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The Alchemy of Fire - Arc I by Shadowhawke

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Chapter Two: One Small Twist Disclaimer: Mike and Bryan, the show’s creators, own Avatar: The Last Airbender, completely Chapter Two: One Small Twist
Disclaimer: Mike and Bryan, the show’s creators, own Avatar: The Last Airbender, completely. I’m only showing my love of their world by playing in it.

A/N: As a note, I absolutely loved the finale. However, I also think that Mike and Bryan have given us such beautifully and wonderfully deep characters that there were some possibilities left unmined in the short time they were given to wrap the series up. And so here is my story. I hope you all enjoy.

(And to my other readers... I shall hopefully finish Starlight one day, when that world comes alive for me again.)
Fire is life, and it casts light over truth,
It reveals who we are and it builds over youth,
Its alchemy’s strong and its changes are running,
And through one small twist, the fire is coming.

8 8 8

~ Three Days Earlier. ~

It hadn’t taken the officials (the ones who were left, anyway), all that long to round up the requisite crowd for the royal Agni Kai; the palace courtyard had already been flooded with nobles and commoners alike for Azula’s coronation. And thus it was that Katara settled into stance by the side of the golden arena, half a thousand people surrounding her, all watching as the two Fire Nation siblings prepared.

Katara breathed, and felt the waters in the aqueduct settle along with her. It was exasperating to wait for battle like this, forced into the shadows by some outdated Fire Nation law preventing her from doing anything to interfere. Katara muttered a few choice words to herself as she picked out Zuko’s face from the crimson light streaking the sky. The backglow reddened his scar angrily, but she didn’t even notice it as she focused on his face. The face of a friend...

Katara’s fists clenched. You’d better win, Zuko, she thought grimly. If you’re don't, I’m going to kill you myself for being so stupid.

And as the horrible, impossible thought of failure briefly crossed her mind... it began.

It started with a flurry of words, arcing harsh and hateful across the air before being deflected by a calm riposte. There was a still breath, a second, and the siblings followed their words with twin unimaginable streams of fire bursting from their hands. And then the two siblings rushed at each other, and within moments the entire arena was filled with billows of blue and gold, crashing in time to the gasps of the audience. Smoke curled across the ground, the fire burning so intense they couldn’t look away. Katara couldn’t look away. She had never thought that fire could be so beautiful...

And then the screams started.

Katara’s head jerked up and her gaze widened. ‘Sloppy’ wasn’t a word you could ever associate with Azula, but at the moment, she couldn’t think of anything else. Somehow, blazes of azure flame had eaten into the stands on the side, and people were burning...

Katara acted without thinking. Twirling her arms, she pushed and pulled until a stream of water spun from the gates, thinning out into a spider of arms as they chased down the flame. There was a hiss, and then steam and smoke choked the air, and the nobles who had been fighting to escape subsided. With clearing vision, Katara scanned for the injured amidst the tangle of bodies. There were at least three women badly burnt.

 For a moment, she was tempted, so very tempted to damn the rules and bring Azula to the ground. But then as her mind cleared, she saw the people moving, helping their countrymen to the top where the physicians were waiting. Frustrated at her helplessness, she released her lower lip and turned back to the fight... just in time to see Azula panting, low growls erupting from her throat. More flames flew from the arena and into the stands, and Katara instinctively sent her whips out one by one, curling around the fire and never counting the lives she saved. And then the barrage grew and she began resorting to snatching the flame midair, seconds before it hit the onlookers, precision and control in her stance. Some of the crowd began to notice her, the waterbender swathed in blue and was saving their lives. And then the frequency of the flames free-falling  into the stand began to increase with such rapidity that Katara no longer watched the fight, her focus solely on preventing people from dying by Azula’s hands.

Not that she needed to watch to know what was happening. The Fire Princess was hurling her blows now, not caring that the force behind them carried past Zuko and reached the sky before raining down onto her would-be subjects. And Azula was slipping, she was falling, even as she skated around him on her own power, and snarled, the sound lost behind the roaring of her fire. Sparks skittered from her passage, and then one of her blows swung off to ignite the entire left stand.

Katara couldn’t possibly have stopped it. Infused by the comet and Azula’s own hatred, it slammed into the Fire Nation people with a ferocity that none of them had seen before. Katara saw it pass by her in slow motion, saw the flame eat into flesh, and then she opened her mouth and screamed...

...

Katara jerked upwards, breathing hard, and for a moment she forgot where she was. She could still hear the screaming echoing lifelessly in her ears, could still taste the memory of metallic heat in the air. Disoriented, she shook her head, and somehow, the movement focused her vision again. The reds and golds of the canopy above room slowly appeared, glowing dully in the moonlight as she lay still.

It was over.

Katara exhaled, slow and shaky as she scrambled up to a sitting position on the bed. Shivering slightly despite the heat, she wrapped the sweat-stained blankets around her knees.  It was over.

It was over.

... and she wasn’t going to get back to sleep tonight.

Katara took another deep, quelling breath, and then threw the covers off her. Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself off the side of the criminally comfortable bed and found her shoes and robe. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she slid into them. They were red and gold, like almost everything else in this place, and while she had nothing against the colours themselves, their existence reminded her of what exactly had happened to the tunic she’d worn to this place. She swallowed dryly. It was probably brown now, an old bloodstain, and...

No.

Resolutely, Katara tied the sash around her waist and set her chin stubbornly. She wasn’t going to think about it. She didn’t need to think about it. Most importantly, she didn’t want to think about it, and so for as long as she could, she was going to hold it off. Reaching out, Katara grabbed her water pouch from the bedside drawers and slung it over her shoulders. Quietly, she crossed the floor, swung open the door and walked out into the corridor.

The Fire Nation palace was subdued at night, the blazing sconces every few meters only poor imitations of the shafts of sunlight that normally arced through the windows during the day. Quickly, Katara retraced her steps over the soft carpet. The palace was so large that if she hadn’t made the trip twice so many times already, she would probably have gotten lost. As it was, the repeated journey from her room to the infirmary had occurred more times than she cared to admit over the last day and a half. Katara resolutely tried to ignore the sagging exhaustion in her limbs as she walked now. In the last thirty-six hours, sleep had proven shockingly evasive for both of them. She let herself smile lopsidedly. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she knew the rings under her eyes were mirrored by the rings under Zuko’s, she might have sought him out. As it was, her feet carried her unerringly away from the direction of his room, as if they too knew that the Fire Prince needed all the rest he could get. Besides, they’d talked for long enough the previous night... Katara’s smile widened in gentle awe at the lie. There was a lot to catch up on, after an entire year as enemies.

But that could all wait. Katara stepped into the doorway of the infirmary, and let sad eyes sweep over the softly moaning bodies and the black and red flesh. And then anger replaced the sadness, guilt replaced the anger, and determination replaced the guilt. In the moonlight, Katara pulled out the stopper from her pouch and drew out her element.

And then, humming lightly under her breath, Katara got to work.

8 8 8

Whatever he had hoped, dreamed, or thought about the end of the war, Zuko had never imagined it to be quite like this. For one, he’d spent his first night back home talking with a waterbender. The incredulous smile that lit his face up at the thought of that little miracle faded away with the remembrance of everything else. Like the work. It had taken less than an hour after the deadly Agni Kai for everything to fall in on him, and then the day had suddenly seemed too short for facing his most important Ministers, for giving them their new orders, for preparing the drafting of a treaty, for taking stock of the Nation he was once again Prince of...

Not to mention that even now, he couldn’t possibly fathom sleeping in the Fire Lord’s chambers. Things were too fresh, too raw for that. For the second time, on this second night, he had felt eyes at his bank as he’d gone to his old rooms and firmly shut the door.

Now, Zuko looked around at the flickering shadows, watching the dance of light across his walls. Then again, there weren’t that many good memories here either. He sat on the bed and felt it sink a little, staying there until the whisper of the trees sang louder than the inhabitants of the palace.

As if a flame had moved inside him, Zuko abruptly stood again. The door didn’t creak as he opened it, his footsteps padding out into the carpeted corridor outside. The Fire Prince moved like a ghost through his home, not quite knowing where he was going. It was only when he stood outside the gaping cavern of his father’s study that things began to make sense.

Zuko took a breath and pushed the door open, a flame lit in his palm. Two quick movements lit the fireplace in the corner and the lamp above the desk. He surveyed the room expressionlessly.

Ozai’s desk was ordered rigidly; the scrolls stacked in boxes and the boxes on shelves. A map was spread out across the center of the floor, the lands tinted blood-like with red. Zuko winced and was about to turn away, when something strange caught his eye.

The islands that formed the Fire Nation were an old image in his mind; their picture drilled into him long ago by constant exposure. But now as Zuko moved closer, he saw little shapes dot their expanse. His eyes narrowed as he carefully crouched, ever aware of the wound still clawed into his chest, and tentatively extended his fingers to touch the figures. One moved under his skin, and he almost whipped his hand back as he realised exactly what it was.

He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to recognise it. Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t slept for over twenty-four hours, but his mind still felt relatively clear. Zuko frowned and picked up the figurine of a Fire Nation soldier, arms welded tight to his sides. Curling his fingers around it loosely, he stepped back, and with his newfound realisation he saw the map for what it was; a strategy board. The names of towns and cities clung to the geography of the land, the figures massed amongst them. His eyes wandered over to the Earth Kingdom and then sprang back to familiar territory, repelled by the sea of red that blocked out Ba Sing Se. A wave of regret stole his breath for a moment, but then he shook himself out of it. There was no more time for that. The war was over, it was likely that the city had already been liberated.

Zuko exhaled and was about to settle the Fire Nation soldier back in its place when he heard footsteps. On reflex, he quickly brought the flames from the lamp and the fireplace down to embers, casting the room into shadow. The movement jarred the wound still sitting in his flesh, and for a moment the he felt the pain trigger a flood of adrenaline through his veins, flowing fast and sweet before his mind caught up with his body. With a snort of disgust the Fire Prince released the fire and let light spring back into the study. This was what happened when you ran for too long.

The renewed brightness outlined a shape at the doorway, and despite Zuko’s return to calmness, he felt his heartbeat pick up again. Whoever it was, they wore the light armour of a guard captain, and Zuko had to remind himself that he was no longer being hunted by his people.

“Who is it?” he asked, his voice rasping slightly in the night.

The figure paused, and then took off his helmet to reveal clear amber eyes. With a quiet confidence, the guard captain crossed the threshold, and Zuko saw his features emerging from the dimness of the corridor. and crossed the threshold. He was a young man, perhaps not much older than Zuko himself, but other than that there seemed to be nothing distinctive about him.  He had the kind of nondescript face that could blend anywhere if one didn’t look too closely, and for some reason that made Zuko instantly distrust him.

“My name is Shen Li, your highness.”

Zuko’s eyelids didn’t flicker. “Why are you here?”

A slight, wry smile crossed the other’s face. It deepened the angles in his features, and Zuko was struck by how familiar he looked. He frowned, trying to place the man’s ancestry, but couldn’t quite do it.

“A messenger from General Iroh arrived just minutes ago. Here.”

The guard captain extended a scroll, and with a sudden rush of eagerness Zuko nearly snatched it out of his grasp. Remembering to mumble a thank-you, Zuko turned quickly to the desk without thinking and tugged the ribbon loose, As such, Zuko completely missed Shen Li’s smile settle down into an almost imperceptible frown, and the sight of the soldier’s hand reaching into his bag and pulling out another document. As Zuko let the paper roll down to reveal his uncle’s familiar rounded characters, the guard captain considered the second roll of paper in his hand for a moment, before placing it down on the drawers beside the massive desk. Then he bowed, straightened, and departed silently.

Zuko noticed none of this; the mere sight of Iroh’s handwriting was enough to lessen the ripple of worry that had curled around his chest. His uncle was alive, and that meant everything was okay. With a sigh of relief, Zuko turned to the letter itself, reading it with hungry eyes. The ink seemed to smile at him as he went, their strokes elegant and sure, and for a second the familiarity of them almost hurt. 

To Zuko,

I trust that this letter will reach you as the Fire Lord, or at least the Fire Lord-to-be. With that in mind, I am writing to let you know that you have officially lost Ba Sing Se and it has been returned to the Earth Kingdom.

Zuko paused to let a rare smile wreathe his face from side to side, hearing an echo of his Uncle’s hearty chuckle behind the words. He’d known that Iroh could do it. It was just another victory to toast in the days to come...

But then, as quickly as it had spread through his heart, Zuko’s elation suddenly vanished. In his mind, he still hadn’t quite settled what ‘the days to come’ would look like. He was Fire Lord now... well, he would be soon. And that would mean reigning over a torn and divided nation, most of whom knew him only as the dishonoured, traitor prince.

With the ugly image of the blood-coloured world stark in his mind, Zuko shivered and kept reading.

Of course, I’m sure you have more things on your mind than me removing a sizeable portion of your lands. I do hope you are settling well, Nephew. Well enough that you have to time to attend to what I ask of you soon. Whatever state you find the Fire Nation in now, the aftermath of war will only make things worse. So allow a humble old man to make his recommendations. Seek out your Minster for Security and speak with his son. I met with the boy a few times, long ago, and I believe he will make an excellent Chief Bodyguard and advisor for you in the days to come.

Zuko’s breath suddenly stilled. Pausing, he reread the last few sentences carefully, the years spent with his Uncle paying off well. For between the stately lines, Zuko knew exactly what Iroh was trying to tell him. To be careful in his new position, to trust none of his Father’s Ministers, advisors and servants until he was completely certain of where their loyalties lay.

Now don’t look at me that way, Nephew. I know you can look after yourself, you’ve shown that. But I’m sure that Shen Li will prove invaluable in his own way.

At that, Zuko’s eyebrows shot higher than the sky. Shen Li was not that uncommon a combination, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were at least a hundred of them scattered around in the Fire Nation. But through some strange synchronicity, he somehow knew exactly which one his Uncle was talking about. With a sigh, he turned around, ready to address the man he’d briefly forgotten the existence of, only to be met with thin air.

Zuko blinked, and then swore under his breath. He hadn’t even noticed the guard captain leave. For a moment he was unsettled, but then with a struggle, he managed to push his paranoia back. If Uncle vouched for him, he was sure to be all right. He turned back to the last few lines of the letter with a newfound uncertainty resting in his gaze.

Be well, Nephew. I’ve packaged two sachets of tea for any headaches you might encounter in the near future. I’ll bring more when I visit.

Iroh.

Zuko stared at his Uncle’s name for a moment, and then let the paper fall to the desk. Sinking back into his chair, careful not to aggravate his wound, Zuko exhaled slowly. Then, with a sigh moving through his frame, he made a mental note to himself that he’d call for the guard captain in the morning. 

As if repeating the habits of the night, Zuko sat in the chair for a very long while before he moved, his eyes never leaving the shape of the Fire Nation fixed into the map on the floor. When Zuko finally left the study, he extinguished the flames with a twist of his hands. The door closed behind him as he faced forwards into the corridor, and the Fire Prince walked away without ever noticing the second scroll left abandoned near his father’s desk, the smooth surface swallowing up the last of the firelight.
8 8 8

Katara paused briefly, feeling exhaustion weigh down her limbs. It seemed like ages had passed since she’d caught a quick nap on Appa’s back. Perhaps even eons. She brushed her arm tiredly against her forehead. So much had changed...

Katara pulled herself straight, set her shoulders, and got back to work. The child under her hands shifted slightly in her sleep as the water passed over her once more, pale features youthful and innocent past the burns. Katara winced as she worked her water into them, felt the stinging and heard the soft cry as the Fire Nation girl shifted in her sleep.

At the movement, Katara looked down at her, looked down at her closely. And then watched as her world turned upside down again. Things really had changed. Everything. Her mind drifted from her last rest on Appa to the first time she’d ever climbed on, and she bit her lip to stifle back a laugh... or a sob, she wasn’t quite sure which. Whatever it was, it was something that tasted like awe as she swallowed it down again, because the transformation seemed incomprehensible. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember what it was like to have been the innocent girl dutifully doing her chores, taking care of everyone and dreaming of waves of water. Katara looked down. The red burn that she’d been healing had faded to whole flesh again, and she smiled, resting her water-gloved hand briefly on the child’s cheek before moving on.

He was asleep, like most of them were, and Katara wondered briefly if the doctors had put something into their food. But then the thought vanished as she pulled back the sheets. This time, she bit her lip back to stifle a cry - the damage that had been done was dreadful. As her eyes rounded the charred flesh across his shoulders and creeping down across his chest, she wondered at how he could still be alive. And then she cursed herself, because she thought that she’d seen most of the terribly wounded ones already, thought that she and the Fire Nation doctors had had a system...

The sapphire glow from her hands lit up his craggy features briefly before settling back. Katara studied his face, hopelessly drawn to his humanity. He looked older than he should have, a boy forced into being a man, and Katara closed her eyes. If only she could save him...

...

Katara stared at the left stands, completely and utterly in shock. The people who had been there before had been whole, pink, living. At the point of impact, they were simply gone, black ashes on the ground. The lucky ones clutched horrific burns to the side, the physicians had long been swamped, and Katara readied her stream of water to propel her to their sides, to heal some of the damage...

“NO!”

Katara turned, just in time to feel electricity spark its reflection in her irises, and Zuko crumple to the ground. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed its own scream. This could not be happening, this couldn’t... “ZUKO!”

... and then she felt the image of his body imprint itself across her eyes, saw him filled with unnatural light, saw him shine as he crumpled to the ground with a low cry of pain. And then she was running, she was dodging, she was fighting. Not for good, not for vengeance, but for hope. The hope that if she could get to her friend in time, she might be able to save him...

“Why Zu-Zu, you don’t look so good!”

Katara clenched her jaw. She only had a few miniscule drops of water left in her hand, and Azula was preparing another blow that this time she couldn’t avoid. Desperately, she breathed in and out, feeling the water around her, curling between her fingers, running through the aqueducts, running through their veins...

Katara’s eyes snapped wide. Congratulations, Katara, you’re a bloodbender. She drew herself tall and then breathed again, bringing her hands up slowly and crashing them down. There was a shudder, and then suddenly the red-and-gold plated figure on the roof trembled to her knees.

Azula spat fire as she sank, feeling her very blood weigh her to the ground. Her eyes fixed on the waterbender moving in her forms. What is that peasant doing to me?! She snarled and pushed back, drawing on the power of the comet to repel the foreign force. But it was too late. Her walls of fire had broken, and Katara rushed to the aqueducts, all the water in her hands gone and of no use to anyone, let alone Zuko.

She had barely reached the grill when a flying spray of flame greeted her. Dodging aside, Katara swept up a full wave to drench the other girl. Fire and water met and evaporated into the air, equal strength matched by equal strength. Azula screamed again and ran towards her, weaving through Katara’s hastily formed octopus arms to strike at the girl within. Despite her predicament, Katara couldn’t help but shoot a glance at the fallen boy in the arena. He was on his stomach, his fingers grasping shakily at the air, and she knew she was running out of time...

Katara’s mouth thinned. She brought her arms up sharply, and before Azula knew it she was spinning in a massive wave, a wave which was carrying them both towards her brother. Gathering her mind, the Fire Princess twisted sharply, severing the water and sending them both crashing to the ground. Katara caught herself, barely, skating on curves of ice raised up from the remnants of her wave, and Azula followed with her fire. Katara’s heart dropped to her stomach. She could feel her hard-won water hiss into steam behind her even as she neared Zuko, and dammit, she was going to be too late, too late...

...

In the far reaches of her mind, the parts of her that weren’t concentrating on directing her element to seep through the pain and bring life back to dead skin, Katara felt herself sway. The movement snapped open her vision, and it took her a moment to focus before she could see.

His face had smoothed, taking away the lines that had given him so many extra years. The agony in his breath had receded, leaving him in living sleep rather than near-death. In the stillness broken only by the soft shifting of the hospital’s other occupants, Katara stared down at the lightly reddened flesh before her, feeling more exhausted than she’d ever had in her life.

Magic, they’d whispered when she first came. And then the whispers grew louder, became words she could hear. And she had to admit she was shocked that Witch followed afterwards, even when she was trying her hardest to save their lives. But then the doctors had swept in, trained professionals who had steel-soft voices, whose organisation and control had replaced the mutterings. And much, much later, when she was passing her water over a small child instead of an already haggard and prejudiced adult, she was called Angel.

Katara sighed and moved her water to the boy’s torso. What she’d give to be called...

“I thought I’d find you here.”

The voice was low, from just behind her shoulder, and Katara jumped. Her water splattered to the floor as she spun around, soaking the hem of her robe. “Zuko! Don’t... sneak up on me like that!”

Zuko half-smiled, cloaked in tiredness and distance. “Sorry,” he said, and then his smile grew fully when she hmmphed at him and turned away, summoning up her water again. And so they stayed like that for a while, she working quietly, he lost in his thoughts and yet oddly comforted by the knowledge that his people were in such good hands. Around them, the silence settled on them reassuringly, full of words that didn’t need to be said. But then, finally, when she’d moved on to the next one (because there was always a next one), Katara spoke.

“So, you couldn’t sleep either?”

Zuko chuckled. “How’d you guess?” he asked dryly, twisting to face her out of habit. Nothing happened for all of a second, and then Zuko gasped as a strike of pain shot across his chest. Katara was there before he knew it, bringing her hands up to loosen his robes. “You idiot,” she scolded, her voice thick with worry. “I told you that you weren’t healed yet!”

Zuko grimaced but said nothing, letting her pull up his undershirt and trying to push away the pain. Before him, Katara bit her tongue lightly as she unwound the darkening bandages. When the swollen skin was finally revealed, torn open and dribbling blood from his sudden movement, Katara hissed in sympathy as she summoned her water through the air.  The wound had reached deeply, so deeply... it was as if Azula’s lightning had clawed its fingers inside him before shattering the sky. Silently, Katara thanked La that she had made it in time. Because if she hadn’t...

Katara swallowed, and concentrated once more. She didn’t have to think about that now. What was important was that she had. Even if there had been a price...

...
 
From behind her, Azula reached forwards and shattered the last of her ice. There was a breath, and then Katara cried out as she tumbled onto the ground, her reaching hands clawing at the air as she landed meters from her target. The Fire Princess flipped off her stream of fire, laughing jerkily again as she approached them both. 

“No more running, filthy peasant,” she snarled. Her voice carried to the crowd, cut through them like a sword. There was only a puddle of water left of the wave that Katara had carried, and Azula could almost smell victory in the air. The waterbender swayed, and Azula ignored the own shakiness in her knees to look into the peasant’s face and see herself reflected in ice-blue eyes. The girl was fourteen as well, she remembered. Tendrils of her brown hair were escaping from her plait, and in her widened eyes, Azula thought she saw fear.

She smiled, insanity colouring her eyes and whiting out her teeth. It was time to end this.

Azula didn’t notice as Katara’s own eyes narrowed. She was moving so fast she couldn’t see the girl’s fingers dip down to gather the little water she had left. Nothing mattered, besides the fact that nothing the pathetic little peasant could possibly conjure up would stop the bolt of flame that was headed for her throat, and...

It took over a second for her to feel it.

First there was pain, a terrible pain that flooded from a single concentrated point in her chest, in exactly the same place she’d hit Zuko. Azula’s eyes opened so wide they took in the sun. And then she was flooded with cold... it was so cold, and Azula crumpled to her knees in shock. She felt the ice dagger slide out of her, leaving a fiery path in its wake. Shakingly, uncomprehendingly, she stared down at the bloody hole within her, and then, seemingly in slow motion, the Azula, daughter of Phoenix King Ozai and one of the greatest firebenders to have ever lived, fell.

It took a moment, but then Katara fell with her, the hand not holding the dagger automatically cradling around her fallen opponent’s side. I will never turn my back on the people who need me. As she knelt down, Azula’s head fell back and rested on the ground. The movement brought them closer, and as the entire crowd stilled, pools of anguished blue met wide-open circles of gold.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Katara whispered.

It was a pointless, useless apology. They both knew it, but for some reason the cold in her chest and the waterbender’s eyes cleared the madness in her head. The last vestiges of Azula’s mind rushed up into lucidity with a gasp, and with her blood leaking out of her body, she managed to register something.

The waterbender was not afraid.

What was her name? Katara... that’s what her brother had said. Azula tried to shape the syllables with her mouth, but as she moved she felt the terrible, sharp-lit pain twist in her torso. The name turned into a weak cry, and that was when the blue eyes crushed and the girl’s grip became tighter, almost an embrace.

In the distilled clarity of her mind, Azula recognised what drove the strength of the water peasant’s arms. There was no fear... and so the shining in her eyes had to be something else, something different, something miraculous.

With her sanity, Azula latched on to that light and used it to fuel her last words. They came out hoarsely, slowly, like a baby rabbit-mouse taking its first steps, and Katara had to crane her head down to hear them.

“Am I a monster?”

Azula watched as the waterbender’s gaze widened, and what was left of her heart fell back into her chest. She could almost see the memories running across the other’s face; see herself poised with fire, arms always reaching out to attack the ones the girl loved. She could even see the moment Katara remembered Ba Sing Se, when her mouth compressed slightly and the pool of her eyes grew darker. At that moment, Azula wanted to die. But then, what had she expected? She had frightened her own mother, made an enemy out of her brother, left herself all alone...

Azula coughed, and drew in a shuddering, bloody breath. Her vision was hazing now, her ability to see swimming out of her grasp. So be it. She would die held by a water peasant, and truly, truly alone...

“No.”

Azula’s drooping eyelids snapped open. The waterbender was staring down at her, her eyes fierce and determined. “No, you’re not a monster,  Azula. You never were.”

The thought rang in her cleared mind like a bell. Thank you. But she never said it, because even if she could have, they both knew that saying thank you after all this time would have been as useless as the waterbender’s apology. And so with the last tendrils of her strength, Azula focused on Katara’s eyes, and the care that she found in them.

Slowly, Azula felt herself sink into a realm of white. The cold and pain vanished, replaced by a strange tingling that didn’t extend itself to her body. A sudden sense of soaring caught her spirit, and  then she was flying into the sun and the fire that she loved, leaving the cage of her hatred behind.

And so Azula died, the faintest trace of a long-forgotten smile on her lips.

...

.”... Katara? Katara?”

Katara snapped back to attention, her eyes instantly focusing on the worried face in front of her. He was all right. He was alive, and so was she. Katara swallowed, and then her water-gloved hand dropped to her side, leaving Zuko’s healing skin cooling against the air. He pulled his shift back down as she let out a hissing breath through her teeth. “Sorry,” she apologised, averting her gaze. “I guess I just got a little distracted.”

She was surprised when he placed a hand on her shoulder, so surprised that her head jerked back up to meet his eyes at the touch. Zuko had never struck her as a particularly tactile person... but his fingers were warm as he held her gently, and her shock slowly faded away to be replaced by a quiet acknowledgement of his proffered comfort. But her look must have conveyed her earlier surprise, because Zuko’s hand was awkward as it fell back to his side. 

“You don’t have to do this to yourself,” he finally said, his golden eyes warm and sincere. “You did what you had to. We all did.”

Katara didn’t question how he knew, she just looked away. “She was your sister,” she whispered.

Katara felt his eyes hold her in their gaze, studying her for a long time before they finally shifted away to the window. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She was.”

It was simple, but the finality of it brushed cold fingers against her spine. Katara bit her lip again and turned to face the same window. The quiet lights of the Fire Nation capitol lay spread out before them, a sea of dancing fire that eventually spread out into the darkness of the restless sea. The foreign beauty of the moment startled her, and Katara felt something slow and uncertain curl up in her belly in response.

Yes. There had been change. She had changed.

... and so had he.

Katara felt something approaching a smile cross her face as she glanced at the boy beside her. Thirty-six hours ago, he had been the strongest she’d ever seen him. And there had been none of the  rage and hatred that had coiled up inside her as she’d watched, only fear and an odd belief as he’d danced, splitting Azula’s hydras of flame with his own blades of fire. And then her sight had been shattered by lightning.

For some reason, Katara suddenly felt old as she stood with Zuko looking out to the ocean. It really had only been one year. But then, after so many months of loathing, here they were. Victors. Allies. Friends.

“You know, I meant what I said last night,” Katara said abruptly, suddenly. Zuko began to turn to her, startled, but subsided at the remembered twinges in his chest.

“You said a lot of things last night,” he said carefully, his lips stretched into a painful grin. “From telling me you’d never forgive Yon Rha to how much more you liked mangoes to papaya.”

There was a moment where her eyebrows arched into seriousness, and then it fled as she laughed. “Good point,” she chuckled. “I’d kind of forgotten about that. Well, I meant the important thing.”

His grin lost its strain at her guilelessness. “I’m afraid that still doesn’t narrow it down, Katara. I don’t suppose I could get any specifics?”

Katara rolled her eyes, but sobered as she studied him. “When we were talking about the future,” she said softly. “When we were talking about your future. I meant what I said when I told you that you’d make a good Fire Lord.”

With that, the corners of his mouth lifted enough to make it a proper, genuine smile. “I know,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the view. He turned back with her, the words hesitant in his throat. “Thank you,” he said again, staring out to the sea. “It... it means a lot, coming from you.”

“Me?” Katara arched her eyebrow wryly, smoothing the skin of her hands. “I thought I was just a little peasant?”

Zuko winced as his remembered words echoed back at him. “You know you’re more than that,” he shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The eyebrow subsided. “I don’t really know what I am, really,” she admitted quietly, and somewhere inside her, a restless coil of feeling shifted in agreement. Yet as soon as the words escaped her, she regretted them. They made it real, made her weak, and she was about to open her mouth to take them back when he spoke first.

“What are you going to do, after this?”

She stopped. “Huh?”

Zuko didn’t look at her, he just gestured vaguely out to the sea. “What are you going to do now, now it’s all over? I mean... it’s just that I guess that’s what’s always defined me.” He looked down at his feet, his voice rough in his throat. “My future.”

She was silent as she gazed at him, clear blue eyes lost in thought, and he swallowed before hurriedly continuing. “So... so maybe if you figure yours out, you might get an idea?”

The future? Katara nodded thoughtfully, before suddenly freezing in place. A future. She had a future beyond the comet, beyond the painstaking, heartwrenching destiny that had been mapped out for Aang and beyond the war that had shaped her life. A future that suddenly reached out in front of her, far more expansive and frightening than she’d ever imagined.

It was logical, she thought, to want to go back to the South Pole, to her family. To wake up in the morning to furs and chores, to eat Gran-Gran’s stewed sea prunes with Sokka, to see her Father walk in at the head of a hunting group...

For a moment, that crystallised image hung in her mind like a dream, and then she watched it dissolve away into the ether. Slowly, without even realising it, Katara hung her head. It wouldn’t be like that. It couldn’t be. It would be infinitely more complex, infinitely more simple, and more importantly, infinitely different from her memories. The village would look smaller. It would feel smaller. Suki would be there, or perhaps Sokka would choose to live in the Earth Kingdom. And even though Katara loved her family, loved her village, loved the South Pole, she suddenly couldn’t think of simply returning there for the rest of her life... of just growing old, marrying, and dying on the ice floe. She wanted something more, something greater than just a return to chores and washing the warrior’s clothes and cooking with Gran-Gran. She had seen the world, she had fought and bled for it, and now she wanted to see what it could be like in peace.

Besides, there was so much more left to do. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to simply leave and go back. She wasn’t sure if, even if she wanted to, she could. Sokka wasn’t just a boy with a boomerang, now, and she certainly wasn’t a little girl with a few water-bending tricks up her sleeve. She was a Master Waterbender, the Avatar’s Waterbender, and...

And what would Aang think when he found out about Azula?

The sudden roil of uncertainty reached up from her belly and reached her throat. “I don’t know,” she said blankly. “I just don’t know.” She shifted back away from the window, from its vast promise and to Zuko. Something in her face struck him, and even though he was as uncertain as before, this time his hand stayed on her shoulder when he reached out.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, reassuringly, lopsidedly. “I guess the most important thing right now is that we have a future.”

Despite the words, there was something of a shadow in his tone, and Katara unconsciously drew herself back at the implications. They had heard from the swiftest messenger hawks earlier that day that Aang had defeated Ozai bloodlessly, had heard that the Earth Kingdom still stood and that Zuko could prepare to declare the war officially over. But here...

Here there had been blood. Spilt by her hands. And any future would be built on it.

“Yeah,” she finally said, slowly. “We have a future.”

... I wonder what it will be like.



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