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Chapter Text

Azula looked at all the people crying around her and wondered distantly what they were so upset about. It wasn’t like Katara was dead. You needed a body to be dead, and they hadn’t found a body. Over a year had passed, and still no body.

“Katara is going to find this excruciatingly funny,” she observed to no one in particular. Unfortunately, Sokka was standing near enough to hear her. He took one look at her and started wailing again, throwing his arms around her neck and sobbing into her shoulder.

“You’re getting my robes wet,” she chided him gently, and he straightened, sniffling. Suki appeared behind him, holding the baby in one arm and a plate of dumplings in the other. Her eyes, as she looked at Azula, were so full of pity that Azula wanted to throw up.

“Have a dumpling,” Suki offered.

“Thanks,” Sokka said tearfully as Azula shook her head quickly. He stuffed two dumplings into his mouth in quick succession. “These were some of Katara’s favorites.”

Suki led him away, sobbing again. Azula stayed where she was. She hadn’t moved all evening, but people kept appearing next to her with their tears, their condolences, their pitying eyes. Now it was Zuko. He didn’t say anything, though, for which she was grateful – just stood next to her and placed one hand on her shoulder.

“She’s not dead,” Azula said firmly, because no one was listening to her.

Zuko squeezed her shoulder and said nothing.

--

It was very late by the time everyone finally left.

“Want to stay at ours?” Mai asked quietly as she and Ty Lee headed for the door. “So you won’t be alone tonight?”

Azula almost laughed at that. She’d been alone for over a year of nights now. One year and one month and three nights, to be exact. There was nothing different about this night. Nothing at all.

“I’ll be fine,” she said instead, giving Mai what she hoped looked like the comforting smile of a completely fine person. “Thank you for helping clean up.”

“Come over any time,” Ty Lee told her solemnly before pulling her into a fierce hug. “Even if it’s two a.m., or three a.m., or four a.m. –”

“I get it, Ty,” Azula cut her off. She wrapped her arms around the other woman for a moment, then pulled away. “Thank you.”

She waved her friends out the door, then turned back to the empty house. In the bedroom, she stowed her clothes carefully on her side of the dresser and laid down on her side of the bed, as she did every night. She stared up at the darkness, ferociously imagining Katara’s face when she found out they’d had a funeral for her.

“You thought I was dead?” she heard Katara say with a giggle. “I can’t believe it! You actually thought I was dead?”

I didn’t, she thought back, sending it out into the darkness like a promise, like a prayer. I never thought you were dead. She fell asleep with Katara’s name on her lips.

--

Their romance had blossomed slowly, unlike their friendship, which had been quick as flame and just as breathtaking, from Azula’s perspective anyway. She had returned to the Fire Nation two years after the war, once the psychologists at the hospital Zuko had sent her to could vouch for her recovery. Azula didn’t feel recovered; she felt diminished. Forbidden from firebending, cut from the line of succession, and directionless for the first time in her life, Azula now had nothing standing between her conception of herself and the reality of herself.

And the reality was grim. I certainly wouldn’t want to be seen with me, she thought wryly as yet another cluster of Fire Nation nobles hurried past her, studiously avoiding eye contact. It had been just a few weeks since her return, and Zuko had invited her to one of his by-then-famous full moon celebrations, at which courtiers and townspeople mingled and dined by moonlight.

When Katara had approached her, Azula had very consciously and purposefully not run in the other direction. She had tensed every muscle in her body, waiting for an attack – either physical or verbal, and either way entirely justified – that never came.

“I got too much fried dough,” sixteen-year-old Katara had said, holding out a plate piled high with steaming golden curls. “Want to share?”

Azula had eyed her suspiciously, wondering what kind of poison Katara had gotten her hands on and if it would work so fast that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the fried dough. Katara, perhaps sensing her hesitation, had popped a piece in her mouth and chewed happily, giggling at Azula’s wide eyes.

“The war’s over, Azula,” she’d said gently. “Enjoy the party.”

“I am,” Azula said quickly. “I just –” She raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”

She had meant it to be funny, but Katara’s eyes had softened. “I think I can take it,” she’d responded, and held out the plate again.

Azula had taken a small piece that turned out to be connected to several other pieces. She tried to catch the other pieces as they fell off the plate, only to be burned by the hot oil still dripping off a few of them. She cursed loudly, waving her fingers in the air.

Katara had burst out laughing and, after a moment of silence in which Azula waged a pitched internal battle with old instincts that told her to maintain dignity at all costs, she did too.

--

After Katara’s funeral, Azula threw herself into work. She was studying hard in preparation for her final exams: the tests that would finally qualify her (or not) for a position as a full instructor at the university, for which she had been preparing for years.

It had actually been Katara’s suggestion that had led Azula, grimly pessimistic, to enroll in a few university courses after her return to the Fire Nation. Katara herself had been studying healing at the School of Medicine within the university, even though she admitted to Azula privately that what she really wanted to do was write.

“Plays,” she’d responded, wistful, when Azula had pressed her for details. “I’d love to write plays that tell true stories – true stories as they actually happened.” Her face had hardened briefly.

“So that you can show everyone how incredible you and your friends were?” Azula had asked without thinking, then held her breath. She had never been sure how far was too far, in those early days – had always been waiting for Katara to lose patience, snap at her, send her away, end their friendship. Even once they were dating, then engaged, Azula had known that one wrong move on her part could ruin everything.

But Katara had chuckled ruefully and told her about the terrible play by the Ember Island Players that she and the others had seen a few days before the final battles. Azula had breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She hadn’t messed it up yet.

And she’d ended up loving the classes she signed up for. More than that: she’d learned she loved working with other students on complex problems, giving and receiving help freely. When she confided this to Katara, the other woman had smiled broadly.

“Azula – do you want to be a teacher?” she had asked, half-teasing. Azula had looked back at her, already getting defensive. Katara had sobered. “I think it’s an amazing idea,” she said seriously. They had been friends for nearly two years at that point, and Azula was constantly tamping down her growing feelings for Katara. It would never work, she had told herself again and again. She’s not for you. Just be grateful for the friendship.

In that moment, though, Katara had looked at her with a softness in her eyes that Azula recognized, and a hunger she did not. Katara had kissed her a week later. Azula still got butterflies in her stomach when she thought about it.

--

A few weeks after the funeral, Azula was perched on a stool in one of the student bars, reading a scroll for that evening’s class and distractedly wolfing down a bowl of spicy noodles.

She barely looked up when the royal messenger burst in through the door, and only put down her scroll when he was standing right in front of her, breathing hard.

“What?” she snapped, annoyed at the interruption.

“It’s Katara, my lady,” the boy said breathlessly. “She’s been found.”

Azula felt as if all the air had suddenly been squeezed out of her lungs.

“Where is she?” she managed.

The boy shook his head, took a deep breath. Azula reminded herself firmly that it would be counter-productive to strangle him.

“They took her to the main hospital,” he said after taking another breath. “His Majesty Fire Lord Zuko is meeting with diplomats, but –”

Azula never knew what he would have said next. She shoved her own scroll into her satchel and pushed past him, spicy noodles forgotten.

--

Azula saw Toph first when she arrived at the hospital. The small earthbender was pacing back and forth before a door, her hands clasped into fists by her sides.

“Toph!” Azula said loudly, striding into the room. “Where is she? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, they won’t let me back there,” Toph bit out, clearly incensed. “Sokka’s with her, but they’re only letting family back –” She jerked her head viciously at the man sitting behind a low wooden table next to the door, who shrugged apologetically and looked quickly away. “She’s alive, though, if that helps,” Toph added.

That was all Azula needed to hear. She approached the man behind the desk, donning imperiousness like a cloak.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “I am the Lady Azula, sister to His Majesty Fire Lord Zuko, and the woman in there is my betrothed. I assume I and my good friend are allowed to see her now?”

The man shook his head and started to say something, but Azula cut him off, bending forward. “I hate to imagine what my brother – His Majesty Fire Lord Zuko – would say if he learned that a hospital administrator kept his sister and future sister-in-law apart when one of them was in grave danger. Don’t you agree, Toph? Or do you think His Majesty would be pleased with that state of affairs?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Toph answered with relish. “It might end someone’s career. To start.” She cracked her knuckles menacingly.

The man gulped and nodded, gesturing them through the door.

“Thank you,” Azula said sweetly, and strode through the door, Toph close behind her.

Azula wondered briefly how they would find Katara, but saw Sokka almost immediately. He was standing in the hallway outside a closed door, wringing his hands and clearly trying to listen to what was going behind the door. His eyes lit up when he saw them.

“She’s stable, but unconscious,” he said as soon as they were within earshot, without Azula even having to ask. “Dehydrated, malnourished, with some minor burns and superficial wounds. The doctor kicked me out while they run some delicate tests, but she said I could come back in as soon as they were done.”

Azula opened her arms and Sokka hugged her back, sagging into her briefly before straightening back up. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said with a tired smile. “She looks so...small...”

Azula bit her lip and rubbed his back. They didn’t say anything for long moments, until a middle-aged woman opened the door and motioned them all inside.

“She’s sleeping naturally now,” the doctor said with a smile. “Doing great. I would encourage you all to remain with her until she wakes up. It will be nice for her to have some familiar faces.”

Azula nodded and followed Sokka and Toph into the room. When her eyes fell on Katara, though, she had to stop herself from gasping.

Her fiancée was tucked into a wide, low bed, with only her arms and face visible above the sheets. It was enough, though, to see that she had been through something quite brutal. Katara’s arms were terribly skinny and crisscrossed with cloth bandages, some of which were stained a dull red. Her cheeks were hollow and the skin around her eyes was sunken and dark. A multi-colored bruise spread up one side of her face. As Azula watched, Katara whimpered softly and flicked her fingers, her eyelids jumping.

“Oh, my love,” Azula whispered, and sank down on the floor beside the bed. She gently grasped one of Katara’s hands. On the other side of the bed, Sokka had done the same.

--

Azula wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She had fallen into a sort of quiet trance, focusing only on the feeling of Katara’s hand in hers and the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

She was watching Katara’s face when the other woman opened her eyes. Her head was tilted slightly to one side, so her gaze fell first on Sokka. She stared at him for a long moment, unblinking.

“S – Sokka?” she said quietly. Her voice was hoarse, but so deeply and undeniably hers that Azula felt tears spring to her eyes.

Sokka clearly felt the same. “Yeah, sis, it’s me,” he said, clasping her hand even more tightly. “Spirits, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve – I’ve missed you too,” Katara breathed. She reached up, absently dropping Azula’s hand, and Sokka leaned in gently, gently, to embrace her. Azula watched, her heart feeling like it might burst.

“Toph!” Katara exclaimed hoarsely, seeing the earthbender behind him as Sokka straightened up.

“Hey there, Sugar Queen,” Toph said with a watery smile. “Really glad to have you back.” Katara leaned forward, clearly meaning to hug Toph too, but fell back with a grimace and a hiss of pain.

“Easy there, love,” Azula chided gently, her eyes wet. “We don’t –”

“What the fuck?” Katara yelped, whipping her head around at the sound of Azula’s voice and shrinking back into the bed. “What is she doing here?”

Azula looked quickly behind her, tensing. Who was Katara reacting to? There was no one there.

She turned back around just in time to see Katara’s hands move. With a noise like a sword being drawn, the water in the cup a nurse had left by Katara’s bed rose up and became a pointed dagger of ice, flying straight at her heart.

“Hey!” Sokka yelled, just as Toph threw out her hands. A metal plate that had been leaning against the wall leapt up and blocked the ice dagger, shattering it into dozens of melting shards.

Azula stood still as the realization crashed over her.

Katara thinks I’m a threat, she thought numbly. My fiancée just attacked me. If Toph hadn’t responded so quickly...

“What are you doing?” Katara was yelling. “Toph, Sokka, she’s right there, get help, get me more water, she –”

A nurse burst into the room. “What in the Heavens is going on here?” she demanded. Katara pointed a furious finger at Azula.

“She’s trying to attack me and my friends, she’s been after us for months! You have to raise an alarm! Fire Nation forces are invading!”

The nurse looked between Katara and Azula, dumbfounded. Sokka grabbed his sister’s hand.

“Katara, please – listen,” he pleaded. “Azula is here to see you. She –”

“We’re engaged,” Azula cut in. “We’re engaged to be married. Do you – do you not remember?”

She watched Katara’s face shift from fear, to confusion, to –

Disgust.

Azula felt her stomach drop.

“You and I? Engaged?” Katara shook her head vehemently. “No, no, I don’t think so. That doesn’t sound like something I would ever want to do.”

Sokka shot a glance at Azula and quickly looked away again. “It’s true, sis. You’ve been dating for years now, you’re in love –”

“No,” Katara interrupted. “Sokka, she’s up to something. I would never fall in love with someone like her –”

“Katara, I –” Azula began, taking a step toward the bed. At her movement, though, Katara flinched violently back. Her eyes, as she looked at Azula, were equal parts outraged and terrified.

Azula felt something in her break. “I’m scaring you,” she said quietly. Then, to Toph and Sokka: “I’m leaving. Please –” She swallowed hard. “Please let me know if –”

“We will,” Toph said quickly. Sokka nodded.

Azula walked out of the room, feeling their eyes on her like burning coals. She didn’t stop walking until she was back in her room at the house she and Katara had shared.

Then she sank slowly down until she was sitting with her back pressed against the side of the bed. She did not cry.

--

Toph found her there later – how much later, Azula wasn’t sure. She registered, dully, that night seemed to have fallen outside the bedroom windows.

“Hey, Lightning Bug,” Toph said quietly, sinking down to sit beside her. “Have you eaten?”

Azula shook her head. The thought of food made her stomach churn.

Toph seemed to understand. She took one of Azula’s hands in her own.

“Katara is doing well,” she began slowly, as if unsure how much Azula would get. “The doctor says her body is healing itself more quickly than anticipated – waterbenders, you know, always having to one-up the rest of us.” She rolled her eyes affectionately and Azula squeezed her hand. Then Toph sobered. “Her memory is...a different story,” she said hesitantly. “She seems to know that years have passed since the war, but everything is muddled, or hazy, or just not there. The doctor says that this happens sometimes when someone has a very traumatic experience. Their brain sort of – tries to protect itself by –”

“By blocking out painful memories,” Azula cut in. Like our relationship, I guess.

“Well, complex memories, the doctor said,” Toph corrected hurriedly. “Memories that don’t necessarily immediately fit with someone’s core conception of themselves...” She trailed off as Azula shut her eyes. “The good news is, the doctor said it would help Katara if we tell her about what has happened since the war. You know – kind of try to re-activate her memories from the outside. Sokka’s going to start tomorrow, once she’s had a good night’s sleep.”

Azula nodded, her eyes still closed. “Thank you for telling me,” she said quietly. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“We’ll fix this,” Toph assured her, squeezing her hand again. “Sokka and Aang and I, Zuko – we’ll all tell her how much you were in love, how happy you made her, how happy you were together –”

Azula turned her head away from Toph’s hopeful voice. If only it were that simple, she thought tiredly. That simpl,e to recreate something that never should have happened in the first place.

Aloud, she hummed her assent.

“Want to have dinner?” Toph asked after a moment. “I’ll cook.”

It was a running joke between the two of them: neither of them could so much as boil water without ruining something. Azula huffed a tired laugh.

“I think I’ll take my chances alone, thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate you coming here, Toph, but I think – I need –”

The small earthbender nodded and snuggled closer to Azula’s side for a moment, resting her head on Azula’s shoulder.

“Please send word if you need anything,” she said finally. “Or if you want somewhere to stay tonight –”

“You’ll have to fight Mai and Ty Lee,” Azula answered. She nudged Toph gently with her elbow. “Thank you,” she said seriously. I don’t deserve you, she thought, but did not say it. Toph got upset when she talked like that.

As soon as Toph was gone, Azula regretted sending her away. She had thought she needed space, but sitting alone in the empty house, surrounded by traces of her and Katara’s relationship, was immeasurably worse.

She packed a bag, focusing intently on each item she put in it, and headed out the door. She didn’t cry until Ty Lee opened the door and drew her into a silent embrace. Then, and only then, did she let herself sob, but only for a little while.

--

News came to Azula in fits and spurts over the next few days. The two men who had kidnapped and kept Katara prisoner had been apprehended by the Royal Guard and sentenced to life in prison. They had been two of Ozai’s staunchest supporters until the end – Azula actually recognized their names, distantly, when Mai told her. Her stomach twisted.

“Thank the gods,” she said aloud. This won’t help Katara trust me again, she thought privately, then hated herself a little bit for thinking it.

Maybe Katara shouldn’t trust me, she thought. Mai took her hands gently.

“You’re being mean to yourself,” she said, startling a laugh from Azula. That was Ty Lee’s phrase. Hearing it in Mai’s deep voice was incongruous. Azula squeezed her hands.

There would be long stretches when no news arrived. Azula appreciated Toph and Aang keeping her posted, and couldn’t blame them when they were too caught up in Katara’s recovery, or too tired from talking through the events of the last ten years, to remember to fill her in. Nearly a week after Katara’s return, Azula received a message from Aang that he and the rest of Katara’s friends had finished the bulk of their stories.

She’ll send you a message when she’s ready for you, his letter concluded, and Azula took a deep breath. This was fine. She could do this.

But the message didn’t come. It was another week and a half before Azula began to wonder what was wrong. It was a sunny afternoon and she was kneeling in the garden behind Mai and Ty Lee’s house, savagely pulling up weeds to keep her mind from wandering in a bad direction. The fireflowers were blooming, bursts of orange and red against the bright white of the house’s exterior wall. Azula ripped out another weed and tossed it over her shoulder. She wondered if Mai was back from the market yet, and if she had gotten more plums.

Katara cleared her throat behind her and Azula whirled around. For a moment, she didn’t see anyone, and wondered wildly if she was imagining things, but the other woman stepped out from the shadowy doorway rather sheepishly. She was looking at Azula warily, slightly bemused, but with a frown creasing her forehead. Azula was suddenly very conscious of the dirt caked under her fingernails and the strands of hair that clung damply to her forehead.

“Katara,” she said, unsure what else to say. Quickly, she stood, brushing her robes off self-consciously. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m here to call off our engagement,” Katara said in a rush. She watched Azula, wide-eyed. Azula took a breath.

“I haven’t told you my memories of the past ten years,” she said, keeping her voice steady through a supreme force of will. “You don’t have all the information.”

“I have enough,” Katara said simply, waving one of her hands. Her beautiful, long-fingered hand. Azula focused on it so she wouldn’t have to look at Katara’s face, but the hand was almost worse. “My friends are all enamored of you, for some reason, and I believe that maybe I once enjoyed your company – although that is also difficult for me to believe –” She cut off suddenly and seemed to gather her thoughts. Tried again. “I mean, you have to agree that we don’t really...make sense. Together.” Katara’s voice was so cold. Azula almost shivered in the summer heat. “And no matter how much my friends seem to think you’ve changed, I just can’t think of you as anything other than the monster who hunted and tormented us for months, and whose father caused the death of my mother. Whose followers kidnapped me and kept me in a basement. I could never marry someone like that. Someone like you.”

She paused, watching Azula warily.

As if she were afraid of what Azula might do.

“I understand,” Azula said. She did. They had never made sense together. Azula had tried to be good enough for someone like Katara, but of course she had never succeeded. In some ways, it was almost a relief.

Almost.

“You do?” Katara asked. She sounded surprised. “Wow. From what Sokka and Aang and Toph said, it really seemed like you were in love with me. I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

Azula didn’t move. “I am in love with you,” she said quietly.

Katara rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sure, now I see it.” She scoffed. “Look, I still don’t know what you’re playing at, but we’re done, Azula. Have a nice life.” She turned to leave, then shot back: “Stay away from me and my friends.”

Then she was gone, and Azula was alone.

Well, not completely alone. A moment later, Mai emerged through the doorway Katara had just exited through, holding a plum in her pale hand. Wordlessly, she held it out to Azula, an offering.

Azula took it. Took a bite. Then her legs folded slowly, slowly, so that she was kneeling on the hard earth, and Mai was kneeling beside her, hugging her shoulders tightly, and Azula wanted to tell her that she was fine, that this all made sense, but she couldn’t even breathe, so she stayed quiet, the plum’s juice running across her palm.

--

“You can stay as long as you need,” Mai said that night over dinner. Ty Lee nodded, her eyes huge in her delicate face.

Of course, Azula wanted to stay there forever, with people who loved her. Unfortunately, she knew that love could turn, change, disappear with little to no warning. After another week, she left, over the protests of the other two.

“I’ve disrupted your home life enough,” she said with a wry smile.

She didn’t add: seeing the two of you happy together makes me want to gouge my eyes out. She wasn’t a good person. She didn’t need to remind them of that, of why they shouldn’t be friends with her.

She couldn’t go back home, though, so she moved into a small apartment near the university. It was nice because she was so much closer to her classes, and because she could study through the night without bothering anyone. It was nice because she didn’t have to eat until she remembered she was hungry, instead of being pestered by someone else to keep regular mealtimes. It was nice because, when she came home at the end of the day, she didn’t have to make conversation with anyone.

Of course, a less nice thing was that she missed Katara with a depth and fierceness that frightened her when she thought about it too hard. So she didn’t think about it, at least not when she could help it. She had always been good at compartmentalizing.

Chapter Text

Katara seemed to be angry a lot these days. The Fire Nation doctor who’d been treating her said it was an understandable side effect of having a year of your life and ten years of memories taken from you against your will. It didn’t make her feel any better though. He always said it in a condescending way that made Katara want to scream.

When Katara wasn’t angry, she was – uncomfortable. Was uncomfortable the right word? All of her friends had grown up without her. No, I was there, she reminded herself multiple times a day. I just can’t remember it right now. The war that still felt so – so close to her was ten years gone to them. She knew – she knew – that Aang had defeated Ozai, and that Zuko was the Fire Lord now, and that her brother had married Suki, had had a baby, and that the world was, if not at peace, at least peaceful enough – but none of it felt real.

Except that in another sense, it was all too real and she was the one who was out of sync, the one who had fallen behind. In the better moments, Katara could tell herself that things would get easier as she made new memories.

In the hardest moments, she felt like an imposter in her own life. Like a ghost.

It made her stomach hurt.

Katara had been discharged from Caldera Hospital after a week and a half. The first thing she did was break off her engagement to Azula, which felt good in a way: a strange mistake from her former self, finally corrected. She nodded to Ty Lee on her way out, who had let her in, and to Mai, who had clearly just come home from the market. They watched her go, unsmiling. She didn’t stop to ask them what they were thinking.

She moved in with Sokka and Suki first, because they invited her and she liked the idea of getting to spend more time with her brother.

Except, between his job as Zuko’s arms master and his new daughter, Sokka had hardly any time to spare. Suki, too, was as busy as a new mother who was also a warrior could expect to be. And while Katara loved spending time with fourteen-month-old Aiko, she felt herself rapidly becoming uncomfortable – yes, that was the word – with constantly feeling like a guest.

Plus, she wanted to live with roommates who didn’t treat her like she was about to break.

She tried moving in with Toph next. “Sorry about the mess,” the earthbender said, smirking. Katara took one look at the state of the main room and walked right back out. She and Toph agreed that it would be better for their friendship if they weren’t roommates.

Instead of moving Katara’s things into Toph’s apartment that afternoon, they went out to lunch. “I love this place!” Katara exclaimed when Toph dragged her into a tea shop a few blocks away. Toph grinned up at her.

“I know,” she said, and bumped Katara’s shoulder with her own to take the sting out of the words. “Get us a table while I go poop.”

Katara smiled at the server who had just come up to her and who had wrinkled his nose at Toph’s words. “Table for two, please,” she said politely, and chuckled quietly as he led her to a table by one of the back windows. She was just sitting down when she spotted a familiar tattooed head a few tables away.

“Aang!” she called happily, and waved when he looked up. Oddly, instead of waving back, he winced as if something had pained him and flicked his eyes back to the person sitting across from him with their back to Katara. Curious, Katara rose and made her way over, meaning to say a quick hello and then rejoin Toph. When she saw who he was eating with, though, her stomach clenched violently.

Azula’s lips were pressed into a thin line and she was staring straight ahead. Katara was momentarily startled by the dark circles under Azula’s eyes and the gauntness of her cheeks. It looked like she had aged a year in the two weeks since Katara had ended their engagement.

“Katara! Hi!” Aang said, clearly trying desperately for a semblance of normalcy. “Azula and I were just talking about one of her students – he came to class on a monkey bear, can you imagine?”

Azula had still not looked at Katara, which, for some reason, made Katara furious.

“Is this what you call staying away from me and my friends?” she bit out. Azula flinched, but still didn’t look up at her.

“Katara –” Aang began, but Azula raised a placating hand.

“Aang is my friend too, Katara,” she said, her voice low and steady. Katara saw red.

“You killed him,” she exclaimed, bringing a hand down on the table so forcefully that the teacups rattled. “You shot lightning at him and left me to pick up the pieces – how dare you –”

Azula stood so quickly that Katara flinched back. An image rose before her eyes of lightning arcing through a cave and cold golden eyes, flames dancing on walls as dry as bone and pain, unending pain –

With a cry, she stumbled backwards into another table, upsetting several more teacups. The startled cries of three strangers brought her partly back to the present and she turned, shaking, cringing, trying to pick up the pieces but her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn’t move, she was trapped, she would die down here, far from her friends and her family and in pain and she would never see Azula again –

What? The incongruous thought brought her the rest of the way back to the present and she realized that the hands on her were Toph’s: small, calloused, stronger than iron and far gentler. She was lying on the floor of a bright little tea shop in Caldera and Toph was kneeling over her, whispering nonsense syllables while she stroked Katara’s hand. Aang was standing a few feet away, talking earnestly to the tea shop proprietor, and Azula was nowhere to be seen.

Wincing, Katara sat up, Toph’s hand still clasped in her own. “What –” she began, then swallowed hard. “What happened?”

“You had a flashback, sweetness,” Toph said seriously, rubbing her upper back now. “The doctor said this might happen. You’re ok, though. We’re here, and you’re free, and we can get some tea and soup, how does that sound?”

“I think,” Katara said, hating how small her voice sounded. “I think I’d just like to go home.”

Toph nodded and helped her stand up. Aang broke off his conversation immediately and hurried over to her.

“Master Yao says he hopes you feel better soon,” he said, his eyes huge and tender in his pale face. Katara gave him a quick hug.

“Thank you, Aang,” she said softly. “I – I’m sorry I ruined your lunch.”

He shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re ok,” he said solemnly. “Azula was heartbroken when she realized what had happened. I –”

“Maybe this will teach her to stay away from people she tried to kill,” Katara replied with a shaky laugh. She didn’t like how Aang’s face fell at her words.

“That was a long time ago, Katara,” he said, almost pleading.

“Not to me,” Katara said simply, and left, holding Toph’s hand firmly enough that no one would see her own hands shake.

--

When they got back to Toph’s apartment, they found a message waiting for them in neat, spikey handwriting:

I should have done this before. I’m sorry. The house is yours, and everything in it, if you want it. It’s at the end of Gingko Street.

- Azula

Katara fell into Toph’s bed and slept for fifteen hours.

--

She went to see the house a few days later. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. For the first time since she remembered waking up in the hospital, she felt a little less uncomfortable.

Katara moved in the next day.

She aggressively didn’t think about Azula. She’d never been very good at compartmentalizing, though, so it didn’t really work.

She did, however, start seeing a mind healer who came highly recommended by Zuko. It was supremely uncomfortable – that word again – to sit down with a stranger and try to put into words the way she still felt anxious when she saw fire, or how she still didn’t really know who she was anymore, or the way she felt left behind in her own life. How, even though she didn’t remember most of the past year – just the darkness, and the chains, and the fire, and the pain – certain feelings would resurface when she least expected them to and take her over. How the war still felt so close – too close.

Katara often found herself getting madder and madder during the sessions: angry with herself, angry with her kidnappers, angry with her friends for not finding her sooner (it was unfair, but Mind Healer Chung-Ae said she got to be unfair sometimes), angry with herself again. Chung-Ae was unceasingly patient, asking gentle questions and letting her be mad, be loud, break down into tears or throw pillows at the wall. As the weeks passed, Katara found herself talking less about the flashbacks and more about her life before: what she could remember of it and who she might have been.

“I just want things to go back to normal,” she said plaintively one day, a month or so after beginning to see Chung-Ae twice a week. They were sitting in the front room of the mind healer’s home where she saw her clients. Cups of tea still steamed on the table between them.

Chung-Ae smiled mischievously. “And what does ‘normal’ mean?” she asked with the glint in her eye that told Katara she was going to have to do some work. Katara grimaced.

“Feeling like myself,” she began. “Or – I don’t know – feeling like I’m where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Not feeling like I’m just going through the motions. In someone else’s life.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Chung-Ae asked. Katara nodded. “When you think about your life before your kidnapping but after the war, do you identify with the person you were? Or is she more separate from you, like a character in a story?”

Katara thought for a moment. “She’s more separate,” she answered finally. “My friends all told me stories about the past ten years in the first weeks after I – woke up – but that’s all it feels like. Just a lot of stories about someone I sort of know, but who I don’t really understand.”

“Why don’t you feel like you understand her?” Chung-Ae asked, tilting her head. Katara wrinkled her nose and said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Because she was in love with Azula.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I can’t understand that at all.”

“And whose life are you living, right now?” Chung-Ae pressed gently. “Hers? Or your own?”

“Neither,” Katara said, clenching her fists. She took a deep breath, forced herself to speak evenly. “I feel like I’m not.” At Chung-Ae’s questioning look, she clarified: “Not really living, I mean. Just going through the motions, like I said.”

“And at least part of this is because of how you used to feel towards Azula?” Chung-Ae asked. A moment passed. Katara nodded.

“I wonder,” said Chung-Ae, musingly. “I wonder what would happen if you got to know Azula a little bit more, now? Not to try to fall back in love with her,” she added quickly, seeing Katara’s brow darken. “Just so that you might be able to understand a bit better what you used to see in her? To connect more with your other self?” She smiled gently. “Of course, there’s nothing saying you have to connect with your past self at all. We are always making ourselves new, each and every day. But since this seems to be something you’re thinking about,” she finished. “I just wonder.”

--

Katara wondered about it too. In the days after that particular session, she wondered about it a lot.

Toph got so annoyed with her continually bringing up Azula and what she had seen in her and why they had been going out that she finally snapped “Ask her yourself!” and stormed out of the room.

Which was how Katara came to be sitting in a tea shop near the University a week later, clenching and unclenching her fists nervously and wondering what she had been thinking.

She saw Azula as soon as she entered. Katara’s stomach immediately clenched and she took several deep breaths, willing herself to stay calm. She can’t hurt me here, Katara told herself. There are too many witnesses.

Azula was scanning the tables quickly, a marked crease between her eyebrows. When she saw Katara, her shoulders tensed for a moment before she smoothed her face and lowered her shoulders, making her way towards the table Katara had claimed toward the back. Katara stood, then wished she hadn’t, but she stayed standing until Azula was in front of her. She was watching her with a certain kind of wariness that made sense when Katara realized that the last time they had been in the same space, Katara herself had freaked out and ended up on the floor.

She felt herself flushing but did not look away.

“Hello,” Azula said in that low, quiet voice that immediately set Katara’s teeth on edge.

“Hi,” Katara replied, awkwardly. They bowed, then sat down. Katara poured Azula a cup of tea from the pot in the middle of the table and was very proud that her hands did not shake.

“Thank you,” Azula said, bringing the cup to her lips. She took a sip, her eyes fixed on the table between them.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“How are you?” Azula asked, at the same time as Katara said: “I need to ask you something.”

Azula chuckled and motioned for Katara to go ahead. Katara took a deep breath.

“I need to know why we started going out in the first place,” she said in a rush. “What did I see in you? And I’m fine,” she added as an afterthought. “I’m seeing a mind healer. Zuko told me about it.”

“Did he,” Azula said expressionlessly. She took a deep breath. “Is that what prompted this question?”

Katara nodded and Azula pursed her lips. “I should have known. Mind healers do seem to stir up the most painful things.” She smoothed her face out again, so quickly that Katara couldn’t quite identify the emotions that had flitted across it. When she met Katara’s eyes, her expression was one of bland, mild interest.

“I’m afraid I can’t be much help in that department,” she said finally. “I wondered that myself for years, you see. You were always far too good for me.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound very happy. “I don’t even know how we became friends, really. You just came up to me – it was at one of Zuko’s Full Moon parties, my first one back after –” She swallowed. “And you offered me some fried dough.”

Katara was quiet, waiting for her to continue, but Azula took another sip of her tea.

“That’s it?” Katara asked after another moment of increasingly awkward silence. Azula shrugged.

“That was the beginning of us being friends,” she said carefully. “And then we kissed for the first time about two years later. I had been falling in love with you for some time,” she added, shifting slightly in her chair. “But I have no idea what made you fall – what made you like me.”

Katara suddenly felt irritated. “Oh, come on, Azula. You’re telling me I never mentioned to you why I loved you? Not even once, in all our years as a couple?” Katara suddenly realized she was leaning forward over the table, as if that would get her closer to understanding who she had been. What she had seen in the pale woman before her.

“No,” Azula responded, short. “You didn’t. And I never asked, I’m not needy.” She paused. “The sex was amazing.”

Katara felt her cheeks heat again and she sat back abruptly, but she didn’t break eye contact. This conversation seemed to be turning into more of a staring contest, and she suddenly did not want to lose.

“You would tell me I was beautiful sometimes, afterwards,” Azula continued. She tilted her chin up, oddly defiant. “But I knew that you loved me from how you looked at me, and how you treated me. I didn’t need to know why.” She paused again and seemed to rethink what she had just said. “At least – I guess – I thought I knew.”

She neatly tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. And took another sip of her tea. Her face had grown sharper, somehow. Katara suddenly felt a little afraid of her. She took a sip of her own tea, which was starting to grow cold.

“So that’s all you can tell me?” she asked finally. She was starting to get angry again, and she wished she wasn’t. “I’m trying to figure out who I used to be and who I am now and all you can tell me is that you don’t know either? When you’re supposed to have loved me?”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Katara,” Azula said flatly. “You asked what you saw in me and I’ve told you I don’t know. I’ve never known. Whatever piece of yourself you think you’re still missing that I’m holding hostage, I don’t have it.” She put her teacup down on the table so carefully that it didn’t make a sound. “I’m going to leave now, and I would appreciate it if you did not contact me again. Not about this.”

Katara nodded and watched as Azula stood and swept out of the tea shop. She took another sip of her tea.

It was definitely cold now, but Katara barely noticed.

--

“Is it so difficult to believe?” Zuko asked her mildly that evening. He had invited all their friends over for dinner but Katara had been the only one who could make it, and she was secretly glad. Everyone else was tired of hearing her talk about Azula at this point.

“That I would fall in love with the girl who repeatedly tried to kill me and everyone I love?” Katara clarified with a snort.

“That you would fall in love with Azula,” Zuko clarified. “After all, you and I had a bit of a thing going on back then, if memory serves –” Katara snorted into her drink but Zuko continued blandly, “– and I’m also one of Ozai’s children who repeatedly tried to kill you.”

Katara poked at her food with her chopsticks, trying to put an answer into words.

“It’s just...she was so into it,” she finally said. “You were cruel and you hunted us mercilessly, but when it really mattered — when you saw what your father was doing — you came to us. To Aang. You made amends when it counted.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how I could love her without her having made amends too, but trying to make up for that kind of thing after the war was over just feels so...disingenuous.”

“I saw what my father was doing because he exiled me, Katara,” Zuko said quietly. “And I had Uncle with me to help open my eyes. And it was hard. Even away from Ozai, it was hard to grasp that everything I had been taught was a lie. I almost didn’t. Over and over again.”

“But you did,” Katara said fiercely. “And she didn’t.”

“No,” Zuko agreed. “Ozai kept her close. He saw a certain kind of fire in her and he kindled it. My sister is very talented. When she puts her mind to something, she’ll be the best or she’ll die trying.” He snorted softly. “It was our bad luck that Ozai set her to killing.”

“So, what, you’re saying that she never had a choice? That seems awfully convenient,” Katara snapped. She pitched her voice high and whining. “Oh, have pity, I was but a poor little child and my father told me to kill these villagers, what was I to do?”

“I won’t defend her actions under my father,” Zuko said mildly. His eyes were serious. “Neither, I think, would she. But you can never know what it was like to grow up in our family. The absolute conditionality of our father’s love. She learned how to secure it early on, earlier than I did. And once she had it, she couldn’t let it go. It had cost her our mother, it had cost her everything. That was what he did,” Zuko continued, leaning towards her over the table. “He made it so that he was the only one who could ever love her because of what he had made her do, what he would make her do. But he didn’t force her. Oh no. That might have earned her Mother’s sympathy, or Uncle’s compassion. He made her the instrument of her own demise. She chose to follow him, again and again, because he was all she had. And now she has to live with that. Forever.”

Katara felt as if all the breath had left her body. She had talked with Zuko at length about the abuse he had suffered at Ozai’s hands, both when he had first joined them (although not right after – it had taken some time) and since she had woken up, but he had never mentioned Azula in this way. What he was describing now –

“You’re right,” she said slowly. “I can never know what that was like, growing up in your family. But I can also make the choice to stay away from the person who tormented me and tried to kill my family, can’t I?”

“Of course, you can,” Zuko said, putting his hand over hers on the table. “I understand that. Azula understands that, too. She’s been giving you space, right?”

Katara nodded. “I hadn’t seen her in weeks until this afternoon.”

“I still can’t believe you invited her to tea to ask her what you saw in her,” Zuko said, taking a bit of his fish. “That’s a special kind of cold, Katara.”

“It was an honest question!” Katara exclaimed, stung despite the teasing light in his eyes. “And she didn’t seem phased by it at all, just thoughtful.”

“Yes, my sister has always been known for her emotional openness and vulnerability.”

“Not like you,” Katara shot back, and Zuko laughed again. It was a nice sound. His hand was still covering her own.

Tentatively, she turned her hand over so that they were palm to palm, and squeezed.

Zuko’s eyes flicked to her face and he squeezed her hand back. Then he withdrew his hand, slowly but steadily. He shook his head at her questioning look.

“No, Katara. I can’t be what you want me to be. Even if I felt that way about you – I could never do that to Azula.”

“But what if we were in love?” Katara asked breathlessly. She was suddenly remembering all those moments of lingering eye contact and hesitant touches with excruciating clarity.

“You don’t love me, Katara,” Zuko said firmly. “You’re living in the past.”

The wave of anger that crashed over Katara was unexpected, and substantial, and propelled her to her feet.

“Take that back,” she hissed. Zuko’s eyes were wide and alarmed.

“Katara, please – breathe. I’m sorry I said –”

“Take. It. Back,” she ground out between clenched teeth.

“Ok, ok! I take it back,” Zuko said, lifting both hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. Please – let’s talk about something else?”

But Katara was still too angry. The rage was boiling over, rolling off her in waves. All the liquid in the room was vibrating and she couldn’t make it stop.

“I think I’ll just head home and try to remember the last ten years of my life so I don’t have to live in the past,” she spat, and turned on her heel.

It was only when she got home and slammed the door behind her that she realized she had forgotten to ask Zuko about the play.

--

The play was something of a mystery. A note had shown up at her door a few days ago from a Master Bitu, inviting her to come to a rehearsal for a play that she herself had apparently written. A lengthy casting process and some difficulties securing a space had made it so that they had only just started rehearsals a few weeks ago, despite her having finished the play over a year ago, right before she was kidnapped. Master Bitu would be honored, if her energy and time permitted, to host her as playwright at one of their upcoming rehearsals. Then he had listed several days and times as options.

Katara was baffled. Her friends had told her she had started writing plays, which did seem interesting and went a long way to making up for the fact that her former self had also been engaged to Azula, but they hadn’t said anything about a recent play that was just going into production. With one thing and another, she hadn’t remembered to ask any of them about it. The rehearsal to which she was planning to go was tomorrow.

I guess I’ll just find out what it’s about when I see it.

Master Bitu was thrilled to see her the next day. He showed her to a seat a few rows back from the raised stage, and fussed over her solicitously until she assured him that she had already eaten and didn’t need any refreshments. Then he clapped his hands and the rehearsal began.

It was early days, still. None of the actors were in costume yet, and there were frequent pauses to clarify marking and gesture and dialogue. But the actors were skillful, the writing clear and to the point. The theme of the play was immediately, excruciatingly, obvious.

It was, of course, an autobiographical retelling of her and Azula’s relationship. The irony was so bitter that Katara wanted to spit. They seemed to be rehearsing one of the final scenes that day, and the two actors playing herself and Azula could not take their eyes off each other. Every few minutes, the woman playing Katara reached out and touched the woman playing Azula – just touched her, on the shoulder, on the back, on the arm – in the middle of a conversation. Fake Azula – as Katara was thinking of her – seldom reacted to the touch beyond a slight smile, but at one point, she looked over at fake Katara with a look of such warmth, such love, that Katara herself suddenly felt breathless.

As if Azula would ever look at me like that, she thought bitterly, then wondered why she felt so jealous.

It was probably because the woman playing Azula on stage was astonishingly gorgeous. Long, lustrous dark hair framed a pale face with striking, defined features. When she laughed, Katara found herself laughing too. When she glanced out at the audience and gave Katara a sly wink, Katara ducked her head, feeling like a teenager again. When the woman came up to her after the day’s rehearsal was done and introduced herself, Katara was entranced.

“Song-lee,” she said by way of introduction. Her voice was rich and low, like twilight.

“Katara,” Katara replied, eloquently.

“I know,” Song-lee smiled. “You gave us these beautiful words. I was so glad to hear that you’d been found safe and sound.”

“Um, right. Yes. Thank you,” Katara said uncomfortably. “You – are a very talented actress.”

“A lovely compliment from Azula’s betrothed,” Song-lee said, flicking her eyes down so that her long, dark eyelashes fluttered down against her cheek. “I’m glad I can do your beloved justice.”

“Oh no, I – we’re not – we called it off,” Katara said, still eloquently. Song-lee’s eyes flicked back up. They were dark amber, nothing like Azula’s predatory gold.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” Song-lee said, in a way that suggested she wasn’t very sorry at all.

--

Later that night, when Song-lee kissed Katara in her opulent apartment, Katara realized her stomach wasn’t upset at all. On the contrary, she felt absolutely nothing. Glorious, unruffled, magnificent nothing.

Who’s living in the past now? she thought savagely, and deepened the kiss.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Azula didn’t even need to look up from her scroll to know that Katara was making baby penguin-seal eyes at her.

“Katara, I told you, I need to finish this paper, it’s due at midnight and the professor already hates me –”

“He’s an asshole, screw him. If he gives you any more trouble, tell him your fiancée is going to mess him up.”

Azula sighed heavily. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What?” Katara’s voice was all honeyed innocence. When Azula finally turned around, she fought to hold back a smile.

“You know I go weak when you use that word.”

“What word?” Now Katara was grinning, mischief creeping into her eyes. I love her, Azula thought, the force of it still shocking her after all these years. And she loves me.

“Fiancée,” she groaned, and Katara crowed with triumph, throwing herself into Azula’s lap and wrapping her arms around Azula’s neck.

“So, you’ll come?”

“I’ll come,” Azula sighed, wrapping her own arms around Katara’s waist and squeezing. “But if I get murdered by Professor Han tomorrow, you’ll have only yourself to blame.”

Katara was peering at the scroll over her shoulder. “Um, babe? How long was this assignment supposed to be, again?”

“Nine inches,” Azula muttered. Katara held up the scroll and laughed as easily three feet of parchment cascaded to the floor.

“I think you’ve done enough, love,” she said, pressing a kiss to Azula’s temple. “Come laugh at Aang’s impersonation of drunk Zuko with me.”

“Fine,” Azula drawled dramatically, pushing Katara off her lap so that she could stand up. “But if anyone tries to do an impersonation of me...”

“I’ll mess ‘em up,” Katara murmured, dropping a kiss on the end of Azula’s nose. “That’s a promise.”

Azula gasped as she woke up, as if she were surfacing after too long underwater.

It was a long time before she fell back to sleep.

--

“So, she invited you for tea to ask you what she had seen in you?” Ty Lee asked incredulously. Azula nodded, grimacing. “Why?”

“She said it was something to do with a mind healer,” Azula said dully, picking at the food before her with her chopsticks. “But maybe she just wanted to destroy me, emotionally.”

“I can’t see Katara doing that,” Mai said thoughtfully from across the table. Azula practically had to read her lips to know what she was saying. They had all met at a restaurant quite near Azula’s new apartment, which meant it was quite near the university, and that meant that it was filled to the brim with drunk students, even now as exams were approaching. The noise level was incredible, but Azula hadn’t wanted to go anywhere farther away. She hadn’t really wanted to go anywhere at all, not with her teaching exam fast approaching, but Mai and Ty Lee had practically forced her out of her apartment at knifepoint, so here they were. “She’s much too honorable.”

Azula snorted. “Maybe I bring out the worst in her,” she said, and took a huge bite of rice so she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. Mai just gave her a look, but took the hint and asked Ty Lee about her training that day, for which Azula was grateful.

She took another bite of rice and tried to listen, like a good friend should, but her mind kept running back to the meeting with Katara in the tea shop the previous week. Azula had been on edge, wary of prompting another flashback, especially when it was just her and Katara meeting (and she had run away when it had happened before, halfway through her lunch with Aang, horrified and devastated and absolutely unprepared to deal with the fact that her former fiancée not only couldn’t stand her, but couldn’t stand the sight of her without it prompting her to revisit the worst trauma of her life. Azula had never considered herself a coward. She did now).

She couldn’t stop thinking about how lost Katara had looked. Not just uncomfortable meeting with an enemy-turned-lover-turned-enemy, but lost, and pleading, as if she hoped that Azula could help her somehow.

Unsurprisingly, Azula had failed her. Stop. Thinking. About. Katara, she told herself sternly. She was becoming less and less good at doing that, though. The dreams didn’t help.

Ty Lee was telling a story that was clearly meant to be funny, if Mai’s demure smile was anything to go by. Azula forced out a chuckle and reached for her drink. The noise level swelled as the door to the rowdy street opened and closed. Azula glanced over – an old habit that she was really trying to break because she did not want to recognize any of her students here – and felt her fingers turn to ice.

It was Katara, with an incredibly beautiful woman hanging on her arm. As Azula watched, the woman leaned over and whispered something in Katara’s ear that made her giggle. The woman – who Azula decided at that moment was the worst person in the entire world – smiled and pressed a kiss to Katara’s temple. Azula watched Katara melt briefly into the contact, then turn her face toward the other woman and catch her lips with her own.

Azula felt something inside herself snap.

“Um, Azula?” Ty Lee’s voice was slightly muffled. “Why are you under the table?”

“I dropped something,” Azula shouted, trying desperately to pick out Katara’s legs through the press of people between their table and door. Her view was interrupted by Mai’s bored face.

“What the fuck,” she deadpanned, and Azula grimaced, not wanting to admit, even to herself, what was going on.

Fortunately, Mai could practically read minds when she wanted to. Her eyebrows rose.

“Here?” she asked disbelievingly. Azula nodded. “And she’s with someone,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. Mai huffed a sigh.

“I’ll go settle up,” she said, and her face disappeared, followed by her legs from beneath the table. After a moment, Ty Lee’s hand reached out and patted Azula’s head awkwardly. Azula leaned against Ty Lee’s knee and allowed herself a moment of relief. Mai would pay for their food and then they could get out of there. Katara and her – girlfriend who is better than me in every way, Azula’s traitorous mind supplied – would surely be at their own table and distracted by the menus. This situation could still turn out alright.

Azula should have known that nothing in her life could ever be that simple.

“Ty Lee!” chimed an unfamiliar voice above Azula’s head. Azula whipped around, nearly cracking her head against a table leg in the process, and came face to face with Katara’s shins. They were standing next to another pair of legs: shapely, smooth, ending in feet strapped into delicate golden sandals. The toenails were painted a deep, glowing red.

It had been years – years – since Azula had wanted to murder anyone this badly.

Spirits, Azula thought with a groan that she hoped was inaudible over the din. Why? She couldn’t even bring herself to feel upset. The moment she had seen Katara enter with another woman, she should have known that one way or another, the only possible outcome for her, Azula, was abject humiliation.

She just hadn’t realized she’d be under a table when it happened.

Ty Lee’s legs had jerked when the unfamiliar voice had said her name, but now she responded with a cheerful laugh. “Song-lee! What a lovely surprise! And Katara!” Her voice trailed off briefly and Azula saw Katara’s weight shift from one leg to the other. “What brings you here?”

“I am just dying to try their oysters.” The woman – Song-lee – had the voice of an angel. Azula hated her more than she could ever remember hating anyone, and her father was Ozai. She had spent her entire childhood learning to hate. “I’ve heard they’re to die for.”

“Mmm,” Ty Lee said brightly. “I hate oysters. It’s like eating ocean mucus.”

Azula snorted as Song-lee chuckled uncertainly. Thank Agni for Ty Lee, she thought as she watched the two pairs of legs disappear back into the crowd. She was just about to clamber back out from under the table and buy Ty Lee a drink when she saw, impossibly, the two pairs of legs coming back, following a third pair of legs clad in the dark blue robes of the restaurant’s waitstaff.

“Uh-oh,” Ty Lee said, low but still loud enough for Azula to hear it where she was still crouched beneath the table. “Not good, not good, not –”

“You’re leaving, right?” asked a hassled voice that Azula assumed belonged to the waiter. Ty Lee didn’t respond but Azula guessed she nodded because the waiter’s next words were: “You ladies can have this table as soon as I wipe it down,” and she, Azula, died inside.

Ty Lee, bless her, was still trying to salvage the situation.

“Oh! Look over there! Is that the Avatar?”

“Where?” gasped the server, and Azula was scrambling out from under the table even before Ty Lee’s kick connected with her shin. She pulled herself to her feet just as the three were turning back around. The waiter looked heartbroken, Song-lee looked confused, and Katara – Katara looked –

Gorgeous, Azula’s terrible brain supplied. Perfect. Incandescent.

Far too knowing.

“Lady Azula!” Song-lee gasped, sinking into an impeccable curtsy. “It is an honor to meet the sister of our esteemed Fire Lord.”

“Yes, Azula, what a surprise to see you here. So suddenly.” Katara was watching her, eyes hard, pinning Azula in place as surely as if she were gripping her shoulders. Azula took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, standing as tall as she could and trying to pretend that she didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Say something dignified, her brain urged. Say something devastating.

“Enjoy the oysters,” was what she said instead. “They’re some of the best ocean mucus I’ve ever had.”

She turned on her heel and made for the exit, Ty Lee snorting behind her, but not before she saw Katara’s eyebrows raise and one corner of her mouth quirk into something that could, perhaps, possibly have been called a smile. Azula felt warmth bloom in the pit of her stomach, sudden and heady.

Mai met them at the door and opened it smoothly. As she and Ty Lee strode out, Azula looked back briefly, wondering if Katara was watching her leave.

She shouldn’t have looked. Katara and Song-lee were sitting opposite each other, their heads bowed together so that their foreheads almost touched over the table, and Katara was laughing.

The warmth in Azula’s stomach flickered and went out.

--

They were laughing and Azula didn’t know what they were laughing at but she knew – she knew – that they weren’t laughing at her. She came up behind Katara and snaked her arms around the taller woman’s waist. Katara turned and pulled Azula to her side, bringing her into the circle effortlessly, like being around people was easy.

“We’re just taking bets on whether Sokka is going to actually propose tonight, or whether he’s going to take Suki for another incredibly expensive dinner ‘just because,’” she said conspiratorially into Azula’s ear.

“Just because he’s too possum-chicken! Bock, bock, boooock,” Toph said, strutting around and waving her arms like wings. Azula laughed and leaned into Katara’s arms, like being held was something she deserved. Katara pressed a kiss into her hair.

“He’d better do it soon,” she murmured, so soft that only Azula could hear. “I promised him that he could go first.”

“What?” Azula gasped, twisting around in Katara’s arms so that she could see the other woman’s face. Katara was smiling softly, but her eyes held a question.

“What?” Toph asked straightening up from her possum-chicken pose.

“Nothing,” Azula said quickly, her eyes fixed on Katara’s smile. Then she nodded, quick and quiet, and Katara beamed. Azula could practically hear Toph rolling her eyes.

“Get a room,” she groused, and Katara laughed and raised one hand to cradle Azula’s cheek.

“We will,” she said simply, and Azula kissed her, as if she deserved a happy ending.

This time, when Azula opened her eyes to the darkness, she didn’t gasp. She just held herself very, very still.

--

After all the late-night studying, and the rushed meals, and the stress, the exams were...easy.

“Easy?” Ty Lee laughed as she and Mai walked Azula home after they were over. “You’ve been killing yourself about these exams for months—”

“Years,” Mai corrected blandly.

“Right!” Ty Lee agreed. “And now you’re saying they were easy?”

Azula shrugged. “What can I say?” she asked. “When your childhood was spent inciting and fighting battles all over the world and your teenage years included a stint in an insane asylum, taking a few tests is just –”

“Easy,” they chorused. Ty Lee laughed. Even Mai chuckled. Azula couldn’t stop smiling. She felt light enough to float. Was this what it felt like to be Aang?

“We have to celebrate,” Mai said firmly. “Tonight?”

“I don’t know that I’ve passed, still,” Azula said, but she was still smiling. Ty Lee rolled her eyes.

“’Zula, have you ever failed at anything in your life?”

“Being a good person,” Azula retorted, but she was still grinning. Ty Lee rolled her eyes again.

“Yes, but you weren’t trying to be a good person. Have you ever failed at something you were trying to do?”

Azula pretended to think for a moment. “You know,” she said slowly. “I can only think of one ill-fated flirtation at a beach party...”

Even Mai cracked a smile at that memory.

--

They didn’t go out immediately. Azula needed to eat, and she wanted to shower and change clothes. She also took a nap and ran through several katas to try to burn off some of the nervous energy that didn’t seem to want to dissipate. When Mai and Ty Lee appeared at her door at nine o’clock that night, though, she felt better than she had in—

Well. In a long time.

They went to their favorite bar: a small, bustling place near the outer edge of Caldera – or at least, near what used to be the outer edge of Caldera. The city was growing by the day, with new apartment buildings regularly springing up to house newcomers and sprawling beyond the city’s old walls. As Fire Lord, Zuko had been working hard to make sure reparations were getting to all the governments and citizens the Fire Nation had been torturing for a century, but refugees still flocked to the city looking for work, or for family members they had lost track of during the war. Some Fire Nation citizens from the former colonies were also returning to their ancestral home, although large numbers were choosing to stay in their new homelands to help rebuild side by side with their Earth Kingdom neighbors.

Still, the city was bustling, and on this particular night, the Dragonfly Tavern was positively boisterous. Two musicians had taken to the small stage at one end of the large main room and were determinedly playing their way through what seemed to be the entire repertoire of ancient Fire Nation dance songs. Four or five more suggestible – or more intoxicated – patrons had given into the moment and were gyrating with varying levels of skill on a cleared patch of floor. As Azula entered with her friends, the bartender – a jolly Earth Kingdom transplant named Ali – caught sight of them and waved delightedly.

“Ladies! It’s been too long!” he exclaimed as they came up to the bar. He shook his finger at Mai and Ty Lee with an exaggerated scowl. “Where have you been keeping her? I haven’t seen her in ages! She must be dying of thirst!”

“I took my teaching exams today, Ali,” Azula shouted over the bar’s din. He nodded sagely.

“Definitely dying of thirst, then,” he said seriously, then beamed at her. “First round is on the house.”

“Ali, you are a prince among men!” Azula crooned as Ty Lee cheered. “A gem without equal! The brightest star in the firmament!”

He grinned as he deftly gathered ingredients and poured a pale golden liquid into three glasses. As he handed the cups over the bar, though, he made a great show of looking around and back toward the door. “And where’s your lady love tonight? Not celebrating with you?”

Azula flinched. She schooled her face immediately, but Ali had seen. His expressive face shifted to dismayed concern.

“Ah, well. Never mind then,” he said awkwardly. Another patron hailed him from farther down the bar and he bit his lip. “Sorry,” he said, sidling away. “Second round on the house too.”

Ty Lee blew him a kiss but Azula turned away, no longer in the mood for banter. A table opened up and she grabbed it, sliding into the booth and taking a long sip of her drink. She wouldn’t think about Katara tonight. She wouldn’t.

“Cheers,” Mai said, lifting her glass as she joined Azula in the booth. Ty Lee was right behind her. Their glasses clinked together and Azula took another long drink. She put down her glass. It was empty.

“I’m going to get another,” she said. “Want anything else?”

They shook their heads. Mai’s eyes on her were far too knowing. Azula pointedly didn’t meet them as she slid out of the booth and made her way back to the bar.

Ali placed another drink on the bar with an apologetic grimace. Azula tried to smile back, and wondered if it had worked. She was just turning back to the table when a hand fell lightly on her arm.

“Excuse me,” said an unfamiliar voice, lightly, very close to her ear. “Are you, by chance, Princess Azula?”

Azula turned and came face to face with a young woman. Blue eyes, was her first, panicked thought. Water Tribe, was her second, even more panicked thought. The woman withdrew her hand and Azula realized she had been staring. She wrenched her eyes away, to somewhere just over the woman’s shoulder, and tried to ignore the way her face was heating. “Yes,” she replied airily. “And you are?”

“Oh!” The woman somehow made the gasp sound both delighted and a little bashful. “My name is Iya. It’s a real pleasure to meet you. I’m a new student teacher at the University and I’ve been hearing all about how talented you are at connecting with students, especially the difficult ones, and how you’re so good at making complex concepts seem understandable and –”

She broke off, chuckling self-consciously. “Listen to me,” she said. “I sound like a Classics student who suddenly came face to face with Elder Tao.”

Azula laughed along with her. The woman’s – Iya’s – laugh was high and tinkling. It didn’t sound like Katara’s laugh at all, which allowed Azula to bring her eyes back to Iya’s face. A second, less-panicked look revealed that she didn’t really look anything like Katara at all: her eyes were a lighter blue, and two of the five hair beads that framed her face were, incongruously, green. Azula took a deep breath.

“It’s alright,” she said, in answer to Iya’s previous comment. “It’s good to meet you too. Welcome to Caldera.”

She made to turn back to her friends, but Iya stepped forward quickly.

“I’d love to pick your brain about a few things,” she said in a rush. “If you’re not too busy, I mean – what am I talking about, of course you’re busy, you’re probably studying for your exams and I’m an inconsiderate fool –”

“Iya,” Azula interrupted with a smile. Iya broke off and looked up at her, blue eyes wide. “I’d be happy to sit down with you. I just took the exams today, actually, so I’ve got some free time.”

“Amazing!” Iya gushed. “How about tomorrow?”

“Um – ok,” Azula said, slightly taken aback. Then she reasoned, why not? She really did have more free time now. And maybe it would be good to get to know some new people.

People who don’t ask me about Katara, she thought bitterly, but she smiled at Iya. “Do you know the Smiling Plum Tea Shop?”

“Near the Western Market, right?” Iya asked. When Azula nodded, she grinned. “Three o’clock?”

“Sounds good,” Azula said. Iya turned away, but not before her delicate hand had brushed Azula’s arm once more.

“I can’t wait,” she said quietly, gazing up at Azula through dark eyelashes. Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Azula returned to Mai and Ty Lee feeling a little dazed. “What was that about?” Mai asked.

Azula shook her head, bemused. “I think I just met a fan.”

“Of you?” Mai asked. Azula nodded. Mai folded her hands, looking satisfied. “Good girl.”

“She’s a new student teacher, wants to ask me about dealing with difficult students or something,” Azula continued, sliding back into the booth. “We’re getting tea tomorrow.”

Ty Lee choked on her drink. “You’re going on a date?” she asked, gasping for air. Mai pounded her on the back.

“What? No,” Azula retorted, thrown. “She just has some questions about teaching and I suggested the tea shop because it’s near campus.”

Ty Lee and Mai were both looking at her as if she was speaking a different language.

“Let me get this straight,” Mai said slowly. “This girl comes up to you – knows who you are, seeks you out to ask you some questions about teaching –” Her tone was desert-dry. “You’re going to meet at a tea shop...and it’s not a date?”

“No,” Azula replied firmly. “It’s two colleagues sharing stories. It’s a mentor meeting with her mentee. It’s –”

“A date,” Ty Lee said again. “You’re going on a date.”

“It’s not a date!” Azula yelled. Ty Lee shrank back at the volume. Even Mai looked a little stunned.

“Our mistake,” she said soothingly. “It’s not a date. Definitely not a date.”

“Thank you,” Azula said. She took a sip of her drink. “Sorry,” she added. “About the shouting.”

“For what it’s worth,” Ty Lee said, sitting forward gingerly and picking up her drink again. “I think this not-a-date might be really good for you.”

--

It was not a date.

But only because Azula refused to think of it as a date.

In most other ways, it was very date-like. Iya asked her question after question and listened to her answers with wide, shining eyes. After her nervousness dissipated, Azula found that she was having a nice time. It was nice to have someone new to talk to who didn’t look at her with concern when they thought she wasn’t watching. It was nice to feel like the expertise she had gained over the past few years as a student teacher herself was helping someone else.

And, yes, it was nice when Iya’s hand brushed her arm, as it kept doing, apparently by accident.

The first time Iya had pulled her hand back immediately, apologizing. Azula had reassured her that it was fine and Iya seemed to take that as permission to continue. Azula thought that she should maybe be upset by that, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

The fifth time, she caught Iya’s eyes and smiled. Iya beamed back.

They parted with a hug and a plan to get together again the following week. Iya had a few more questions. Azula wanted to be helpful.

By the time that month’s Full Moon party rolled around, they had met up seven more times. For all her discomfort at thinking of their get-togethers as dates, Azula couldn’t deny that she looked forward to them. Iya was entertaining.

“I’m not going to fall in love with her,” Azula told Ty Lee the afternoon before the Full Moon party, when they met up for lunch. “But I enjoy spending time with her.” Ty Lee giggled around a mouthful of fish, but Azula pressed on. “Is that – do you think that’s bad?”

“Oh, ‘Zula,” Ty Lee said slowly, a little reproachfully. “Why do you ask?”

“Because –” Because I’m still in love with Katara. Because I’ll probably always be in love with Katara. “I don’t want to lead her on,” she said aloud. Ty Lee looked at her as if she knew exactly what Azula had not said.

“Babe,” she said, putting down her chopsticks and taking Azula’s hand where it was fidgeting on the table. “I think that you getting tea and spending time with a girl you like, who makes you happy and who thinks you hung the moon, is not a bad thing. It would be one thing if –” If there was any possibility of Katara coming back to you, she did not say, but Azula heard it all the same. “But you’re single, and you deserve happiness. You deserve love. You do,” she insisted, when Azula shook her head reflexively. Azula bit her lip.

“And you don’t have to fall in love with and marry everyone you date,” Ty Lee continued. “Most people don’t, actually. That doesn’t make them bad people.”

Azula nodded. “It’s casual,” she said, trying out the words.

Ty Lee nodded. “Casual,” she agreed, and squeezed Azula’s hand.

“Thank you,” Azula said abruptly. She had gotten better at expressing her feelings over the past decade, at least to her close friends, but it still made her uncomfortable. She changed the subject. “Are you going to Zuko’s tonight?”

“Of course!” Ty Lee said. “This is my first chance to get at that buffet in months. Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Azula answered, feeling her stomach squirm and regretting her choice of subject. This would be the first Full Moon festival since Katara had returned without her memories. Zuko had skipped the previous one for reasons he had assured Azula had nothing to do with her. It would have helped if Zuko had gotten any better at lying. “I don’t want to make anyone – uncomfortable.”

Ty Lee looked at her knowingly for a moment. Then her face lit up.

“What if you brought Iya?”

“Iya?” Azula asked. Ty Lee nodded vigorously. “To Zuko’s Full Moon party?”

“Yes,” Ty Lee said excitedly. “Just as a friend, of course, or a casual date, or whatever you call it, but it’ll give you a great excuse to stay away from Katara, and it might even help her feel calmer around you, if she sees you hanging out with people who aren’t her best friends. Plus, you just said that you enjoy spending time with Iya.” When Azula still looked unsure, Ty Lee leaned forward. “Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Azula snorted. That question had so many answers. Ty Lee waved them away with one slender hand.

“You can always leave,” she said. Azula considered it, really considered it, for a long moment.

“It would beat watching Katara and Song-lee moon at each other all evening,” she said finally.

“Oh, hooray!” Ty Lee crowed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her!”

Azula smiled back and took a bite of her fish and tried not to feel like she was drowning.

--

By the time she and Iya arrived at the palace gates that night, Azula had fully convinced herself that this was a terrible idea. If Ty Lee and Mai hadn’t hailed them just as they were dismounting from the hired carriage in front of the palace, she absolutely would have taken Iya by the hand and dragged her down the street, away from the sparkling lights and the faint sounds of music drifting over the garden wall. As it was, she introduced them all and hoisted on a smile as they entered the palace together. A server bowed them toward the entrance to the garden and Iya gasped, pressing close to Azula’s side.

It was quite a sight, Azula had to admit. The Fire Lord’s Full Moon parties were famous for a reason. Zuko had started them after the war as a way to connect with Fire Nation nobles outside of policy meetings and formal court appearances. Over time, they had grown to include many members of the artisan and craft guilds as well. When commoners had started grumbling that it wasn’t fair for the upper classes to get all the face time with the Fire Lord, Zuko had agreed and expanded the guest list yet again.

These days, it was an exuberant jumble of people from all walks of life coming together to eat good food, drink rice wine, and look at the full moon while strolling through the gorgeous public palace gardens. On rainy nights, the parties didn’t happen, so they maintained an aura of delightful spontaneity even though they supposedly happened every month. With Iya clutching her hand, wide-eyed, Azula couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over her face as she took it all in. It felt unexpectedly good to be there. Almost normal.

Zuko grinned at her and immediately started telling Iya about the palace’s turtleducks. Sokka and Suki let her hold Aiko, who chortled in delight. When Toph hit her in the shoulder, Iya hit her right back and Toph looked over at Azula and beamed.

Azula grinned back.

She was still smiling when she stepped over to a server passing out full glasses of moon-peach wine and came face to face with Katara.

“Oh – um – sorry –” they said at the same time, and pulled their hands back from the tray. The server looked back and forth between them dispassionately.

“You go ahead,” Katara said quickly, and Azula grabbed a glass and made to turn away. “Wait,” Katara said then, and Azula froze. She turned back around slowly. Katara was watching her over the rim of her glass. She looked oddly...nervous? All of Azula’s instincts blared a warning.

“I just – I just wanted to say,” began Katara, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “You seem really happy tonight and it’s – it’s nice to see. You deserve to be happy. I’m sorry that the whole thing with my memories has been so hard.”

Azula felt her eyes go wide. If someone had asked her to describe something that never, in a million years, would happen, she would have dismissed this particular moment as too impossible to count. You deserve to be happy. How could Katara think that?

“What –” she cleared her throat. “I mean. I – Thank you?” It came out like a question. Katara nodded back, a little awkwardly, but she was smiling softly now.

“I’ve been watching rehearsals of my play,” she said, seemingly changing the subject. “Or, I guess I should say...our play.”

Azula felt her heart constrict. She had forgotten about the play. In all the mess and sadness, she had forgotten that Katara had been writing her a play.

It was comforting, in a strange kind of way, to know that one’s heart was never completely broken. It could always break a little more.

“Are the rehearsals going well?” she asked, trying desperately to sound uninterested. She didn’t think she succeeded because now Katara was looking at her with something far too close to pity.

“Yeah,” Katara answered, her smile gone. “I’m sorry to bring it up, but – it’s just been showing me that there’s more to you than what I remember.” She dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m fine,” Azula answered. She took a deep breath. “I’m glad people will get to see your work. Thank you for telling me.”

“It opens tonight,” Katara said suddenly. “I’m actually heading over there in just a few minutes. Do you...” She looked supremely uncomfortable. “Do you want to come?”

A small part of Azula wanted to say yes – the part of her that wanted to make Katara uncomfortable, to get back at her for the pain she had caused, to not allow Katara to watch her beautiful new girlfriend act in a play (because that was how Song-lee and Ty Lee had known each other, Ty Lee had told Azula later – theater and circus connections) without being forced to sit next to her ex-girlfriend in discomfort.

Azula almost said yes.

But then she glimpsed Iya over Katara’s shoulder. Iya was scanning the crowd, apparently disinterested in the two men talking to her. When she saw Azula, she beamed and excused herself and started walking toward them.

And Azula realized that she would rather spend time with someone who looked for her, someone who enjoyed her company and whose company she enjoyed, than make Katara’s night miserable.

She shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said gently, and smiled to see Katara’s shoulders relax. “You enjoy. I’m happy for you,” she said, and reached out a hand. Katara took it instantly.

“Friends?” she asked hesitantly. Azula smiled.

“Friends,” she agreed.

Iya had reached them. She wound an arm around Azula’s waist and Azula leaned into her embrace. Katara raised her glass of wine.

“To the future,” she said, her eyes warm on Azula. Azula and Iya raised their glasses in response.

“To the future,” they chorused, and downed their drinks.

Katara left shortly after, to go watch her girlfriend act in a play she had written for Azula. Azula stayed behind, Iya’s hand gentle on the small of her back.

The full moon watched them all, pale and shining in the night sky.

--

By the time they got back to Azula’s door, it was very late.

Or very early, Azula reflected, feeling her inner fire pull towards Agni. The sun would be rising in just a few hours.

Iya was flushed and languid. She leaned against the door frame and pressed a kiss into Azula’s neck. Azula tilted her head back, reveling in the softness of Iya’s lips.

“Can I come in?” Iya whispered against Azula’s skin. Azula stiffened slightly – they hadn’t done this before – but then Iya’s hands were on her waist, then her hips, then dipping slightly lower. Azula nodded quickly. Iya huffed a laugh.

They stumbled into Azula’s small, dark apartment. Azula was kissing Iya now, Iya kissing back enthusiastically. Azula’s hands seemed to be moving of their own accord, but she was very pleased with their work. Iya’s overrobe had slipped off, baring her smooth, round shoulders and the sharp edges of her collarbones. Azula moaned and bent to kiss the warm expanse of skin. She wanted to kiss Iya everywhere, to have Iya kiss her everywhere.

They finally reached the bed and Azula dropped down immediately, reaching to pull Iya in with her, but Iya held back.

“I have to use the bathroom,” she whispered, giggling. “Too much wine tonight.”

“Hurry back,” Azula said. She tried to sound commanding but but it came out a little bit more like a plea. Iya pressed another kiss to her lips and pulled away, leaving Azula alone and burning with urgency. She disappeared into the bathroom, and Azula took the opportunity to shed the rest of her clothes and light a small lamp on the bedside table. It had been a long time since she had done this with anyone – especially anyone who wasn’t Katara.

Don’t think about Katara, she told herself sternly, and for once, her thoughts obeyed. She was laying on the bed, completely naked, when Iya emerged.

The other woman’s eyes were dark with lust. She raked them over Azula’s body, her flushed mouth curving up.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” she breathed. Azula felt as if she was about to overflow.

“Come here,” she ordered. Iya laughed as she climbed onto the bed and crawled up until she was leaning over Azula, her face glowing in the lamplight.

“Close enough for you?” she asked, smirking.

“No,” Azula growled, and pulled her into a kiss.

Azula felt like she was melting, like her body was turning to molten metal, glowing with light and heat and movement. Her awareness was a film of light across her whole body, sparking anywhere Iya’s skin touched her own. She was so caught in the play of light and shadow, the sensations within and without, that she barely even noticed the soft shrik of a knife being drawn.

The pain rocked into her like a living thing. She screamed and bucked away from the source of it, but it was too late. Agony was shooting through her abdomen and blood was everywhere, soaking the bed, soaking her body. My blood, she realized with surreal detachment.

Is Iya ok? was her next, blurred thought. She looked up at the woman above her, but the words died on her lips.

Iya was watching her. She caught and held Azula’s gaze.

“This is for my parents,” she said slowly, clearly. “For my little sister, who was two years old when Fire Nation soldiers set our house on fire. For my older brother, who had just gotten married, and for his new wife, who never got to have her baby.”

Azula’s head was spinning. Pain was crashing through her, roaring like the ocean in a storm, and she was drowning in it.

“What?” she managed, trying to raise her hands, trying to make the world make sense again. “Iya – please –”

“You took everything from me,” Iya snarled. “You and your motherfucking war. You probably don’t even remember that night, but I’ve never forgotten it, and I swore I would kill you.”

She was crying now, her tears falling on Azula’s bare chest. Azula felt darkness lapping at the edges of her consciousness, but she fought it off. This couldn’t be the end. It couldn’t be.

She tried one more time. “Iya. I don’t – I wish – I’m –”

“You’re a monster,” Iya whispered.

Azula let the darkness take her.

Chapter Text

Katara tried to settle into her seat at the theater. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, making it hard to sit still. Her mind was going in a thousand different directions. She was eager to see Song-lee perform. She was anxious about seeing the play all the way through for the first time. She kept remembering Azula’s smile that evening, full and bright as she laughed at Zuko, as she joked with Toph, as she leaned into Iya’s arms. She wished she had eaten more food, and perhaps drunk a little less wine.

She still wasn’t sure what had prompted her to approach Azula at the party, although she had been thinking about apologizing for several days. Azula had looked so happy, so at ease, so – different from how Katara remembered her during the war. It was doing strange things to her heart, to her mind. She wanted to focus on the play.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Azula’s smile. Friends, they had agreed. It felt like relief, in a way.

It also felt strangely, uncomfortably, like loss.

The voices of the audience around her were a low hum rising and falling like swells in the sea. Katara gripped the edge of her seat and tried not to feel like she was drowning.

The torches on the walls dimmed suddenly, then snuffed out all at once. Light bloomed on the stage, and Song-lee stepped out of the wings. Her head was up, eyes glaring, but her shoulders were hunched slightly, as if bracing against a strike. She hovered by the edge of the stage.

She looked uncannily like Azula, Katara thought, with her dark topknot and her pale skin, but also unlike any Azula that Katara knew. The Azula from Katara’s memories was haughty and dangerous, cruel and frighteningly powerful. The Azula that she had seen at the party tonight was laughing and at ease, although wary in moments.

The Azula onstage looked brittle and broken and like she was trying desperately to hide it.

The actress playing Katara approached Song-lee with a plate of fried dough in her hands. Katara could see the steam rising from it. The thick, warm scent of the oil drifted across the audience. She drew a shuddering breath.

“I got too much fried dough,” said the Katara on the stage. “Want to share?”

And between one breath and the next, Katara remembered.

She remembered the way that Azula had flinched back at her voice, as if she was expecting a blow. Remembered – remembered! – how Azula had let her dignity fall, just a bit, and how they had laughed together and eaten the fried dough in a tentatively companionable silence. Remembered how she had realized, with a fair bit of surprise, that she enjoyed Azula’s company. Remembered being excited to see her again.

The play spooled out before her on the stage. Every line was a lit match that illuminated other moments, other memories. Song-lee glanced over at the Katara onstage quickly, hesitantly, and Katara remembered catching Azula’s eyes one too many times to be chance, remembered how they had circled each other for months, each too unsure of the other to risk ruining their burgeoning friendship. She remembered how Azula’s eyes had widened when she, Katara, had asked if she could kiss her. The actresses kissed onstage and Katara remembered kissing Azula with a vivid force that knocked the breath from her lungs. She bit her lip and tasted salt.

The torches on the walls flared to life again and Katara realized that she was crying. It was intermission. The audience was rising around her. She breathed in very deeply, and then out. Breathed in again.

Then she was up and pushing through the crowds, angling towards the door that led backstage. I have to see Azula, she thought, then stopped, breathless. Azula wasn’t back there. Azula was likely still at Zuko’s party. Azula was with Iya.

Katara held herself very, very still for a long moment. Then, slowly, she turned and made her way back to her seat.

She watched the rest of the play with a kind of desperate intensity that felt like nothing so much as those first water-bending lessons with Aang: trying to grasp at something that felt both unfamiliar and deeply instinctual. The actors took their last bows and Katara stood again, made her way much more slowly to the backstage door. Song-lee was in the middle of a press of laughing, jostling actors. When she saw Katara, she smiled and winked. Katara stood at the edge of the room, trying not to fidget, until Song-lee had extricated herself.

Song-lee was still smiling as she came up to Katara, but something in Katara’s face made her falter.

“You remembered,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but Katara nodded anyway. Song-lee sighed, a wistful expression drifting through her eyes.

“I thought you might,” she said with a shrug. She leaned forward and kissed Katara lightly on the lips, her hand falling on Katara’s arm like a feather. Then she pulled back.

“Go to her,” she said gently. Katara breathed in sharply.

“Thank you,” she said haltingly. “For everything. And I’m –”

Song-lee stopped her with a slender raised hand. “Go to her,” she repeated.

And Katara did.

--

Or at least, Katara left the theater, fully intending to go to Azula. She had only gone a block, though, when she realized that she didn’t know where Azula now lived. She felt a sudden, wild desire to laugh, or to sob.

Toph will know, she thought to herself, and headed to Toph’s apartment, which was only a few blocks away from the theater.

The door was locked when she arrived. It was incredibly late, but it didn’t even occur to Katara to go back to her house. She was turning back around, running through a list of all the people she could try to drag out of sleep to figure out where Azula lived now, when she saw Toph coming towards her through the dim light of the street lamps. Katara felt as if her blood was singing.

“Toph!” she whisper-shouted, mindful of nearby residents sleeping but also barely refraining from leaping up and down and shouting to the rooftops. “Toph, I –”

Toph finally came into a full lantern glow and Katara stopped abruptly. The other woman had clearly been crying, which was already unsettling enough. The front of her tunic was also covered in blood.

“Tui and La,” Katara gasped, stepping forward. “What –”

Toph didn’t even pause. “Azula was attacked,” she said, quick and impersonal. “She forgot her scarf at the party and I was going to drop it off by her door but when I got there the door was open and she was lying on the bed in a pool of her own blood. She’s still alive but it’s unclear how long that will last. She’s at the hospital. I’ve been sent home to change into less-bloody clothes but then I’m going back.”

All the time she was talking, Toph was laying a hand onto her door and shooting back to the metal bolts, striding through her house to the bedroom, pulling out a clean shirt and soft trousers that tied at the waist. Katara followed her. She felt weightless, numb. She turned away as Toph stripped off her bloody clothes and pulled on the fresh garments, then turned back. Toph paused, briefly, in front of her.

“You coming, Katara? I’m warning you, if Azula wakes up, she’s not going to want to be yelled at, and if you try anything, I’ll—”

If Azula wakes up.

Katara must have made some kind of noise because Toph suddenly stopped talking. She cocked her head slightly, her brow furrowing. Then her face cleared, replaced with an aching sadness.

“You remembered,” she said with a sigh. Katara nodded. Toph opened her arms, and Katara collapsed into them.

--

Sokka met them at the hospital door. Without a word, he folded them both into his arms.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he mumbled. Toph huffed a laugh that sounded a little like a sob.

“What’s going on?” Katara asked as he pulled back. “Where is she? How –”

“She’s stable,” Sokka said immediately. “Zuko’s with her. She’s not awake yet,” he said as Katara opened her mouth again. “But it’s looking more likely than it was an hour ago.” He squeezed Toph’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t found her when you did...”

Katara couldn’t seem to focus on what Toph or Sokka were saying to each other. She’s stable.

“Can I see her?” she asked. “Sorry,” she added, when she realized she had probably interrupted someone. Sokka grimaced.

“You can...” he began hesitantly, but Toph kicked him in the shin.

“She remembered, dummy,” Toph said. “Can’t you tell?”

“You – you did?” Sokka gasped. Katara nodded, and a huge grin spread across Sokka’s face. “In that case, you absolutely can. Come on.”

They followed him through one hall, then down another. Katara realized she was gripping Toph’s hand tightly and tried to pull away, but Toph just held on tighter.

Azula was lying in a bed in a small room about halfway down the third hallway. Her eyes were closed. She looked small and drawn and horribly pale. Katara’s first impression was of a wax figurine of Azula, and she wondered, wildly, where they had taken the real Azula. Then she saw Zuko’s hooded eyes and knew that this was the real Azula.

Zuko embraced them all wordlessly and they pulled up chairs. By unspoken agreement, Toph was closest to Azula’s face, with Sokka and Zuko close behind. Katara made herself as comfortable as she can on an uncomfortable hospital chair by Azula’s left hand. She might not want to see me, and that’s ok, she told herself. Suddenly, she looked around, noticing an absence.

“Where is Iya?” she whispered. Toph’s eyes narrowed.

“She was gone when I got there,” she answered. “The guards who are looking for her aren’t sure if they’re hunting a victim or a murderer.”

Katara felt a wild spike of hope and pushed it down violently. Not the time, she told herself firmly. There would be time if – when – Azula woke up.

Katara grasped Azula’s left hand and did not let go. On the other side, Zuko had done the same.

The night stretched ahead of them. Azula’s eyes stayed closed.

--

Azula’s eyes flew open and she turned them immediately on Katara, who felt as if an electric shot bolted through her as she sat up straight.

“Azula,” she breathed. Then: “Um. Hi.”

Toph was asleep in one corner. Zuko had just stepped out to use the bathroom. Sokka had gone off to try to find everyone breakfast. Mai, Ty Lee, and Aang were coming but had not arrived yet. They were, effectively, alone.

Katara watched Azula take stock of her surroundings, then her eyes flashed back to Katara. They were hazily golden. Katara felt like crying, but she firmly did not. This moment was not about her.

“What –” Azula’s voice was hoarse. She coughed suddenly. “Water?” she said carefully. Katara grabbed a cup from a low table near Azula’s head and bent a stream of water from a pitcher without letting go of Azula’s hand. She passed the cup to Azula, who took it slowly and raised it to her lips. She closed her eyes as she drank, winced as she swallowed.

Opened her eyes.

“I’m dead,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Katara shook her head violently. “No, you’re alive, you’re alright. Toph found you in time.”

She realized that she was, indeed, crying now. When had that happened? She swiped at her eyes.

Azula was shaking her head slowly. “Iya stabbed me,” she said clearly. “Now you’re crying over me and saying I’m alright.” She smiled: a small, crooked thing. “You must understand why I don’t believe you.”

Katara swallowed hard. She had to do this right.

“I got my memories back, Azula,” she said softly, squeezing the other woman’s hand. “At the play. Last night. Although I think I was starting to fall for you all over again,” she said, suddenly identifying the discomfort she had felt seeing Azula and Iya together. “We don’t need to talk about it now, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be with me, but I – I’m back. I’m here for you, however you want me. And I’m not leaving you again.”

She said this last part fiercely, feeling it down to her bones, like a vow. “Unless – unless you want me to leave,” she added as realization struck her. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Then Azula started laughing. Although it didn’t actually feel very much like laughter. There was a knife edge of hysteria to it that sent Katara reeling backward even as she tightened her grip on Azula’s hand.

“You got your memories back,” Azula repeated, her eyes squeezing shut. “You’re here for me. You’ll do whatever I want.”

“Yes,” Katara whispered, and then Azula was laughing again. Toph was awake now and crowding up to Azula’s other side, grasping her right hand, her jaw clenched. Katara shifted uneasily and opened her mouth to say something else but then Azula’s eyes slammed back open.

“What the fuck,” Azula snapped. All trace of laughter was gone. “You come in here all teary-eyed and say that all your memories are magically back and that you’ll never leave again and you expect me to – what? Fall swooning into your arms? Move back in with you? Tell you everything’s ok? Your memories going wasn’t your fault, but all the shit you put me through after that – You killed me, Katara, over and over again.” She was shaking now. “How am I supposed to – to believe – to ever –”

She broke off, biting her lip, her eyes suspiciously bright. Katara felt frozen, unable to move, unable to respond. She stared at Azula as the other woman took a deep, shaky breath.

“I don’t want to cry in front of you,” Azula said quietly. “Katara. Please leave.”

Katara nodded. You knew this might happen, she told herself, trying to ignore how her heart was splitting down the middle. At least she’s alive. That’s all that matters. She dropped Azula’s hand and stood up, made her way to the door. At the last minute, she turned around.

“I’m so sorry, Azula,” she said, hating how her voice wavered but feeling like she had to say this. She didn’t know when she would get another chance. “You don’t ever have to forgive me. I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive myself. But please – please – know that I’m sorry.”

“Of course I’ll forgive you, you idiot!” Azula shrieked, so suddenly that Toph jerked back and Katara jumped what felt like a foot into the air. “I love you, I always have, you’re everything to me, and right now I need you to get the fuck away from me before I lose my fucking shit.”

Katara was suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe. “You – you –” she stammered.

“I will shoot lightning at you!”

Katara threw herself out the door and down the hall, her feet barely touching the floor. She was going so fast that she didn’t notice Zuko until she crashed into him.

“Oof,” he said. Then: “Katara! What –”

“She’s awake and she’s furious,” Katara said. “I’ve been ordered out of the room, you better get in there, she might kill someone –”

“You’re smiling,” Zuko cut in, talking quickly. “Why are you smiling? Katara –”

“She loves me,” Katara said, realizing as she did so that her cheeks were hurting from the force of her smile. She felt as if she could might take flight. This must be what it feels like to be Aang. “She loves me.”

She walked out the hospital door into the most beautiful morning she had ever seen.

--

The next time she saw Azula, it was nearly three weeks after the attack and Azula’s subsequent hospital visit. Azula was back at her apartment near the university, still recovering but doing better every day, according to Toph. She had invited Katara over for tea. It would be the first time Katara had seen Azula’s new place – the first time she had really seen Azula, since getting her memories back. There was a fluttery feeling in her stomach as she knocked on the door. She was already practicing what she was going to say to Azula, how she might help the other woman feel at ease around her again.

Aang opened the door with a brilliant smile. “Katara! You’re just in time for the toast!” he cried happily, motioning her in. “Come in, come in!”

“Um,” Katara said as she stepped into what could only be described as a party. “Thank you?”

Ty Lee handed her a glass of champagne. Sokka grinned at her from the tiny kitchen. Zuko, Suki, and baby Aiko were happily crushed together on the small couch, and Aang rejoined Toph where she was sprawled on the floor. There were more people crowded along one wall whom Katara vaguely recognized as other students from Azula’s program at the university.

And there was Azula herself, grinning from ear to ear, seated cross-legged on a ratty armchair. She made it look like a throne, she held her head so high, and she was absolutely glowing with happiness.

“To my sister!” Zuko cried, raising his glass. “The newest professor at Caldera University!”

The group erupted in cheers, Toph banged a metal pan lid against the floor, and Aiko sent up a wail to wake the dead as everyone drank. Azula was laughing as Sokka refilled her glass. Katara felt buoyant, suddenly. Weightless with happiness.

“She wasn’t supposed to hear about the exam for another two weeks,” one of Azula’s colleagues confided to Katara as the party gained momentum around them. “But one of her mentors is on the review board and couldn’t keep it secret. She got a perfect score, one of only a few in history, the first in about two hundred years.”

“Of course she did,” Katara murmured, watching Azula laugh with Toph, who was grinning wickedly. “She’s the best.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” she asked Azula much later, as the party slowed around them. Azula was no longer sitting on the chair. She had moved to the floor some time ago to lie with her head in Mai’s lap. Mai had been stroking her hair absently, but had fallen asleep in the past few minutes. Ty Lee was curled up on the couch and Toph had just left with a knowing smirk. Katara may or may not have been quite drunk.

Azula’s eyes flickered to hers, then away again. “A few things,” she answered lightly. “Not many.”

“I don’t think I’ve said congratulations yet,” Katara whispered, suddenly conscious of the sleeping people around them. Azula chuckled.

“You’ve said congratulations five times in the past twenty minutes,” she replied. Her fond smile went straight to Katara’s head.

“Well, I’m saying it again,” she said, giggling. “Congratulations. You’re going to be an amazing professor.”

“I’m sorry our tea got crashed,” Azula said, tipping her head forward until her forehead was resting against Katara’s. Katara realized she was holding her breath.

“That’s ok,” she said simply. “It was just so good to see you safe and happy and surrounded by people who love you.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of Azula, right there. “I love seeing you be loved.”

Azula’s breath hitched and she stood up suddenly.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, not meeting Katara’s eyes. “You can sleep here, if you want. You probably shouldn’t try to get home when you’re this drunk.”

“Drunk?” Katara gasped, pressing a hand to her heart in mock hurt. “Me?” Azula huffed in what Katara chose to interpret as fond annoyance as she pulled a box of extra bedding out from beneath the couch.

“Play’s over, drama queen,” she muttered as she helped Katara spread the bedding over the floor. “Get some sleep.”

She disappeared into her bedroom without a backward glance. Katara knew because she watched her walk away.

--

She was awoken some time later by a muffled scream.

Katara leapt to her feet and promptly crashed into Mai, who was pushing herself up from the floor and drawing two daggers from within her robe in one fluid motion. They stumbled into the hall together and pushed open the door to the bedroom, Ty Lee breathless and bleary-eyed behind them.

Azula was sitting up in bed, a pillow pressed over her face, shoulders shaking with sobs. Mai was at her side in the next instant, Ty Lee close behind. Katara hovered awkwardly near the door, scanning the room for intruders and feeling more and more like one herself as Azula threw herself into Ty Lee’s arms. She was mumbling something over and over again, too rushed and muffled to make out.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Ty Lee asked desperately, clutching Azula to her chest as she bent down to try to make out Azula’s words. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” Azula said, volume rising. “I want to, Agni, I want to, but I just can’t –”

“What can’t you do?” Mai asked. Katara had started to back towards the door, meaning to slip out and close it to give the three friends some privacy, but Azula’s response stopped her in her tracks.

“I can’t believe she won’t leave me again.”

As one, Mai and Ty Lee turned toward Katara, and she felt all the blood drain from her face. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she crossed the room and fell to her knees on the floor beside the bed, eye-level with Azula where she was curled against Ty Lee’s lap.

“Beloved,” she said softly. Azula gasped in surprise and jerked back, her eyes going wide. “Beloved, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, not unless you want me to leave.”

Azula was shaking her head. “No, no, no, you’ll leave, they always leave, I’m a monster, why would anyone stay—”

Humming softly under her breath, Katara threaded one arm around Azula and then the other. Ty Lee melted away, making space for her on the bed. Katara dimly registered that she and Mai were easing out of the room and closing the door, but all her attention was focused on the woman in her arms.

“Azula, listen to me,” she said firmly. “I love you. It literally took me getting kidnapped and getting amnesia to stop loving you, and even then, it only lasted for a few weeks! I’m not going anywhere.”

But Azula was still shaking her head. “Ursa left. Zuko left. Mai and Ty Lee chose him, and Father left, and he was the only one who ever – the only one who ever said –” She curled more tightly upon herself. “And Iya. I thought Iya wanted to be with me but she only wanted to kill me, how could I have been so stupid—”

“You’re not stupid, Azula,” Katara said, holding her more tightly. “She was a hurt, angry woman and you –”

“She had every right to be angry!” Azula interrupted, raising her head. Her eyes were blazing. “I killed her family, Katara, I killed so many people, so many people’s families – how can you – how can you even think about –”

“Hey.” It was Katara’s turn to interrupt this time. “Azula. Look at me.”

Anguished golden eyes met hers.

“I think the question here,” Katara said slowly, wanting to make sure that Azula was following. “Is whether or not you can forgive me.”

Azula blinked. Swallowed. Shook her head once, as if to clear water from her ears. “What?” she said.

“I’ve treated you terribly,” Katara continued. “I was mean, and stubborn, and scared of my own feelings and how it suddenly felt like I was living someone else’s life, and I took it out on you.”

Azula ducked her head.

“You said it yourself,” Katara pressed on. “In the hospital. I killed you, over and over again, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again, let alone have me as your girlfriend again. You said you would forgive me, but if you’ve changed your mind, or if you just want to be friends, I will respect your decision. I respect you, Azula, and it would be my honor to be your girlfriend again, but it is absolutely up to you.”

Azula grasped one of Katara’s hands and squeezed it. She didn’t say anything for long, long moments.

“You really want to be my girlfriend again?” she asked finally, going for flippant and failing miserably.

Katara nodded solemnly. “I really, really do. If you’ll have me.”

Azula nodded back. “Ok,” she said quietly. “Ok. I believe you.”

“Do you?” Katara asked, and Azula chuckled wetly.

“I’m trying,” she amended. Katara squeezed her hand back.

“I’ll keep saying it,” she said, pretending to threaten. “Just try to get through a whole day without me telling you how wonderful you are and how much I’m in love with you. Just try.”

Azula giggled. Katara remembered how much she loved that sound and pressed a kiss, delighted, reverent, to Azula’s temple.

Azula pulled back.

“You know I’m quite big on forgiveness,” she said lightly, pretending to think. “But I have to ask: did you mean everything you said at the hospital?”

Katara wrinkled her brow. “What else did I say?”

“I believe I remember you saying something about how you’ll do whatever I want.”

She was grinning now, her smile a knife’s edge. Katara felt her heart swell and a grin spread slowly across her face.

“What’d you have in mind?”

Azula leaned back, her bright eyes a challenge and a homecoming.

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.”

Chapter Text

--1 year later--

Azula had really thought that Katara would be a better gardener.

“Don’t you dare pull that out, you idiot, that’s a sunrose.”

“But it’s all brown!”

“It’s a perennial, it’ll come back in mid- to late-fall, as long as no one yanks it out by the roots.”

Katara huffed and sat back on her heels.

“Why even ask for my help if you don’t want it?” she asked, scowling. Azula crawled over to her and put her face directly in front of Katara’s.

“Hey,” she said. Katara looked away, still scowling. “Hey,” Azula said again. “Hey, hey, h—”

“Alright!” Katara shouted and kissed her full on the mouth. Azula grinned into the kiss and felt Katara’s lips curving upward as well. She opened her mouth, ran her tongue lightly over Katara’s lips, and felt Katara’s mouth open in response.

A while later, they lay side by side in the grass.

“I love gardening,” Katara said dreamily, tracing a finger along Azula’s bare collarbone. Azula laughed.

“I love you,” she said, and Katara beamed at her.

Azula reached over to where her tunic lay, tumbled on the grass. “No,” Katara whined. “Clothes already?”

“Nope,” Azula said, withdrawing her hand from the tunic. It was wrapped around the small box that she had been carrying with her for weeks now, waiting for the right moment.

This was definitely the right moment.

She turned on her side so that she was facing Katara, still lying in the grass. Katara’s eyes widened when she saw the box, and her gaze flickered up to Azula’s face.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked quietly. Azula pretended to think.

“That depends,” she said slowly, “on what you’re thinking.”

She flipped it open.

Inside, the pale shell of the betrothal necklace shone against midnight blue velvet. The late afternoon sun gleamed on the lighter blue silk ribbon; the carved waves seemed almost to move beneath the carved sun in splendor.

Katara’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Slowly, reverently, her hand came up and traced the waves lightly. She took a breath, then another.

Azula bit her lip. “Do you like it?” she asked, suddenly worried. “Sokka helped me decide on the pattern and everything, he said it symbolized constancy and hope, but we can get a different one, or rings, or whatever you want, I –”

Katara lifted her face. Her eyes were shining.

“I love it,” she said, with feeling. “It’s perfect. Azula, I –” She swallowed again, visibly struggling to compose herself. “I love it,” she repeated simply.

They were sitting up now, and Azula was taking the necklace out of the box when she was struck with a horrible thought.

“You said you like it,” she confirmed. “Does that mean you’re saying...yes?”

Katara snorted, then put her chin in her hand. “Hmm,” she said, dragging out the m. “I’m not sure...can I think about it?”

Azula’s hand holding the necklace burst into flame.

“I thought about it,” Katara said, laughing and crying in equal measure, smiling hugely through her tears. “It’s a yes.”

Azula was laughing too, her own eyes stinging.

“You better not have ruined my necklace,” Katara said, as the flames disappeared as quickly as they had come.

Azula scoffed. “Who do you take me for? Zuko?”

“Definitely not,” Katara said, and turned so that Azula could tie the ribbon around her neck. She turned back and Azula caught her breath. “How does it look?”

“Perfect,” Azula said. She leaned forward and kissed her betrothed. “Perfect.”

They stayed like that in the garden, on the grass together, as the world darkened around them like a theater at the end of a play, or at the beginning of a play.