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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19166 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Twenty-five—

“Don’t fidget,” Zuko murmured close to Katara’s ear. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t speak unless I queue you.”

Katara squirmed in the uncomfortable seat and tugged on the rigid collar of the Fire Nation tunic. “That’s ridiculous!” she scoffed indignantly. The clothing itched. The seat was cold and hard, and Zuko’s attitude was offensive.

Hiding his grin beneath his hand, Zuko cleared his throat to keep from laughing. It was the first time since their arrival he’d actually felt like laughing. He hadn’t wanted to bring Katara back to the Fire Nation, but he hadn’t been able to ignore the messenger hawk from his uncle.

Days had bled into weeks, those quickly turning into months. Contentment was a difficult thing to let go of. The Bei Fong estate was an oasis compared to the complexities of his life.

He had discovered his wife there, not just her physical location, but her. By day, she had labored in the village below, helping to rebuild. By night, she had burned in his arms, soothing his worries and coaxing him to share himself fully.

Just as she had healed the village, she had healed him.

He was still scarred, but his soul was… less troubled.

“This… this… uniform is uncomfortable,” Katara whined, tugging on the high collar of the ceremonial robe. “And this chair is beyond hard.” She squirmed. “It’s like there are little spikes beneath the ‘cushion.’”

Zuko sighed, for he knew this would not be an easy task. He had wanted to warn Katara, but he’d had to honor the traditions of his people. Perspective brides of the Fire Lord had to pass a series of tests. Luckily they weren’t a series of Firebending duels. In fact, the tests were more a series of questions and matters of comfort.

“And,” she hissed, “as for the speaking when queued… That is just wrong!”

Zuko smirked.

A long, ominous gong sounded in the distance, which caused him to stiffen. “Katara, please—” Before he could finish, the ornate, metallic doors of the holy temple opened, the hinges squeaking with rusted age.

Folding her hands in her lap, Katara sat up and looked straight ahead, the expression on her face serene yet determined.

The five Sages of the Temple of Agni walked into the room, forming a half circle in front of the Fire Lord and his intended. “Fire Lord Zuko,” the one on the far right addressed the ruling sovereign of their nation, “Benevolent One of our people, Prince Regent of Fire, Beloved Descendant of Agni, why are you here?”

“I seek Agni’s blessings,” Zuko replied solemnly. “I have found a woman who would be fit to rule our great nation by my side.”

“Yes,” the sage second to the right responded with a sneering hiss. “Katara of the Water Tribe. You took her as your bride many moons ago. Is she with child? Does she carry a son of Agni within her womb?”

Wincing inwardly, Zuko clutched the wooden armrest and exhaled. He had never hated his ancestors more. To use children as bartering tools was something he didn’t think he would ever get used to. “Answer the question, Katara.”

“No,” she replied. “I am not with child.”

“That is the way of the Water Tribes,” a third sage interceded. “They use their element to prevent conception. Do you honestly expect Agni to accept a woman who is the opposite of everything we stand for?”

Narrow-minded assholes! Zuko thought. “Didn’t Agni teach us the benefits of steam? Didn’t the Wisest of the Gods acknowledge that fire would not exist without air? Air alone cannot sustain a flame. Our element cannot stand alone. Do we not use the earth to power our navy? Can one truly live within a fire?”

The fourth sage cleared his throat. “You are wise indeed, Fire Lord Zuko, but would you have us change the laws to soothe your sense of duty? You have no heir. Your very sovereignty hinges on your ability to provide our nation with the blessed link to the One True Fire Lord, Agni.”

The fifth sage stepped forward, breaking formation and earning a scathing gasp from the other four. “Whereas my peers recognize your divine rights, I do not. Where have you been these past months?”

Zuko’s gaze narrowed. “I do not need to justify my whereabouts to you.”

“You do when you abandon your duties,” the sage countered.

“San!” The first sage chastised the dissenter. “That is enough!”

Undeterred, the youngest holy man shrugged off the elder’s warning. “Were you hunting for your sister?”

Katara jumped up, her hands clenched by her sides. “No! Zuko wasn’t hunting for Azula! He came for me! He wanted to make sure I was safe! He wanted to protect me! He wanted to warn us! He wanted to warn one of the witnesses who survived her malicious attack at Mt. Mahaku.”

Zuko stood and reached for his wife.

“He cannot even control his wife! Is the blessed line of Agni to be diluted with water? The dissenter questioned, taking a threatening step toward Katara, only to find himself blocked by a wall of flame.

The Fire Lord growled in warning.

“This meeting is adjourned!” the eldest declared, placing himself between the wall of fire and the youngest sage. Without a backwards glance, he grabbed his underling’s sleeve and dragged him from the room. The remaining sages quickly followed.

The flaming wall died down as Zuko’s temper eased. Katara hid her face against the stiff, crimson material of his tunic. “I’m sorry.”

“It will be all right,” he replied. “Never apologize for being who you are.”

Lonely applause echoed from the shadows of the grand room, startling the young couple.

“How touching,” Azula mocked, stepping from the shadows.

Zuko shoved Katara behind him, the nightmare of this day growing in intensity. As his sister moved into the light, his gaze traveled to the child at her side. The resemblance was uncanny.

“JianJun,” Azula addressed her five-year-old son, “say hello to your Uncle Zu-Zu and his Water Tribe concubine, Katara.”

Releasing his mother’s hand, the little boy bowed. Azula grinned, looking at her son, and folding her loose robe to emphasize the pregnant bulge of belly.

Zuko hissed, feeling the nightmarish images suffocating him. Azula was pregnant, and she had a child!

“I’m hoping for another boy,” Azula announced. “That way I can sit back and watch them fight for the throne. I always did admire the way father stole uncle’s birth right.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Zuko, finally finding his voice.

Azula moved around the room with a fluidic grace that shouldn’t have been possible for a pregnant woman. She waved her hand around. “This is my sanctuary, Zu-Zu. I am, after all, in no condition to challenge you to an Agni Kai.”

Clenching his fists at his sides, Zuko clamped his mouth shut. No matter what, he wasn’t going to let her bait him.

“The sages are questioning your ability to rule,” Azula stated, examining the intricate scrollwork of the column she ran her hands over. “I can’t say that I blame them. You’ve been gone for months chasing after your Waterbender. Where are your priorities, brother?”

Azula turned, peering over his shoulder at Katara. “I can’t believe you actually thought the council would accept a Waterbender as a bride for Agni. Disgusting. I must commend you though… Your poor decision has made the council’s decision more palatable to them. They will denounce you and install me as Fire Lady.”

“And send our nation to war with the Earth Kingdom again?” Zuko shot back. “I don’t think so.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Azula strode toward her son and nudged him with her foot “Get up. You’ve bowed long enough.”

JianJun stood, keeping his head hung low. Katara made a sound of protest behind Zuko, who cleared his throat to silence her.

“You are a criminal, Azula. The Earth Kingdom is demanding your head and that of your lover on a platter.”

“JianJun.” Azula knelt in front of her son, clasping his little shoulders. “Run along. Find Fire Sage San and tell him to watch over you until my return.”

The five-year-old nodded and ran from the room.

“I’m well aware of my crimes.” Azula yawned, unrepentant. “I was a prisoner of war. I was raped. I was tortured. I had to do what I had to do in order to stay alive.”

Her words were low… almost sincere. If it weren’t for the fact that Zuko had seen the small smile that had graced her lips, he might have believed her.

“I think that’s how my defense goes,” she laughed softly.

“You murdered hundreds!” Katara accused.

“And there isn’t blood on your hands?” Azula replied, arching a questioning eyebrow.

“I’ve never murdered anyone in cold blood.”

Azula’s blood-red lips curled. “Oh really?”

“What do you want, Azula?” Zuko repeated the question, hoping against hope he would get an answer—one that would allow him to sleep at night.

“The throne,” his sister answered simply. “Renounce the throne and give it to me. I’ll even let you live… in exile of course.”

Her words made little sense to him, the absurdity of them bringing bubbling laughter past his lips. Unable to hold it in, he laughed. Azula hated to be laughed at. The scar on his face wasn’t the only scar he wore. He had a small one on his arm from where Azula had “accidentally” stabbed him in one of her rages. If his memory served him well, he had been laughing at her then.

Her golden eyes narrowed in anger. “I see that I am being too generous.” She turned to leave, but paused. “By the way, tell uncle I said congratulations on the birth of his daughter. I hear, thank Agni, she resembles her mother.”

Zuko’s laughter died a quick death. The birth of Iroh and Jai Li’s baby was a closely guarded secret. Like Zuko, Iroh worried for the child’s safety. The underlying threat in his sister’s tone was undeniable, and he feared for Iroh’s happiness.

With her wounding shot delivered, Azula walked out of the room.

Zuko grasped Katara’s wrist and peered into the shadows, his imagination getting the better of him.

“How did she know about Li Lu?” Katara asked softly.

He pulled Katara toward the doors, determined not to let his fears rule him. “Azula has a spy in the palace.” Servants of the temple bowed as they walked past them, Zuko watching them out of the corner of his eyes. The heavy outer doors opened, and he and his wife stepped into the courtyard.

Katara drew breath, probably to ask another question, but he pressed his finger against his lips. “I beg of you, Katara. Say nothing else,” he stated firmly, helping her into a carriage. Instead of getting in after her, he climbed into the driver’s seat and ordered him to step down.

“Trust no one,”Azula had once told him. “Least of all yourself.”

He grabbed the reigns of the rhinos and snapped them, causing the carriage to lurch forward. He had to get back to the palace. He had to warn Iroh and sniff out the spy. He had to get Katara to safety. His sister, as usual, was one step ahead of him, and that one step could take a lifetime for him to catch up to her.

--

TBC

Author’s Notes: My goodness! I did not realize how long it had been since I updated this story. I am going to bore you with the details of my life. Since I last updated, I had surgery #2. I will be having surgery #3 in November. I work full-time as a social worker, and am the mother of a seven-year-old. I have other Avatar stories in the works. I am happy to report that my muses are alive and well after the wait for season three.

If you like this story, check out my other ones! Reviews are always welcome and greatly appreciated. God Bless!
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The Price of Peace