Chapter Text
Zuko
The meeting had been going on for nearly an hour.
At least, Zuko thought it had.
The advisor standing across from him was still talking, though somewhere along the way his words had stopped sounding like actual sentences and started blending together into meaningless noise.
"..which is why increasing patrols along the eastern border would be the most efficient use of our budget."
Zuko stared blankly at the report in front of him. He missed being chased by assassins. At least it was more interesting. The thought almost makes him laugh. Almost.
His gaze drifts toward the palace window instead. Somewhere beyond the palace walls, reconstruction crews moved steadily along one of the northern roads. He vaguely remembers approving the project months ago after heavy flooding had damaged several villages nearby. Before that, it had been food shortages. Before that, border disputes. Even before that, arguments between villagers convinced their neighbor's goat was somehow responsible for ruining an entire harvest.
There was always something.
The strange part was that none of it felt real while sitting inside a meeting room. Reports arrived neatly organized, problems were reduced to numbers written across a page. Someone would explain the situation, propose a solution, and eventually Zuko would sign his name at the bottom. Problem solved. Supposedly. Sometimes he wondered if this is what being a Fire Lord was supposed to feel like.
Far below--merchants, travelers, and families moved through the city in scattered groups. Near the marketplace, a group of five teenagers weave through the crowd together before disappearing around a corner. Zuko's gaze lingers on them longer than it should.
Aang was probably halfway across the world by now, Sokka was likely inventing something dangerous in the South. Toph was probably honing her bending skills in the Earth Kingdom, and Katara--most likely helping rebuild homes somewhere in the Southern Water Tribe. She had never been very good at standing still when people needed her.
A sharp clearing of a throat pulls him back to reality. Zuko blinks. Oh. The advisor had stopped talking. Several pairs of eyes were now staring directly at him from across the council table. Apparently he had been looking out the window longer than he thought. An uncomfortable warmth creeps up his neck almost immediately. Not because he had gotten caught, but more because this had become a habit.
The first few months after the war, every meeting had felt important. Every report felt urgent. Every decision carried long enough to keep him awake long after midnight. Now, everything felt the same. Not because the problems mattered less--if anything, there had been more of them now. For every village rebuilt, another needed supplies. For every dispute settled, another inevitably appeared a few days later. There was always something. Sometimes he couldn't tell whether he was actually helping or just moving from one problem to the next.
"..which would increase efficiency by approximately twelve percent," the advisor finishes.
Zuko stares at him. The advisor stares back.
He was not going to lie.
He had absolutely no idea what the man had just said to him.
Beside him, Uncle Iroh slowly lowers his teacup. "Well, twelve percent is certainly an impressive number."
A few heads turn in his direction.
Iroh nods thoughtfully, continuing as if though he had been there the entire time. "I am not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds impressive."
A faint chuckle ripples through part of the room. Even Zuko can't stop the small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Across the table, the advisor's expression softens slightly as some of the tension leaves his shoulders.
Iroh takes another sip of what is undoubtedly tea before glancing toward the palace windows. "Of course, all impressive decisions deserve careful consideration." His gaze lands on Zuko. "And impressive decisions are much easier to make after a short break."
The members of the council begin grabbing their papers, pulling back their chairs from around the table. The advisor who had spent the last hour discussing patrol routes looks almost relieved. Within minutes, the room gradually disperses until only Zuko and Iroh remain seated. Zuko exhales and leans back in his chair, finally giving his legs room to breathe. He raises a brow.
"You planned that."
Iroh hums into his tea. He must be a really good actor if he can look that indifferent after being accused so directly.
"Planned what?"
"The break," Zuko replies.
"I simply agreed that twelve percent sounded very impressive."
Zuko narrows his eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of smiling.
Iroh takes another sip. "I am glad to see your attention has returned, my nephew."
Despite himself, Zuko lets out a quiet laugh. The sound feels strange to his own ears. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd last laughed. For a moment, neither of them speak. Then, Iroh sets his teacup down.
"You miss them."
The words are so sudden Zuko nearly chokes on air. "I don't know what you are talking about."
Iroh smiles. Unfortunately, that usually means he knows exactly what he's talking about.
Zuko looks at the ground before muttering, "They're busy."
Iroh raises a brow, listening intently.
"They have their own lives now. So do I." The words leave him before he fully realizes he's speaking.
Iroh remains quiet, not even reaching for his teacup now.
"Aang has responsibilities, Katara does too. Everyone does."
Zuko’s gaze drifts back toward the palace windows. The city continued moving outside as it always had. People come, people leave. Life moves on. Things have always been like that.
"They aren't supposed to stay here forever."
The words sound reasonable enough. Logical. Yet something about the way he says it sits strangely in his chest the second they're spoken aloud.
Iroh studies him over the rim of his teacup. "Perhaps not."
Zuko watches him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
"There is usually a difference," Iroh says quietly, "between people leaving and people forgetting about you."
The room falls quiet again. Zuko looks away first. Part of him wants to tell his uncle he's overthinking things. Another part of him isn't entirely convinced. Before he can decide which part to listen to, a sudden knock echoes through the council chamber. Both of them glance toward the doors. A palace guard appears a moment later.
"Fire Lord Zuko." The guard bows quickly.
Zuko straightens slightly, "What is it?"
"You have visitors."
Zuko's first thought is another advisor. His second thought is somehow worse. More paperwork.
"I don't remember scheduling anything today."
The guard hesitates. "One of them is arguing with another guard about a boomerang."
For a moment, Zuko stares at him. Then, he is already on his feet. From across the table, Iroh's smile grows noticeably wider. The guard barely has enough time to step aside before Zuko is already heading toward the doors. Behind him, he hears the faint sound of Iroh laughing into his tea before he practically skips out the room.
The palace corridors suddenly feel shorter than they had all morning. Servants step aside as he passes, offering hurried bows as he barely registers them. Somewhere ahead, raised voices echo faintly through the entrance hall. He recognizes the familiar voice booming through the hall instantly.
"...because a boomerang is not a safety risk!"
"It is a weapon."
"It comes back!"
The moment Zuko steps into the entrance hall, he immediately spots them. Sokka stood near the center gesturing wildly at two exhausted palace guards. Aang hovered nearby looking relatively unhelpful. Toph leaned casually into one of the pillars with the expression of someone who looked like they were enjoying the situation too much. Katara stood beside them, arms crossed loosely as she listened to Sokka's argument.
For a moment, Zuko simply stares. It had only been a few months. Yet somehow, the palace already felt a little less quiet with them standing in it. The guard turns toward Zuko, immediately straightening at his presence. Sokka notices him first.
"Finally!" Sokka exclaims at Zuko, pointing dramatically at the guard. "Tell him my boomerang is innocent!"
The guard looks deeply offended before answering, "It is a weapon."
"It is a boomerang."
Toph snorts, moving closer to Sokka as she pushes herself off the wall. "Pretty sure those are the same thing, genius."
"They absolutely are not!"
For a second, nobody says anything. Four familiar faces stare at him. Zuko suddenly becomes extremely aware that he had sprinted across half the palace to get over here.
Sokka raises a brow. "Well?"
Zuko blinks. "Well, what?"
Katara laughs. "The greeting part."
Oh.
A brief pause.
"Hello."
Toph immediately groans, smacking her own forehead in response.
"That's all we get?" Sokka crosses his arms.
"I ran here." Zuko states as if he was trying to justify a point.
"You don't get points for transportation," Sokka replies.
Katara shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It's good to see you too, Zuko."
For a moment, nobody says anything. Sokka was still holding his boomerang like it was evidence in a courtroom. Toph looked seconds away from telling him off, and Aang seemed entirely too pleased with himself for reasons Zuko could not quite understand. For the first time all morning, he doesn't feel like he's waiting for the next problem to arrive.
Suddenly, a guard runs up to the corridor, looking out of breath. Out of the ordinary for a guard.
"There has been an incident."
The smile immediately disappears from Zuko's face.
"What happened?"
The guard glances toward the others. A moment passes.
"Only the Fire Lord is granted access to the holding chambers."
"They're coming with me." Something in Zuko's tone immediately ends the discussion.
The guard straightens. "Yes, sir."
The walk through the palace felt much longer than it had before. Nobody speaks. Even Sokka, who had been talking nonstop since he saw him, remained quiet. The deeper they move through the palace, the more guards begin to appear through the corridors. Some stood posted at intersections while others moved quickly between hallways carrying reports and messages. A familiar knot ties itself in Zuko's stomach.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The holding chambers sat below the palace itself, hidden below several levels of security that few people ever needed access to. By the time they reach the final corridor, several guards were already waiting outside. None of them looked particularly eager to be there. The moment Zuko steps into the chamber, he immediately notices the damage.
Scorch marks covered parts of the stone walls. One of the lanterns had been shattered. The iron cell door hung partially open. For a second, he doesn't understand what he is looking at. Then, his gaze shifts inside. The restraints bolted to the wall had been torn apart. A small trace of blue flame flickers weakly against the stone before disappearing.
The cell is empty.
Behind him, nobody says a word.
The cell is empty.
Azula is gone.
For several long seconds, no one speaks. Zuko can't stop staring. Part of him still expects her to be there. Maybe hidden in the shadows, sitting in the corner, or even laughing maniacally. Instead, all that remains are broken restraints and fading traces of blue fire.
Aang is the first one to break the silence. "How long ago?"
One of the guards' swallows. "We aren't sure."
Not good.
Not good at all.
Zuko's hands curl into fists. "Who was on duty?"
The guards exchange uneasy glances before one finally speaks. "We've begun questioning everyone assigned to this section."
"That's not what I asked." Zuko's jaw tightens. "Who was on duty?"
"We don't know, sir."
Zuko stares at them. The answer somehow feels worse than any explanation they could've given. Every second that passed made Zuko feel worse about the situation. If Azula had escaped an hour ago, she already had a head start. His gaze drifts back toward the broken restraints. The blue flame had already vanished.
If he had only come down here sooner--
He straightens, the movement almost feeling automatic. "Seal every exit leading out of the capital."
The nearest guard immediately nods. "Yes, Fire Lord."
"Double Patrols. Search every district."
The room moves instantly. Guards from every corner carry orders from every direction. But Zuko's eyes don't leave the cell. Footsteps echo through the chamber as orders are repeated. Within minutes, only a few guards remain stationed outside the chamber. Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko notices movement.
Katara.
She steps closer to the broken cell, fixing her gaze on the shattered restraints. For once, no one says anything. Katara studies the scorch marks along the wall before finally looking toward him.
"Have they reached the outer gates yet?"
Zuko nods.
Another pause.
"We'll probably know more once the patrols come back."
The words are meant to be reassuring. Instead, they only make the chamber feel quieter. Zuko's gaze never leaves the cell.
"They won't find anything."
Katara furrows a brow, picking herself up from the ground after analyzing the remains. "You don't know that."
"I do." His answer comes too quickly.
"How?"
A humorless laugh escapes him. "Because this is Azula." His eyes finally leave the cell long enough to look at her. "If the patrols were going to find something, they would've found it already."
"Zuko--"
"No." His gaze goes back to the shattered restraints before continuing, "She planned this."
Katara follows his gaze around the broken chains. "Then we'll figure out what she planned."
"You really think it's that simple?"
"That's not what I said."
"Then what are you saying?" The words come out harsher than he intends.
Katara gaze drops briefly to his hands. Only then does he realize they were trembling. He forces them still before her expression shifts slightly. She doesn't seem angry, but mainly concerned. Zuko hates it. The feeling of feeling helpless and pitied. He doesn't need concern right now. He needs answers. A direction. Something. Anything.
Instead, all he has is an empty cell.
"Zuko."
For the first time, he actually looks at her.
"We're going to find her."
The words are meant to reassure him. Somehow, they only make something tighten painfully in his chest.
"Find her?" He let's out another humorless laugh before continuing, "Katara, we don't even know where she is."
"We've found her before, we can do it again."
The last time they found Azula had been beneath a blood red sky. And even then, they barely made it out. He can almost see it again. The flash of blue light. Katara standing directly in it's path. His hand instinctively drifts toward the scar hidden beneath his robes. The one Azula had left behind.
The motion seems strangely familiar. The scar on his face and the scar on his chest. Both of them reminders of people who share his blood. His thumb presses down against his index finger. Somewhere beyond the walls, Azula was free. And no matter how many years passed or titles he carried, the damage she left behind always seemed to find it's way back to him.
"How are you not worried?" Zuko's hands slowly uncurl from his fists. "Out of everyone here, you should know exactly what she's capable of."
Katara blinks. "What?"
"You saw what happened."
Katara's voice lingers quieter now. "I was there too, Zuko."
Silence falls across the room, the others watching them quietly. For a second, he doesn't have an answer. The frustration brewing inside his chest suddenly feels exhausting. He looks away first.
"I need to think."
Without another word, Zuko turns toward the doorway. He catches the glimpse of his friends from the corner of his eye. Aang looks concerned. Sokka unusually doesn't have anything to say, and Toph remains quiet. The guards immediately step aside. He doesn't even look back.
Katara
The group stands there helplessly after Zuko's presence still lingers across the chambers that he had just left. An awkward silence settles as everyone silently glances at each other. Sokka, of course, is the first one to break it.
"So.." He rubs the back of his neck. "That went well."
Katara shoots him a look, Sokka immediately avoids her gaze as he suddenly gains an interest in the wall.
Aang shifts awkwardly beside her. "He's just worried."
Katara glances toward the doorway Zuko had just disappeared through. Part of her wants to go after him, another part of her knows he needs his space. The next words come out of her mouth without much thought.
"We should stay."
Three heads turn toward her. Aang brightens immediately, while Sokka has a shocked expression on his face.
Toph raises a brow. "Yeah, let's stay here around the guy that clearly does not want to see us."
Sokka suddenly gasps. "You know what this calls for?!"
The sound immediately fills Katara with dread.
"Don't--" Toph interjects.
Before anyone can stop him, Sokka reaches into his bag. Several folded bundles of red clothes appear.
"FIRE NATION UNIFORMS!"
For a second, Katara can only simply stare. Memories begin to flash through her mind--crowded streets, festival lanterns, pretending to belong somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. Back when everything had felt impossible. A small smile slips into her face before she can stop it.
"Where did you even get those?" Katara attempts, (and fails) to hide the small spark of excitement in her voice.
Sokka looks far too pleased with himself, a devilish smirk widening from his lips. "Trade secret."
Toph tilts her head. "He stole them."
"Hey!!"
Her smile lingers for a moment longer. Then, Katara's gaze drifts back toward the doorway. The feeling fades slightly. Somewhere inside the palace, Zuko was probably trying to carry the entire situation by himself.
Zuko
The palace feels quieter than usual. Zuko isn't entirely sure where he's going. He just didn't want to stand still. His footsteps carry him through familiar corridors until he finally spots someone sitting near one of the palace windows.
Mai.
A book rests open in her lap. She doesn't look up. For a moment, Zuko wonders if she even notices him at all. He debates whether he should turn around, but ends up stopping beside her instead.
"Mai."
She hums in response, not looking up from the book as she continues to scan the page. "You're pacing louder than usual."
A small part of him feels relieved that she noticed. Zuko drags a hand through his hair. "Azula escaped."
"I know."
The page turns. Zuko waits. The silence stretches for longer than it should. Candles near him flicker somewhere nearby.
"That's it?" Zuko presses.
"What am I supposed to say?" She continues to read from the page, but stops tracing her finger on one of the words.
His jaw tightens. "Does that not concern you?"
"It does, but worrying about it won't put her back in a cell."
Zuko bites his lip, feeling something hot rising from his chest. "She's not just something to worry about. You didn't see what happened."
Mai raises a brow. "I grew up with her too."
His voice softens a bit. "Then you should understand why I have to do something about this. I can't just ignore--"
"You're overthinking it." She says, still not looking at him.
"I'm not."
"You always do."
She finally closes the book and studies him for a moment. The look she gives Zuko is not cold. It isn't uncaring either. Just distant. Somehow, he feels as if he's just as alone standing beside her. Another wave of silence falls between both of them, this time heavier than the last.
Zuko opens his mouth. He almost says it. That he's scared. That he doesn't know what to do. That every time Azula appears, somebody gets hurt. But the words linger and get caught up at the back of his throat. Then, they disappear.
They always do.
Katara
The Fire Nation capital feels different during the day. The last time she walked these streets, she had been pretending to belong there. Back then, every alleyway had felt like a hiding place. Every soldier felt like a threat. Now, people moved endlessly through the streets around her. Merchants called out from storefronts, children ran around in circles, and life had actually continued here long after the war ended. A raised voice catches her attention. Then another. Katara slows her steps. A small crowd had gathered around one of the public wells near the marketplace.
"We were told this well would remain open!" A woman yells at a soldier.
"Orders changed," The soldier crosses his arms. "By decree of the Fire Lord."
Katara slows, unsure if she should interject.
"We don't have another water source close enough! You have to keep this one open for us." The woman pleads.
Katara tells herself to keep walking. She makes it three steps forward before turning around. "What's going on?" She asks, slightly moving out of the way so she can step in between both of them.
Both sides start talking at once, making the words blur through the air.
She raises a hand. "Stop."
The word cuts through the air more sharply than she expected.
She turns to the woman first. "You."
"They closed the well this morning."
Katara turns towards the soldier. "Why?"
"Contamination risk. We were ordered to restrict all access until it is resolved."
Katara exhales slowly. Neither of them were actually listening to each other. One was worried about keeping people safe, the other was worried about having water tomorrow. Neither of them were being unreasonable.
It always seemed strange to her how so many problems could be solved if people simply tried to understand each other before arguing. Somewhere along the way, people have become so focused on being heard that they have forgotten how to listen.
She turns to the soldier. "You don't cut off people from water without a plan." Then, she turns to the woman. "And you don't ignore a safety warning just because it's inconvenient."
They both stare at her in silence.
"Here's what's going to happen," Katara continues. "You keep the well open but limit access. I'll check the water myself. If it's unsafe, we'll find another solution. If it's not, there's no reason for this area to be restricted."
The soldier hesitates. "We don't have authority to-"
"I do." Katara interrupts. She hesitates for a second, but doesn't falter enough for her words to come out confidently. "I'm acting on behalf of the Fire Lord."
It's a gamble.
But looking at her form, the guard recognizes her from somewhere.
"Thank you." The woman says as the tension slowly eases and suddenly the crowd that has formed around her starts cheering.
The crowd slowly begins to disperse. Conversations resume, and tension eases. Someone thanks her as they pass. Then another. Katara stands beside the well for a moment longer than necessary. When she spoke, people listened. Not out of obligation. Not because someone else had spoken first. Just her. A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth before she finally turns away fully from the well.
Zuko
Zuko sits on his chair, working his way through another stack of reports. He continues reading through until he comes across a report he doesn't recognize.
"Well access dispute?"
His eyes move quickly along the page, scanning all the details.
Eastern district, Restricted access. Civilian unrest, Temporary issue resolved under his authority.
He pauses. Under his authority?
Temporary access permitted, water inspected, further action pending.
Zuko frowns slightly. He doesn't remember approving this. His fingers tighten around the paper as he reads near the bottom of the text.
Resolved without escalation on behalf of the Fire Lord.
The tension in his shoulders eases--just a bit. That alone is rare. He exhales quietly. Whoever handled it did it well. No force, no damage, no escalation. Just resolution. His grip on the paper loosens. For just a moment, he feels a small wave of relief. It doesn't last long. A sharp knock cuts through the silence.
Zuko fixes his posture immediately. "Come in."
A guard steps inside, slightly out of breath.
"Fire Lord Zuko, there has been an incident."
"What kind of incident?" Zuko sets down the paper.
The guard hesitates before speaking, "A structure was reduced to ash just outside the eastern district."
"Reduced to ash?"
The guard says his words carefully, "...There were traces of blue fire."
"Thank you." He quickly dismisses the guard, waiting for the door to slam shut before he stares at the papers in front of him.
It all feels meaningless. None of it matters if she keeps moving. If someone gets hurt. His hand moves before he can stop himself. The papers fall and scatter across the desk. Zuko barely notices. He reaches for a blank sheet instead before the brush already touches the paper.
Ink spreads across the blank sheet before he even has time to question. It starts with a word, then another, eventually a full sentence. The words come out unfiltered. Not chosen for him, not corrected, not questioned--but like they finally belong to him. Only when the brush finally stops does he realize he has already finished the entire letter.
This is not your responsibility.
Zuko stares at the last few words on the paper. His chest tightens. He doesn't write a name.
He doesn't need to.