Chapter Text
Chapter one - Awakening part 1
“She still hasn’t woken up, we need help, Katara.”
The waterbender paused so that the glowing water slipped into an ineffectual puddle in the saddle and she stared at the still discoloured wound.
Swallowing hard, she replaced the bandage.
She’d kept it as clean as she could, but options were limited while soaring high through the sky with the most wanted person in the world.
Laying her girlfriend’s head back on her lap meant that she no longer had to look at the injury, but she was treated to the paleness of her face, so looking at her brother on the bison’s head was a good option.
The spirit water had prevented the Avatar from succumbing to instant death, but the wound had not disappeared and, most importantly, she had not even cracked her eyes open.
“I think it may be infected,” Katara admitted, her finger once again trailing down Azula’s cheek and finding no reaction other than a strangely comforting, but strained breath, “but how are we supposed to find help in the Fire Nation colony?”
Unfortunately, after the fall of Ba Sing Se, this had been the safest direction to set off in since Lu Ten obviously did not expect them to travel towards the Fire Nation.
With the Avatar remaining unconscious, none of her team wanted to deal with the flinging of fireballs while Katara did her best to nurse her unsuccessfully back to health.
They dropped Kuei and Bosco off before passing the boundary but they were far more familiar to the world than the former Earth King so had to keep moving no matter how much they all wanted to rest on the ground.
It wouldn’t be long before they would officially pass into Fire Nation territory where no one would be allowed to help Princess Azula and it would become depressingly unlikely that they wouldn’t know her instantly.
“At this point, I think we should try our luck with the next village, we can’t wait much longer,” Toph suggested.
The earthbender had been uncharacteristically silent as Sokka for the last week, no one knew what to say the more time that passed.
Katara peered over the saddle at the land zipping by, filled with people who wanted to hurt Azula.
There would also be people who would be distraught upon learning that the Avatar Cycle could be irreparably broken even if it was a thought that had yet to occur to her as she thought more about living without Azula.
Her world would be destroyed if the Avatar never recovered from this, but she had to face the fact that it would be selfish to not at least try because she was convinced that whoever they found would inevitably try to make things somehow worse.
Reluctantly, Katara said, “I guess we can land. Appa needs the rest at least.”
“And me and Toph can scout around to make sure that it’s safe before we ask for help,” Sokka suggested encouragingly, trying not to ignite too much hope in himself.
He hadn’t found a single way to lighten the mood since Katara heaved his smoking friend onto Appa while insistently proclaiming ‘yip yip’ until Appa got them away from the city.
There wasn’t anything to joke about until he was sure that his friend would be okay and, on top of that, he had been trying to think of ways to console his sister if her girlfriend never woke up.
Nothing seemed sufficient.
Katara nodded in lieu of a verbal agreement as she returned her gaze to Azula.
Not for the first time, she considered that she had simply prolonged a painful death for the Avatar while Sokka pulled at the reins.
Katara placed a kiss on Azula’s warm forehead as Appa dropped towards the outskirts of Hira’a.
S
Zuko couldn’t close his eyes.
Being back on a swaying ship should make it easier. The ship’s destination should make it easier. The promise of restored honour should have him sleeping soundly.
As it was, each time exhaustion overtook him and he let his lids flutter shut, lightning streaked through the abyss and he sat up.
He had tried to push through it on more than one occasion, but that led to re-experiencing the moment she fell. Back to searching in vain for signs of life, a fruitless endeavour even in his own memories.
Despite his overwhelming tiredness, he sat up in his quarters, wondering whether he would be able to rest any better in the palace.
As he hoped this thought could hold him until he made it to the capital, his door opened and he reluctantly turned his head towards it.
A week ago, he would have instinctively told his uncle that he didn’t need any pep talks, but the man was bound somewhere on this ship, destined for a cell in the Fire Nation for the rest of his life.
So he had to check who it was that finally came to break his brooding spell.
Mai holding a plate was a surprise, but the only option that made sense.
Lu Ten was wholly unconcerned with the well-being of those around him now that he finally achieved his goal and could go home to inform the Fire Lord.
Ty Lee categorically refused to talk to anyone, which left only Mai.
In the past he would have felt a flutter at the sight of her, and, now that he was old enough to recognise that she felt the same way, he would have gone for it already.
Perhaps they would have shared a kiss before boarding the ship?
Following the events of Ba Sing Se, neither of them seemed worried at all about their crushes.
That didn’t mean that a part of him wasn’t happy that she was here, even if her frown was deeper than normal.
“Mai?” He asked, the word cracking under the misuse of his voice.
The nobleman’s daughter closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, awkwardly holding up the plate.
“I was waiting for you to come above board but it’s been hours. Figured you must be hungry by now. Don’t want you to starve to death before you get home,” she said sullenly.
Zuko craned his neck to better see the offering.
She’d picked everything he liked before appetite escaped him.
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, sinking back into his pillow.
Mai blew out a sigh, placing the plate onto a nearby cabinet.
She could just leave, but had to ask, “what exactly has you so…” but she trailed off, unable to think of the right word.
Zuko had an answer ready anyway:
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. It’s been so long, over three years since I was home. I wonder what’s changed. I wonder how I’ve changed.”
Mai crossed her arms, clearly, she hadn’t gotten the response that she was looking for as she replied, bitterly, “I can tell you one thing that will definitely be different.”
Zuko frowned, also crossing his arms.
He knew that Lu Ten lied to her about Azula’s circumstances, but they were now aware that there was nothing they could have done to bring her back to the right side, although Lu Ten had never really tried.
He saw no reason to make her and Ty Lee’s grief more complicated by revealing the truth of what happened on the Solstice, however. At least there were two people that still believed that Ozai was capable of unconditional love for his child.
Still, he said defensively, “she’s a traitor.”
“Was,” Mai corrected.
“What?”
“She was a traitor. Azula’s dead, right?”
She said it so neutrally, but Zuko detected resentment there, maybe remorse?
What did she have to be guilty about?!
It wasn’t like she was physically present and could have intervened!
Rather than getting into an argument about fault, Zuko closed his eyes (not reacting to streaking lightning) and said, resignedly, “Right…thanks for the food but I’m tired.”
He waited for a few seconds until he heard another sigh and the door opening.
He kept his eyes closed when as he saw his little sister’s body drop into her girlfriend’s arms.
S
“This place is weird.”
Sokka huffed but foraged further along the path pointed out to them, it felt much longer than it looked but he had to keep moving forward.
“It’s a normal village, Toph,” he said, not really trying to put much confidence behind his words.
“With no guards at all? This close to the Fire Nation?” Toph prodded, “Everyone in the village was way too relaxed…”
Sokka ran his hand over his face as the farm came into view.
There were no hints of scorching that blighted the rest of the world, just like the village itself.
There were no frowns on the faces indicating that they were worried about their child currently at war, that they were worried about where their next meal would be coming from.
Even if it was because they were part of the Fire Nation, they were too happy to give him and Toph directions to the closest thing that they had to a healer.
It was all too easy, so the warrior was fully prepared to find that they were walking right into a trap.
After parting Katara with her rubbing a cloth across her girlfriend’s forehead, he determined that they could no longer be picky.
“That merchant said that the people who live here will help us, we have to try,” he replied, stopping only because a small hand circled his wrist.
He felt as though the dim eyes were boring into his soul, telling him that there was something else entirely they were discussing and he, unfortunately, knew what it was.
It was not a conversation they were able to have abord their flying bison and he couldn’t deny the young girl the chance that she desperately needed judging by her tight grip.
“Azula will be fine, Toph,” he said, “these people will help her and everything will go back to normal.”
“What if…” Toph chewed at her lip, course-correcting to words that she could say aloud, “Are you sure?”
Sokka sighed, not even allowing himself to drift into a possible reality where there was no Avatar as he replied, “Yes I am, she has to be.”
Toph released the warrior, who set off towards their destination while she took a moment to hang her head.
Sokka had been lying.
Despite her disappointment, she rushed to catch up in time to feel the vibrations as his knuckles rapped successively against the farmhouse’s door.
The response came quickly in the form of the door creaking open and the man who appeared had a spike in his heart rate until he took in the teenagers.
Other than that, he was completely unremarkable, much like everyone else they’d met in this weird little colony village.
“Can I help you?” The farmer asked, kindly.
“Err…” Sokka said, taking a moment to assess whether their final hope was viable until he realised again that there was not much choice anymore, “our friend…well she got hurt. We were told at the market that you might be able to help…”
The man nodded, “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how to help, but I’m sure my wife would be able to fix your friend right up in no time. She’s at the market right now, but you can set your friend up in the backroom for when she gets back.”
Toph could feel the breath her companion was holding in, it was the answer he wanted, but he was still worried.
“Thank you, sir,” Sokka replied, eager to run back and get Azula and Katara.
“Please, call me Ikem,” he said, his smile inciting a certain intangible hope in Sokka that allowed him to let go of the breath.
“Thank you, Ikem,” Sokka said, clasping his hand before leading Toph back towards Appa at a high speed.
Ikem watched them go, still wearing his smile.
He had no doubt Ursa would help anyone who needed it, but maybe this could be the exact distraction from her grief that she needed right now?
S
On a balcony overlooking the Fire Nation’s gathered citizens, two women stood prepared to project their voices out to the rapt audience.
The people of the capital were also eager to learn whatever it was that their Fire Lord ordered to be announced to them, with one of the returning heroes already standing proudly overlooking them.
No one dared to mutter how they believed him to have been slain long ago, that would have what until they were in the safety of their own homes.
The twin sisters, Lo and Li, were on either side of the balcony, calling out the silent masses:
“Your honourable Prince Lu Ten disguised himself as the enemy and entered the Earth Kingdom’s Capital. In Ba Sing Se, he found his cousin Zuko and they faced the Avatar…” Li called out, her sister joining her to finish:
“And the Avatar fell! And the Earth Kingdom fell!”
Cheering masked the murmurs regarding how they thought the princess to be the Avatar.
As this died down, Li said, “Lu Ten’s agents quickly overtook the entire city. They went to Ba Sing Se’s great walls and they brought them down! The armies of the Fire Nation surged through the walls and swarmed over Ba Sing Se, securing our victory.”
“And now our heroes have returned home!” Lo joined in to announce, both of them gesturing to the older prince.
“Your Prince Lu Ten!” the crowd cheered loudly, “and after three long years…Zuko!”
Lu Ten twisted his head to watch his cousin emerge onto the balcony, maintaining his ever-charming grin.
Zuko didn’t need to look to know how fake it was, nor did he try and hide his worry upon being greeted so enthusiastically by his father’s people.
He couldn’t enjoy something that he didn’t deserve.
S
Ursa hated this place.
She hated every guard, every insignia, every fake smile.
She hated that she couldn’t allow anyone to see her hatred and not a day went by when she didn’t consider running away and pretending that none of this ever happened.
She’d even read somewhere about a spirit that would change faces for a price, one that she was confident that Ikem would be willing to pay with her.
That fantasy never went passed a flitting notion, however, because she didn’t hate everything about this life that she had been forced to live.
There were two people in this palace that she couldn’t hate under any circumstances she loved them enough to quash any thoughts of the perfect, rural experience she could have led.
For her son and daughter, she could look past the exhausting duties that came with being married to a prince and right now was the perfect opportunity to remind herself of the affection that kept her here.
After a mind-numbing morning of greeting arriving nobles, she had some free time and was naturally drawn to the garden where she knew that Zuko and Azula were likely playing after their classes.
As she closed in on her destination, she was proven right by a shriek that had her speeding up.
“Zuko!” she heard while exiting out into her favourite place in this entire city.
On this occasion, she didn’t get to breathe in the fire lilies as she attempted to puzzle out the source of the shriek.
It was her nine-year-old nephew that had admonished her son, who was standing over his sniffling sister atop a jutting-out rock.
Azula was clutching at her knee.
“She cheated,” Zuko defended.
“You didn’t have to push her down!” Lu Ten argued, about to go over to help his cousin up, but stopped upon finding that they had an audience.
“Auntie Ursa,” he said and Zuko and Azula both looked up to the archway to find their mother, Zuko’s eyes widening and Azula clutching her knee more tightly and pouting.
Ursa sighed and crossed into the scene, this was not what she envisioned when she rushed to see her children.
She dropped down in front of the princess and asked, “did Zuko push you down Azula?”
“Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Zuko said, edging away.
The five-year-old shrugged but sniffed so Ursa gently moved her small fingers to find undeniable evidence, a scrapped knee.
Lightly, she placed her palm over it and said, “I know it hurts, but if you let me clean it, it will feel a lot better, okay my love?”
Azula nodded, finally using her voice, tainted by sniffling, “okay mommy.”
Helping her to stand, Ursa took her daughter’s hand and said, sternly, “do not go anywhere young man, we’re going to talk about this as soon as we get back.”
Zuko could only nod, not used to being told off by this particular parent.
As she led Azula away, she didn’t notice the dirty look Zuko shot at his cousin.
She was enjoying the tight grip on the young girl’s hand.
“Mommy?”
Ursa blinked, the palace garden melting into a less elaborate, but no less beautiful, area. At least to her.
Another small hand was currently clasped in her own and she felt a burst of guilt upon realising that she had been ignoring Kiyi’s babbling in favour of thinking about Azula.
An increasingly regular occurrence over the last week.
She just couldn’t stop searching her memory for indications that her daughter was the Avatar, that she’d willingly failed her so completely.
Unfortunately, Kiyi’s trusting gaze wasn’t helping her intense grief, which only increased her guilt further.
How was it that everything had become so complicated?!
Plastering on a smile and adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder, she stopped outside the farmhouse and asked, “what’s wrong, my love?”
Kiyi tilted her head, unable to comprehend the cause of the recent dark cloud that descended upon her family.
“Can I play in the garden before lunch?” she asked.
“Of course,” Ursa replied, letting go of her hand, relieved that it wasn’t a more difficult question.
She had yet to figure out what to tell her youngest child about her half-siblings, let alone having to explain that one had killed the other.
That would involve saying it aloud.
“Stay close though, okay?” she added.
“Okay,” Kiyi said brightly, rushing off to explore what was new in her mother’s garden.
Ursa placed her hand on the door, watching Kiyi for a few moments.
She was aware that she was doing this all wrong.
Kiyi didn’t know about the past, she was too young, but she was being affected by her mother’s grief, even if she couldn’t understand.
Only a week after the news, she had no idea how she could pretend that it was okay that she lived in a world where she’d outlived her child.
It was a disbarring thought that prevented her from moving on to really through the implications that Azula was the Avatar.
That she was the one who achieved all of those tales that even reached Hira’a, but that would involve moving away from her debilitating grief into pride.
A week was not long enough for that.
The wooden structure pulled away from her palm forcing her out of the depths of her mind.
This time, she found the face of someone who fully understood what was going on with her, or maybe fully wasn’t the case?
She wasn’t sure that Ikem was completely comfortable with the fact that she had children with another man.
Yet another complication to her life!
It was comforting that she was now married to a man willing to put his feelings aside for her, however.
He’d spent hours listening to her talk about Azula, giving her an outlet.
“Hello,” she said, weakly, grateful for the way that he relieved her of the bag and gripped her hand, “Kiyi wanted to play in the garden, I’ll start her lunch…”
“I can do that,” Ikem replied, “there’s some kids in the back room. Their friend was hurt so I told them you could help them, I hope that’s okay?”
Ursa nodded without hesitation.
Just as Ikem suspected, it was the perfect distraction from every conflicting feeling she had been toiling through.
Being able to help someone could give her the bliss of temporary relief.
Pressing a peck to Ikem’s lips, she passed into the house, “thank you,” she said, softly.
With the task in mind, she strode through the house, invigorated by a purpose as she zeroed in on the room that had unofficially become her workspace.
The apothecary skills taught to her by her mother had been tainted by the fate of her first father-in-law so she had no choice but to use them to help anyone in the village that asked.
She made it to the backroom in record time but quickly discerned that her eagerness did not match well with the gloom in the room.
The three teens turned to her as soon as she pushed through the door and she was momentarily stalled, wondering why her husband hadn’t mentioned that they were Water Tribe kids along with a young Earth Kingdom girl.
It was good enough to be worth mentioning but she swiftly pushed through the surprise.
The Water Tribe girl was chewing at her nail so hard that she couldn’t even consider whether offering non-Fire Nation citizens help would breach Ozai’s terms.
Adorning an encouraging smile, her eyes flicked over to the bed, again taken aback.
They’d placed a hood over their friend’s face and she couldn’t imagine why they would, perhaps it had something to do with the nerves radiating from them?
“Hello,” she announced, approaching the table full of ingredients, “my husband tells me your friend is hurt? What happened?”
The young man exchanged a look with the girl who remarkably resembled him before he scratched at the back of his neck, “she was struck by lightning.”
“Lightning?” Ursa repeated, her hands moving independently to mix ingredients.
“Yeah…it’s a long story,” he replied.
“We think the wound is infected,” the girl added, her voice highlighting the tears that had gathered in her eyes, “please could you help her?”
“Of course,” Ursa said, hoping she sounded confident, “it shouldn’t be difficult to knock up a salve to treat the infection.”
“Great!” the boy said, stepping towards her, “we have some coins left if we can just take…”
Ursa tilted her head, “I wouldn’t need any coins, but I would need to see the wound to determine the strength that she needs.”
The boy looked to his sister again and Ursa sensed a silent argument raging until the girl ended it by resignedly removing the hood.
The phial smashed to the ground, forcing their collective attention to the healer.
“Azula,” Ursa breathed, overcome by a desire to check the strength of her pulse.
“We should go!” the boy announced.
“No!” Ursa said, throwing her hand out desperately and he froze, “please…let me help her?”
He ran his tongue over his lips and glanced at his friends, his sister was sitting on the edge of the bed, unwilling to leave the room that almost contained the solution to their problem.
“Who are you?” the other girl demanded.
Not missing a beat, Ursa replied, “My name is Ophelia, I was a servant in the palace. I’ve known Azula since the day she was born.”
“She’s telling the truth,” the Earth Kingdom girl supplied after a pause during which Ursa considered the instinctual lie.
She settled on that she didn’t know what Azula told her friends about her mother and she couldn’t risk their distrust right now.
“Okay…” the boy said, stepping aside to give her free passage, “you should look at the wound then.”
As if in a trance, Ursa was pulled over to her daughter, giving her an up-close view of her condition.
Though she was more alive than she spent the last week thinking she was, she was still obviously hurt.
She was too pale, sweaty and limp to be sleeping, but she was breathing, a fact that had Ursa holding back tears.
As she did this assessment, her daughter’s friend removed her tunic and was about to pull her up but Ursa’s eyes widened.
There was a rough patch of scarred flesh on her right shoulder that had not been there the last time she saw the Avatar.
Hollowly, she said, “what happened?”
“Yuyan Archers,” the boy at her back replied.
Ursa took in a heavy breath, “Yuyan Archers…shot her with…an arrow?” she asked, her disbelief palpable.
“Yeah…” he said, “it’s sort of an occupational hazard.”
Ursa worked very hard not to cup her daughter’s cheek at that moment, it wouldn’t be normal for a servant, even if she was mentally remembering every Yuyan Archer she ever met and wondering which one she hated.
“And…was the lightning an…occupational hazard too?” she asked.
Taking this as a cue, the girl pulled the Avatar up and removed the stained bandage.
This had Ursa forget all about the archers.
This injury was much more than a blemish.
It bloomed jaggedly across her back, the colour increasingly greenish as it moved towards the centre.
It was not at all surprising that Ozai thought the Avatar was dead.
Everything she learned told Ursa that she should be!
“Daily applications of a strong salve should clear the infection and allow this to heal properly,” Ursa said, “will you stay so I can make sure that they will work?”
The two girls were already nodding but the boy paused upon hearing giggling filtering into the room from down the hall.
“Is that your daughter?” he asked.
Ursa paused, her mind taking a moment to register who he was referring to, before she replied, “yes…”
The teen gritted his teeth as if unable to believe what he was about to say.
“Then you should know…Azula…she’s the Avatar. Your family could be in serious danger if you help her.”
His sister’s nostrils flared but she didn’t disagree.
“That won’t be a problem in this village,” Ursa replied, absently driving over to her station to mix the strongest ingredients she had available.
“Why?” he asked, now eager.
A lie to explain the lack of military presence tumbled from her mouth as she worked.
She didn’t know what she was saying, all she cared about was that Team Avatar agreed that this was the safest place in the world for her injured daughter.
It wasn’t necessary that they knew it was because she’d murdered said daughter’s grandfather.
S
Nothing had changed at all and yet everything was completely different.
The walls and decorations, the building itself, was what it had been for generations of his family and yet, Zuko felt as though he had never before stepped foot in these grandiose halls.
The only way that he could think to describe it was that the atmosphere was somehow palpable, charged with some ineffable quality that certainly had not been there before.
If it had, perhaps he wouldn’t have striven so hard to try and get back here.
As it was, he was finally making his way through the hallways of the palace of the Fire Nation’s royal family, all guards that he passed standing to attention.
Because he was their prince.
With the orders that he had received upon investigating whether he recognised the chambers that his thirteen-year-old, unblemished self had lived in, he was not concerned with the reactions of guards and servants.
He was about to have a new memory to replace the solstice, but the question was, would it be better or worse?
Stop the prince from running. The flippant command could, at last, be banished from his mind and he tried to stride with confidence as he went to find out by what, but a mix of exhaustion and nerves had him tightening his fingers into fists as two guards opened the last barrier for him.
He didn’t allow himself to pause at the threshold but did smooth down the non-existent kink in his recently acquired armour.
The heat crashed into him taking in a deep breath through his nose, hoping for some nostalgia that never came.
Flames obscured the figure that loomed high above him, but he didn’t care through the heat for long before he dropped down to his knees, bowing deeply.
The wall parted, allowing Fire Lord Ozai an unobstructed view of his son.
He smiled.
“You’ve been away for a long time. I see the weight of your travels has changed you,” he said and Zuko tilted his head up with his eyebrows drawn. Did the man not remember that he had seen him since his banishment? He didn’t dare to speak up as he continued, though, “you have redeemed yourself, my son. Welcome home!”
Zuko raised, his head still tilted downwards, but it let him see that the man appeared to be wearing a genuinely proud smile with his arms wide.
If he didn’t know better, he may have thought that he had planned to welcome him with a hug.
He knew much better than that, however, so he replied, humbly, “Thank you, father.”
Not bothering to note the strain in the teen’s voice, Ozai ploughed ahead, “I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud that when your loyalty was tested, you chose correctly. But I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishments: you slayed the Avatar.”
Involuntarily, Zuko dared to give the Fire Lord full eye contact, because he had to make sure that it wasn’t another lie that he was pretending to believe.
A part of him also had to check that he was aware that he was talking about his daughter’s death.
If he hadn’t been present on the solstice, he would have been convinced that there was no way that Ozai knew who held the mantle judging by the real pride and glee he was displaying.
It was sort of unsettling that it was being directed at him so he had to ask, “what did you hear?”
“Lu Ten told me everything, he said he was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth,” Ozai replied, not at all detecting the meaning of his son’s shock.
Zuko bowed his head again as his mouth moved in an attempt to form words, but he didn’t know what the best response was.
He should have learned by now that questioning was not what one did in the Fire Nation, but did he want the entire nation to think that he was capable of killing his little sister?
“I didn’t…” he began, so meekly that Ozai didn’t hear the attempt at telling the truth as he spoke over his son:
“I must ask, did you recover her crown? It only seems right that it is returned to my rightful heir.”
The question disarmed Zuko enough to distract him from the thought that there was a certain Fire Nation citizen he’d recently found out could be alive, one that he definitely would not want to hear Lu Ten’s lie.
One who he didn’t want to think that he had changed.
Despite his dry mouth, he replied, “I’m sorry, father, I didn’t.”
“No matter,” Ozai replied, “I will order a replacement be forged immediately. We must also ensure that…”
Zuko didn’t hear the start of the orders being issued to his father’s previously invisible advisors standing at one of the pillars.
He waited for an opening to leave as soon as possible.
S
The tiniest whimper had Ursa looking up from the cloth she had been honed in on, she’d swiftly created a salve to keep it clean.
The whimper had her lips pull up in a comforting smile even as she found Azula refusing to bring her face up.
Was the five-year-old really ashamed of something so normal?
“Does it hurt, my love?” She asked.
“No, it doesn’t,” Azula replied, resolutely shaking her head and sitting up straight.
“It’s okay to admit when you’re in pain, Azula,” Ursa encouraged as she covered the minor injury, “it means that the people who love you know when to make it better.”
The girl frowned and experimentally grazed the bandage as if to check whether it hurt.
Unfortunately, Ursa could tell she was confused, probably comparing her statement to whatever her father taught her.
The frown fell away as a kiss was placed on the injured area and she managed something resembling a smile, “thank you, mommy.”
“Anytime, my love,” Ursa replied, taking her hand to lead her back towards the scene of the crime to find Zuko at the pond, “could you play with Lu Ten for a bit?” she suggested and her nephew extended his hand.
“Come on, Zu, I’ll show you the new forms my dad taught me,” he said, and his cousin readily ran over to him.
Ursa shared a grateful smile with Lu Ten before going to the pond to take a seat.
Zuko turned away and continued to splash at the water, careful not to disturb the turtle ducks.
“She cheated,” he said under his breath, “I didn’t mean to hurt her…”
Ursa sighed, placing her palm onto his back so that he finally looked up at her and she was relieved to find true guilt gazing back at her.
“I know that you didn’t mean to, Zuko,” she replied, not really sounding admonishing, but her disappointment was palpable, “but you still did. She’s your sister, you shouldn’t hurt her.”
Zuko breathed in deeply and replied, “I’m sorry mom, I promise I won’t do it again.”
“I don’t think that it’s me who deserves your apologies, Zuko,” she replied.
The young prince nodded and dashed off in search of his cousin and sister and Ursa crossed her legs, ready to enjoy the peace before her next royal obligation.
Zuko hadn’t listened.
As Ursa’s salve-covered cloth dug into the ridges of the lightning-induced injury, she couldn’t see how she could have possibly taken her words to heart.
Not if he was capable of doing this to his little sister.
She chewed her lip as she removed the cloth and quickly replaced the bandage, not wanting to dwell on how little it had changed after a day of treatment.
Instead, she placed her back down on the pillow so that she could finally cup her cheek.
Now that she was alone with her, she was finally able to take in the insane reality that her daughter was laid out in front of her.
That she was alive, even if severely hurt.
Quietly, she said, “I’m so sorry, darling.”
She received no response.
Footsteps had her remove her hand, though, before Katara could see what was happening.
She stood as casually as she could and collected her equipment that would only have to come back out later that day.
The waterbender came around to the bed, disappointed as ever to find no change and asked, “Has anything changed yet?”
“It’s too early to tell, I’m sorry,” ‘Ophelia’ replied, “after a few days, I should be able to tell whether or not it’s working.”
Katara sighed but nodded in understanding and reluctantly moved on to her next question, “Sokka was just wondering whether we could ask you something…is now a good time?”
“Of course,” Ursa replied tiredly, knowing that there wasn’t much that she would deny these children after they brought her daughter back to her.
S
“Kiyi is asking about the Water Tribe warriors again,” Ikem announced, yawning, “perhaps they could be quieter?”
He pushed into his bedroom, but all complaints were banished. It was difficult to worry about the growing community of Water Tribe men gathering on their farm upon finding his wife pacing back and forth, wringing her hands roughly with each turn.
He already knew there was no way to dissuade her from allowing Sokka to invite their forces a week ago, not when she was doing it for Azula.
Under the decree that made Hira’a the most peaceful place in the Fire Nation, it was also the safest for the people preparing to fight for the Avatar.
Not that any of them were sure what to do as they waited for his step-daughter to wake up, beyond adorning appropriately inconspicuous Fire Nation garb.
The town was grateful enough to Ursa not to ask too many questions around anyway.
The woman was currently muttering out ingredients that Item didn’t recognise, but he could guess what they were used for.
Closing the door behind him, he came over and took her hands and wrenching her attention away from the spiral of panic gripping at her.
“Has she still not woken up?” Ikem asked, despite already knowing the answer.
Ursa took her hands back and dropped heavily to the end of their bed, sniffing while shaking her head.
“Her fever has finally gone down, but she can’t seem to wake up. I…just don’t know what else I can do…”
Perching beside his wife, Ikem asked, “Have you considered asking your mother’s opinion?”
Ursa dropped her face into her hands and cracked, “it’s not exactly how I imagined her meeting her granddaughter.”
Ikem period her hands away to look softly into her eyes to receive sleep-deprived bleariness there.
“But you know that’s exactly why she will want to help…how often has she said that she wishes that she could have met Azula and Zu…”
He clamped his mouth shut as Ursa’s lips twisted into a confused grimace.
Zuko as a topic was still off-limits.
She couldn’t reconcile the sleepy boy she’d last seen as the young man who could have caused such damage to his little sister’s body.
It wasn’t like she could tell him off as she did after the scraped knee incident. Obviously, he hadn’t taken her edict to never hurt his sister again to heart.
She’d always thought there was nothing her children could do to affect how she felt about them, but if Azula didn’t wake up…well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
Ikem swiftly found a way to change the subject to something that sounded hopeful in his mind, “is it possible that her issue is…Avatar-related?”
Ursa dragged her gaze to her husband and, squinting, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well…isn’t the Avatar…the bridge between the Spirit World and the physical world? Maybe…the normal treatments won’t work?” he asked, stumbling over his flimsily-formed theory.
“I suppose…it’s possible…” Ursa replied, sceptically.
Regular methods had never failed before, but no one had ever dared to significantly hurt the princess before now.
A scrapped knee was a far cry from a lightning strike.
“You could ask your mother? Perhaps her father mentioned something?”
“I don’t think anything like this ever happened to Avatar Roku,” Ursa sighed, “but I’ll go and see her in the morning.”
Ikem smiled weakly as his wife accepted a one-armed hug, allowing him to feel exactly how tense she was.
“She’ll be okay, you know that right?” he reassured.
“How can you know that?” Ursa asked, tears escaping again her husband’s shoulder. Tears that ‘Ophelia’ had to hold in whole she had Team Avatar as an audience.
“It’s…destiny, right?” Ikem replied.
“Destiny?”
“I mean…what are the odds that you would be in the town that her friends chose at random? Obviously, the Avatar was…” Ikem started.
Ursa cut him off by springing out of his grip and to her feet.
“Don’t call her that!” she snapped.
“Ursa,” Ikem sighed, also standing to stop the renewal of her pacing by taking both of her hands.
“I’m not helping Azula because she’s the Avatar!” Ursa said adamantly.
Ignoring her furious indignation, Ikem replied, “I know that…”
"She won’t…” Ursa admitted, “I…abandoned her to help…Zuko…”
“You said that was a secret,” Ikem argued, forcing her to sit back down while she shook her head solemnly.
The woman sniffed, “she would have figured out exactly what happened if he didn’t tell her. If…when she wakes up, she will have every reason to hate me.”
“Ozai swore no harm would come to either of them, you believed you were doing the best things for them,” Ikem pointed out, almost desperately.
“And look at well that ended!” Ursa exploded, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her fatally injured daughter.
“You couldn’t have known, Ursa,” he insisted, “if there were signs she was the Avatar, you wouldn’t have left.”
Ursa closed her eyes, seeing the small girl performing exquisite forms for Fire Lord Azulon.
Showing off all her skill and effort reserved for impressing her father and grandfather.
Of all the thousand possibilities, she doubted that anyone would select their princess to be the Avatar destined to betray her nation and face her own father.
None of that changed the reality.
She had left the person that the Fire Lord wanted dead most in the world in his sole care for five years.
“I knew he wanted to hurt Zuko,” she said slowly, “I should have never taken his word. He always lies.”
Ikem thought straight away of a thousand defences.
That she had been taken away from her home. That she was forced into a marriage with a man that she didn’t love. That she deserved to be happy.
He knew he couldn’t say any of them.
No matter what, it wasn't her children's fault that Ozai was their father.
This was why he settled on the least comforting of the options:
“Try and get some sleep, my love, I have every faith that your mother will know how to help.”
Ursa inclined her head as he pulled their blanket down in preparation for sleep.
By the way that she was chewing at her bottom lip, he could tell that she was, once again, destined for a restless night.
S
“Are you saying that my granddaughter is here?” Rina asked, her chair creaking as the elderly woman sat forward in it, eagerly.
In the other chair facing her, Ursa grasped her hands so that the veins popped out.
It was the day after her conversation with her husband and she dutifully followed his advice, not without checking in on Azula first to find her as heartbreakingly unmovable as every other day.
She really thought that explaining everything would be more difficult, but Rina was not at all deterred.
If anyone were to understand, maybe it was the daughter of an Avatar?
“Yes she is, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, mother,” she replied, trying to keep her hands from shaking. It was only now occurring to her that Rina was about to see how utterly she had failed her first children, that she couldn’t help her daughter, “she won’t wake up, I don’t know what else to do…”
A wrinkled hand covered her own and she found her mother smiling at her sadly.
Of all the people she knew, it was Rina who had the most practice with the pain of being parted from her child, maybe she could understand in a way that Ikem simply did not have the experience to do so?
Still, she didn’t quite know what to do with the excitement the older woman displayed upon hearing her granddaughter’s name.
She could say, without a shadow of a doubt in her mind, that she loved Azula with her entire being.
However, she also knew that there was a reason that she unconsciously favoured Zuko, a fact that she didn’t accept until long after Kiyi was born.
It was absolutely not Azula’s fault that she mirrored her father’s personality and values, but Ursa was still worried that Rina would have a more difficult time connecting with her than with Kiyi.
Granted, a lot had changed over five years. Did she really know anything about Avatar Azula?
“We’ll find a way, darling,” Rina replied, using her other hand to reach for her walking stick, “I would very much like to meet her.”
Ursa dragged her teeth over her lip, but helped her mother to her feet, allowing the older woman to hold onto her arm as they made their way towards Ikem’s farm.
The closer they got, however, the less support the woman seemed to need.
Ursa did not comment, she was too nervous.
She didn’t know what she would do if her mother didn’t know what to do. If she couldn’t get Azula to wake up instantly.
By the time they got to the back room, Rina had fully let go of her arm in anticipation but was confused as they entered the space to another girl leant over the bed, dragging a cloth over the occupant’s forehead. Ursa remembered she had neglected to mention the people who brought Azula to her.
She wouldn’t know what to call Katara anyway.
‘Friend’ didn’t feel strong enough based on what she’d witnessed, but she couldn’t worry about her daughter’s love life until she was capable of opening her eyes and telling her herself.
“Dad got here yesterday,” Katara said, oblivious to her audience, “I don’t know how I…it’s just weird after all this time…”
Her hand paused before returning to the patient and she cautiously looked over her shoulder, instantly putting a stop to whatever she was about to do.
“Ophelia, I was just…” she tried, not picking up on the sudden frown from the older woman who had joined the healer.
“It’s okay, darling,” Ursa replied, wishing that she could admit that she could never have a problem with someone caring so much about her daughter, how it warmed her heart to know that Azula had found people who so obviously would feel as she would should she never wake up, “I’ve asked my mother to give her opinion on Azula’s condition if you wouldn’t mind…”
Katara looked at the older woman and nodded enthusiastically.
She resisted whatever she wanted to do when she briefly turned back towards the Avatar and exited the room.
Once Katara had vacated, Rina passed over the floor so that she stood over the bed to get a good look at the teen lying across it.
Instantly, she knew that she loved her, she was just too familiar not to if she ignored the curve of her nose and some of the more minute parts of the facial structure that didn’t come from her side of the family.
Her elation also required not taking in the signs that she was not sleeping.
Reverently, she said, “she looks just like you did at her age.”
Ursa’s arms were crossed, her mouth twisted downwards as she said, quietly, “at her age, I was not being hunted by my father.”
Rina, unable to think of a way to comfort her beyond spouting her hatred for her first son-in-law, sat down tentatively on the side of the bed, gesturing for her daughter to follow suit.
The older woman used the opportunity of the moment's delay to get a better look at her eldest granddaughter, proudly ruminating on how thrilled her father would be to discover that there was another Avatar in his line.
Or perhaps he already knew?
The surreal possibility that the girl had already communicated with the late Roku only made her want to formally meet her all the more.
Ursa disrupted this train of thought by gathering the young Avatar into her arms and pulling her upwards, enjoying the steady breathing the position allowed.
Her mother removed the bandages to complete her assessment.
Rina cringed at the violence of the wound, even in its more healed state, and Ursa bit the inside of her cheek hard until the older woman announced, “it seems to be healing well, there are no signs of infection. This injury is severe, Ursa. I believe it requires patience.”
Ursa closed her eyes with a tired sigh and dropped her nose against her daughter’s hair that was the longest she had ever seen it.
Before she could say that patience could not be the solution, in this case, a pick up in the breathing beneath her had her eyes shooting open as she dropped Azula slowly back onto the pillow.
For the first time, her features moved.
The princess’s brow scrunched and her eyes cracked to reveal bleary ember, enough for Ursa to confirm that she had not forgotten the shade.
She pressed her palm into her cheek and breathed out, “Azula, darling, you have no idea how glad I am to see you’re awake.”
The Avatar seemed to make eye contact with her mother for only a second, but her eyelids fell closed and she mumbled something that sounded very much like, “I don’t want to go back to the swamp, mommy,” before she returned to unconsciousness.
If it weren’t for the last word, Ursa would have been intensely confused by the statement.
As it was, her heart was between breaking and melting as she stared at her daughter.
S
Zuko’s muscles remembered every corner of the palace, they knew where to go even if he had no rationale for the places he was searching.
The garden was empty, as was the training room.
If he were eleven again, his next choice certainly would have been Iron’s favourite tea spot, but that was just a flat-out waste of time now.
The library didn’t feel natural but it couldn’t hurt to try.
The guard unquestioningly pulled the doors open for the prince, the sound reverberating throughout the seemingly empty room.
He could almost see Azula sitting cross-legged in her favourite seat, studying to humiliate him at their next audience with the Fire Lord.
Maybe Lu Ten had picked up a smilier habit during his time away?
Even if he was sitting on the other end of the table surrounded by scrolls, some of the titles were familiar to him from his own history lessons.
He didn’t dwell on this for long as he slipped into the seat opposite his cousin, who glanced up before returning to his studies.
“Is there something you need, Zuko?” He asked distractedly.
Zuko double-checked that there were no guards in ear-shot before asking, “why did you do it?”
Lu Ten sighed, laying his palms onto the scrolls, “do what?” he asked.
“Tell my father that I…that I’m the one who…”
“Killed Azula?” Lu Ten supplied naturally as Zuko winced, “if you want people to believe that it was you, you should work on saying the words.”
Why would I want them to think that?” Zuko hissed.
“You know, I figured you’d be grateful,” the older prince replied, “without the little lie, you wouldn’t be here.”
“And you expect me to believe that was what you wanted?” Zuko asked, lowly.
“Is it a crime to care about my cousin?” Lu Ten replied, but the facade swiftly crumbled into a laugh as the irony hit him, “fine, if you must know, your father’s orders were clear, he wanted her alive so that he could be the one to end it. I didn’t see any way that would happen. I figured he’s reasonable enough not to expect you to know what he wanted. It’s win-win really.”
Zuko gripped the edge of the table and bit back, “And what if you were mistaken?”
Lu Ten shrugged, lounging back into his chair, “well, you can’t be more banished, right?”
Zuko’s mouth formed a thin line, the chair scraping harshly through the library as he stormed away.
Lu Ten laughed again and plucked up one of the scrolls.
S
“Azula will wake up.”
The circle of water splashed back into the creek and Katara looked towards the hill that obscured the farmhouse, squinting against the mid-day sun.
For a second, she thought the reassurance belonged to a much older warrior but was relieved to find someone who she could much more easily talk to.
Despite what was going on with his friend, Sokka had been lighter than he had been in years and it wasn’t hard to guess why not when he left a small community of tents filled with Water Tribe men.
The men happily clapped him on the back as soon as they arrived, congratulating him on finding a place so close to the Fire Nation with such a strategic advantage.
Katara had rebuffed any praise directed at her, especially from one particular source.
She couldn’t be happy to be reunited, not when she was acutely aware of what had brought them to this point.
“I know that,” she replied as her brother came to sit beside the creek.
“Then why are you angry bending instead of having lunch with dad?” Sokka shot back.
“I’m not…” Katara started, but trailed off as she looked down to the water that hadn’t flowed naturally under her hand since it happened, “It’s been three weeks since she…I miss her…”
“I do too, Katara, but she’s not gone,” Sokka replied and somehow sensing the pain she felt made the waterbender look up to also see it on his face, “Ophelia is doing everything she can and you even said that she’s a lot better than she was. She’ll wake up anytime now.”
Katara hummed moving over to the shore to join her brother, hugging her knees closely.
“Do you think there’s something off about Ophelia?” Katara asked.
Sokka frowned, “What do you mean? She’s been helping Azula…”
“I don’t know, there’s just something…She seems to really care about her…”
“She said she’s known Azula since she was born, you know what royalty is like, she probably spent more time with her than she did with her own mother,” Sokka reasoned.
“I guess,” Katara sighed.
A silence passed between the siblings before Sokka asked, “do you know what her mom did?”
“She never talked about it,” Katara replied, “why?”
Sokka leaned back, enjoying the breeze on his face, “I guess I just can’t imagine what she could have done that could be worse than Ozai…”
“All I know is that she left,” Katara replied, bitterly, “I can understand why she wouldn’t want to talk about that…”
Sokka drew his brows together and began, “Katara…dad had to…”
Katara scrunched her eyes shut, realising her folly, but was saved by the approach of the youngest member of their team.
Toph was out of breath, but didn’t let this deter her from calling, “come on guys!”
Sokka stood, his eyes widened, “what’s wrong, Toph?”
“Nothing! Azula’s waking up!”