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Towards the end of the Agni Kai, the sky began glowing. Katara, exhausted from healing Zuko of his lightning wound, watched as the world became awash in light—fiery red and calming blue. The red grew, hungrily eating away the blue, until the entire sky was painted in red. And then…
Nothing.
Katara sighed as she watched the light show in the sky. It was beautiful, if somewhat foreboding. She didn’t think whatever caused the lights could be something good.
She was right, of course.
They lost.
Katara—and Zuko once he woke up, face sweaty and pasty—took over control of the Palace. Quietly, they waited with bated breath for the others to appear.
They waited.
And waited.
And waited.
No one came.
Katara wasn’t sure when it went wrong.
(Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate; it went wrong over a hundred years ago, when Sozin killed Avatar Roku and began to take over the world.)
All Katara knew was that one moment they were doing fine—tired and worried for their friends, yes, but the Fire Palace was under their control; they had upheld their part of the plan perfectly. And then, between one blink of an eye and the next, Azula had been freed from captivity and had retaken control of the Palace.
“I win, Zuzu.” The deranged bitch sang as one of her Dai Li’s stone gauntlets punched Zuko in his barely-healing wound. Katara didn’t know what where how; she had combed through the palace twice to capture all the Dai Li agents Azula had brought to the Palace.
Who did she miss? What did she overlook? Where did she make such a grave, fatal mistake?
What where how—
They would’ve been hard-pressed to defeat so many agents even when they were at the top of their game. Now, though…it seemed their luck had finally run out.
They wouldn’t be pulling out another miracle this time.
It was hot in the prison. Dry too.
It felt like she was in one of those furnaces people in the Earth Kingdom baked bread in. Katara was pretty sure it was on purpose, an extra precaution to keep her off-balance and unable to bend. Everyone knew just like how freezing temperatures affected firebenders the most, dry heat was torture for waterbenders.
Azula was just the type of person who would do that.
She wasn’t sure where Zuko was. He had to be okay. He had to be.
Azula wouldn’t execute her own brother, right?
(But she had tried to kill Zuko. The lightning burn on his abdomen was enough proof of that.)
Katara’s shoulders ached, her arms suspended by two thick chains that hung from either corner of the cell. Her legs were clamped to the floor, so tightly that she couldn’t move if she wanted to.
She licked her lips, dried and cracked. The guards only came once a day to spoon-feed her. They delivered water on a sponge, just barely enough to keep her alive.
Was this how Hama had lived for over a decade of her life? No wonder she had turned into an amoral serial killer.
She remembered how Hama escaped, by bloodbending the guards and forcing them to free her. Katara tried to do that, but Azula was far more cautious than Hama’s guards ever were; a splint tied to each of her bound hands prevented her from even twitching her fingers.
Katara wasn’t sure why Azula hadn’t had her executed outright, but she was determined to make that into the other girl’s mistake. As long as she breathed, she’d fight to bring the Firelord down. Waiting wasn’t her strong suit, but she could be very patient if she wanted to.
The guards would make a mistake, eventually. They’d give her a bit too much water, turn down the heat just enough, leave the keys to her chains somewhere she could grab with her mouth…something.
They’d slip up. Then, Katara would make her move.
(She tried not to think of the world that would be waiting for her out there.)
(Sokka and Suki and Toph and Aang…they never made it to their rendezvous point. Zuko and Katara had been waiting for a week.)
(There was only one thing that could’ve stalled them for so long.)
Azula came down to visit, wearing the Firelord’s crown. Her chopped bangs had been trimmed into perfect symmetry, and her hair was tied back into a topknot.
Katara growled.
“What a pleasant welcome.” Azula drawled.
“What do you want.” Katara scowled. There was something predatory in the other girl’s smile that made Katara’s skin crawl.
Azula tsked, “What a rude way to greet your ruler, peasant.”
What? Katara scoffed. “You’re not my chief.”
“Oh? Didn’t you know?” Azula’s smile widened.
Katara’s heart dropped into her gut. Whatever made Azula smile like couldn’t be good. “Know what?” She bit out.
“The late Firelord Ozai conquered the Earth Kingdom and forced the Southern Water Tribe into submission. Unfortunately, after his victory, my father…slipped and fell in the shower, I’m afraid.” Azula said, examining her nails with a careless smirk. “Seeing that my other two…relatives are traitors, I’m afraid I have taken on the burden of the throne. I’m the ruler of the world now, my dear peasant.”
Oh.
Oh no.
Katara shivered at the smile Azula gave her. She hated Ozai with a burning passion, but the way Azula talked about Ozai’s…
She was very concerned about Zuko’s mortality.
Azula gave Katara a self-satisfied smirk as she strode out of the prison. That bitch. She knew exactly what thoughts she had implanted in Katara.
Katara had never wanted to wipe someone’s smile away more.
“Where is Zuko?” Katara demanded the next time Azula came around to visit. Damn keeping her composure; she’d grovel in front of that bitch if it meant knowing if Zuko was alive.
“Zuzu is right where he’s supposed to be.” Azula said, a smug smirk dancing on her lips. “Don’t worry about my brother, peasant. I have been told my hospitality skills are…excellent.”
Katara tried not to think too hard about the implications of that.
Ignorance was bliss.
Zuko would be fine, Katara told herself. He had already pulled off two miraculous prison escapes—at the Pouhai Stronghold and on the Boiling Island. What was Azula compared to that?
There was still hope for the future.
(She didn’t know who she was fooling.)
Where was Iroh—or the rest of the White Lotus, for that matter?
They couldn’t have failed to liberate Ba Sing Se, could they? They were the greatest benders and warriors of the world—if they had failed, who could stand a chance against the Fire Nation?
Katara tried not to think about this. It was hard enough to keep hoping as it was. She had to believe she would escape. Sokka and her other friends were alive. They were. They must be starting a rebellion by now, figuring ways to defeat the Fire Nation. Aang would be feeling terrible about his failure right now; Katara hoped the others weren’t too hard on him. Toph would probably tell Aang to suck it up, to stop wallowing and start working. Sokka would be pouring over strategies, and Suki would either be helping him or training. They were okay. They had to be.
If they weren’t…
She tried not to think about that, either.
Too bad there wasn’t much to do in this cell except think.