![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizbeeTitle: Your Treasure Spent
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Characters: Aang, Azula, Mai; Aang/Katara, Mai/Zuko, Azula/Ty Lee, Azula/OMC, Mai/OMC
Rating: R, mostly for violence and politics
Warning(s): (highlight to reveal) Major character death; violence; underage arranged marriage; casual sex under the influence of alcohol; psychological abuse; mental illness
Part 1 |
The monks used to say that autumn was the season of the Air Nomads, the time when our bending was strongest. After we left Kyoshi Island and turned south, the air turned colder and the sky bluer, and it was all familiar.
"Feel that, buddy?" I said to Appa, running my hands through his fur, bracing myself against the pitch and roll of the ship. "That's the polar wind taking us home."
He rumbled happily.
"Really," said Toph, appearing behind me. She walked carefully, her hands held in front of her. She had put off donning the fur boots for as long as possible, but on a wooden ship, there wasn't much earth for her feet to see anyway. "I thought it was Sokka and Suki. Again."
"Again?"
Toph climbed into Appa's saddle.
"Every night since we left Kyoshi Island. And every morning. And in the afternoons, if Sokka's not busy. And those little cabins aren't exactly soundproof." She found the blanket I had been sleeping under and wrapped it around herself. "I'm just glad we're not on land, so I only have to hear it."
"It's not just because I like the open air that I've been sleeping with Appa," I admitted.
"I wish I didn't feel the cold."
It was another week before we reached the Southern Water Tribe. I almost didn't recognise it when I spotted it from Appa's back. The tiny village had become a bustling little town. There were Northern ships in the harbour, and Sokka's watchtower had been replaced by a high tower of ice. Pakku's waterbenders had done good work.
I could have landed, but I wasn't ready to face their Gran-Gran on my own. I turned Appa around and went back to Hakoda's fleet. I wanted to fly away and keep flying until we wound up somewhere new, but I wasn't that kid anymore.
Maybe the others felt the same hesitation, because when we did land, Sokka hung back, holding Suki's hand and looking nervous.
"Practically the last thing Gran-Gran told me was to look after Katara," he said.
"Come on, son." Hakoda led him off the ship, and we followed.
The changes seemed even more pronounced from the ground. There was a sense of life and movement here, and it wasn't just because of the newcomers from the North. There was a big communal igloo in the centre of the village, and even some of the family homes looked larger than I remembered. This time, when the entire village gathered to meet us, I counted about fifty people.
Gran-Gran stood in the centre of the cluster, moving forward to greet us. She caught Hakoda in a rough hug that nearly knocked him off his feet, though he was twice her size.
"My son," she said, releasing him. "And Sokka."
"Gran-Gran." There was a muffled sob in Sokka's voice, and he let her stroke his hair. Straightening up, he wiped his eyes and said, "Gran-Gran, this is Suki of Kyoshi Island." He took Suki's hand again, which made her bow awkward, but Gran-Gran smiled.
"Come inside," she said, "out of the cold."
She greeted Pakku with a squeeze of his hand as he passed, then turned to me.
"Avatar," she said. I braced myself for her blame, but she just touched my shoulder and sent me inside with the rest.
"She sounds nice," Toph whispered, clinging to my hand.
"She banished me once," I told her, "but I kind of deserved it. Watch out for the dead animal skins on the floor. They're sort of," I caught Toph as she tripped, "thick."
That night there was a feast, heavy on the sea prunes. And the squid. And the sea crabs. I filled up on seaweed bread and wondered if I could convince myself that krill was more vegetable than animal. Afterwards, Gran-Gran poured tiny glasses of liquor from a black bottle, one for everyone, even Toph and I. There was no toast, but I thought of Katara as I drank, and I didn't think I was the only one.
The next day, we had the funeral.
It was the custom in the South Pole to lay a body out on the ice and lay out stones to protect it from animals. We had no body, but we built a wall of stone anyway. The wind froze my tears.
We -- Katara's family -- were the last to leave. Finally, Pakku and Hakoda persuaded Gran-Gran to return to the village.
Sokka said, "Our mom used to tell us that if you dream about a dead person, it means they don't want to leave. So you should give that person's name to a newborn."
Suki and Toph both winced. They had pretty strong taboos about using the names of the dead in the Earth Kingdom.
Before we left, I approached the stone memorial once more. The rock was icy as I touched it.
It was the simplest bit of earthbending to rearrange the surface of the stone to form the characters of Katara's name. Sokka nodded. "It's good," he said.
We went inside.
The Southern Water Tribe didn’t have much room for people who couldn't work. Suki joined the hunters, and started teaching the women to fight. Sokka spent most of his time with his father, hunting and sailing and learning the skills he'd need to become a tribal chief. Even Toph, who rarely went outside if she could avoid it, found herself playing with the kids. They brought her stones, which she shaped into animals or people. I saw one little girl playing with a tiny copy of the Earth King and his bear.
Me -- well, I played with the children, and helped the waterbenders, and watched Pakku teaching the two kids who had been identified as possible benders. I kept busy. Toph started teaching me metalbending, although it was even harder than learning to bend earth. I ate a lot of sea prunes. I got used to the taste after a while, but the texture was just wrong.
People tried to ask me about the war. Some of the warriors wanted to go back. Others felt they had neglected their families for too long. A few of the women wanted to sail out with the men next time. Most people seemed think that, with Ozai gone and the Fire Nation quiet for now, we could afford to rest. Hakoda and Sokka disagreed, but they were tired.
I was tired, too. Some nights I dreamed that I was Ozai, and then I'd lie awake in the cold darkness, wondering if they were nightmares or memories. It had been easier in Ba Sing Se, where I could open my glider and fly until I was too exhausted to dream, but this wasn't a place where you could just slip out for a few hours in the middle of the night. Going out alone here was an easy way to die.
Sometimes I dreamed of Azula, looking down at her with a mixture of affection and contempt. But when I woke up from those dreams, I was always angry. Angry because she had killed my friends. Angry because she hadn't made Zuko's choices. I couldn't be detached when I thought of her, so I shoved her to the back of my mind and changed the subject whenever the war was raised.
No one blamed me for Katara's death. Maybe it hadn't occurred to them yet that she'd probably be alive and okay if I'd never turned up.
"Or maybe," said Toph when I finally admitted this to her, "they think there are a lot more people who'd be dead if she hadn't found you. Like most of the Earth Kingdom." Clad from top to bottom in furs so that only her mouth was visible, she looked like a very small, upright air bison.
"So basically," she continued, "you're worrying because no one's thinking about you as they grieve. And don't take this the wrong way, Twinkletoes, but not even Zuko was that self-centred." She paused. "Well, most of the time."
"You know, Toph, you're pretty wise."
"Damn straight. Where are these penguins?"
I pointed her in the right direction. "Trust me," I said, "penguin sledding is the very best thing about the South Pole. You're going to love it."
At the bottom of the hill, after I dug her out of the snow, she grabbed me by the collar and stuffed snow down my top.
"That," she said, "was even worse than flying. I hate the cold, and I hate not being able to see, and I'm sick of all the good, solid rocks being covered by snow." She stopped to draw breath, but it turned into a sob.
"I'm sick of thinking of really good ways to annoy Katara, and then her not being around," she said. "And everyone goes on about how sweet and clever and kind she was--"
"She was!"
"Yeah, but she was also a big fat pain in the butt." Toph sniffled. "I really miss that."
"Yeah," I said, "me too."
After Toph's outburst, I figured it was just a matter of time until she asked me and Appa to take her back to the Earth Kingdom. I hadn't counted on Sokka.
"Look at this," he said, thrusting a scroll into Toph's hands.
"Wow, Sokka. It's paper. That's amazing."
"Oh, right. Well, it's a plan. I," he puffed out his chest, "have had an idea."
"We're doomed," Suki muttered, but we all crowded around to look.
"Is it a house?" Suki asked.
"Is that the floor?" I asked. "Is it meant to lift up?"
"Yes," said Sokka, and he told us his plan.
We used a dogsled to get out to the quarry. Appa rumbled in dismay, but he wasn't really built for hauling rocks. And Momo nearly discovered the hard way that wolf-dogs didn't like to be ridden, and spent the rest of the day sulking in the hood of Sokka's parka.
It took me about an hour to air- and waterbend the snow away from the biggest, flattest rocks. I used firebending to clear the ice that remained, and to warm the rocks, then Toph pulled her mukluks off and jumped down onto the stone.
"Oh yeah," she said, stretching her toes. "This is the stuff."
We bent big, square slabs of stone onto the dogsled. Toph didn't put her mukluks back on until the last possible moment.
By the evening, we’d laid the foundations. The walls took another day: they were stone, with snow packed between layers of rock for insulation.
When it was done, we had a house. Or a room, anyway. A big room. We let Toph go in first.
She circled slowly, nodding thoughtfully, then pulled off her mukluks.
"Sokka," she said, "you are a genius."
The floor consisted of two layers of stone. The top layer consisted of tiles that could be lifted, with room beneath them for coal or seaweed or - really, anything that would smoulder. But for now, firebending alone had heated the floor.
"Oh yeah," said Sokka. "Am I good? I'm good, aren't I?"
Toph was a lot happier after that, and we all unofficially moved into her house. Momo could be relied on to find the warmest slab of rock, and even Appa seemed to like sleeping close to this little piece of warmth. Time seemed to slow here: we seemed safe from the war, families were reunited, people were healing.
I needed to move on.
I woke up one morning and realised it was three days since the Autumn equinox, and I was thirteen years old. Or one hundred and thirteen. And I had been away too long. People were too close here. It was hard to be alone. Even in Ba Sing Se, I'd found space to just sit and be silent. I missed the way Mai would drink tea with me in the evenings, the way she'd sit with me without speaking.
I didn't have many belongings to pack. Sokka and the others found me loading Appa.
"It's not forever," I said. "Just for a few weeks. Or months, maybe. I need to go to the Southern Air Temple for a while."
"On your own?" I'd never noticed before, but Sokka sounded a lot like Katara when he worried.
"Don't be silly," I said. "Appa and Momo will be with me."
"You -- you." Sokka gave up and pointed at Momo. "You look after him, you hear?" Momo chittered.
If Toph didn't break one of my ribs when she hugged me, it wasn't for lack of trying. "Look after yourself," she said roughly.
"Take care," added Suki.
Sokka hesitated, then swept me into a tight, rough hug. "Send Momo to let us know how you are," he said. "If we don't hear from you, I'll walk up that mountain myself to find you."
I nodded. I didn't think I could speak just then. Sokka seemed to understand.
I jumped onto Appa's neck. "I promise," I managed to say, "I'll be fine." I took the reins. "Yip yip."
They fell away beneath me, and I didn't look back. "Let's go home," I told Appa.
I found my father on the training grounds, haranguing the Imperial Weapons Master. Master Jiao stopped and bowed when he saw me approach, and the servants dropped to their knees.
My father merely turned his head and smiled, still holding Jiao's latest creation.
"Good morning, Azula," he said.
"Leave us," I told Jiao and the rest. I waited until we were alone. It wouldn't do to let them see my anger. It wouldn't do.
When we had privacy I said, "You might have told me yourself. I had to find out from Li and Lo."
Father braced the gun against his shoulder and fired. The projectile did not quite hit the target.
"Your aim is off," I said. "Or is it the weapon that's inferior?"
He looked like Zuko when he was angry. I felt reckless and untouchable. "Is this how you serve me," I pushed, "bartering me off to your cronies' sons?"
"You need to marry," he said. "Captain Chan Li is able and honourable, and his father controls the Eastern Fleet. He's even a young man."
"Thirty," I said. "I met his younger brother once. I kissed him, then we burned down his house."
I might have declared my intention to find and marry the Earth King, for all my father cared. He took aim and fired again. "Azula," he said, in the tone he used to speak to children, or Zuko, "you need the support of the Navy, and you need an heir. Quickly."
I'm barely fifteen, I wanted to say.
Instead, I said, "The Fire Navy's support should be unquestioned."
"With Admiral Chan's son as your consort, it will be." He turned his back on me, all of his attention on his weapon.
This wasn't the way to treat a Fire Lord. It wasn't even the way to treat a princess. I felt a surge of anger and channeled it into my fingertips, letting the raw power surge through my body and emerge as lightning.
My father turned back to look at me as the training ground exploded around us.
He smiled.
I left him standing there in the wreckage, and went to sit in the garden.
"You know what he does with the weapons that don't work the way he wants," Zuko told me. Or at least, I heard his voice, but when I looked around, I was alone except for my guards.
My initial anger was giving way to something else, something cold and unfamiliar. Li and Lo had brought me the news as I dressed, and at first I thought they were joking. My marriage was not my father's to contract, and I wouldn't have chosen such a minor family, regardless of how many fleets they controlled. The Navy problem was mine to solve, just as my marriage was mine to make, and Father had taken control of both.
It would have been easier if the Avatar had killed him. I hated myself for thinking it, but the notion persisted. Even without his bending, my father was a powerful force in the Fire Nation. Had he been anyone else, I would have ordered him assassinated, as a warning to those who thought they could eclipse the Fire Lord.
But he was my father, and I trusted him, however much I resented his interference.
("Trust?" my mother had whispered in my ear, late at night. "In Ozai? I thought you understood people, Azula." She lied. Of course she lied. My mother always lied to me.)
The betrothal had been organised without my knowledge or consent. I could simply refuse to go through with it. But then I would make an enemy of Admiral Chan. Who controlled the Eastern Fleet.
Father had arranged things very nicely. He and his allies, who were supposed to be my advisers, my ministers, my admirals. When the Fire Nation recovered from what the Avatar did to us, I swore, I would make every lord and minister pay for the disloyalty they had shown me.
In the meantime -- in the meantime --
When I was born, there was a tacit understanding that I would marry my cousin, Lu Ten, the crown prince. We didn't much care for each other. He was thirteen years older than me, and a fool, Uncle's son in all the worst possible ways, and he regarded me with indifference that turned into dislike after I killed his hare-puppy. But the betrothal was formalised when I was seven, and had Lu Ten lived, I would have done my duty and married him.
But he died when I was eight, and then Grandfather, and Father took the throne. And with our change in status, our futures became more changeable. Zuko's betrothal to Mai was brought to an end -- it was unthinkable for a future Fire Lord to marry a non-bender, though I don't think Zuko ever grasped that reality. Father occasionally toyed with new betrothals for both of us, sending the court into paroxysms of gossip and manoeuvring, but nothing ever came of it. We were much too valuable to be thrown away on just anyone.
Or so I had thought.
As for what I wanted--
At Ember Island, in the wreckage of Admiral Chan's beach house, I had made Ty Lee kiss me.
"You don't need to order me to do that," she said, obeying. But she had betrayed me along with Mai, and that became another memory to put aside.
Footsteps approached. Father. He knelt before me and took my hands. "I know you'll do your duty, Azula," he said gently. "Without an heir, your position is precarious." He squeezed my hand. "Fire Lord."
It was the first time he had addressed me by my title.
He said, "I felt the same, when I was told to marry your mother."
Yes, I thought, but he was a man. I was a woman, and a Fire Lord, and my heirs would come from my own body. Mother should have been grateful to be given to a prince. I'd never bothered to ask, when she was alive, but I could imagine her answer. It was pointless to despise a dead traitor. Just as it was pointless to fight this marriage my father had so kindly arranged.
I smiled at him.
"You're right, of course. And Captain Chan Li was a wise choice. I look forward to meeting him." I leaned forward, forcing my father to look up at me. "And if you ever go behind my back again," I said, "I will have you exiled."
Mixed with his surprise, I thought, was a touch of pride.
It was winter before I met my husband-to-be. The weather turned wild and rainy, with unusually heavy snowfalls in the north. There were treasonous whispers that the spirits were restless. Lord Tenshi went so far as to declare open rebellion, and it took the better part of a month to re-take his little island stronghold. It was cold and dark, and our firebending suffered.
Even in the capital, the very centre of my power, there was an ugly, restless mood. Someone was spreading dissent among the commoners, painting the walls of the city with seditious diatribes, all signed in the name of the dawn. After a servant made a clumsy attempt to assassinate me, I sent my Dai Li through the city to restore order. It was an efficient but unpopular move. I began to avoid windows and open spaces, and ate only from the dishes from which other people had taken. I was sleeping badly. My dead relatives were constantly whispering treason in my ear, and only hours of meditation would silence them.
This was the state in which I met my future consort.
He entered the throne room flanked by his father and brother and dropped to his knees before my throne. I parted the flames before me and advanced, holding my hand out to him as Li and Lo advised.
"Fire Lord," he said.
"Rise."
Chan Li was taller than his younger brother, and slightly broader, with a pleasant, weather-beaten face. A neat beard could not disguise the scar on his chin or the smile lines around his mouth.
He didn't look like a fool or a coward. His hands were dry, calloused from handling weapons and firebending. He was an impressive figure in his formal uniform. I thought I might like him even better out of it.
Our families exchanged the gifts, the Fire Sages performed their rituals. His mother presented me with the betrothal jewellery. In a month, we would be married.
The celebration that followed lasted for hours. It was very late before I had a chance to take Chan Li aside and say, "Come with me."
We were soaked through by the time we reached the pavilion by the lake, but at least we had privacy. We lit the torches and faced each other.
"Are you afraid of me?" I asked. "It's all right. Lots of people are."
His smile was a little twisted. "Fear is generally considered an unlikely foundation for a relationship."
"That's not an answer."
He walked past me, looking out over the lake.
"When my father told me about this arrangement," he said, "he wanted to use me as a tool to advance the ambitions of our family. He told me you were a child, and that your father is practically a cripple, and through you, I would effectively control the Fire Nation." He turned back to look at me. "By which he meant he would control the Fire Nation."
"And?"
"And you're not a child, and you are--"
"Fearsome?" I asked, sitting.
"Formidable."
"It'll do."
"And your father is very powerful." He knelt, speaking so quietly I could hardly hear him above the rain. "I watched him tonight, the way the court still revolves around him. Because you're very young, and a woman, and he's familiar and experienced." He traced the lines of my palm with his finger. "I won't be my father's pawn," he said, "but I would be honoured to be your ally."
His fingers moved to my inner wrist, running over the veins and tendons.
"Fire Lord," he said, "let me serve you."
His kiss was assured, pressing. Not like Ty Lee's, but not unpleasant. After a second I returned it.
"I know what you're doing," I told him. "And I don't trust you yet, either."
He cupped my face in his hand, tracing my lips with his thumb.
"That's how I know my father was wrong," he said.
The first thing I did was dispose of the bodies.
It took Appa and I days to move all the bones. We had had no resources for burial or cremation at the Air Temples, so we left our dead to the sky and the birds. Where only bones remained, they would be ground to powder and mixed with barley flour and yak-deer butter, and given to the sparrow-hawks. There were special sites for the sky burials, that could be reached only by air.
When my people were alive, there were monks and nuns who dedicated their lives to the rituals. Now there was only me.
When I was eight years old, my father was killed in a glider accident. Gyatso took me to the Northern Air Temple, and I sat with my mother and sisters and listened to the ritual prayers. I realised later that my mother must have known I was the Avatar, but she never said anything about it to me.
Now, as I prepared Gyatso's bones, I wondered if my father had known. Or if it even mattered, because Gyatso had been both mother and father to me. Family was different, among the Air Nomads. I kept the carved wooden beads he had worn. They were a comforting weight around my neck.
My sisters' names were Pema and Rinchen. They were older than me, raised by the nuns at the Eastern Air Temple. If I hadn't run away, I might have been able to save them.
The Temple's food stores were all burned out. The barley grew wild, half-trampled by yak-deer that had forgotten what people were. I used airbending to grind the flour and churn the butter, and welcomed the taste of home. Sometimes I saw wild lemurs, and Appa chased the wild bison herds that went into hiding whenever they saw me.
I worked from sunrise to dusk. I slept heavily every night. I didn't dream.
I still didn't know what to do about the war. The Fire Nation was weak, but everyone else was even weaker. Could I take Azula's bending? Would that even change anything?
When winter fell, I went into the Avatar sanctuary to meditate.
The Spirit World seemed warmer than the Southern Air Temple, but it was still and empty. I walked through the great forest, searching for someone I knew, and although I sometimes felt like I was being watched, no one came forward.
I cupped my hands to my mouth.
"Roku?" I called, "Fang?"
The only answer was an echo.
"Hai Be?" I tried. "Wan Shi Tong?" I hesitated. "Katara? Zuko?"
"The spirits won't come."
I spun around. Leaning against a tree was a young man in a Fire Nation soldier's uniform. He was handsome, in a stocky sort of way, and young, no more than twenty-five. In his hair, encircling his topknot, was a pointed hairpiece, the same as the one Azula had worn.
"My cousin won't come either," said the ghost-spirit. "Or your friend. They're too far away."
"You must be General Iroh's son." I gave him a bow in the Fire Nation style. "You look a bit like him."
"It was said that I looked like Fire Lord Sozin," he told me. "Growing up, I wanted to be as great a Fire Lord as he was."
"Oh."
"When I died, my father abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se and spent two years learning to enter the Spirit World, to find me. He called my name, but I couldn't come."
"You're here now."
"You won't try to bring me back." Prince Lu Ten looked down at me. "Why are you here, Avatar?"
"I came for wisdom."
"The dead have no wisdom. Only memories."
"The spirits--"
"Are out of balance. My cousin wasn't meant to die. The Fire Nation wasn't supposed to have Azula."
The dismissive way he said it made me angry. "Fine!" I said, "so this isn't the way the spirits wanted it to work out. It wasn't how I planned things, either! And while they're going on about Zuko, and the Fire Nation's destiny, well, this wasn't supposed to be Katara's destiny, either! So if the spirits are going to hide and sulk, maybe they can take some time to think about her, too!"
"I do," said a new voice, and Lu Ten vanished as the Moon Spirit appeared.
"Yue." I bowed. "I'm--"
"Sorry?" She sounded slightly amused, the way she did when she was alive. "Don't be. The spirits are vast, and people are small. They forget, sometimes. Maybe I will, too."
"I don't think so," I said.
"I hope not." She looked troubled. "Aang, the world is precariously balanced right now."
"Everyone's holding their breath," I said.
"Exactly. If you start the war again, so many more people will die needlessly."
"And if Azula stays in power?" I asked. "How many die then?"
"Fewer. We hope."
"But it's hard to tell when people are so small."
She flinched at my bitterness.
"The spirits can't see the future," said Yue, "only the present, and everything that went before. Watch and listen, and you'll know when the time is right to move." She reached out, touching my forehead. "You're out of balance, too, Aang," she said. "It would be dangerous for you to act now."
"Neutral jing?" I asked, but she had already faded away.
Eventually I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Air Temple.
I meditated through the winter, but I couldn't reach the Spirit World. It was like a door had closed, and if I pushed too hard, I would only lock it.
When the snow melted, I sent a message to Sokka that I was moving on, and not to look for me. Then Appa, Momo and I left for the Western Air Temple. I went through the same rituals again there, taking the bones of my people out to the sky. The skeletons were all anonymous, so I prayed for all those nuns as if they had been my mother.
At night, I slept with Gyatso's beads in my hand, as if they could protect me from my dreams. Maybe it worked, a little, or maybe Momo was getting better at waking me up before the worst of it started. But there were still mornings when I woke up thinking I was a different man.
Once I had disposed of the bodies, I began to restore the temple. I started with the sections damaged by Azula, then moved on to the parts destroyed by her ancestors. As I worked, I found myself thinking about Avatar Kuruk. He had lost his wife to Koh, and he searched for her still in the Spirit World. But death was different.
And love? We might never have married, but I loved her, and I was honoured to be her friend and pupil. I was honoured to have known her.
I missed her.
After the spring equinox, I started to feel like I'd been in one place too long. But it took me a while to work out where I wanted to go. Guru Pathrik had taken care of the bodies at the Eastern Air Temple. In the north, the Mechanist and his people had buried the dead in the soft mountain ground, Earth Kingdom style. It made my flesh creep, but it was their way.
In the end, we flew east, back towards the Earth Kingdom. It was strange to see people again after my months alone. I had no money, but I worked for food. As the weather grew warmer, I seemed to be hungry all the time, and now I was as tall as most of the women I met.
People talked about the war, but it seemed very remote. The front had shifted, the Fire Nation moving back to more defensible positions. Smaller colonies had been abandoned, I was told. Victorious Earth Kingdom troops would be home by midwinter.
It was exactly what I'd been trying to tell myself since the Comet, which was probably why I didn't believe it.
That night I dreamed that I was in the bunker beneath the palace. The chambers were almost empty; the eclipse had passed, the invasion had been defeated, and I could return to the surface at my leisure.
At my feet knelt Azula, her forehead touching the floor.
"Your brother told me about your deception."
Her shoulders tensed, but she wasted no time on apologies I wouldn't believe.
"I'm disappointed. I thought you were reliable."
She raises her head, fear in her eyes. Good. I had underestimated her badly, and let her think that Zuko's fate could never be hers. That ended now.
"Father," she said as I stood up.
Momo woke me up as the flames rose. For a second I was paralysed, lightning on the tips of my fingers.
Momo bit me.
"Ow!" I said, but that had broken the spell. Satisfied, he curled up on my shoulder and tugged affectionately at my ear.
I didn't sleep much after that.
A few days later, we were flying north up the coast when we saw a cloud of dust in the distance, glowing red here and there from explosions on the ground.
"Stay out of the way," I told Appa and Momo. "I won't be long."
I grabbed my glider and jumped.
I cleared the dust as I flew, so I had a pretty good view of the battle. It was smaller than I'd expected, just a ragged Earth Kingdom platoon throwing itself against a mismatched group of Fire Nation citizens. I spotted only a handful of the red and black uniforms, and only basic weapons in addition to the single tank.
I landed on a cannon. My metalbending wasn't as good as Toph's, but I could break things just fine. Then I jumped to the next cannon, then the next. Then I froze the water that kept the tank balanced, moving way too fast for the soldiers who tried to stop me. A pair of earthbenders took advantage of the lull to aim one of their massive granite disks at the other side, but I brought that to a halt and cracked it down the middle.
When the battle had ground to a confused and angry stop, I vaulted into the middle, where an Earth Kingdom colonel and a Fire Nation lieutenant were glaring at each other, hands raised in fighting stances.
"Hi," I said, "I'm the Avatar. What seems to be the problem here?"
The problem was that this land had been annexed by the Fire Nation sixty years ago. The Earth Kingdom citizens either fled and became refugees, or stayed, and were forced to work as servants or labourers. A few were allowed into positions of trust and power, but they didn't seem to live very long.
"Collaborators," spat Colonel Hyung.
"Murdered by their own people," snapped Lieutenant Dayu.
Once Hyung got over his outrage that I wasn't just going to wipe out the Fire Nation people, and Dayu recovered from his shock that I was even talking to him, they were both eager to fill me in. They even gave me a meal, Earth Kingdom rations with fire flakes. Not fancy, but I wasn't fussy.
Colonel Hyung had grown up in the area. His grandfather had been the mayor of the town that had become a small Fire Nation city. He had always hoped to be the one to drive the Fire Nation away, but it was a strong outpost and open warfare always seemed impossible.
Until last year, when the Fire Nation troops defending this region were taken away. They lost some territory back to the Earth Kingdom then, and a mob of earthbenders even got into the city and collapsed an administrative building.
"That was bad enough," said Lieutenant Dayu, the military governor and commander of the last remaining battalion, "but two weeks ago, Fire Nation recruiters conscripted the young and able-bodied colonists. Now we have middle-aged bureaucrats defending the land, and there aren't enough people to work the fields."
"Maybe you should get some Earth Kingdom slaves to do it for you," said Colonel Hyung.
"That's an historic libel!"
"Are you calling my great-uncle a liar?"
"Are you calling my mother a slave-owner?"
"Guys," I said.
"My ancestors had a civilisation back when you Earth Kingdom savages were living in mud shacks!"
"Civilisation? Is that what you call it when--"
"Guys!"
Finally they stopped and resumed their seats.
"How do you want this resolved?" I asked.
"I want him," Hyung waved at Dayu, "and his type to go back where they came from."
"I was born here," said Dayu. "I want my home to be left in peace."
"Good luck," said Hyung. "Way things look now, we only have to wait for you lot to run out of food."
Dayu flinched. I guessed he hadn't been exaggerating about the lack of people to work the fields.
"We'll get shipments from the Fire Nation," he said, but he didn't sound like he believed it.
"I don't get it," I said, "why would Azula leave her citizens to starve? Don't people care?" But even as I said it, I thought of the way people had sneered when they thought we were from the colonies.
"I'm sure the Fire Lord has her reasons," said Dayu piously.
"Right," I said. "Don't you even care that she killed her brother?"
Dayu swallowed. "He was said to be a traitor."
"She wanted power so badly," I said, "and she's not even a good leader." The anger that I'd been trying to repress for months was growing. I climbed to my feet and began to pace. I had watched and listened, just like the spirits told me, and this was what I saw and heard.
"This is what you're going to do," I said to the men. "Dayu, you really want to stay here? Till the land and make the city thrive?"
He nodded.
"All right," I said. "Declare your independence from the Fire Nation. Ally with the Earth Kingdom, and let Hyung's people live here as free citizens."
"No!" both men snapped.
"See?" I grinned. "You've just found common ground."
Dayu made little choked noises, and finally managed to say, "...treason..."
"The way I figure it, Azula betrayed you first," I said.
"They can't stay here," said Hyung. "This is the Earth Kingdom. They're invaders."
"Their grandparents were invaders. These guys now, they're just … people."
"Lots of people will be very angry about this," said Hyung.
"I know. That's why you need sensible people in charge, who won't just make this a different kind of war."
Both men were silent for a long time.
Eventually, Dayu said, in a small voice, "Many people have children at school in the Fire Nation, or serving in the army. If they stay, they'll never get to see them again."
"If anyone wants to go back to the Fire Nation, they can," I said. "But anyone who stays -- that's it. They're part of the Earth Kingdom now. And it doesn't matter if the people of the Earth Kingdom don't believe that," I gave Hyung a hard look, "because Fire Lord Azula won't care very much."
"She might send her troops to reclaim it," Dayu said.
Hyung said, "This land means a lot to the people around here. We'd help you defend it, if we could be part of it again."
Cautiously, they shook hands.
It was a lot more complicated than that, of course. A mere colonel couldn't accept a defecting city, and Dayu had to answer to the city council. I spent days talking, persuading, pleading. Begging a little.
In the end, a lot of Fire Nation people left. Most of the upper classes were gone, and quite a few of the merchants. The majority of the commoners stayed, not having much to go back for, and maybe knowing that they'd be better off in the Earth Kingdom than as Azula's subjects.
I took to spending time in tea houses and bars, just listening to people talk. Not just about politics, but about their lives. Kids. Sweethearts.
One man, a factory worker, wanted to go back and kill Azula, but he was dissuaded by his friends.
"You won't get near her," said one, an older woman with a face scarred from an industrial accident, "and then she'll retaliate against all the common people in the capital." She moved her glass and traced a character in the moisture on the table. "Let the nobles take her out. They get the consequences. We get someone better. Everyone wins."
"Enough of that,," the barman said, and sent them on their way. While he was gone I slipped out of my little corner to look at the character she had written on the table. It said 'dawn'.
I was there for a few weeks, and by the time I left, the Earth Kingdom had reclaimed its lost city, and young earthbenders were learning traditional Fire Nation festival dances.
No more waiting. I knew what I had to do. We flew directly to Ba Sing Se, landing in the courtyard in front of Iroh's tea shop. A few people greeted me as I went inside, but I didn't stop to talk. I knew who I was looking for.
The tea shop was almost empty. I found Mai sitting at a table, her server's apron thrown over a chair, her hands curled around a cup of bitter-smelling tea. She looked tired and unhappy, but she looked up as I approached.
"I'm going to assassinate Azula," I told her. "Do you want to come?
Part 3
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Characters: Aang, Azula, Mai; Aang/Katara, Mai/Zuko, Azula/Ty Lee, Azula/OMC, Mai/OMC
Rating: R, mostly for violence and politics
Warning(s): (highlight to reveal) Major character death; violence; underage arranged marriage; casual sex under the influence of alcohol; psychological abuse; mental illness
Part 1 |
Aang
The monks used to say that autumn was the season of the Air Nomads, the time when our bending was strongest. After we left Kyoshi Island and turned south, the air turned colder and the sky bluer, and it was all familiar.
"Feel that, buddy?" I said to Appa, running my hands through his fur, bracing myself against the pitch and roll of the ship. "That's the polar wind taking us home."
He rumbled happily.
"Really," said Toph, appearing behind me. She walked carefully, her hands held in front of her. She had put off donning the fur boots for as long as possible, but on a wooden ship, there wasn't much earth for her feet to see anyway. "I thought it was Sokka and Suki. Again."
"Again?"
Toph climbed into Appa's saddle.
"Every night since we left Kyoshi Island. And every morning. And in the afternoons, if Sokka's not busy. And those little cabins aren't exactly soundproof." She found the blanket I had been sleeping under and wrapped it around herself. "I'm just glad we're not on land, so I only have to hear it."
"It's not just because I like the open air that I've been sleeping with Appa," I admitted.
"I wish I didn't feel the cold."
It was another week before we reached the Southern Water Tribe. I almost didn't recognise it when I spotted it from Appa's back. The tiny village had become a bustling little town. There were Northern ships in the harbour, and Sokka's watchtower had been replaced by a high tower of ice. Pakku's waterbenders had done good work.
I could have landed, but I wasn't ready to face their Gran-Gran on my own. I turned Appa around and went back to Hakoda's fleet. I wanted to fly away and keep flying until we wound up somewhere new, but I wasn't that kid anymore.
Maybe the others felt the same hesitation, because when we did land, Sokka hung back, holding Suki's hand and looking nervous.
"Practically the last thing Gran-Gran told me was to look after Katara," he said.
"Come on, son." Hakoda led him off the ship, and we followed.
The changes seemed even more pronounced from the ground. There was a sense of life and movement here, and it wasn't just because of the newcomers from the North. There was a big communal igloo in the centre of the village, and even some of the family homes looked larger than I remembered. This time, when the entire village gathered to meet us, I counted about fifty people.
Gran-Gran stood in the centre of the cluster, moving forward to greet us. She caught Hakoda in a rough hug that nearly knocked him off his feet, though he was twice her size.
"My son," she said, releasing him. "And Sokka."
"Gran-Gran." There was a muffled sob in Sokka's voice, and he let her stroke his hair. Straightening up, he wiped his eyes and said, "Gran-Gran, this is Suki of Kyoshi Island." He took Suki's hand again, which made her bow awkward, but Gran-Gran smiled.
"Come inside," she said, "out of the cold."
She greeted Pakku with a squeeze of his hand as he passed, then turned to me.
"Avatar," she said. I braced myself for her blame, but she just touched my shoulder and sent me inside with the rest.
"She sounds nice," Toph whispered, clinging to my hand.
"She banished me once," I told her, "but I kind of deserved it. Watch out for the dead animal skins on the floor. They're sort of," I caught Toph as she tripped, "thick."
That night there was a feast, heavy on the sea prunes. And the squid. And the sea crabs. I filled up on seaweed bread and wondered if I could convince myself that krill was more vegetable than animal. Afterwards, Gran-Gran poured tiny glasses of liquor from a black bottle, one for everyone, even Toph and I. There was no toast, but I thought of Katara as I drank, and I didn't think I was the only one.
The next day, we had the funeral.
It was the custom in the South Pole to lay a body out on the ice and lay out stones to protect it from animals. We had no body, but we built a wall of stone anyway. The wind froze my tears.
We -- Katara's family -- were the last to leave. Finally, Pakku and Hakoda persuaded Gran-Gran to return to the village.
Sokka said, "Our mom used to tell us that if you dream about a dead person, it means they don't want to leave. So you should give that person's name to a newborn."
Suki and Toph both winced. They had pretty strong taboos about using the names of the dead in the Earth Kingdom.
Before we left, I approached the stone memorial once more. The rock was icy as I touched it.
It was the simplest bit of earthbending to rearrange the surface of the stone to form the characters of Katara's name. Sokka nodded. "It's good," he said.
We went inside.
The Southern Water Tribe didn’t have much room for people who couldn't work. Suki joined the hunters, and started teaching the women to fight. Sokka spent most of his time with his father, hunting and sailing and learning the skills he'd need to become a tribal chief. Even Toph, who rarely went outside if she could avoid it, found herself playing with the kids. They brought her stones, which she shaped into animals or people. I saw one little girl playing with a tiny copy of the Earth King and his bear.
Me -- well, I played with the children, and helped the waterbenders, and watched Pakku teaching the two kids who had been identified as possible benders. I kept busy. Toph started teaching me metalbending, although it was even harder than learning to bend earth. I ate a lot of sea prunes. I got used to the taste after a while, but the texture was just wrong.
People tried to ask me about the war. Some of the warriors wanted to go back. Others felt they had neglected their families for too long. A few of the women wanted to sail out with the men next time. Most people seemed think that, with Ozai gone and the Fire Nation quiet for now, we could afford to rest. Hakoda and Sokka disagreed, but they were tired.
I was tired, too. Some nights I dreamed that I was Ozai, and then I'd lie awake in the cold darkness, wondering if they were nightmares or memories. It had been easier in Ba Sing Se, where I could open my glider and fly until I was too exhausted to dream, but this wasn't a place where you could just slip out for a few hours in the middle of the night. Going out alone here was an easy way to die.
Sometimes I dreamed of Azula, looking down at her with a mixture of affection and contempt. But when I woke up from those dreams, I was always angry. Angry because she had killed my friends. Angry because she hadn't made Zuko's choices. I couldn't be detached when I thought of her, so I shoved her to the back of my mind and changed the subject whenever the war was raised.
No one blamed me for Katara's death. Maybe it hadn't occurred to them yet that she'd probably be alive and okay if I'd never turned up.
"Or maybe," said Toph when I finally admitted this to her, "they think there are a lot more people who'd be dead if she hadn't found you. Like most of the Earth Kingdom." Clad from top to bottom in furs so that only her mouth was visible, she looked like a very small, upright air bison.
"So basically," she continued, "you're worrying because no one's thinking about you as they grieve. And don't take this the wrong way, Twinkletoes, but not even Zuko was that self-centred." She paused. "Well, most of the time."
"You know, Toph, you're pretty wise."
"Damn straight. Where are these penguins?"
I pointed her in the right direction. "Trust me," I said, "penguin sledding is the very best thing about the South Pole. You're going to love it."
At the bottom of the hill, after I dug her out of the snow, she grabbed me by the collar and stuffed snow down my top.
"That," she said, "was even worse than flying. I hate the cold, and I hate not being able to see, and I'm sick of all the good, solid rocks being covered by snow." She stopped to draw breath, but it turned into a sob.
"I'm sick of thinking of really good ways to annoy Katara, and then her not being around," she said. "And everyone goes on about how sweet and clever and kind she was--"
"She was!"
"Yeah, but she was also a big fat pain in the butt." Toph sniffled. "I really miss that."
"Yeah," I said, "me too."
After Toph's outburst, I figured it was just a matter of time until she asked me and Appa to take her back to the Earth Kingdom. I hadn't counted on Sokka.
"Look at this," he said, thrusting a scroll into Toph's hands.
"Wow, Sokka. It's paper. That's amazing."
"Oh, right. Well, it's a plan. I," he puffed out his chest, "have had an idea."
"We're doomed," Suki muttered, but we all crowded around to look.
"Is it a house?" Suki asked.
"Is that the floor?" I asked. "Is it meant to lift up?"
"Yes," said Sokka, and he told us his plan.
We used a dogsled to get out to the quarry. Appa rumbled in dismay, but he wasn't really built for hauling rocks. And Momo nearly discovered the hard way that wolf-dogs didn't like to be ridden, and spent the rest of the day sulking in the hood of Sokka's parka.
It took me about an hour to air- and waterbend the snow away from the biggest, flattest rocks. I used firebending to clear the ice that remained, and to warm the rocks, then Toph pulled her mukluks off and jumped down onto the stone.
"Oh yeah," she said, stretching her toes. "This is the stuff."
We bent big, square slabs of stone onto the dogsled. Toph didn't put her mukluks back on until the last possible moment.
By the evening, we’d laid the foundations. The walls took another day: they were stone, with snow packed between layers of rock for insulation.
When it was done, we had a house. Or a room, anyway. A big room. We let Toph go in first.
She circled slowly, nodding thoughtfully, then pulled off her mukluks.
"Sokka," she said, "you are a genius."
The floor consisted of two layers of stone. The top layer consisted of tiles that could be lifted, with room beneath them for coal or seaweed or - really, anything that would smoulder. But for now, firebending alone had heated the floor.
"Oh yeah," said Sokka. "Am I good? I'm good, aren't I?"
Toph was a lot happier after that, and we all unofficially moved into her house. Momo could be relied on to find the warmest slab of rock, and even Appa seemed to like sleeping close to this little piece of warmth. Time seemed to slow here: we seemed safe from the war, families were reunited, people were healing.
I needed to move on.
I woke up one morning and realised it was three days since the Autumn equinox, and I was thirteen years old. Or one hundred and thirteen. And I had been away too long. People were too close here. It was hard to be alone. Even in Ba Sing Se, I'd found space to just sit and be silent. I missed the way Mai would drink tea with me in the evenings, the way she'd sit with me without speaking.
I didn't have many belongings to pack. Sokka and the others found me loading Appa.
"It's not forever," I said. "Just for a few weeks. Or months, maybe. I need to go to the Southern Air Temple for a while."
"On your own?" I'd never noticed before, but Sokka sounded a lot like Katara when he worried.
"Don't be silly," I said. "Appa and Momo will be with me."
"You -- you." Sokka gave up and pointed at Momo. "You look after him, you hear?" Momo chittered.
If Toph didn't break one of my ribs when she hugged me, it wasn't for lack of trying. "Look after yourself," she said roughly.
"Take care," added Suki.
Sokka hesitated, then swept me into a tight, rough hug. "Send Momo to let us know how you are," he said. "If we don't hear from you, I'll walk up that mountain myself to find you."
I nodded. I didn't think I could speak just then. Sokka seemed to understand.
I jumped onto Appa's neck. "I promise," I managed to say, "I'll be fine." I took the reins. "Yip yip."
They fell away beneath me, and I didn't look back. "Let's go home," I told Appa.
Azula
I found my father on the training grounds, haranguing the Imperial Weapons Master. Master Jiao stopped and bowed when he saw me approach, and the servants dropped to their knees.
My father merely turned his head and smiled, still holding Jiao's latest creation.
"Good morning, Azula," he said.
"Leave us," I told Jiao and the rest. I waited until we were alone. It wouldn't do to let them see my anger. It wouldn't do.
When we had privacy I said, "You might have told me yourself. I had to find out from Li and Lo."
Father braced the gun against his shoulder and fired. The projectile did not quite hit the target.
"Your aim is off," I said. "Or is it the weapon that's inferior?"
He looked like Zuko when he was angry. I felt reckless and untouchable. "Is this how you serve me," I pushed, "bartering me off to your cronies' sons?"
"You need to marry," he said. "Captain Chan Li is able and honourable, and his father controls the Eastern Fleet. He's even a young man."
"Thirty," I said. "I met his younger brother once. I kissed him, then we burned down his house."
I might have declared my intention to find and marry the Earth King, for all my father cared. He took aim and fired again. "Azula," he said, in the tone he used to speak to children, or Zuko, "you need the support of the Navy, and you need an heir. Quickly."
I'm barely fifteen, I wanted to say.
Instead, I said, "The Fire Navy's support should be unquestioned."
"With Admiral Chan's son as your consort, it will be." He turned his back on me, all of his attention on his weapon.
This wasn't the way to treat a Fire Lord. It wasn't even the way to treat a princess. I felt a surge of anger and channeled it into my fingertips, letting the raw power surge through my body and emerge as lightning.
My father turned back to look at me as the training ground exploded around us.
He smiled.
I left him standing there in the wreckage, and went to sit in the garden.
"You know what he does with the weapons that don't work the way he wants," Zuko told me. Or at least, I heard his voice, but when I looked around, I was alone except for my guards.
My initial anger was giving way to something else, something cold and unfamiliar. Li and Lo had brought me the news as I dressed, and at first I thought they were joking. My marriage was not my father's to contract, and I wouldn't have chosen such a minor family, regardless of how many fleets they controlled. The Navy problem was mine to solve, just as my marriage was mine to make, and Father had taken control of both.
It would have been easier if the Avatar had killed him. I hated myself for thinking it, but the notion persisted. Even without his bending, my father was a powerful force in the Fire Nation. Had he been anyone else, I would have ordered him assassinated, as a warning to those who thought they could eclipse the Fire Lord.
But he was my father, and I trusted him, however much I resented his interference.
("Trust?" my mother had whispered in my ear, late at night. "In Ozai? I thought you understood people, Azula." She lied. Of course she lied. My mother always lied to me.)
The betrothal had been organised without my knowledge or consent. I could simply refuse to go through with it. But then I would make an enemy of Admiral Chan. Who controlled the Eastern Fleet.
Father had arranged things very nicely. He and his allies, who were supposed to be my advisers, my ministers, my admirals. When the Fire Nation recovered from what the Avatar did to us, I swore, I would make every lord and minister pay for the disloyalty they had shown me.
In the meantime -- in the meantime --
When I was born, there was a tacit understanding that I would marry my cousin, Lu Ten, the crown prince. We didn't much care for each other. He was thirteen years older than me, and a fool, Uncle's son in all the worst possible ways, and he regarded me with indifference that turned into dislike after I killed his hare-puppy. But the betrothal was formalised when I was seven, and had Lu Ten lived, I would have done my duty and married him.
But he died when I was eight, and then Grandfather, and Father took the throne. And with our change in status, our futures became more changeable. Zuko's betrothal to Mai was brought to an end -- it was unthinkable for a future Fire Lord to marry a non-bender, though I don't think Zuko ever grasped that reality. Father occasionally toyed with new betrothals for both of us, sending the court into paroxysms of gossip and manoeuvring, but nothing ever came of it. We were much too valuable to be thrown away on just anyone.
Or so I had thought.
As for what I wanted--
At Ember Island, in the wreckage of Admiral Chan's beach house, I had made Ty Lee kiss me.
"You don't need to order me to do that," she said, obeying. But she had betrayed me along with Mai, and that became another memory to put aside.
Footsteps approached. Father. He knelt before me and took my hands. "I know you'll do your duty, Azula," he said gently. "Without an heir, your position is precarious." He squeezed my hand. "Fire Lord."
It was the first time he had addressed me by my title.
He said, "I felt the same, when I was told to marry your mother."
Yes, I thought, but he was a man. I was a woman, and a Fire Lord, and my heirs would come from my own body. Mother should have been grateful to be given to a prince. I'd never bothered to ask, when she was alive, but I could imagine her answer. It was pointless to despise a dead traitor. Just as it was pointless to fight this marriage my father had so kindly arranged.
I smiled at him.
"You're right, of course. And Captain Chan Li was a wise choice. I look forward to meeting him." I leaned forward, forcing my father to look up at me. "And if you ever go behind my back again," I said, "I will have you exiled."
Mixed with his surprise, I thought, was a touch of pride.
It was winter before I met my husband-to-be. The weather turned wild and rainy, with unusually heavy snowfalls in the north. There were treasonous whispers that the spirits were restless. Lord Tenshi went so far as to declare open rebellion, and it took the better part of a month to re-take his little island stronghold. It was cold and dark, and our firebending suffered.
Even in the capital, the very centre of my power, there was an ugly, restless mood. Someone was spreading dissent among the commoners, painting the walls of the city with seditious diatribes, all signed in the name of the dawn. After a servant made a clumsy attempt to assassinate me, I sent my Dai Li through the city to restore order. It was an efficient but unpopular move. I began to avoid windows and open spaces, and ate only from the dishes from which other people had taken. I was sleeping badly. My dead relatives were constantly whispering treason in my ear, and only hours of meditation would silence them.
This was the state in which I met my future consort.
He entered the throne room flanked by his father and brother and dropped to his knees before my throne. I parted the flames before me and advanced, holding my hand out to him as Li and Lo advised.
"Fire Lord," he said.
"Rise."
Chan Li was taller than his younger brother, and slightly broader, with a pleasant, weather-beaten face. A neat beard could not disguise the scar on his chin or the smile lines around his mouth.
He didn't look like a fool or a coward. His hands were dry, calloused from handling weapons and firebending. He was an impressive figure in his formal uniform. I thought I might like him even better out of it.
Our families exchanged the gifts, the Fire Sages performed their rituals. His mother presented me with the betrothal jewellery. In a month, we would be married.
The celebration that followed lasted for hours. It was very late before I had a chance to take Chan Li aside and say, "Come with me."
We were soaked through by the time we reached the pavilion by the lake, but at least we had privacy. We lit the torches and faced each other.
"Are you afraid of me?" I asked. "It's all right. Lots of people are."
His smile was a little twisted. "Fear is generally considered an unlikely foundation for a relationship."
"That's not an answer."
He walked past me, looking out over the lake.
"When my father told me about this arrangement," he said, "he wanted to use me as a tool to advance the ambitions of our family. He told me you were a child, and that your father is practically a cripple, and through you, I would effectively control the Fire Nation." He turned back to look at me. "By which he meant he would control the Fire Nation."
"And?"
"And you're not a child, and you are--"
"Fearsome?" I asked, sitting.
"Formidable."
"It'll do."
"And your father is very powerful." He knelt, speaking so quietly I could hardly hear him above the rain. "I watched him tonight, the way the court still revolves around him. Because you're very young, and a woman, and he's familiar and experienced." He traced the lines of my palm with his finger. "I won't be my father's pawn," he said, "but I would be honoured to be your ally."
His fingers moved to my inner wrist, running over the veins and tendons.
"Fire Lord," he said, "let me serve you."
His kiss was assured, pressing. Not like Ty Lee's, but not unpleasant. After a second I returned it.
"I know what you're doing," I told him. "And I don't trust you yet, either."
He cupped my face in his hand, tracing my lips with his thumb.
"That's how I know my father was wrong," he said.
Aang
The first thing I did was dispose of the bodies.
It took Appa and I days to move all the bones. We had had no resources for burial or cremation at the Air Temples, so we left our dead to the sky and the birds. Where only bones remained, they would be ground to powder and mixed with barley flour and yak-deer butter, and given to the sparrow-hawks. There were special sites for the sky burials, that could be reached only by air.
When my people were alive, there were monks and nuns who dedicated their lives to the rituals. Now there was only me.
When I was eight years old, my father was killed in a glider accident. Gyatso took me to the Northern Air Temple, and I sat with my mother and sisters and listened to the ritual prayers. I realised later that my mother must have known I was the Avatar, but she never said anything about it to me.
Now, as I prepared Gyatso's bones, I wondered if my father had known. Or if it even mattered, because Gyatso had been both mother and father to me. Family was different, among the Air Nomads. I kept the carved wooden beads he had worn. They were a comforting weight around my neck.
My sisters' names were Pema and Rinchen. They were older than me, raised by the nuns at the Eastern Air Temple. If I hadn't run away, I might have been able to save them.
The Temple's food stores were all burned out. The barley grew wild, half-trampled by yak-deer that had forgotten what people were. I used airbending to grind the flour and churn the butter, and welcomed the taste of home. Sometimes I saw wild lemurs, and Appa chased the wild bison herds that went into hiding whenever they saw me.
I worked from sunrise to dusk. I slept heavily every night. I didn't dream.
I still didn't know what to do about the war. The Fire Nation was weak, but everyone else was even weaker. Could I take Azula's bending? Would that even change anything?
When winter fell, I went into the Avatar sanctuary to meditate.
The Spirit World seemed warmer than the Southern Air Temple, but it was still and empty. I walked through the great forest, searching for someone I knew, and although I sometimes felt like I was being watched, no one came forward.
I cupped my hands to my mouth.
"Roku?" I called, "Fang?"
The only answer was an echo.
"Hai Be?" I tried. "Wan Shi Tong?" I hesitated. "Katara? Zuko?"
"The spirits won't come."
I spun around. Leaning against a tree was a young man in a Fire Nation soldier's uniform. He was handsome, in a stocky sort of way, and young, no more than twenty-five. In his hair, encircling his topknot, was a pointed hairpiece, the same as the one Azula had worn.
"My cousin won't come either," said the ghost-spirit. "Or your friend. They're too far away."
"You must be General Iroh's son." I gave him a bow in the Fire Nation style. "You look a bit like him."
"It was said that I looked like Fire Lord Sozin," he told me. "Growing up, I wanted to be as great a Fire Lord as he was."
"Oh."
"When I died, my father abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se and spent two years learning to enter the Spirit World, to find me. He called my name, but I couldn't come."
"You're here now."
"You won't try to bring me back." Prince Lu Ten looked down at me. "Why are you here, Avatar?"
"I came for wisdom."
"The dead have no wisdom. Only memories."
"The spirits--"
"Are out of balance. My cousin wasn't meant to die. The Fire Nation wasn't supposed to have Azula."
The dismissive way he said it made me angry. "Fine!" I said, "so this isn't the way the spirits wanted it to work out. It wasn't how I planned things, either! And while they're going on about Zuko, and the Fire Nation's destiny, well, this wasn't supposed to be Katara's destiny, either! So if the spirits are going to hide and sulk, maybe they can take some time to think about her, too!"
"I do," said a new voice, and Lu Ten vanished as the Moon Spirit appeared.
"Yue." I bowed. "I'm--"
"Sorry?" She sounded slightly amused, the way she did when she was alive. "Don't be. The spirits are vast, and people are small. They forget, sometimes. Maybe I will, too."
"I don't think so," I said.
"I hope not." She looked troubled. "Aang, the world is precariously balanced right now."
"Everyone's holding their breath," I said.
"Exactly. If you start the war again, so many more people will die needlessly."
"And if Azula stays in power?" I asked. "How many die then?"
"Fewer. We hope."
"But it's hard to tell when people are so small."
She flinched at my bitterness.
"The spirits can't see the future," said Yue, "only the present, and everything that went before. Watch and listen, and you'll know when the time is right to move." She reached out, touching my forehead. "You're out of balance, too, Aang," she said. "It would be dangerous for you to act now."
"Neutral jing?" I asked, but she had already faded away.
Eventually I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Air Temple.
I meditated through the winter, but I couldn't reach the Spirit World. It was like a door had closed, and if I pushed too hard, I would only lock it.
When the snow melted, I sent a message to Sokka that I was moving on, and not to look for me. Then Appa, Momo and I left for the Western Air Temple. I went through the same rituals again there, taking the bones of my people out to the sky. The skeletons were all anonymous, so I prayed for all those nuns as if they had been my mother.
At night, I slept with Gyatso's beads in my hand, as if they could protect me from my dreams. Maybe it worked, a little, or maybe Momo was getting better at waking me up before the worst of it started. But there were still mornings when I woke up thinking I was a different man.
Once I had disposed of the bodies, I began to restore the temple. I started with the sections damaged by Azula, then moved on to the parts destroyed by her ancestors. As I worked, I found myself thinking about Avatar Kuruk. He had lost his wife to Koh, and he searched for her still in the Spirit World. But death was different.
And love? We might never have married, but I loved her, and I was honoured to be her friend and pupil. I was honoured to have known her.
I missed her.
After the spring equinox, I started to feel like I'd been in one place too long. But it took me a while to work out where I wanted to go. Guru Pathrik had taken care of the bodies at the Eastern Air Temple. In the north, the Mechanist and his people had buried the dead in the soft mountain ground, Earth Kingdom style. It made my flesh creep, but it was their way.
In the end, we flew east, back towards the Earth Kingdom. It was strange to see people again after my months alone. I had no money, but I worked for food. As the weather grew warmer, I seemed to be hungry all the time, and now I was as tall as most of the women I met.
People talked about the war, but it seemed very remote. The front had shifted, the Fire Nation moving back to more defensible positions. Smaller colonies had been abandoned, I was told. Victorious Earth Kingdom troops would be home by midwinter.
It was exactly what I'd been trying to tell myself since the Comet, which was probably why I didn't believe it.
That night I dreamed that I was in the bunker beneath the palace. The chambers were almost empty; the eclipse had passed, the invasion had been defeated, and I could return to the surface at my leisure.
At my feet knelt Azula, her forehead touching the floor.
"Your brother told me about your deception."
Her shoulders tensed, but she wasted no time on apologies I wouldn't believe.
"I'm disappointed. I thought you were reliable."
She raises her head, fear in her eyes. Good. I had underestimated her badly, and let her think that Zuko's fate could never be hers. That ended now.
"Father," she said as I stood up.
Momo woke me up as the flames rose. For a second I was paralysed, lightning on the tips of my fingers.
Momo bit me.
"Ow!" I said, but that had broken the spell. Satisfied, he curled up on my shoulder and tugged affectionately at my ear.
I didn't sleep much after that.
A few days later, we were flying north up the coast when we saw a cloud of dust in the distance, glowing red here and there from explosions on the ground.
"Stay out of the way," I told Appa and Momo. "I won't be long."
I grabbed my glider and jumped.
I cleared the dust as I flew, so I had a pretty good view of the battle. It was smaller than I'd expected, just a ragged Earth Kingdom platoon throwing itself against a mismatched group of Fire Nation citizens. I spotted only a handful of the red and black uniforms, and only basic weapons in addition to the single tank.
I landed on a cannon. My metalbending wasn't as good as Toph's, but I could break things just fine. Then I jumped to the next cannon, then the next. Then I froze the water that kept the tank balanced, moving way too fast for the soldiers who tried to stop me. A pair of earthbenders took advantage of the lull to aim one of their massive granite disks at the other side, but I brought that to a halt and cracked it down the middle.
When the battle had ground to a confused and angry stop, I vaulted into the middle, where an Earth Kingdom colonel and a Fire Nation lieutenant were glaring at each other, hands raised in fighting stances.
"Hi," I said, "I'm the Avatar. What seems to be the problem here?"
The problem was that this land had been annexed by the Fire Nation sixty years ago. The Earth Kingdom citizens either fled and became refugees, or stayed, and were forced to work as servants or labourers. A few were allowed into positions of trust and power, but they didn't seem to live very long.
"Collaborators," spat Colonel Hyung.
"Murdered by their own people," snapped Lieutenant Dayu.
Once Hyung got over his outrage that I wasn't just going to wipe out the Fire Nation people, and Dayu recovered from his shock that I was even talking to him, they were both eager to fill me in. They even gave me a meal, Earth Kingdom rations with fire flakes. Not fancy, but I wasn't fussy.
Colonel Hyung had grown up in the area. His grandfather had been the mayor of the town that had become a small Fire Nation city. He had always hoped to be the one to drive the Fire Nation away, but it was a strong outpost and open warfare always seemed impossible.
Until last year, when the Fire Nation troops defending this region were taken away. They lost some territory back to the Earth Kingdom then, and a mob of earthbenders even got into the city and collapsed an administrative building.
"That was bad enough," said Lieutenant Dayu, the military governor and commander of the last remaining battalion, "but two weeks ago, Fire Nation recruiters conscripted the young and able-bodied colonists. Now we have middle-aged bureaucrats defending the land, and there aren't enough people to work the fields."
"Maybe you should get some Earth Kingdom slaves to do it for you," said Colonel Hyung.
"That's an historic libel!"
"Are you calling my great-uncle a liar?"
"Are you calling my mother a slave-owner?"
"Guys," I said.
"My ancestors had a civilisation back when you Earth Kingdom savages were living in mud shacks!"
"Civilisation? Is that what you call it when--"
"Guys!"
Finally they stopped and resumed their seats.
"How do you want this resolved?" I asked.
"I want him," Hyung waved at Dayu, "and his type to go back where they came from."
"I was born here," said Dayu. "I want my home to be left in peace."
"Good luck," said Hyung. "Way things look now, we only have to wait for you lot to run out of food."
Dayu flinched. I guessed he hadn't been exaggerating about the lack of people to work the fields.
"We'll get shipments from the Fire Nation," he said, but he didn't sound like he believed it.
"I don't get it," I said, "why would Azula leave her citizens to starve? Don't people care?" But even as I said it, I thought of the way people had sneered when they thought we were from the colonies.
"I'm sure the Fire Lord has her reasons," said Dayu piously.
"Right," I said. "Don't you even care that she killed her brother?"
Dayu swallowed. "He was said to be a traitor."
"She wanted power so badly," I said, "and she's not even a good leader." The anger that I'd been trying to repress for months was growing. I climbed to my feet and began to pace. I had watched and listened, just like the spirits told me, and this was what I saw and heard.
"This is what you're going to do," I said to the men. "Dayu, you really want to stay here? Till the land and make the city thrive?"
He nodded.
"All right," I said. "Declare your independence from the Fire Nation. Ally with the Earth Kingdom, and let Hyung's people live here as free citizens."
"No!" both men snapped.
"See?" I grinned. "You've just found common ground."
Dayu made little choked noises, and finally managed to say, "...treason..."
"The way I figure it, Azula betrayed you first," I said.
"They can't stay here," said Hyung. "This is the Earth Kingdom. They're invaders."
"Their grandparents were invaders. These guys now, they're just … people."
"Lots of people will be very angry about this," said Hyung.
"I know. That's why you need sensible people in charge, who won't just make this a different kind of war."
Both men were silent for a long time.
Eventually, Dayu said, in a small voice, "Many people have children at school in the Fire Nation, or serving in the army. If they stay, they'll never get to see them again."
"If anyone wants to go back to the Fire Nation, they can," I said. "But anyone who stays -- that's it. They're part of the Earth Kingdom now. And it doesn't matter if the people of the Earth Kingdom don't believe that," I gave Hyung a hard look, "because Fire Lord Azula won't care very much."
"She might send her troops to reclaim it," Dayu said.
Hyung said, "This land means a lot to the people around here. We'd help you defend it, if we could be part of it again."
Cautiously, they shook hands.
It was a lot more complicated than that, of course. A mere colonel couldn't accept a defecting city, and Dayu had to answer to the city council. I spent days talking, persuading, pleading. Begging a little.
In the end, a lot of Fire Nation people left. Most of the upper classes were gone, and quite a few of the merchants. The majority of the commoners stayed, not having much to go back for, and maybe knowing that they'd be better off in the Earth Kingdom than as Azula's subjects.
I took to spending time in tea houses and bars, just listening to people talk. Not just about politics, but about their lives. Kids. Sweethearts.
One man, a factory worker, wanted to go back and kill Azula, but he was dissuaded by his friends.
"You won't get near her," said one, an older woman with a face scarred from an industrial accident, "and then she'll retaliate against all the common people in the capital." She moved her glass and traced a character in the moisture on the table. "Let the nobles take her out. They get the consequences. We get someone better. Everyone wins."
"Enough of that,," the barman said, and sent them on their way. While he was gone I slipped out of my little corner to look at the character she had written on the table. It said 'dawn'.
I was there for a few weeks, and by the time I left, the Earth Kingdom had reclaimed its lost city, and young earthbenders were learning traditional Fire Nation festival dances.
No more waiting. I knew what I had to do. We flew directly to Ba Sing Se, landing in the courtyard in front of Iroh's tea shop. A few people greeted me as I went inside, but I didn't stop to talk. I knew who I was looking for.
The tea shop was almost empty. I found Mai sitting at a table, her server's apron thrown over a chair, her hands curled around a cup of bitter-smelling tea. She looked tired and unhappy, but she looked up as I approached.
"I'm going to assassinate Azula," I told her. "Do you want to come?
Part 3
no subject
Date: 2011-08-17 04:34 pm (UTC). . .not that this describes most of fandom or anything!
Clad from top to bottom in furs so that only her mouth was visible, she looked like a very small, upright air bison.
Hee. Love that image.
I actually teared up a bit at the negotiation between Hyung and Dayu. Because oh, yes, that is what this world needs: healing.
And oh, Aang. So often taking just slightly the wrong lesson from what you're told and shown.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-20 05:20 am (UTC)