t know when she’d get another opportunity for answers. And Avatar Roku seemed to be a sure bet in clarifying the mystery at least somewhat. Surely, he could tell her what to do!

“Your visions are both a gift and a warning, Izumi. The spirits show you glimpses of what is to come, but they do not dictate your choices. They are guides, no guarantees.”

Izumi’s frustration boiled over. “Guides to what?”

Roku didn’t respond immediately, only holding out his hand for Izumi to take. “Follow me, child.”

He led her through the ruined city up to an old temple. In the centre of the courtyard appeared to be a large celestial calendar. Bathed in a harsh red light atop a large column was an alizarin sunstone, glowing with an unnatural blood-red hue. Izumi’s eyes were fixed upon it, wondering about whether its purpose was merely decorative or symbolic, when a roar from above caught her attention.

Looking up, she saw Fire Lord Zuko astride Druk, soaring through the skies. Beside him flew another dragon with blue scales, another familiar figure astride upon its saddle. Clad in black and crimson riding gear, her hair in a long braid, and holding her trusty naginata—Princess Azula. The sight of the two siblings together, their expressions grim and determined, sent a shiver of adrenaline down Izumi’s spine. Yes, she had already witnessed Zuko and Azula in action before, but never upon their dragons together like in the famous recorded battles!

But then, a third dragon, its body as golden as the sun, flew next to them, its rider obscured in shadow due to the direction of the sun. From her tall, slender silhouette and long, flowing black hair, Izumi could tell it was a woman. She couldn’t see the woman’s face, but from the glistening crown in her topknot and the undeniable strength about her, Izumi knew she must be a great lady.

“She is the key,” Roku said, “to stopping what must be stopped. She will be the one to stand against the Bloodbending Queen when the time comes. But be warned—this will not end the conflict, only delay it. The true resolution lies elsewhere, in paths yet unseen. Her name is—”

“Izumi!” a distant voice called.

“No!” Izumi cried, realizing what was happening, the vision already dissolving. “No, I haven’t got her name yet!”

But it was too late. In the blink of an eye, she found herself back in the alley, her head pounding and her hands, now untied, trembling uncontrollably. She was thankful that the smelly burlap sack had been removed from her head. Above her, Druk loomed, his golden eyes filled with concern. Zuko and Katara were kneeling next to her, their expressions a mix of relief and worry. Off to the side, Izumi could see that her kidnappers were encased in solid rock and being apprehended by a group of Kyoshi Warriors and a very smug Toph.

“Are you alright, Izumi?” Katara asked.

“Ugh!” Izumi let out an annoyed groan.

Taking it as a sound of discomfort, Katara placed her glowing hands upon the girl’s temple to check for signs of concussion. Thankfully, there were none as far as she could tell. Just some slight bruising. Izumi let out an alleviated sigh at the cooling sensation.

“It’s alright, Izumi, you’re safe now,” Katara said softly.

Every atom in Izumi was frantic to let them know about what she had just seen, but she couldn’t find the strength to do so. Having visions, as far as what she learned from experience, took quite a toll on her body. And her frustration at not learning the woman’s name didn’t make her splitting migraine feel less like a pounding hammer.

Her vision looking as if a bunch of clouds were floating in front of her, Izumi’s eyes fluttered sporadically as Katara gently brushed the hair away from her face. On her other side was Zuko, steadying her with firm hands. Being held in their arms made Izumi feel so sad for some reason. There was just something so different about their protective embrace compared to whenever her Auntie Ty Lee held her. Although her aunt’s arms weren’t any less full of love, Zuko’s and Katara’s gave Izumi an unexplainable…completeness. She clutched at them both, her small hands gripping the Fire Lord’s robes and the waterbender’s sleeve with surprising strength.

Izumi let out a shaky breath, the tension in her body slowly giving way as she leaned into their embrace. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t make a sound, her emotions spilling out silently.

Katara wrapped an arm around Izumi, her hand lightly rubbing the girl’s back. “We’ve got you,” she said softly, glancing at Zuko. “She’s okay. She’s just shaken up.”

Zuko nodded, though the furrow in his brow didn’t ease. His golden eyes swept over Izumi’s face, fretfulness still making him search for any sign of a serious injury. But if Katara said she was okay, then he’d trust her word. Between the two of them, she was the one with healing hands after all. Other than wrapping a cut finger with a bandage or taking medicine for a cold, he didn’t have much in the way of medical knowledge.

“You’re safe now,” he repeated, as much to reassure himself as to comfort Izumi. He lifted her up with ease, letting her latch her arms around his neck. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

Home...

The word made something close to a contented smile form on Izumi's face.

But as the adrenaline of the rescue wore off, her body began to sag against them. Her eyelids drooped, and she mumbled something neither of them could catch.

“Izumi?” Katara asked, concern rising in her voice.

Zuko’s heart clenched as the girl’s breathing slowed into a soft, steady rhythm. Izumi’s grip loosened, her head lolled against the Fire Lord’s shoulder, as everything went black.

Chapter Text

Excerpt from Warden Kume’s register book:

Date: Year of the Ox (105 AG) Month of Mei Yue, Day of Yi Wei:

Prisoner 98 (Naohisa) visited by his wife, Rei.

Prisoner 412 (Chao) moved from Cell 46, Level 1 to Cell 98, Level 2 due to disruptive behaviour.

Prisoner 371 (Tatsunori) found dead by poisoning in his cell. Suspect currently unknown.

Prisoner 444 (Ozai) visited by Fire Lord Zuko.

A vague pain in her head was what sharply pulled Izumi toward consciousness. The next thing she could register was how uncomfortably hot she was. She could feel warm duvets cocooned around her and hear the crackling of a warm fire. Well, that accounted for how much she was sweating buckets. Or could it be possible that she came down with a fever? The ache in her temples was soothed by a cooling sensation. Probably just her Auntie Ty Lee placing an ice pack on her.

But when Izumi weakly flickered her eyes open, she saw it was not her aunt beside her but Katara. What she mistook for an ice pack was the waterbender’s glowing hands in the process of healing her bruised head. She wasn’t home on Kyoshi Island, but back in her room at the Fire Nation Royal Palace. The skin of her wrists, which the ropes had worn raw, looked brand-new, not a scar to be seen. No doubt the work of Katara’s expert healing. At the foot of her bed were Ty Lee and Zuko, their anxious faces lighting up at seeing her awake.

Ignorant of Katara’s warning, Ty Lee raced forward and swept Izumi into her arms. “Izumi! You scared me half to death! Thank goodness you’re alright. How are you feeling? Do you need a drink?”

Before any further questions could tumble from Ty Lee’s mouth, Katara reached over to place a palm on the Kyoshi Warrior’s shoulder. “What Izumi really needs right now is rest. Don’t worry, Ty Lee. She’ll be fine.”

Leaning back on her pillows, Izumi groggily asked, “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” Katara replied.

She raised a glass of water to Izumi’s lips, and she drank thirstily. Just this simple action was enough to make her dizzy.

Perhaps it was the sense of security she felt now that made Izumi realize how very close to real danger she had been. The events from earlier would stay forever in her head, the most predominant sensation being that smelly old sack, of course. She could still feel the ropes rubbing against the ripped skin of her bleeding wrists. But probably the scene that stuck like glue in the darkest recesses of her mind was Druk making the criminals burn an agonizing death. She just couldn’t shake off that frightening relish she felt. Even now, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel sorry for them. Of course, having nearly been taken to be sold like cattle by them, who in their right mind would?

But to take pleasure in their deaths?

“My vision!” Izumi just remembered, sitting up straight.

“You had another one?” Ty Lee asked.

Hastily, Izumi tried explaining herself, but the exertion of the day was catching up with her. Before she knew it, she kept ever so slowly blacking out in between sentences until Katara eventually said, “Don’t force yourself, Izumi. We can always talk about this tomorrow.”

Well, it was clear her body wasn’t giving her a choice. She weakly motioned for Katara and Zuko to get closer before pulling them into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around them both.

“I never got to thank you both,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Being the more reserved of the two, it was rather surprising that Zuko didn’t hesitate to return the hug while Katara was taken aback. To Zuko, embracing Izumi felt so natural…but Katara’s arms were frozen by her sides as if not knowing what to do. It was unexplainable as to why. She had hugged plenty of children Izumi’s age and loved the feeling of their warm cuddly bodies next to her own. Why should Izumi be any different?

Yet, rather than loving tenderness…Izumi’s hug seemed to overwhelm her with unbearable grief.

And being so close to Zuko…

Katara’s eyes drifted to the Fire Lord, who was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath. He looked so utterly content, his eyes closed with a small smile. Despite needing to put distance between them, Katara could not find it in herself to disturb this moment of peace for him.

After an awkward few seconds, Katara managed to seize control of her arms and made them stiffly return the hug, patting Izumi’s back. “Get some sleep now, okay?”

“Mm.”

“Keep an eye on her for dizziness or nausea if she awakens,” Katara instructed Ty Lee, who gave a grateful smile.

His golden eyes trained on her, Zuko said, “Thank you, Katara, for your help.”

“Just doing what I can.”

The response was curt and lacking in its usual friendly ease. It did not go noticed by Ty Lee and a groggy Izumi, the latter now fully alert after the strange exchange between the Fire Lord and the Southern Water Tribe princess. Before Zuko could say anything more, Katara stepped back with a polite bow, her posture stiff as a board, before leaving the room.

“What was that?” Ty Lee asked Zuko.

He gave no reply and simply strode after the waterbender. Catching up with her, he called out, simply cutting to the chase, “Was it something I did?”

Katara stopped in her tracks.

“Please, Katara, tell me what’s wrong. It’s utter agony just questioning in my head, not knowing what happened.” Then, with a hard swallow, he added, “We trust each other. You can trust me still…”

Or could it be she no longer did? Zuko didn’t know what was worse. Her unexplainable silent treatment or the possibility of him losing her trust entirely.

As she had her back turned to him, Zuko did not see how wan her face was. Hearing the sadness twisted in his voice, Katara clenched her fists and resisted the urge to comfort him. She knew that if she tried giving a reply, she most likely would start crying. She just couldn’t. So, she said nothing.

“Well,” Zuko said with a sigh, “I’m still always here if you eventually do choose to talk. But if distance is truly what you want…I’ll respect your wishes.”

The moment he finished saying those words, Katara could feel her heart shatter. She still hadn’t turned around, but she could hear every step Zuko took as he walked away from her. Every further step that echoed made her want to chase after him, to apologize, to explain. Another tiny part of her was also hoping that he’d be the one to come back to her, to embrace her from behind, and for everything to return to what it had been. But Zuko’s pace never faltered, and she continued holding her feet firm, trying to drown out those torturous sounds. Fading away, they left nothing but a cold, empty silence slamming into Katara with her new reality.

Had she and Zuko truly just lost what they once had?

“That play was awful.”

“Tell me about it. I did warn you guys though.”

“That you did.”

Taking a smug nab of victory at Katara’s disgruntled acknowledgement, Zuko gave her a cheeky grin before leaning back beside her. The red tiles of the roof, normally blazing hot during the heat of the day, now provided a pleasant warmth to their bodies as they gazed up at the twinkling stars. Zuko fondly remembered the days when he, Lu Ten, and Azula used to sneak up here in the same way. With the therapeutic sounds of the waves, and the roof being a comfortable nighttime resting place, it was no wonder that they often fell asleep here. Fast forward a few years later and he still preferred this as his favourite spot to sleep rather than his bedroom. Although ever since he and his friends started staying at Ember Island, he hadn’t been doing much sleeping as most nights were now taken up by him and Katara chatting on the roof instead.

He still couldn’t believe that in the span of a few weeks, Katara had gone from resenting him to them becoming such close friends. He could remember the beginning of it all, when after confronting Yon Rha, Katara walked away a fair distance. Her knees collapsing into the mud, she had raised her tearful face to the stormy skies letting out the most heart-wrenching wails he had ever heard.

To see her in such lamentation and heaviness…it would have pitied any person’s heart to have looked upon her.

Zuko had simply stood by her in silence, keeping watch and just letting her get it all out. On the return trip, she was like a walking corpse that even the most menial tasks were a trial for her. Zuko patiently helped her through it all—feeding her bites of food, giving her plenty of water, laying her down like a child to sleep. He always did it slowly, as if waiting for her to protest and retaliate with a water whip. But Katara let him do so without a word, as if she barely registered it all.

Until the final night before they reunited with the others. The moment Katara let out a raspy, “I’m sorry, Zuko…”

In those words were the apologies for everything in the past. For never giving him a chance. For treating him like shit. For making him go through all this in an attempt to prove she could trust him. Zuko had said nothing, only giving a nod.

But out of hurt came healing and with it, something even more beautiful…

“Aang kissed me without consent during the intermission.”

“W-What?” Zuko was yanked out of his reflections.

“He was upset about what the actress cast as me said—about seeing him only as a little brother.”

“And that’s why he kissed you?” Zuko incredulously asked.

Katara sat up, pulling at a lock of her hair. “Yes, even after I told him I was confused. He assumed that we would be together just because—I didn’t tell you this before—well, this wasn’t the first time he actually kissed me out of the blue. He did it before our attack on Caldera City during the solar eclipse.”

Zuko frowned. Aang kissing Katara twice without her explicit permission rubbed him the wrong way.

“And not only that, but I also told Aang that we’re in the middle of a war,” Katara continued. “With everything else that’s going on, I just don’t have time to think about romance.”

“Rightfully so.”

“It’s stupid really. I mean, that play wasn’t even close to accurate. Toph was literally portrayed as a big buff guy!”

“Not that she seemed to be complaining,” Zuko muttered under his breath.

Katara let out a snort of her own, before they both fell into silence. Unable to get that play out of their heads, still wincing at the vivid memory of it, they glanced at each other briefly before looking away. Their cheeks were as warm as the roof tiles, both knowing they were thinking about the same thing.

“Zuko, about the actors portraying the two of us…”

Waving it off, Zuko let out a laugh so fake that he immediately cringed. “It’s okay, Katara. Whatever unreliable sources the creators got their inspiration from, it’s clear everything was just intended to make us look as awful as possible for Fire Nation propaganda. That and also, they just took terrible creative liberalities.”

“Y-You’re right,” the waterbender said. Then, with a nervous chuckle of her own, she added, “I-It’s ridiculous. I mean, heh, you and me. W-We’re just good friends, Zuko. We know where we stand.” She didn’t know why she was so reluctant to get those last sentences out.

“Y-Yeah…” Zuko faltered. Why did it feel like she had just stomped all over him?

They continued listening to the crashing waves along the beach, before Katara said, “The ending of that play…you don’t think it could come true, could it?”

Hearing the doubt in her voice sounded alien to Zuko. Katara was normally the one who never gave up hope, who always believed in another way when every door seemed closed. But the failed assault on Caldera City and the play’s foreboding ending hit Katara with the realization of how uncertain victory really was. Optimism and progress could only get one so far.

Zuko sat up, taking Katara’s hands in his own. “Hey, we’ll get through this.”

It wasn’t any different from any other reassurance. But coming from Zuko, Katara couldn’t help feeling that it really would all be okay. She smiled at the firebender, a gesture he didn’t hesitate to return before they leaned back against the roof, their fingers still entwined together.

Envisioning the future already, Zuko said, “The war will end someday. Uncle will be Fire Lord. The world will be at peace.” He turned his head to look over at the girl beside him. “I hope…we still continue to be friends.”

Katara met his golden eyes. “Of course, we’ll still be friends, Zuko! What made you think we wouldn’t?”

“I dunno. I guess…I’m just so used to losing people I care about.”

There was no self-pity in his voice either. He stated it as if he were saying just another fact. Katara bit her lip.

“You’ll never lose me, Zuko. I promise…”

Having watched Zuko grow all the twenty-one years of his life, Iroh was more than an expert at picking up even the smallest subtleties about his nephew. So, when Zuko informed him about Ozai’s possible involvement in the intrigue going on, Iroh sensed there was something else even closer and more personal bothering Zuko’s heart. Any gentle inquiries were met with lies Iroh could see right through. Nevertheless, he didn’t push the matter.

Though he was always willing to be a gentle guide, Iroh knew it was Zuko himself who had to take the first steps if he wanted help.

And right now, the only assistance Zuko was asking for involved Ozai. Examining the scroll’s phoenix sigil before breaking it open, the familiar handwriting was already a damning piece of evidence to them both. Only one sentence had been written: This is just the beginning.

That was all. Just a clear warning. Nothing else that could give them any pointers. Except for the hand that wrote that ominous sentence.

Pausing at the prison’s entry gates, Iroh asked his nephew, “Are you sure you do not wish for me to come with you, Zuko?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Uncle. This is something I must do alone. Please just wait here.” Zuko then turned to the head jailer. “Warden Kume,” he greeted. “I presume you’ve already been informed of my arrival?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I already have an entourage of guards waiting to escort you.”

“Very good.” Giving his uncle one last reassuring nod, Zuko said, “I won’t be long—hopefully.”

There was a musty dankness in the stone corridors, smelling of grime and the odour of urine. Elephant rats scurried away along the squalid floor which, despite being regularly mopped, still got quickly soiled after every cleanup. The rare times he came here, Zuko never wore his long robes, not wanting to soil them. To the Fire Lord, even the slums of the city didn’t compare to this. Hari Bulkan Prison housed the lowest of the low. The cells were arranged according to how dangerous the prisoners were, the lower levels being where petty thieves were held and the higher levels confining murderers and traitors. Moving with purpose, Zuko made his way for the highest floor. Two guards were stationed at the farthest iron gates.

“Open them,” Zuko ordered.

The guards looked at each other, and then at those who had escorted their Fire Lord. “Are you sure, Your Maj—”

Zuko gave a look to the man who’d spoken. He cleared his throat. “Understood, sir.”

Pulling a lever, the series of iron gates slowly rose up one by one leading down to a long hallway. This was it. There was nothing now separating Zuko and the heartless tyrant he once called his father. Looking down into the dark corridor, hesitation finally set in. Though he had rehearsed what he was going to say, Zuko found his tongue like stone. He was starting to regret telling his uncle to wait downstairs. But if Ozai saw them together, no doubt he’d mock Zuko for being afraid and needing a babysitter.

No, Zuko had to show he could stand his own without fear.

“Wait here,” he told the guards, before going down the long hallway.

At the end, behind another set of bars, sat the former Fire Lord Ozai, now stripped of crown, power, and empire. Yet, even in imprisonment, he carried himself like a man who still believed the world owed him its knees. His hair may have been haggard, and his simple worn tunic just like all the other prisoners’, but he sat upright with a calm faint smile. It was like seeing a hungry tigerdillo.

Even before Zuko came into view, when Ozai heard the bars being raised, he knew right away who it was. Despite his lack of a sundial, he had a fairly good idea of when his meals were brought by a guard. And considering how it wasn’t close to any of those hours, there was only one other person it could be.

“Zuko,” he said with a sneer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Zuko said nothing but simply threw the scroll onto the floor between them. Ozai’s smile didn’t falter.

“You come bearing gifts?” Ozai drawled. “If I recall, it was your birthday recently. Had I not been behind bars, I’d have sent you a present of my own—preferably a knife to your throat.”

Zuko clenched his fists. “Former Treasurer Tatsunori is dead. Found poisoned in his cell today. His wife and children—all murdered as well. This scroll was found beside his body.”

With deliberate slowness, Ozai looked down at it, then back up at Zuko. “How tragic,” he said, without any trace of real empathy. “I assume this is the part where I gasp with remorse?”

“I’ve had him arrested for embezzlement. He was stealing from the Crown—but it turns out he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was being blackmailed by an unknown group. They threatened his family unless he handed over them funds from the Royal Treasury. And when he was caught, they cleaned up the mess.”

“And you suspect this group belongs to me?”

“This scroll—it bears the sigil you used as the Phoenix King. You expect me to believe that’s a coincidence? Not to mention, it’s in your handwriting!”

Ozai’s eyes gleamed with amusement, as he shrugged his shoulders. “Somebody who knows me very well must’ve copied it,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer.

But Zuko refused to be fooled by his mocking. “Are you behind this? Or is someone else trying to restore your name?”

“If I were still playing the game,” Ozai responded, “do you think I’d even consider you a competitor?”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Neither is it a confession.”

Zuko’s jaw tensed.

“Really, Zuko, you’re Fire Lord now, however unworthy you are of the title. It is that very way you stain the greatness of the Dragon Throne that makes you the flame people want to smother. And there’s no shortage of hands waiting to douse you. Do you really think I’m the only enemy you must deal with?”

“If you’re not behind this, then who is?”

“That’s the real question, isn’t it? And if you were half as clever as you pretend to be, you’d stop looking at only the spider cats in front of you and start noticing the wolves in koala sheep’s clothing. Clearly, you haven’t yet mastered the one expertise every capable ruler must know.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”  

“Get it into your head, boy: anyone who isn’t yourself is an enemy. There is never any such thing as alliances or people you can truly trust.”

“You trusted Azula.”

Ozai snorted, “A disappointing failure she turned out to be—just like you. It was weak of you to spare her…although I’ve heard it wasn’t actually you that won the Agni Kai.” He tilted his head with a wider smile. “Speaking of things I’ve heard, there have been the most amusing whispers reaching my ears these days. About you. About that…waterbender whose presence you sullied the court with.” He spat out “waterbender” as if the very word was covered in dirt.

“What?”

“Oh, just gossip. The kind that spreads like wildfire under the right conditions. That despite your marriage to Mai, and despite the waterbender’s ties to the Avatar, you and that whore are destined to rule together. That she’ll be your Fire Lady someday. As if you couldn’t ruin the Fire Nation’s glory even more.”

“That’s not true!”

“Of course not,” Ozai said easily. “But truth has never mattered to the masses. Not when there’s a story they prefer.” He stood up and began strolling about his small cell. “She’s quite the symbol, isn’t it? The Water Tribe girl who fights for justice and the welfare of all. Just a simple peasant who turned into a hero. Such an awe-inspiring figure. So loved by the people…too loved, maybe?”

He cocked his head at Zuko, who looked about close to ramming the iron bars down and squeezing his father’s throat. Or maybe even just shooting a fireball straight at him.

Ozai continued, “I always wondered what you saw in her when the rumours reached my ears. Although, I’ll admit ever since I heard she defeated my daughter, she has intrigued me. I’ve heard she’s passionate…spirited. But also…something much more.

“I’ve never met her, of course. But I’ve heard plenty from the guards when they think I’m not listening. They say she inspires loyalty the way others inspire fear. The waterbender with the silver tongue and who now commands a position on your council. I’ve heard that during the war, she once rallied an entire prison full of earthbenders to rise up against their jailers just with a paltry speech of hope and justice.”

He gave a slow, dry chuckle. “Words, Zuko, can be far more dangerous than we expect. I assume you’ve learnt that well enough.”

If he was able to learn all of this from an isolated prison cell, what else did he know? Zuko was not so much furious now as deeply unsettled. He made it a point on his mental checklist to tell Warden Kume later to have all the guards attending Ozai lectured, if not replaced. While they may have viewed their discussions as harmless, Zuko didn’t want sensitive information such as this to be part of idle chit-chat. Especially within hearing range of his father.

“Don’t talk about Katara as if you know her!” Zuko yelled, sparks of fire spitting from his mouth.

“Oh, but I don’t need to. You forget, Zuko, I ruled by understanding people before I conquered them. And what I see—what I hear—is that she walks with softness but leaves footprints in stone.” He studied his son carefully, taking pleasure in the irate reaction he was managing to stir up. “She speaks of peace. Unity. Justice. But underneath all that warmth? There’s something colder and sharper. You don’t survive war as a child—don’t command soldiers, confront monarchs, change nations—without learning how to cut when needed.”

Ozai turned away briefly, going over to one of the stone walls to trace a finger over it. “You know, before I was overthrown, I was already aware of some other wild stories that may not be common knowledge to most of the public. Whispers from a town where supposedly an elderly waterbending witch who escaped imprisonment was rearrested. From another village where a pitiful Southern Raider in retirement lived. It didn’t take me much to connect the dots. Your little whore can bend the blood of men, controlling them like puppets.”

“Enough of this,” Zuko said through gritted teeth. “I won’t hear you talk about Katara like that.”

But before he could turn to go, Ozai said, “With that weak heart of yours, you always were as easy to read as a book, Zuko. And right now, I can plainly see it written all over your face—you admire her. Her fire. Her loyalty. The ferocity with which she protects those unworthy of any notice. But those same qualities? They’re the ones that just as easily can become twisted. Tell me something—has she ever bent the truth to protect you? Or reacted negatively when someone disagrees with her values? Or made a decision you couldn’t quite explain, but you let it go because…well, you love her?”

Zuko, who had been glaring off to the side, shot him a look. He prayed none of the guards down the hall could hear.

“She’s not just a girl with healing hands and pretty ideals, nor some handmaiden of peace,” Ozai said. “She’s a storm wrapped in silk. She’s a force. And forces don’t stay gentle forever. They shift. They crush. Especially when they think they’re right. And now, she’s in your court, your inner circle—so close she could put a knife in your back and call it mercy. It’s always the gentle ones that hide a dark nature within them.”

“I said this before, you don’t fucking know her!”

“I know power,” Ozai said flatly. “And I know when someone’s pretending not to want it. She’s dangerous. Not because she’s wicked—but because she believes she’s righteous. She wants everyone to recognize her own moral compass.”

He gave a slow, grim chuckle. “People like that always burn the world for what they think is good.”

Zuko was breathing harder now, his nostrils flaring like Druk’s. Ozai was practically making the same accusations as Tatsunori had, and Zuko hated it. Did all his enemies view Katara in this maligned light? No, the only cruel one here was Ozai. Everything he wrongly believed Katara to be applied only to him. His arrogant pride, hidden as the desire to bring the Fire Nation to greatness…only Ozai was the real lion vulture. Everything, all the claims about wanting glory for the country he once ruled, it was just for glorifying himself.

Not done, Ozai said, “She’ll tire of the Avatar eventually once he proves to be an obstacle. Perhaps she’ll even tire of you. Because ambition—real ambition—doesn’t announce itself. It smiles and waits. She will break you, Zuko. Maybe even change you. And when you wake up and realize your hands are no longer your own…you’ll wonder how it happened. How she smiled while she did it.

“So, tell me…how well do you really know her? What secrets does she keep buried to remain on top? You can admire her. You can even love her. But you cannot build an empire with her. She’d do it without you anyway. If I were you, I’d snuff out the threat before it even has the chance of becoming a danger.”

Zuko stepped forward, his voice like steel. “I’m not trying to build an empire. That’s what destroyed you. This is about creating a new world—one of peace.”

For a moment, something flickered in Ozai’s eyes—contempt, perhaps, or something colder. But it vanished before Zuko could decipher it, as he threw his head back with chilling laughter.

“Oh, Zuko. You think you’ve rid of the ‘old world’. But all you’ve done is try to hide its scars by dressing it in flimsy gauze. And the moment the people see weakness—whether in your reign, your marriage, or your honour—they will remember my fire and beg for its return.”

Zuko didn’t respond, but his silence was just as thunderous as if he were shouting. It was foolish to come here. He should’ve expected this. No interaction with his father ever ended well. Without another word, he snatched the scroll from the floor and began walking away.

“You think the rumours don’t matter,” Ozai called out. “But a single story, whispered in the right ears, can unmake the alliances you are so desperate to hold. Your wife hears it. The Avatar hears it. Even your little waterbending whore herself begins to wonder. And before you know it—you’ll see that your inner circle is a pit of embers, each of them wondering who’s holding the match. All I can say is my hands are surprisingly clean of any of this. But I must thank you, Zuko. You’ve given me quite a show…”

His steps coming to a halt, Zuko glanced back at those golden eyes that used to haunt him in his nightmares as a teenager. Indeed, they had the power of making even the bravest of men quiver in their shoes.

“If you’re lying,” Zuko growled, “I’ll personally see to it that this cell becomes a box no fire can warm.”

The smile Ozai returned was dark and knowing.

“My son,” he said, almost tenderly, “you’re finally starting to sound like me…”

For two days, Katara and Zuko had gone without speaking to each other, the former not willing to break it and the latter praying she would. Katara’s presence in the palace was like a ghost to Zuko—felt but never seen. She was never in all the places he’d normally find her—the gardens, the courtyards, the training grounds. He suspected it was out of the intention to avoid him. He considered knocking at her bedchamber door but judged that to be unwise. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was trying to invade her privacy. Now, he only ever saw her in the throne room during council meetings. But even during those, when it was necessary to address him, she always did so with a formality that was foreign to their relationship.

Lost in confusion and hurt, he just couldn’t comprehend the reason for the invisible walls Katara had suddenly chosen to put between them. Try though she might to claim nothing was wrong, her reserved tone and distant demeanour told a different story.

The change in her behaviour gnawed at him. He replayed their last conversations, their recent interactions, searching for anything he might have done to offend her. Even though he tried to focus on his duties as Fire Lord, his thoughts kept circling back to her.

Frustrated, Zuko tried seeking answers from the other members of their gang. He started with Suki and Sokka, as they were the closest people to Katara he knew. However, their responses only deepened his confusion. As it turned out, Suki herself had been wanting to talk with Zuko. One of the first people to tell something was off, Suki had demanded to know whether the source of Katara’s upset state was the Fire Lord. But finding Zuko just as clueless as to what happened, Suki told him that, whatever the reason was, Katara refused to elaborate when asked. Sokka, in his usual obliviousness, simply shrugged it off as “Katara being Katara.”

Even Zuko’s hope in Toph’s seismic sense fell, her acute awareness only shedding light on what he already knew. In her usual blunt manner, the earthbender had said, “You’re both miserable, Sparky. I can hear it in your heartbeats. And you’re both idiots for not talking to each other about it.” Then, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world, she walked away, leaving Zuko more exasperated than before.

He briefly considered asking Aang if he knew anything but hesitated. Despite the truce they made a few days ago, Zuko suspected Aang’s part to be rather halfhearted and that the Avatar still harboured doubts about his friendship with Katara. The thought of stirring any unnecessary tension made Zuko stop short.

In the end, he resolved to stick with his resolution of giving her the space she desired. Respecting her wishes was the least he could do, even if it hurt. He would wait for her to come to him when she was ready, holding onto the hope that their friendship could weather whatever storm had come between them.

But as time dragged on, the ache in his chest only deepened, and the silence grew heavier. Trapped in their own thoughts, both longed for the same thing—to bridge the gap that had formed between them—but neither could find the words to begin.

Eventually one day, Toph stormed into Izumi’s room like a whirlwind, startling Ty Lee and Izumi from their quiet conversation. Izumi was propped up against her pillow, now well enough to sit up in bed, and her hands busy with a sketch. Ty Lee sat beside her, braiding flowers into her hair, her energy subdued but still warm.

Her hand pausing mid-doodle, Izumi was confused and slightly startled at the sudden intrusion. “Toph?”

“Enough!” Toph declared, her voice cutting through the room. “I am so done with Sparky and Sugar Queen moping around and acting like a couple of lovesick ostrich-horses!”

Ty Lee tilted her head, curious. “I’ve noticed that their auras have been looking rather…washed out. What’s going on with them anyway?”

Toph crossed her arms and huffed, “Apparently, they’ve decided to have the world's dumbest silent war. Zuko’s brooding like the world’s on fire again, and Katara’s been avoiding him like he’s got dragon pox. It’s pathetic, and I’m not gonna let it drag on any longer.”

Izumi frowned, setting down her pencil. “But what can we do about it?”

Having sensed the vibrations coming from Izumi’s hands when she entered, Toph asked, “First, what’s that you’re drawing?” Then, with a smug smirk, she asked, “Is it a glorified depiction of me?”

“Is this supposed to be a person?” Ty Lee asked, squinting at it. “Who is she? And what’s that glowing thing?”

She leaned closer to peer at Izumi’s sketch. It looked almost as crude as Sokka’s artwork. Almost everything was hard to identify apart from the fact that the woman had long black hair. Above her was a large red stone.

Izumi sighed, her cheeks tinging pink. “It’s from my vision. Avatar Roku showed me this woman and told me to find her. But my vision ended before he could tell me her name. We were at some sort of ruined temple too and there was this red stone-thingy.”

“That’s a problem for later,” Toph said. “Right now, we’ve got to handle Sparky and Sweetness. They’ll also want to be on board with figuring out all those freaky visions you’re having, but that can’t happen if they can’t even talk properly in the same room together.”

Izumi tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “But how do we even get them to talk if they’re avoiding each other?”

A mischievous look came to Toph’s colourless eyes. “Leave that to me. But first, I’m going to need a little extra help from you two…”

When Katara heard the knocking at her door, she ignored it as usual and continued lying on her bed, staring up at the embroidered canopy. Probably it was Suki again coming to inquire if she was well. But the tiny voice that called from behind proved her wrong.

“Katara? Are you in there?” Izumi asked.

The waterbender was on her feet at once, opening the door for the girl. “Izumi, glad to see that you’re doing better.” She poked her head out further into the corridor. “Where’s Ty Lee?”

Izumi hesitated before vaguely answering, “She’s…busy with something else. And I got bored so I was wondering if I could stay with you until she’s finished?”

Katara raised an eyebrow but put up no objection, letting Izumi enter the room. “Would you like something to snack on? I think I still have some Water Tribe seaweed crackers.”

“Ooh, yes please!”

They sat at a carved table by the balcony, Katara setting a plate of the savouries before Izumi and pouring tea for them both. With the gentle breeze blowing in, it would’ve been a pleasant and relaxing time for Katara if she wasn’t thinking about the times she and Zuko enjoyed tea together. Nibbling on a seaweed cracker, Izumi observed the far-off look in Katara’s eyes as she stared out towards the city.

“Are you okay, Katara?” Izumi asked, even though she knew the answer.

“I’m fine.” After answering the same question so many times already, Katara was finding it more of an effort to mask the weariness in her tone.

“If you’re really fine, then why have you and Zuko stopped talking with each other? Did…did you two argue?”

Katara stiffened, her hands clenching around her teacup. It seemed not even her attempt at subtlety could escape Izumi—and she hadn’t even known her and Zuko for that long.

Taking a shot in the dark, Izumi guessed, “Could it be that…you’re still upset about what I said concerning the future?”

A heavy sigh was the only answer Katara gave. Maybe it was because she was getting worn out from putting on a fake smile. Maybe it was because she truly desired pouring out her feelings instead of bottling them up. But either way, it was useless to continue pretending.

Looking back out towards the view, her gaze fixed on the early evening sky. The sun was just dipping below the horizon of the sea, the faint silvery moon high above it. When she was a child, Katara often heard stories from her grandmother about the two celestial bodies sometimes appearing at the same time. Tragic tales of the sun and moon chasing each other but never being close enough to reach…

“I’m guessing you’re worried about what people are saying about you and Zuko.”

Katara looked at Izumi in surprise. “How did you—”

“Just a hunch,” Izumi said with a shrug. “Auntie Ty Lee always used to say that if I ever grew up to be a Kyoshi Warrior, my instincts would serve me well. You can credit them right now—well, and all the talk going on right now, especially amongst the maids who clean my room. I don’t know how they think I’m never listening.”

She slightly regretted her words when she saw her explanation wasn’t making Katara feel any less bad. If Toph was here, Izumi knew the earthbender would be cussing her out right now.

“You know, in the future, I always wondered why my Auntie Ty Lee never really wanted to talk about Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara. In fact, I didn’t even know that she was friends with you guys until I came here. I realize now that the past was probably too painful for her…” Trying to sound cheerful again, she continued, “But now, being here, Ty Lee can tell me all the stories I want!”

Confused as to where Izumi was going with this, Katara finally looked her in the eye.

“From what Ty Lee told me and what I've personally seen so far, you and Zuko are good friends. She even said until you and Zuko became close, she’s never seen his aura so radiant.” Izumi gave a sad smile murmuring, “You both faced worse things before. Why would you let something like this come between you?”

The look of childlike innocence staring back at Katara made her guiltily look down at her teacup. Izumi’s naivety almost broke her heart, hitting her with the same force as one of Zuko’s cast down expressions. It was slightly touching for the girl to have such faith, but…

“Things just aren’t that simple, Izumi. This…this isn’t one of those stories you’d hear where there are clear solutions.”

Izumi frowned. “But they’re more than stories; they’re true. You guys are living proof! And…and I never said there were clear solutions. I know that there are probably many things in between that were left out, but…but…” She struggled to make sense of herself, her own thoughts being a jumble to sort out.

“Oh, Katara,” she eventually burst out, “don’t you miss Zuko?”

The waterbender’s shoulders slumped. A minute passed before she weakly nodded her head, feeling the burden of many unsaid words lift off her chest.

She did.

She did miss him.

The weight of her decision ached more every passing moment. But Mai’s accusations and the ones not said straight to her face still lingered. Her closeness with Zuko would only add more fuel to the fire. How could she explain herself without opening a door she wasn’t sure she could close again?

“It’s not just because I’m worried about the rumours,” Katara confessed. “It’s the possibility that they could be right. That I could let all these circumstances ruin everything we’ve worked for. I can’t let that happen.”

Izumi sat back in her chair, reflecting a little. “You know, when Kyoshi Island was attacked, Auntie Ty Lee said she knew it would eventually happen, but she didn’t let that stop her from living her life or loving the people around her. The last thing she told me before leaving was that she didn’t regret a single moment, even though she was aware of the things to come. I think she was trying to teach me one final lesson: you can’t let fear of the future stop you from fully living your life in the present.”

“Izumi, I—”

“Please, Katara,” the little girl begged. With earnest and almost desperate eyes, she reached over and clasped the waterbender’s hands in her own. “Zuko cares about you, and I can tell you care about him too. That’s the main reason why you’ve shut him out, isn’t it? Because you want to protect him. I-It’s just that…even though you’re doing it for his sake…you’re mainly letting fear guide you and it’s hurting you both. And I don’t think it’s fair to either you or Zuko.”

Katara’s emotions were warring within her. For such a young girl, Izumi sure was perceptive and wise beyond her years. Out of all the memories in the back of her head, a certain one came to mind. Of her and Zuko staring up at the night sky on the roof of his family’s vacation villa. Of a promise she had made to him then—that they’d always be friends and that he’d never lose her. How insincere he must think of her now! To break her own promise when things got too tough!

He probably hated her now. Or at least was very disappointed in her. She knew their friendship and the vow they had made had been strong and true but…

…could they ever be renewed or repaired at all?