Avatar Zuko

Chapter 44

Azula sat restlessly in the chamber, fiddling with the hem of her crimson dress and absorbing the useless information the general was spouting. For years she'd longed to attend war councils, and after her brother's banishment Ozai had allowed her to sit in and listen. By now, of course, she would give her own piece- it usually being the most valuable- and that was what pleased her father.

“Thanks to the information Princess Azula gathered whilst in Ba Sing Se, we know that there will be an attack launched on the day of the eclipse.” Explained one captain, as though that weren't common knowledge in the room; it was the reason so many high ranking officials had gathered.

A general sighed. “It makes the most sense to create a trap, perhaps letting them mow down the weaker troops and then surprising them from behind after the eclipse has started.”

“What if we fought them head on though?” Suggested a younger (50 ish) Lord. “We could set up a non-bending defence like the Yue Archers, who have experience without bending.”

“That might be less cowardly, but it's likely that the army that will greet us will be made up of a select number of elite benders, who could easily incapacitate a bunch of non-benders.” Someone else added, and all of their monotone voices were starting to do Azula's head in.

They kept on switching between ideas, the only silent two at the table being the Firelord and his daughter. She kept picking at the threading of her dress, letting her pale fingers tangle in the scarlet knots. Concentrating was boring. It wasn't like any valuable ideas were being presented anyway. Thumbing over the bitten raw nails on one hand, Azula stood up.

“Is it necessary I be here, Father? Clearly your subordinates have this covered. If it would please you, I would prefer to spend my time preparing for the battle; the eclipse is only a week away, after all.”

Ozai regarded her from his second throne, the one kept in the war chamber. He lounged upon it like a weary panther, constantly tensing as if about to strike. He wore traditional robes which draped his entire body, but were easy to throw off if combat occurred. Azula knew. She'd seen. The men around the table leaned in with ill-concealed enthusiasm in their eyes, watching the exchange as if anticipating an Agni-Kai, as if she were Zuko.

The man sniffed. “Daughter, you wish to leave? Do you understand the honour of us including you here, not of age yet and a woman?” She heard his knuckles crack, the tone of voice familiar.

“Father, I am grateful for the opportunities that you have given me.” She stood a little straighter, perfectly aware of her worth. “But it is clear that I can be more useful elsewhere.”

Ozai’s eyes slipped to the floor, a low chuckle sticking in his throat. “Very well, if you have no more information to give, you are excused.”

Azula thought of her brother, alive somewhere close to them, waiting to attack. She thought of his team and their strength. She thought of her father, unaware the Avatar still lived, still crediting his defeat to Azula.

“No, Father, I have no more information for you at this time.”

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Iroh leaned against his cell wall, the damp creeping through his layers like icy spiders. He'd stopped shivering weeks ago.

It was lucky, really, that he'd taught himself to use firebending to warm his own body. Otherwise, in this frigid cell, he'd barely have the energy to sit upright- let alone keep up the merciless training regime he'd put himself through. Now his muscles jumped beneath his rags, the pillow he held to his stomach flush against his newfound abs.

He thought, with a chuckle, that he should have gotten back in shape years ago, back when he at least had a chance with the ladies. Now he was old and tired and sad, two sons dead in a lifetime, killed through a war his grandfather began. They said no parent deserved to see their children die before them, but, perhaps, after his siege on Ba Sing Se, this was the spirits’ way of enacting karma upon his life.